Chapter One

Nightmare

 

The guardsman screamed a warning as he ran toward his hometown. One of his sworn duties was to protect everyone within their county and keep their borders of Cliffside secure. If he wanted to protect what he cherished most, he would have to take charge of the situation. “Call the fleet admiral and navy command! Assist the citizens to shelter! They are coming! Those pirates are coming!”

Earlier, the head of the guardsmen had seen the ship drifting in the distance. The flags were down, and there were no movements seen anywhere on the deck of the ship. It was only when the sun had begun its steep descent into the horizon that the ship emerged with a vengeance.

The flag it carried proudly waved in the air with a strict maliciousness. The intended target was the postman’s hometown where all his friends and family resided.

He was not going to let those pirates set one foot on his town’s cove without a decent fight. Those pirates presumed that this town only had food, supplies, and women to steal; but in reality, this was the town many pirates did not dare attempt to pillage from. After all, it was the hometown of the fleet admiral, Gerald Rothschild. He was best renowned for annihilating seven vessels that belonged under the Pirate King, Zaine. There had been a rumor that Zaine carried mystic jewels. And as the state was sworn to protect its citizen from any threats, the fleet admiral determined that the State would take charge of these stones. Even if it was only a rumor of a legend passed down, it could not be ignored.

The battle lasted seven days straight, and it only ended when the general boarded its enemy ship. Before Gerald could deliver the killing blow to his nemesis, Zaine escaped. The battle was over, but the war was far from done.

Zaine left behind his ship, The Autumn Lily. Not only that, but the fleet admiral found four unique stones in a private chamber. According to the written reports however, they were fake. Many of the general population believed the State kept the stones secret to prevent further chaos from spreading.

The existence of these jewels caused many to aspire breaking the conforms and regulations of their government, and caused many to resort into piracy. While others searched for the stones to gain more power within the State. Statesmen and pirates alike both succumbed to the temptation of increasing their power. In several sad attempts to gain these stones, both sides suffered the consequences.

As his legacy continued, the current Fleet Admiral Rothschild became a man to be feared. A majority of pirates found him to be their worst nightmare. This sole thought comforted the statesman as he ran the cobbled path.

His warning echoed as the young postman turned to the alcove of the tower. He climbed the stone steps and reached up to ring the warning bell. He had thought he was ahead of the onslaught. But he stuttered to a stop when the tip of a poisoned blade stuck into his ribcage.

The man gaped in silence, blood seeping on the corner of his lip. His last view was of his hometown colored in the rays of a blood red sun. He hoped his family would not be stained red with it.

“We can’t have you forewarn everyone.”

“You—you betrayed us?”

A man with black hair tied back in multiple dreadlocks smirked. He dressed comfortably for a regular denizen of Cliffside. His composure remained even as he twisted the blade further into his chest. He watched the man squirm in agony.

“Shall I tell you who I am?”

The guard choked up, as the blood seeped from the wound.

His assailant leaned to his ear, and whispered. “It’s Zaine, you fool.”

The man did not respond, and then he dropped to his knees. This common man was none other than Zaine in disguise.

The pirate disappointed by the swift kill, and pulled his sword out of the man.

Cracking his knuckles, Zaine wiped his sword clean and turned his attention over his right shoulder. Casually sitting in the shadows remained a young woman dressed in black.  Her eyes locked in an icy stare. Distinguishing features were her taunt cheekbones, fair skin complexion, messy curly hair, and piercing blue eyes.

“Target located.”

The man looked past the woman toward the sea, where his second ship sailed to port. If it wasn’t for that damned cur Rothschild, he would have still reigned supreme in the pirate realm with his pirate brigade as his front lines, but Zaine was not without countermeasures.

If there was one thing Zaine did not overlook, it was the unpaid debt. And luckily he was obtained and locked far away from Rothschild’s reach.

Zaine felt a thirst for revenge. Many of his ships that were under his name had been annihilated, and he knew just where to find his first ship and his stones.

He foresaw the lands soaked with blood. Men, women, children, helpless animals—they would all be spilled that fortnight, and that would not be all. Zaine wanted the agonizing deaths to be slow and painful. The older male merely thought to kill two birds with one stone with this one fatal trip. He fetched the target as his employer wanted, but now he had a vendetta to fulfill. This land, which was cherished by the fleet admiral, had to burn. It was only fair retribution for the loss of his fleets.

Zaine and the young woman watched as the ship turned to the starboard side and the cannons began to fire from the decks into the unsuspecting peace. The men who had started to pile out of the ship began their descent into the town.

Screams, crying, and cackling spoiled the last remaining silence of the evening. The men within his crew knew their orders. Zaine, on the other hand, had other obligations. He was headed to the main estate, where the general lived. There he hoped to make it the general’s eternal resting spot. That was if his employer had not already beaten him.

The goal all these pirates and avaricious men were one and the same. They searched for the beauty, a jewel said to grant wishes to anyone who dared the seas to find it. Zaine took advantage of their goals, and merged their ideals and fixations. He crafted and reigned an underworld outside the realm of the State, where men and women could do as they see fit. He became their monarch, their Pirate King, and soon led them to wreak havoc and chaos to the utilitarian states of Etrius.

All that mattered to Zaine was his own glory. He wanted to capture what the State desired the most. They believed the stone to be real, and he wanted them to be scared. He could imagine the horror-stricken faces on all the state officials hiding in their cabinet meetings should he succeed in his mission.

Zaine reached into his back pocket for a white mask and placed it upon his face. The mask covered his scars and duly-noted burn mark across the top left side of his face. His smirk evident, he sauntered toward the estate.

