Evan sat on a chair by his desk. Stacks of coins were placed on one edge, and right beside them were papers with the names of each man in the crew. A lone candle lit the whole desk as the captain wrote on the paper with a dark feather. The room was on the smaller side, with one bed in the corner and a chest beside it. A small oval window was right behind the desk, a bit of moonlight rays coming through it. On the opposite side of the room, there was a shelf with trophies. Parts of unique animals like skulls or horns and small ornaments. Right beside it, there were two chests, and one of them was slightly open, revealing coins that were inside. Even though he had a lot of money, he kept his room modest. A reminder of his past.


    A slow and light knocking made him stop his work. “Come in, Edgar.” Said the captain as he put down his pen and looked straight forward. As the door slowly opened, they revealed the guest, the man who had fought with Navia and suffered an injury. He only wore linen pants and boots. His stomach was covered with a bit of bloodied bandages.


    Edgar opened his mouth to speak, but once the captain put his hand up, he stopped mid-gasp. “Before you say anything, I wanted to apologize. If I knew beforehand she was from Order of Tomorrow, I wouldn’t send you to fight her. Or anyone at that. I’ve made a bad decision. Forgive me.” Evan tilted his head so low he almost touched his desk, his words genuine with concern and guilt.


    “There is no need for you to apologize, captain. I know you very well. I know you wouldn’t throw your men into death’s hands. You are not like the rest of the pirates out there.” Softly answered Edgar, comforting his captain as he slowly closed the door and sat on the chair in front of Evan.


    “Thank you…” Evan still had his head low as well as his gaze; all he could see were bandages on his crewmate. “How is your injury?” He asked, looking Edgar straight in the eyes with concern.


    “Not as bad as we thought. It could have been worse…” Edgar trailed off as he placed a hand on his wounded abdomen, reimagining the moment he got that injury.


    “Yeah. Luckily, she had no poison on her dagger.” Said Evan with a scoff at the end. Bitterness didn’t leave his mouth after their fight.


    “That’s not it.” Quickly said, Edgar, reflecting on the fight and what he learned through it about Navia.


    “Then what do you mean?” Asked confused Evan with a frown on his face as he tried to figure out what he meant.


    “When we were fighting. She didn’t try to injure me. All her attacks were aimed at killing me instantly. She could have left more cuts on me, but that wasn’t her goal. Once all of us jumped her, that’s when she changed priorities. Her main target became Astin, and we were just in the way.” Explained Edgar with a bit of admiration.


    “So she wanted to end the fight quickly. Maybe long battles aren’t suited for her-” Evan trailed off as he tried to figure out his new prisoner.


    Edgar cut in before Evan could continue his speculation, wanting to give him the answer. “No. It was clear. She hated us but didn’t want unnecessary blood. She was aiming for a quick and merciful death. Except for Astin…”


    “Well… Astin did try to rape her. So no wonder he was the main target.” Evan said uncomfortably, letting out a tired sigh.


    “What do we do about her? Do we sell her? Or let her go?” Asked Edgar, leaning his arms on the desk to get closer to the captain. He thought that it was a matter they needed to discuss.


    “We could kill her…” said Evan sarcastically as he scoffed at the idea. “That’s what some of the crew would say… That’s what all the pirates would say. We are different.” Evan’s disgust turned into pride, he always hated when people compared him to pirates.


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    “You have something planned?” Asked Edgar, caught off guard by the sudden mention of killing her and leaving a space for another solution.


    Evan placed his head on his fist as he explained his plan. “Of course I do. Either we release her or sell her as a slave, it will end the same way. The day we meet again, she will try to kill us. So we will sell her to the worst client possible. To those rich bastards…”


    “So she would have a hard time escaping?” Edgar asked, but just by looking in the captain’s eyes, he knew that his guess was wrong. “No… You have something different on your mind.”


    “She is strong, and her ability to turn blood into a weapon gives her an advantage for surprise attacks. A slave, without anything, suddenly has a knife pressed to your throat. One wrong move, and those bastards will get killed by her. I’ll get a lot of money, and she will get rid of those fat pigs.” Explained Evan with his fearless eyes. He was hungry for the death of those above him, and Navia would bring that feast for him.


    “Glad to see you’re still the same captain.” Edgar stood up with a smile, but before he could take a step away, Evan hit the desk with four golden coins. He looked at the captain for a reason he was going to give him the money.


    “Recompensation for the injury.” Said Evan before he went back to his paperwork.


    Edgar’s eyes lingered on the coins, he didn’t want them. “Same as always. I hope the past will stop to hunt him like that.” Edgar kept those words for himself and took the coins before he left the captain’s cabin.


    “That’s right… I need to give compensation to Michel… And August for his brother’s death.” Whispered to himself as he wrote those names on a paper, but he stopped when he had to write a number of coins. “How… Do I value the life of my own crew…” Evan said louder than he wanted as he looked at the ceiling.


    “I need a fucking drink.” The man suddenly kicked himself away from the desk and opened one of his chests, inside there were clothes and in each corner a bottle of whiskey. He picked one, and in one breath, he drank one-fourth of it. “Enough hard work for today. Time for some me time.” Evan giggled as he sat down on his bed, but between those laughs, a tear fell down to the ground. “For the future we could have, Eric.” He lifted his bottle as if someone was in front of him, sharing a drink. He then downed the rest of the bottle.


    A pirate named August with a characteristic scar under his eyes checked through a small window how the captain was doing. Seeing him drink, he smiled and left. “He won’t be able to stop me now…” He whispered to himself, walking toward the staircase down the ship. On the lowest floor, there were cages for prisoners - future slaves. The place had a strong and nauseating stench resembling an unpleasant scent of piss. Near the bars, there were wooden bowls, some of them still had bits of water in them. Right beside them, there were stains left from food, slowly rotting. Treating the slaves like dogs.


    The wave of whispers halted as they heard the upcoming footsteps. August took out his saber and lightly struck it against the prison bars. Each man and woman moved closer to the wall and curled up into a ball, not daring to poke their eyes out to see who it was. The sound of vibrating metal stopped, and August looked to his right side. Inside the cell, there were two women and Mirabell lying close to Navia, who was chained up to the wall. The two of them seemed to be asleep while the remaining two women shaked in fear.


    As the man opened the doors to their cell, they began to whimper in fear. One of them silently apologized as she feared she was about to be punished for something small. August didn’t even bat an eye on them; his angry gaze was focused on the woman he had wanted to kill earlier. “Now he won’t be able to stop me…” The man whispered as he took a step closer to Navia. “For my brother…” He raised his saber and aimed the tip of it at Navia’s throat.


    “If you want to end up like the baldy, you better walk away.” Navia said as she slightly lifted her head, not hiding her murderous intent, making the man take a step back. His hand was shaking, and the saber in his hand showed it even clearer.


    “How… She should still be asleep. It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet…” August couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. His shock was from her being awake rather than her threat, but as his chain of thoughts continued, “If she woke up so early, she could kill me…”


    He woke up from his daze as he felt a sting on his cheek, touching the place he felt something moist. As he looked at his hand, it began to tremble even harder. It was his own blood.


    “That was my last warning…” Even though it was just a whisper, the man heard it even clearer than any scream or command given to him in his entire life. Those weren’t simple words, a statement. They carried a clear intent that he unconsciously understood. The man cautiously took a few steps to leave the cell, and once he was out, he ran away.