There was a gust of spring breeze in the air and gentles waves on the sea, bringing with it the distinct smell of seawater. In the sky, the seagulls were flying above the harbor. Amongst the passengers carrying their luggage on the deck, the young priest peered into the distance in the direction of the harbor. He could not help but heave a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness, it has finally come to an end." He squeezed his way to the front, his eyes still fixed on the white city on the island, Avalon. It was the legendary island of miracles, the eternal treasure on the seas, and a city of pure whiteness.