“Welcome to the never-ending nightmare. Forever shall you see the bloody reigns of fire and of me.”

 

 

۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞

 

 

The servant poured his cup full of tea. She finished her task with a slight bob of her head and proceeded to exit. When she was about to leave her master’s presence, the older male within his late forties ordered her to complete another task for him. “Call my niece to me at once.” The command now in place, the maid bowed her head and left the room to retrieve his niece. The general knew that something was coming, and he needed to confirm that his eldest niece was fit for the task ahead of her. She was the only one who could continue in his footsteps, but only if she wished to.

“You called me?” His niece appeared in the open doorway, looking just as radiant as her mother had years ago.

“Charlotte, have you ever heard of the tale about the Relic stones?” He saw his niece tilt her head to the side, allowing her auburn hair to fall over her shoulder.

“I have heard the pirates’ tale, but I thought it was nothing more than a child’s fable.”

Her uncle smirked at his niece’s tone. He knew of her abhorrent hate for pirates ever since her father’s vessel was attacked.

“Do you seek its glory?” His niece gave him the most bewildered look.

“Why would I, Uncle Gerald?” She was aware of the tale and knew of the possibilities, but she never considered actually seeking it.

“Perhaps it is for the best you feel that way.” He paused before gathering his hands together and stared at her. She was an adult in terms of the era, but she was still a child in his eyes.

“Take this ring,” he remarked, removing from his desk a small ring with the “Rothschild” emblem on the face of the silver sterling. “Your father would have wanted you to have this by your eighteenth birthday, though it’s a bit early.” He smiled at his seventeen-year-old while she gingerly accepted it from his open palm.

“It’s beautiful!” Charlotte smiled brightly for her uncle before trying it on her left hand’s middle finger and nodded in appreciation. “Why are you giving this to me now, Uncle? Are you going on a mission or voyage?”

“Not necessarily,” the man with dusky blond hair in a military uniform replied. “If you are ever in need of assistance, use the ring. You will get help from any state personnel if they recognize it. Is that clear?”

The girl nodded her head with a queer expression. “Yes but why?”

“I just want what is best for you, Charlotte.”

The auburn girl scrunched her forehead together, a frown appearing eloquently just as he expected. His words were confusing his niece after all, but when she opened her mouth to utter her complaints, she yawned instead. He had not expected to see her as tired or as heavy as she looked. Gerald merely silenced her with a raised hand. He had already known of what had happened during dinner, so to ease her curiosity, he smiled.

It was a rare gesture to smile especially after her father’s murder a few years ago. “Off to bed. You must be exhausted from eating earlier.”

Charlotte bowed her head. Confusion marred her beautiful complexion by his words about the Relic stones. She would probably wonder why her head felt fuzzy and then why her vision would start to blacken as she left his office. Yet she didn’t utter a word of complaint as she was led away by a servant waiting by the door.

Watching his niece go, he hoped his servants would lead his niece to safety when the razing began. When the door she shut audibly clicked, he sat and tapped his finger calmly against the oak. His sight had moved from the door, and over to another empty table. There looked to be an open game of chess. He walked over, the pieces laid out in and intricate battle. The black and white pieces had been moved haphazardly, as if locked in battle. Gerald took the white bishop off the map, as he moved the black queen into the bishop’s previous spot.  “Skylar lost for now, but Charlotte is in motion.”

He moved forward another chess piece, his white rook forward to challenge a row of pawns.

Gerald had surmised the fate that was to come and had to prepare accordingly. If he had any chance of making this plan succeed, he would have to fall into his enemies’ trap. He moved the white King to the spot next to his other rook, and sighed. His office was a closed-off room, with only two large windows and a door that led into his estate’s ornate hall.

He moved over to his bookshelf next, lifting up a book where a switch was hidden. He pressed the button and waited for the mechanism to shift open. There, laid inside the alcove of his shelves, was a black box locked shut.

“We will meet again Charlotte, Skylar.”

He retrieved the box and began to shut the alcove. When he was sure it was locked away, he walked over to the chess board. The window blew in the curtains, letting the ocean breeze permeate the atmosphere, and sitting in front of him was his chess companion. It was not every day his rival and personal fleet decided to greet him. The rival’s sword was drawn, the tip wet with red blood. It appeared the killing of his people in town had already commenced. Gerald knew it had begun when the woman spy had poured sleeping powder into their early dinner.

“I knew you would come,” Gerald Rothschild replied stoically. He sat down opposite of the brown-eyed man and placed the box he held onto the chess board. “Care to finish our session?”

 

۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞

 

Maids filed into the sleeping maidens’ room as cries of the unfortunate that were slain by the invading pirates were heard.

“Charlotte, please escape from here.”

It was disorienting at first; the cries had not reached the young ladies’ ears quite fast enough. Just as quickly as they stormed into her room, the maids under her uncle Rothschild’s employment pulled the one known as Charlotte from her bed. Her long hair fell in straight strands behind her back. Her hazel-colored eyes were clouded with sleep, and her face was disconcerted.

What on earth is happening? Where is Uncle Gerald? For the next three minutes, all she could really do was stare in confusion as her maids began to dress her into an easy-to-get-into, form-fitting crème dress. Charlotte felt her headache rise, and she noticed something out of proportions.

“Why are there fires everywhere around the estate?”

The maids gravely looked at their mistress and mentioned that it was the work of pirates. Further, they needed to leave the estate just as quickly.

