Chapter 1 LIVERPOOL ENGLAND JULY 4, 1698

"BRITANNIA!" Flying Dutchman's cry sounded across the harbor.

Exor was awake at once.

"Oh no." She whispered and raced off.

She found the Dutch fluyt on her side, holding Britannia's lifeless form.

"Britannia! Britannia, please!" She sobbed.

Exor's heart went out to her. A broken bond was something no ship should have to go through, especially not for one so young.

"Flying Dutchman!" Exor growled.

The ship was too distraught to notice her.

Exor moved up alongside.

"Dutchman stop, it's not use!" She growled, trying to pull the fluyt away from her dead mentor.

"No she needs me!" Flying Dutchman cried, struggling.

"She's dead, Dutchman. She is dead. There's nothing you can do."

Exor's words seemed to have reached the young ship and she rolled on her side, sobbing harder than ever.

Exor lay down beside her, holding her tightly.

"It's my fault!" Flying Dutchman sobbed.

"How can you say that?" Exor said. "It's not your fault. It never was." She assured her.

"But it was!" Flying Dutchman wailed. "She didn't want to go. She didn't want to fight but I insisted. I pushed her!"

"You couldn't have known what would happen." Exor said. "No one could've known. She got the best care she could've gotten and sometimes even that isn't enough."

Exor held the stricken fluyt, looking over her shoulder at Britannia.

"You never should've died, Bri." She thought. "You've always thought me the greatest healer in the Empire but not even I can heal a broken heart."

Flying Dutchman cried throughout the night, a part of her still refusing to accept her mentor was gone as she called for Britannia.

Exor knew it would be several weeks at the least before the frayed ends of her bond sealed shut and healed themselves.

The next morning a huge funeral was held as the Royal Navy mourned its leader.

Britannia had been in command from the outset and losing her now was a huge blow.

Exor watched as the procession filed past, Flying Dutchman at her side.

"Wait!" The fluyt called, rushing forward.

The ships carrying Britannia paused at her approach.

The one once magnificent ship of the line was covered in a British flag.

She almost looked to be asleep.

Flying Dutchman gently pulled the flag back off her head and leaned down to kiss her.

Then she gently covered her once more.

"Go ahead." She ordered, backing off.

The ships continued on.

"She never wanted to die alone." Exor said.

"Hmm..." Flying Dutchman mumbled, distracted.

"Britannia, her greatest fear was dying alone. She must've been so happy to have you with her." Exor replied.

"I can't live without her, Exor." Flying Dutchman whispered.

"Yes you can. The first few months are the hardest but you'll survive. You must. You have a duty to the Empire now."

Flying Dutchman turned to Exor, surprised.

"As Britannia's apprentice you are more than just the ferryman. You are the Keeper of the British Empire and now with her death, you're its Protector too." Exor explained.

"I-I can't do this…" Flying Dutchman whimpered.

"You can. I'll help you." Exor assured her.

"Promise?" Flying Dutchman asked. "Promise." Exor replied.

Flying Dutchman relaxed and for the first time a genuine smile crossed her face. The first Exor had ever seen.

"Thank you Exor." She whispered.

The two ships watched the procession and Exor took note on how Flying Dutchman winced as each shot rang out.

To Flying Dutchman, it felt like a bullet in her heart.

She was on her own.

Britannia was gone and she wasn't coming back.