Hours dragged by. The air inside the ship grew colder and the sound of the waves beat unrestrained against the bow. Wood creaked with each shrinkage as the fleet swam closer to the shore.

Caught in the silence and the noise at the same time, you thought you could hear rain, the drops hitting the deck. Japan could not be far away.

Waves breaking on the cliffs of a coastline made the sea rage. And this weather was really unacceptable. The floor swayed under your feet as you stood up for the first time in several hours to climb the steps of the staircase.

When the door opened, the captain of the ship was still dressed in his armour. That meant it had been hours but not yet late enough to allow the soldiers to sleep.

He looked at you with narrowed eyebrows, waiting for a word to leave your mouth. Candlelight made the brown of his eyes shimmer.

It was dark outside the window, probably at night. But that didn't explain why he was still awake. He looked at you with mild impatience.

"I feel sick...", you finally say and press a hand to your stomach. "The ship is rocking hard."

Exhaling deeply, he lifted his chin and looked at you closely. You offered him a display, choking and pretending you were going to throw up on his boots at any moment.

Disgusted, he stumbled back two steps.

"Don't you dare throw up in my cabin!", he hissed, grabbing you by the shoulder and hurrying you to the door.

Outside, an icy cold wind hit your face. Small drops of rain stung your cheeks, burning like fire. It wasn't long before the fabric of your tunic was soaked.

Roughly, the captain pushed you to the rail, shouted something to the sentries and then sought the warmth of his cabin again.

Still pretending to be sick, you let yourself half bend over the railing and made a few itching movements. Let the guards think you were struggling to vomit and they wouldn't come any closer.

Rain poured down on you as if the sky wanted to feed the ocean. Wet wood pressed into your stomach. Your whole body was covered in goose bumps. Dripping fabric clung to your arms and legs. Your eyes wandered through the darkness.

Small shadows drifted on the angry waves of the sea. The sails were furled and hardly a man was to be seen on deck. At a moment like this, it would have been easy to escape, but the waves would have pushed you against the belly of the ship and drowned you.

Or you would freeze to death, whichever happened faster.

Not far from you, one of the guards approached. You gagged again, leaning further down and forcing something from your stomach up into your throat. The taste of acid filled your mouth.

With a splash, your last meal faded into the depths of the sea. Disgusted, the Mongol backed away, decided that his duty was more important and turned his back on you.

That gave you a few more seconds to look around. The barge's fleet had come to a standstill, you realised. The movements came from the waves that lifted the ships.

But you were not on the high seas. The Mongols had anchored and that was only possible when land was nearby.

With bated breath, you lifted your gaze. Rainwater ran down your face. Your hair was sticking to your forehead. It was freezing cold. In the darkness, it was hard to see how far away things were.

Sometimes your eyes played a game with you. After months at sea, there were things to see that weren't there. But as you leaned over the railing, your hands firmly anchored in the wood and the rain on your face, you were so sure you weren't imagining the sight.

Far out, probably hours away, an island rose on the roaring waves. White crowns of foam framed their coast, which was made of stone.

The clouds had gathered over the island as if it were the lord of the sky, the gateway to the gods. A gasp caught in your throat as a shadow suddenly fell over you.

Startled, you jerk back, only to be grabbed by the shoulder. With rough force, one of the soldiers yanked you back from the railing. You stumbled, slipped on the wet wood and fell straight onto the metal grating that led down to the prisoners.

Wailing and pleading filled your ears. They would all die down there.

"Do you think you can survive in this sea?", the soldier asked.

Water washed away your vision. Narrowing your eyes, you wiped your face. Salt spread across your lips.

"I had to throw up...", you said back.

He frowned in disgust, took a look down and almost threw up himself.

"Couldn't you have spared the wall?", he asked, gritting his teeth. "Get up. You have to go back."

Obediently, you managed to get back on your feet. The floor swayed under your feet. Wood creaked.

When a wave crashed against the hull, the water splashed up so high that it spilled over the entire deck. Masses of salty sea water ran through the grating into the hull of the ship.

"The prisoners will drown.", you pointed to the grate at your feet.

Screams tore through the air. Some of them were probably already frozen to death. The soldier grabbed you by the shoulder.

"That's not your concern.", he roughly pulled you back to the captain's cabin.

Warmth cut through the icy layer that encased your cheeks as the door opened again and the light of the candles filled your eyes.

A tremor coursed through your body. Your legs refused to go back to the bottom of the ship. It was dry there, reasonably warm.

But who decided that you had the right to enjoy this while the others were drowning in the cold?

Your eyes closed. You had to live.

Your people were waiting for you in a small village that promised peace.

Freedom. At last.