The surprise attack had thrown everyone off kilter because they did not have the amount of personnel available. With this much known, Charlotte did her best to stay composed. Her uncle Gerald taught her how to defend herself if she ever needed to, but he had always told her that she must always seek shelter. That way, her uncle knew she was safe. Thus, the reason for their being a secret passage installed in her room that headed to the outside. The young misses actually enjoyed having a secret passage because it meant she could escape to outside the estate. She did not need to be cooped up in a stuffy estate all day long.

She hated the premise for why she was escaping through her secret passageway now. It was all because of those pirates. She had hated those tyrannical, diabolical miscreants ever since she was little.

She could remember it like it was yesterday; she was only fourteen when she heard tale of pirates attacking and slaughtering all those civilians on their passage. The civilian vessel was traveling from Chiariotti to a small coastal province near Torrek with medical supplies. Unfortunately, it was also the same vessel her father and Skylar were on.

That’s right, Skylar was the only survivor. He doesn’t remember the events, but I do.

Crawling through the tiny passage, she managed to calm her hatred for their kind and decided to talk with the maid. “Where is Uncle? What of my brother?”

The maid, following her, hesitated before answering. “Skylar escaped through the third secret passage within the east hall. Your uncle Rothschild was fighting the pirates, but he—” The young maid’s voice caught then, and she was choking back tears.

“What happened?” With more urgency, she pressed the maid for more information.

“I do not know but the rumors. It is said that a pirate intruded inside and demanded a fight, and the pirate won through dishonor. Lady Charlotte, I’m dreadfully sorry to have to tell you of this.”

Charlotte choked back her tears; she needed focus. She could not let her emotions rule her.

 “I will find out who committed this execrable deed and chastise him with my own hands.” Charlotte crawled to the exit of the passage, gritting her teeth and digging her nails into the palms of her hands. She would murder whoever murdered her uncle. She would have vengeance, for she was a Rothschild and a damned proud one at that.

Once she exited the passage, light pierced her like a knife. It hurt to stare at the sky so full of reds and oranges. The sun’s last portion was nestled far into the horizon where it continued to set. Ambiguously, the sun continued its cycle in time and space. How could such a beautiful event be tainted with such disdained cries for help and murderous intent? Charlotte knelt near the exit while she assisted the young maid who was behind her. She lightly grabbed the woman’s hand to help her gain balance once she was settled on firm ground.

“What happened to the others?” Charlotte asked her maid as she peered into the darkness of the passageway. The maid dropped her head in shame.

“They told me to follow you and keep you safe while they distracted the pirates that were coming. They were out to kill you and your brother next.”

Charlotte determinately stepped back toward the passage. “We must go back for them! They will be slaughtered if they remain!”

The maid grabbed her from behind, but Charlotte pushed her way through. The maid had to restrain Charlotte with both her arms, struggling with the young mistress as tears poured down her rosy cheeks.

“We cannot have their deaths be in vain, Lady Charlotte. They wished you to live! You must respect their wishes!”

Charlotte bit back her anger and felt her hopelessness at the situation. How could she argue with that? How could she let this happen to her kin? Her people? It was as if their blood was on her hands now and not on the hands of that abhorrent pirate.

Grabbing the mistress’s hand, the maid hurried the quieted Charlotte to the coastal pier by the west hall of the estate. The estate resided on the southern portion of the cove where it was settled on top of the highest peak. The maid, amidst running, explained to Charlotte that would be where her brother would be. Charlotte expressed a deep longing for her brother then. She wanted him to be safe, wanted to comfort him, and protect him. The young lady of the Rothschild clan decided right then and there that she would take her uncle’s place. She would purge the world of pirates and make the seas safe again for anyone who wanted to travel. She would avenge her kin, her townsmen, her maids—everyone.

They were making good distance between the shrubs and paths, the pier coming closer as the two put everything into running. The area around them was chaotic. Men from the estate and pirates were fighting, guns and swords clinking and clashing. Men were falling faster than Charlotte could count. What frightened the young lady of the Rothschild clan the most was the chanting that continuously flowed throughout the land. Gruff males singing one phrase that would haunt Charlotte until the day she died.

“Welcome to the never-ending nightmare. Forever shall you see the bloody reigns of fire and of me.” Charlotte could only imagine the blood that would forever stain those lands.

The maid avoided the fighting as much as she could, but Charlotte would never forget. She engraved the brawls, the blood, the tears, and the cries all to memory. She would not let them die in vain. Before Charlotte could effectively come up with a way to help her kinsmen, she was blocked from advancing any farther.

Charlotte had stopped suddenly, her vision blacking out unbeknownst to her. Her body was racked with a dowse of sleepiness just like earlier when she was with her uncle. She was wishing for sleep, aching for it, but her maid snapped her out from her sleep.

“Lady Charlotte! Lady Charlotte!” The maid grasped the young noble by her shoulders and yanked her down. Her body felt the heavy resistance of her maids as they both tumbled, blood coating the lands with red and fires scorching the once-green plains of Cliffside.

Charlotte looked past her maid’s shoulder to see a pirate sneering above them, his gun drawn in his left hand and a sword in his right. He pocketed his left-handed weapon to settle on his metal, slicing through their flesh instead of a simple bullet wound to the head. The auburn reacted quickly, grasping her maid’s hand and guiding her away.

The pirate seemed to enjoy the chase and pursued them through the chaos. Charlotte was running haphazardly through the grounds, avoiding the large groups of statesmen and pirates fighting. Her maid tripped on the skirt of her dress, making them both tumble harshly into the dirt.

