John Cabot’s Voyage to North America (1497)

You are John Cabot, a navigator in service to a restless crown, and you leave Bristol with a single stubborn purpose: to find a westward road to the riches of the East. The sea is a living thing beneath your keel—the rigging sings, waves fold into night, and fog can hide a shore or a jagged reef. Charts are guesses and stars are your only jury; every sighting could be the moment that crowns you with glory or breaks you on an unknown coast. You wake before dawn to the slap of water and the hush of men trying to sleep through fear. Crew whispers, a captain's certainty, a nation's hopes: you carry them all. You must judge weather by smell, wind by temper, and human hearts by small signs, deciding whether to press on into white horizon or to turn back into safety. The edge of the world waits in mist and salt—alive, dangerous, and waiting for you to name it.