The fragments attributed to Captain Caelir Aethyris of the Silver Meridian were recovered from ancient wreckage cast among reef and drift within the isles. The vessel was lost one hundred and seventy-three years ago. Time and seawater have ruined most of the record. What remains are scraps of treated parchment, torn chart leaves, partial inventory lines, and a handful of log entries still legible enough to assemble into a rough sequence.

Caelir’s hand, where it survives, is disciplined to the last. The loss of so much material has made the account more haunting, not less. He was plainly a careful captain, and the absence of what he once recorded is felt in every gap.

Expedition Day 1

Entered the outer banks in company with clear weather above and low vapour on the water. Bearings ordinary until third bell. Light began to flatten strangely toward the north-east. Ordered double soundings and reduced sail only after the mist thickened enough to conceal the escort pinnace at absurdly short range. No panic among the crew. Instruments satisfactory.

Expedition Day 3

…three sounding lines agree. There can be no reef here by any chart I have seen, nor by the measurements we ourselves made at dawn. Nevertheless the Meridian has taken damage below the waterline and must be careened or repaired at first viable shore. Master Helmsman insists the sea under us changed colour a full minute before impact. I did not observe this myself.

Fragment, likely Day 5 or 6

…landfall made under inhospitable conditions. Shore of black stone and poor footing. Several immense crustacean forms observed among the tidal pools and lower rocks, one aggressive enough to overturn a boat before it could be driven off. Casualties not yet final. Ordered no more isolated working parties. Survey delayed.

Expedition Day 8

Repairs proceed, though too slowly for my liking. We have sighted multiple islands at varying distances through fog and rain. One bears great fungal growths of impossible size. Another presents a single tooth-like rise of stone from shallow water. The crew have begun naming features before they are properly sounded, which I have forbidden, though I confess the habit may be useful if our charting continues under such conditions.

Half-page, top destroyed

…shore party returned from the island of standing stone with fresh water, poor temper, and one fewer archer than departed. Tracks found there do not match any beast familiar to our huntsmaster. The stone itself appears worked, though whether by tool, tide, or age I cannot yet say. I am less troubled by the monolith than by the fact that the channel behind us proved narrower upon return than on approach, though tide alone should not account for the difference.

Expedition Day 13

Sighted a tall fire tower or lighthouse upon an eastern isle. No signal was shown. We stood off rather than hazard rock in failing light. Twice after sunset the watch reported a lantern where no lantern had burned before. Twice the light was gone before I gained the rail. I have reprimanded no one. Fatigue and wet do enough work without my assistance.

Fragment from chart margin

Dread northern peak visible whenever cloud lifts. Serves as anchor for broader orientation, though distances remain deceptive.

Expedition Day 17

A low island dominated by a tree of remarkable breadth offered shelter from the wind but not from unease. Several among the hands complained of feeling watched while cutting casks from an older wreck lodged inland of the tideline. I found no observer. Nevertheless I have ordered a stricter lantern watch and no one is to remain ashore after dusk for any reason short of shipwreck.

Expedition Day 20

Supplies remain sufficient if disciplined. Powder dry enough. Hull condition tolerable but worsening. A lesser crew might already be lost. I record this not from pride but precision. We have endured reef, predation, poor ground, false channels, hostile weather, and the continual inconvenience of never being exactly where the sea insists we are. If this place means to break a ship, it first makes every remedy cost twice its worth.

Fragment, edges burned or blackened

…from the western rise above the skull-shaped island, Lookout Sereth reported a figure standing motionless upon the stone. Too far for certainty. Could as easily have been a split trunk or ruined post glimpsed through rain. When I looked, nothing remained. I include the report only because this is now the third such sighting made from three different points of land.

Expedition Day 24

We have abandoned the attempt to regain our earlier anchorage. The route back proved fouled by shoal and surf beyond what memory or chart could justify. Two men injured in the launch. One missing and presumed taken. I have begun to suspect that within these waters misfortune does not repeat at random. I do not say cause. I say pattern.

Fragment, likely later

…shapes in the mist off the larboard quarter shortly before dawn. Not swimmers. Not wreckage. They kept pace with us where the water was too broken for any boat. Warning shots produced no answer. The marines requested permission to fire at will and were denied until form could be established more clearly. That clarity has not improved matters.

Expedition Day unreadable, lower half preserved

…they stood beyond the lantern reach in shallow water and among the rocks. Pale. Motionless until the sea broke over them, whereupon they shifted only enough to remain upright. No hail returned. No bargaining gesture. No visible banner. Surgeon Telian, who watched longest, remarked in a voice I did not like that he had seen no breath from any of them, though the air was cold enough to show our own.

Fragment

Barricades ordered across the waist deck. Remaining ammunition issued. Wounded who can stand are to stand armed. No one leaves the light.

Final legible scrap

…they have made no demand. They have offered no terms. They simply remain where the mist thins, as if waiting for some signal not given by us. If this page survives where we do not, let it be known that the company of the Silver Meridian met every trial as sailors of Hysh ought, and that whatever shore receives our bones shall not say we drifted unready into the dark.

Nothing that follows can now be read with confidence.