Charlotte shook her head, trying to control the darkness that skirted her vision while her maid screamed in horror. Looking up, she saw that the pirate had reached her maid first, grasping a fistful of her hair in his hand. His sneering visage burned in Charlotte’s vision as his sword easily swung up and across her maid’s front. Blood spewed from the maid’s one side of her throat to the other, and she fell unceremoniously to the ground. Perturbed by the recent events, Charlotte backed away slowly, using her hands as guides to pull her away. The bite of the rocks into her palms kept her awake to see the blood spill out onto her maid’s white apron.

Charlotte shook her head. “Disturbed” was an understatement as she watched the pirate step over her gurgling form toward her. She would have screamed had her throat not felt tight and clenched. Fear prickled the back of her mind as Charlotte thought of dying just like her maid did. A metal sound resounded over her head as the current events played forward. A state’s official was pushing the pirate back with his sword.

“Hurry up! Leave this fighting to us.” The blood that caked his uniform was enough to let Charlotte know this was not going to end well for him or his officers. His enemy pushed his sword away, the clashing of metal rang loud in her ears. They continued to clash swords for a few more moments until the pirate made a mistake. The state officer swung his sword at the pirate’s open side, the pirate’s entrails pouring out as he groaned in agony.

Charlotte was in shock, only her body was once again yanked up by the state officer who had made the time to save her. He had let her hands go to direct her over to the coastline where more officers were guaranteed to be there. “I said go!”

He would have directed her forward with his guidance, but shots rang clear in the air. The state officer coughed up blood as his chest cavity welcomed three fresh bullets. A gurgling chuckle from the pirate behind them sounded like a dying man’s triumph through crushed windpipes. Had the state officer any grace left in his body, she had hoped he would slay him where he lay—but instead, he fell. There was no beauty or grace like she’d read in her stories of death. It was just instantaneous. It was morbidly disturbing.

Charlotte forgot how to breathe as her body was once again brought back down to the earthy ground. Her palms skinned the dirt, but she was more concerned for the state officer who had been shot saving her.

Ignoring the blood coming from his chest, she tried to press upon the wound in hopes it would heal. He must have guessed what she was attempting to do and used his strength left in his arm to push her to safety. “Get out of here.”

“Please do not tell me that! I cannot run anymore with the blood of my kin on my hands. Please do not let me have yours too!” The officer shrugged at her stuttering cries.

“This is what we’re trained for. Now leave.”

Charlotte fell back from him. Her skirt was decorated with not only her maid’s blood but his. She scurried back, struggling to stand up to get to safety. Standing on her own two shaky feet, Charlotte grabbed the hem of her dress and darted toward a path she presumed would lead to salvation. Her vision only saw red as she darted through the chaos.

Her last train of thought was interrupted just as the ground right next to her right foot exploded when gunshots imploded. Falling to her side, she scrambled away as more bullets kept crawling closer and closer to her skirt line.

“How much longer will you run?”

This was what fear was; it was the anticipation of the enemy attacking and killing while the weak were helpless and unarmed. With the fear came adrenaline that boosted the concept of vengeance even more. She would not fall here. Charlotte Rothschild had a mission to accomplish, and it was starting at that moment.

“Where are you, pirate!” She screeched out in newfound confidence. Her anger for the death of her people pushed her over the edge of reason. She was going to kill the man who ruined her life. She would kill him for taking away her uncle Rothschild and pushing her family farther away from one another.

“I have the pleasure of meeting with the eldest of the two siblings.”

Charlotte forced herself to roll sideways and looked toward where the voice was coming from. She was met with nothing.

“Are you the one who murdered my uncle?”

“I had heard rumors of your beauty, and I am pleased to say that they are true. It is especially so with your kinsmen’s blood coated on your face.”

Charlotte reached up to touch her cheek where a sticky substance graced her fingertips. She pulled her fingertips away to discover the clotting red ooze sticking to her fingers like a plague.

“I care not for what you think, you devious cur! I will avenge my kin with the honor of a Rothschild! You will pay for your ways!” Taking a deep breath, Charlotte pulled out a ribbon from her corset top, raised her hand up to her hair, and rearranged it into messy ponytail. She tried not to let the blood on her distract her from surviving.

“You fight with honor, you say? From what I hear, you have never even held a foil in your life. You were nothing but an ornament for Rothschild to tote around the estate.”

The voice was behind her now, and Charlotte shifted. As she shifted, two more bullets hit right by her arm.

“How dare you talk of honor and hide in the shadows while others do your bidding! The one with the revolver must surely take after you!” Charlotte winced in pain as a chunk of ground burst from the side, hitting her squarely on her arm.

Her opponents were situated around her, giving them both a great advantage over her. She would not allow him to have the upper hand. That was until a voice interrupted her.

“Claire, enough,” another deep baritone echoed near her. It was different than the one who was directly talking with the auburn, but the sheer sound of this man’s voice sent shivers down her spine. “At this current time, we are unable to kill her.”

Charlotte paused. Claire? I could have sworn someone by the name of Claire was hired only recently.

“No mortal is safe from me,” replied the first male who continued to coax her into anger.

Rage invoked her to shout back. To fight his taunts back with her courage. “Are you telling me this was all planned? How dare you underestimate a Rothschild’s strength!”

An ominous laugh echoed from a different location. “Your strength will only be to my advantage. You will fall by these hands this fortnight, and I shall exact my revenge on your doting brother. You should be grateful I am generously sending you all to hell together.”

Charlotte gave a throaty growl in fury. “I will never die at your hands, you coward! Come at me. I will prove to you here and now that I will succeed!”

She jumped forward, guessing where two more shots were fired. It was as if the pirates were leading her somewhere off the coast. She was getting farther and farther away from the estate and farther from the pier she supposed the state officers and guardsmen were located. Her hazel eyes searched, in hopes of there being a discarded weapon or even a living guardsman around. Those, however, were in short supply.

