Many of them had polished the Dawn's keel, forged the deck's rivets, and carried those barrels of heavy fuel.
Now they were going to watch the ship they built sail out of the Northern Territory's waters for the first time.
Sunlight spilled over the sea, illuminating the excited and proud faces.
"Quiet! Quiet, everyone! Lord Louis is going to speak!" Eliot shouted loudly.
The harbor quickly quieted down, and everyone turned their eyes to the top of the embankment.
Louis stood on the wooden podium at the highest point, the sea breeze rustling his cape, as he gazed over the entire bay.
Behind him, the Red Tide flag of the Dawn flapped loudly in the wind.
He paused for a moment, then his voice, amplified by magic, echoed clearly through the harbor:
"People of Dawn Port!"
The crowd fell silent, even the sound of the waves seemed to fade.
"From the first wooden hut of Dawn to this port today, it took us more than two years. This is a miracle created by your hands.
