You always said the sea was a dangerous place. Full of twists and turns, an ever-changing landscape, no place for a woman. I couldn't disagree more; it's a perfect place for a woman. No men for a thousand miles each side to tell her what to do. Just the soothing sound of the sea, and all the new places waiting to be discovered. They say the Earth is round now. Of course, you and your friends in the coven don't want any such malarkey. The High Priest has forbidden anyone to speak of it. But I don't care. It should be an interesting thing to find out. I'll sail around the world and let you know when I get back, whether it's flat or round, and whether there be monsters!

It's not just curiosity that's driving me to this, you know. I know you think I'm mad, and I really ought to be looked after. But that's why I'm leaving you. Do you remember when I first ran away from home to come and live with you? My father had beaten me every day, with spells, and jinxes, and table legs. I looked like I'd picked myself off the butchers counter. You took me into your arms and you said you'd look after me. But you looked after me too much, you were almost smothering me. You were more like a parent than a lover, and after time, more like an employer. I'd come to you for protection and love. You'd not let me take a single risk, but you made me keep your house, sweep the floors, cook the meals. And then, if I couldn't, wouldn't, didn't, you'd beat me. Just like my father did. Oh, and you'd hug me, and wail, and beg for forgiveness, say it'd never happen again. But it did. You went too far.

So the money that you saved for a rainy day on the shelf is gone. After all, it is raining. I needed it to buy a boat, provisions and sails. Maybe when I return from my trip, I'll take you back. You can stare into my suntanned face, see where the sea wind has rubbed my beaming face red and raw, see my hair, bedraggled and windswept, and see how this time, I was right.