Her foot snagged a root, and she collapsed on the ground in a flurry. Her arm flew forward with the air dancing on her fingers. This was where she realized all at once where she was. The pirates cornered her.

Those two, Claire and her master, used their gunshots to purposely drive me away from the estate to the Cliffside, away from the coastal pier. They wanted me to be alone, which was why the mastermind persisted with that haunting conversation.

Laughter filled the air, and Charlotte stiffened. She was frightened. How could she have been so stupid, so naïve to think she was the one in charge? In the end, it was he who was in charge, and it would be this man who would decide when this game of cat and mouse would end.

How he appeared near her, it was like he melded into the atmosphere with acidic reflexes. Or it might have been her mind working in overdrive as the man dressed in a black mantle coat stepped toward her blithely. He was pointing his sword at her heaving chest from that far a distance, merely smirking. He knew what she was thinking. Pulling out another sword from inside his coat, he unceremoniously threw it at her feet while the other he raised in a combatant stance.

The man stood before her with glaring brown eyes that sent chills down her spine. Dread filled Charlotte as she looked at the discarded sword at her feet and his own.

“I think our game of cat and mouse has ended, Lady Charlotte. Come, pick up your sword.” The malice that sugarcoated his words made her forget where she was, and she slid back.

Only to realize there was nothing back there except for a wicked demise in sea. She swallowed the lump within her dry throat. She was frightened. She was going to die.

Charlotte, you need to stand and take the sword! Were your words just talk and no action? This sole thought sent chills down her spine. Despite the shaking in her fingers, she tried to reach for the foil and froze.

The auburn felt the despair course through her limbs. Or was it the terror setting in? Her heart was thumping heavily in her chest, her throat squeezing in protest. Charlotte could feel her anxiety rising even as she tried to swallow the fear into a small bubble. The hair on her arms prickled, beads of sweat formed upon her brow. She could not let these pirates see her vulnerability.

“You will regret handing me a sword. I will not die until I have your beating heart on a silver platter.” It was all just talk, and she stood up trembling.

She knew she was going to die, but at least, she would die with honor, trying to avenge her kin. She leaned forward, picked up her sword, and was assaulted with harsh emotions. She lived in the estate for about three to four years, but she recognized this rapier. This sword was her uncle’s; he had this blade by his side for protection. Speckles of blood covered the hilt and the sterling silver pommel, making her imagination run wild. She could not help imagining it being her uncle’s blood.

Why had her life turned upside down? Why did this man want to kill her family?

She just turned seventeen, and she was already on the path to death. She wanted to live a peaceful life, find the perfect guy, much to her distress—get married, have a family, and grow old. She wasn’t expecting her life to be shortened by some pirate.

He considered her words and smirked. Raising his sword, he spoke out in a frightening voice. “You are nothing but talk.” With each word he accentuated, he thrust his rapier at her, and clumsily, she met his sword with her own.

She had insisted her uncle Rothschild to teach her the ways of the sword, but he stated her hand-to-hand combat would be enough to repel any danger. He wanted her to incapacitate her assailant and run away, not be forced to kill someone.

As he once put it, “A refined lady should never have to kill, for that would tarnish your soul with regret and remorse.”

When her uncle’s murderer’s fifth attempt at slicing her failed, he pulled back his hand. She felt weird holding the heavy foil in her hand, and the scratches of blood appeared on her wrists like red beacons. It was a symbol of her weakness. It was a symbol of her life being toyed with at her own expense.

“Congratulations, you passed the beginner’s course. Let us see where you stand with an intermediate level.” He thrust forward at the girl and watched as she did something unexpected. The seventeen-year-old had to think of something. While she was not physically in control, she still had time to think of escaping.

Charlotte blocked his thrust with her own parry. She had watched his movements within those few seconds to see what thrusts could do the most potential damage.

She thoroughly knocked both of their swords out of their hands and leaned into his strength. By doing that, she had managed to slide into his defenses. Her mind went back to her hand-to-hand combat training with her friends in the academy. She remembered her friends using multiple grapples and flips to take down their opponent, and she decided it was her best course of action. Taking her left knee, she rammed it straight into his midriff, causing him to buckle over, and before she could slam her elbow in his exposed neck, she was caught off guard by a bullet grazing her shoulder. This was all the man needed to slam the girl into the ground.

Charlotte had forgotten about his two lackeys. Cursing her luck, she struggled underneath him. Her mind screamed at her to get something, a weapon, a rock—something. Her arm reached and scratched the earth where she thought the disregarded swords were. Her shoulder protested in agony as she moved; the man relished in her pain. He merely grabbed her throat and squeezed it until she was devoid of breath. Her vision started to darken, and the sense of sleepiness struck her like a freight train. She found it odd that she was being stricken with sleepiness once again. Could this have been predetermined? Were they drugged at dinner?

Charlotte forgot about the sword and slammed both her hands into his forearms, deciding that it would relinquish his hold on her if she hit him hard enough. The man just laughed at the futile effort.

“Would you like to know your murderer’s name before I send you to the next life?”

The man’s lucrative voice penetrated her mind blatantly. Charlotte could barely breathe at this point, trying desperately to get air. She hit him. She squeaked. She even garbled out profanities until she started seeing black spots.

“Not yet, my dear. You must stay with me for a bit longer. After all, you do resemble the one who betrayed me.” He pulled her up off the ground. His hand moved from her windpipe to allow her access to breathe, but it was only for a moment. She turned her body over and tried to crawl away, but he reached down and gripped the back of her head. He dragged her unceremoniously; his brute strength overpowered her writhing form until they reached the edge of the cliff. Her back collided painfully against a jutted rock. Her head spun from the pain, but it was the least of her concern.

