“The last thing I remember was the struggle to break through the undercurrent of the waves thrashing above me, water swirls pushing and pulling my failing body moments after being thrown from the ship I was crossing the Atlantic Ocean on. I had been travelling on my own, as I always did, paying a fare to travel as a passenger aboard the navy vessel bound for the new lands. Yet as fate would have it, or by the command of God or the Gods, I never reached the Americas, the brave new world as they called it. No I found myself instead stranded on an island, not on any map, and one I am sure was moving. For the purpose of this retelling, I will refer to my watery prison as Bone Island, and if you continue listening, you will understand why. First of all however, my Name, my name is Theodore Saxon.