“I must say you passed the intermediate level of swordplay as well. You had some open spots, but you are a natural. It is like your blood sings to use a blade.”

She felt his hands encircle her throat once again. Her body screamed once again as the flow of air was rejected. With her strength depleted, the man easily lifted her off the ground until her feet dangled helpless over the cliff. She peered underneath to see the vast ocean, and panicked. She was going to die.

Charlotte gripped with desperation onto his forearms. If she could get him to release her long enough, maybe she could pull him down the cliff with her. This man had other plans in mind for her though. He pulled her back from over the cliff, her feet gracing upon the grass knoll and jagged rocks.

“Your tactics remind me of those simple hand-to-hand procedures you students learn in the academy. Surely, you can think of something better than sacrificing yourself to drag me down.”

Charlotte widened her eyes in horror. Why would he know state martial tactics? Those maneuvers were not things most common people knew. Which meant one thing: this man was in league with the state.

“Clever little minx, but your quick wit will be your undoing.” He brought Charlotte’s writhing body over the cliffside once more. He leaned next to her ear to whisper, “Checkmate, Lady Charlotte.”

Then he let her go.

She half expected and not expected this situation to have occurred, but there she went. Her dress tangled between her legs as gravity brought her down.

She plummeted down the cliff as fear loomed in her eyes. Her screams were stifled by the lack of air, her mind reeling in horror as all the worst-case scenarios popped into her mind. She was weak from his suffocating grasp, but she tried her hardest to keep an eye on those three standing at the cliff. Gravity had other plans for her, making her dance upon the sides of the cliff multiple times and snagging her clothes. Charlotte wondered if she had been lucky in that small moment as she dropped upon a branch extending out. Her waist cried in agony as she snapped to a stop.

“Shall we head back Admiral Viktor?” His voice was still within her earshot.

The auburn struggled to look up at the one who commanded the pirates. He must have watched her plummet down and chuckled at her expense when she caught the wood. While she struggled past her pain to deliver a dark glare, she noticed his calculated look. The smirk that played upon his lips, the way he sneered at her pathetic form, and the resounding crack that finally echoed in her ears. The weight of her body must have been too much for the stagnant piece of wood, and once again, she began her descent.

“Yes. I will leave first, but be sure to entertain our new guests arriving shortly.”

The wind raged loudly in her ears as she fell until there was nothing. Charlotte couldn’t breathe, thanks to that branch taking the wind out from her lungs and tight corset. She also knew that it would be ten times worse underwater. Her dress was too heavy to even try swimming in, and she knew her body was in agony over her recent injuries. She would not have been surprised to find out she’d broken a bone in that descent.

Regardless, the sea would become her grave, and she wasn’t even able to discern who killed her kin. A man with piercing eyes. Slick hair. Unfamiliar.

Her only solace was of her brother. She just hoped that he escaped from Cliffside safely. Skylar . . . Please be safe.

Losing her consciousness, Charlotte plunged into the depths of sea and darkness.

 

۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞

“Damien, how close are we to our destination?”

This voice only belonged to the infamous Aden Summerfeld who once lived near the port city: Seriate. He belonged to the country of Bherghen, but he grew up close to the county lines of Seriate and the cold wilderness. His raven hair looked like messy bed hair dancing in the wind, and his emerald-colored eyes were one of many traits he flaunted. He was brilliant in his studies and, for three years, had attended one of the best academies this country had to offer. While his background was shrouded in mystery, the crew never doubted his word.

The navigator who had been steering with his hand turned the wheel as the wind pushed the vessel off course slightly, but he corrected the direction. He shrugged to his friend while looking ahead. His azure eyes gleamed intelligence and humor. The wind, which had been helping their flight, would inevitably go away and was now pushing them away from their destination. His white shirt was open at the collar, fluttered with the wind, letting the last bit of sun soak into his collarbone while he wore a deep-navy blue vest that accentuated his eyes. The wind was being persistent.

“We’re not close then, huh? Well, damn, I thought the sails were by and far in our favor today.”

Standing at the wheel was his older half-brother by ten months. He was the one who helped navigating the vessel as commander. Damien Drummond could not have agreed with him. Earlier that day, he was sure they would make it into town before the sun would set. That would also mean that they would avoid the strange looks and possible murmurs of being “pirates.”

It was surprising but most of the folks on his ship were young. They were merely an upper-class merchant ship, travelling around to different continents, delivering goods. When they stopped in towns to restock, they paid the merchants there to help boost the economy. This was only one of their assignments. Their second objective dealt with the state’s operatives. In other words, they were mercenaries hired to fight for the state.

Aden grunted. He turned his raven head to look away from his companion as he became suspicious of something in the distance. “Damien, I’ll take the wheel. I see the town in the distance. It’s strangely lit up though.”

“Smells like fire and smoke.” Damien’s nose picked up instantly.

“Go inform the crew. They might have been attacked by pirates.”

Damien balked with some humor, “You bossy son of a bitch. Are we preparing for battle?”

The captain stared into the distance, but with the sun almost gone, he could not make out much more. “No, not yet. We’re just here to see if the rumors were true. We’ll observe for the time being.”

Damien just smirked, rolling his eyes. He was used to Aden calling the shots, so he did his best to lighten the mood Aden sourly put the crew in. The warrant officers and crew did not approve of Aden’s behavior when he was first introduced, but after they warmed up to his icy exterior, he was a formidable friend to have. He had also gained the respect and support from them when he won against his oldest sibling, Xavier Drummond. He was seven years his senior, but after winning the captain’s title from him, Aden sailed them around the world without caring about the state’s true goals in mind.

Xavier had been the captain of the beautiful ship known as the Division, but when he was playing poker against the current captain, there were the typical shortcomings and opportunities for cheating. After drinking plenty of alcohol and not recognizing his younger sibling to have cheated, Xavier lost everything when they began wagering their titles of being captain and commander. Later on, the older male would claim he did it because he hated backing down from a challenge.

In the end, they ended up switching roles, and for the most part, the crew didn’t mind when they started to appreciate Aden for who he was. Xavier did not have much care for a title because he knew the title was all that it was. He understood that it was also a means for the state to keep them in line with their protocols and plans, and that to the older male was just another chain to keep him tied down. All he wanted to do was sail his father’s merchant ship, delivering goods and exploring the globe in search for adventure. Damien did not mind about their switch in titles as long as they were all together during their missions. His family was what kept him grounded in the long amounts of time working for that government entity.

“Damien, quit daydreaming about having sex.” This caused the Demeuillieun boy to jump out of his stupor and to shout angrily back at his companion. Aden nonchalantly took the verbal backlashing with a smirk, and it never ceased as he sensed Damien becoming more flustered.

“Aden, why the hell ’d you say that! I wasn’t thinking about sleeping with anyone!”

This only caused Aden to give a shrug. “Just wanted to get your attention.”

The blond-haired male felt his face flush a deep crimson while he turned sharply away. “Shut up, you stupid perverted state officer wannabe.”

Aden’s smirk broadened. “I wasn’t the one thinking about it. You were.”

Damien huffed at Aden’s statement and was about to make a retort if it hadn’t been for Sarah walking up the stairs to the steering wheel. She was wearing her form-fitting dress that was a deep- green color. Leo Ashcroft, warrant officer three and close friend to Damien, had gotten the dress while he was out at the previous town because he was tired of seeing Sarah dress like a man. Damien knew the real reason behind why he got the dress, especially because the color looked amazing with her emerald eyes and glossy permed hair. It was also those eyes that held retort and sarcasm. Even though she had her moments of rage, the crew on the vessel knew that they could rely on her if they ever needed a lady’s advice.

For him, it was strange to travel the world with her. Damien knew his father had tried to arrange a marriage between him and the Moreno clan. Luckily, Xavier was able to put an end to that silliness when he told their father to mind his own business. While the blond Drummond knew his father only meant well for his future and the future of their prominent merchant clan, he honestly wasn’t ready for marriage or having children for that matter.

“Aden, your face is all red. Did you get sunburned? You know you should take better care of yourself!” She reached him in no time at all and pulled a bandana out from her concealed bosom pocket her makeshift black corset had. Damien forgot to mention that Sarah was vying for Aden’s everlasting attention instead of his, so it somehow worked out in the end. Of course, her affection never ended how she wanted it to, especially since he ignored her half the time.

“Put this over your head, Aden.”

Aden shoved her concern away by turning his head away.

“Tch.”

Another older gentleman with a beanie and a tattoo of a crescent moon and stars under his left ear appeared from below the deck to see smoke now billowing from the east. His navy blue eyes widened as he noticed the fire was spreading across the line of shore, just indicating how terrible the situation was. He also could see that their “new” captain was being hit on. It was all perfect timing as Xavier fumed in anger as the end of spring’s wind danced through his sweat-dripping bangs.

“Damned wench, you have impeccable timing when a port city is burning down. And he knows how to bloody take care of himself!” Gruffly, the man turned his head in the direction of the potential town. There was something peculiar about the smell, it had a familiar resonance they all knew too well. It wasn’t their duty to tend to towns that had been pillaged or even defend them. The State hired them soley as auxiliary means. But that didn’t mean Xavier liked leaving someone to die. Xavier knew that they would get in trouble if it was discovered they intervened a pirate attack. But how could they remain still?

“Xavier, how dare you say that to me! I should have you know that if I was home, you would be groveling with treasures at my feet!” Damien sighed as he grabbed the telescope that was attached to his belt loop. The Moreno clan was highly funded through their merchant shops located around the Na Luna province, Torrek, and Liliec. It would be an understatement to say that she came from just a rich family. Damien offered his older brother his telescope as Sarah glared daggers.

“Good luck, sweetie, but I swing for the other team.” Lifting the telescope to his right eye, he spied three to four pirate ships with an all-too familiar insignia. “It’s him.”

“Aden,” Damien spoke, terror on the tip of his tongue as he turned his attention to him. Aden was staring in the same direction with concentration to kill.

“He’s picked a particular spot to ravage.” The raven nodded his head before looking through the scope Xavier offered. Sarah bickered in the background as he continued gathering intelligence. Aden sighed. He wasn’t able to concentrate due to her incessant chatter, so he passed the telescope back to his blond navigator. Turning to the tanned-skin lady, he glared right back.

“Sarah,” Aden coldly addressed her with a pierced look, “the town is burning to a crisp, so unless you would like the cleanup duty, you should take heed with your stupidity.”

The girl with permed brunette-haired flinched, but Xavier was not deterred by his younger sibling’s remark.

“Oh, so now it’s her fault,” Xavier quickly stated. “You’re the one who started this by flirting with—” He never finished as two males with sandy brown hair jumped down from out of nowhere. They were dressed in the traditional garb of a pirate with a white open sleeved tee shirt with lacing keeping it half open in the front.

“Leo, Jakob?” she asked them with confusion, and they saluted.

“We’ve got all the supplies ready downstairs, Captain!” Jakob Preston said.

“Here’s the map,”  Leo rolled out the map to show them their current position. “Looks like Cliffside to me. Wouldn’t that make this the Fleet Admiral’s place,” Leo Ashcroft stated with enthusiasm and fright. “If we go in, we could be slaughtered.”

Damien perked at the mentioning of the fleet admiral. “Didn’t he have an extended battle with Zaine? That would possibly explain why Zaine brought the fight to him.”

Aden narrowed his eyes. It seemed he found out why Zaine would choose this particular location to strike. The man was not someone to leave debts unpaid. “Hmm.”

Xavier was annoyed by the two boy’s standing on his aching back. “Can you get off me already?”

“Can’t,” replied the males with chagrin.

Jakob continued with a smirk, “We can’t go ’til the captain releases us from our posts.” Xavier growled that he used to be the captain, but Aden waved the two away.

Once they were off his back, Xavier sat up to rub his lower spine slowly. He was getting too old to be playing around.

“What are we waiting for, Captain Aden?” Jakob looked out into the horizon with Damien.

“Yeah, there might be damsels in need of rescuing in that town!” Leo piped in as he ran over to Damien’s other side.

Sarah thought about it for a second. “Why would someone so heinous do such a thing to innocents?” she asked.

Xavier saw Aden turn a dark glare toward the burning town, his mind already living in past memories. “They are pirates. They plunder. They steal. They rape, murder, and take what they want,” Xavier stated with a tint of sadness. “They are also probably looking in vain for those Relic stones. Who knows if they truly exist or not?” This peaked Aden’s interest before Xavier had time to comment further.

“They exist,” he deadpanned. Everyone shifted their attention to his statement.

“Aden,” Damien said slowly, “the Relic stones are nothing more than a myth. The state even mentions it’s a fable for upcoming pirates.”

“Then you’re brainwashed like the other fools.” He gave them his usual cold remark, and once he did this, it instantly became a conversation breaker.

“Leo, Jakob, head down into the ship and alert the crew. Take Miss Moreno with you.” Aden finally spoke.

Sarah shook her head pretending to be hurt. “Well, if Aden says so, I must oblige. This lifestyle is incredibly harsh for mercenaries like us.” Damien raised a blonde eyebrow. Before he could say something, Jakob started running circles around her.

Leo jumped in with his two cents. “You’re not a mercenary.”

“You’re more like an accessory.” Jakob piped in.

Sarah smacked both the boys. “I will castrate you both.”

Jakob and Leo grasped onto her arms, suddenly pulling her with them as they finally followed Aden’s command. Angrily, she relented.

“This isn’t how you should treat a lady!”

The three remaining males residing on deck remained still, unsure of the events that had just occurred. It was unfortunate that none of the females on board was normal and sane. Their chef was also female, but when she was angry, it was not pleasant to be around.

Before anyone could say anything about it though, Damien gaped when they broke the horizon. Through the telescope, the blond had seen something. “Aden, someone was thrown off the cliff!”

Damien, Xavier, and Aden ran to the side of the ship. There they could see the flailing form of a young lady drop. Her eye-catching auburn hair fluttered, and her skirt tangling between her legs. It lasted for a moment before they saw her crash onto a branch. Her body curled sickeningly over causing the three to wince. That impact must have surely broken a few ribs.

They noticed that she struggled to look up, and they followed her gaze.

The three saw particular people dressed in a similar fashion of Captain Zaine’s fleet. While one had begun their retreat away, the other two remained fixated, looking down. The woman and the man were respectively known as Claire and Zaine. As a whole team, they had not run into this deadly duo; they only heard of their impeccable death runs.

The pirates must have noticed their ship closing in as Zaine immediately looked upon the trio. His white mask obscuring his face, but everyone knew seeing that mask meant certain death. This Pirate King smirked toward them.  

Chills ran down all their spines.

“We can’t let them get away with this!” Xavier growled out as he charged over to the steering wheel. “What of the girl? Does she look alive?”

Damien found the girl not dangling on the branch. “She’s gone!”

Aden sprinted to the starboard side where their drifters were tied. Two of their crew members had been gathering their weapons when Aden summoned them to his side.

Xavier called out, “Quick, call a man overboard protocol! Huh? Where’d Aden go?”

The large splashing sound gave away the captain’s location as Damien pinpointed him. He had needed the moment to determine that the splashing sound was indeed Aden with two of their crew mates.

“Aden took a drifter over to save the drowning person.” Xavier sighed, shaking his head as his younger sibling ignored company protocol. Again. Some of the enemy fleet had noticed their arrival, and they began shooting at them. 

He narrowed his azure eyes. “Thanks for asking, brat!”

Xavier felt the anxiety slowly start in his lower back as he thought of the oncoming battle. “Commence battle protocols, Damien secure the helm. We’re in for a fight.”

Damien nodded. “We can only do what we can to avenge those who are dead. Let’s hope we can get reinforcements from Admiral Chief Julian.”

Water imploded port side as cannon balls started to rain down.

Xavier bellowed to his now rushing crew mates getting the ship ready for battle. They pulled the canons forward and set the first rounds out to their enemy. “Have Sarah prepare the telegram! Hurry!”

Xavier watched Damien run down the stairs toward galley below. Ringing a bell of battle, the crew all prepared to hold their ground.

“Markus, Leo, get the harpoons ready. Jakob and Michael, get the sails down. Wolfe, you and the guys get the second round of canons ready. Let us win this battle! For Victory!”

The men roared an agreement as Xavier stood triumphantly at the steering wheel. “It feels good to be in charge. At least, until that brat comes back.”