Author's Note
Please be aware that some of the content in this book is adult material and may be sensitive to some readers. Enjoy, comment, vote!

The crow's nest was the best place to escape Kelpie when he wanted help with crew meals. Myles crouched, peeking over the side. Below, a few of his friends scrubbed the deck tirelessly. The heat was especially radical today, and Fat Tom had already passed out from heat exhaustion. It didn't take much physical activity for him to quickly tire, but even Myles had to admit that he had been feeling sluggish. He was accustomed to the heat. The sun was his constant companion, as you could tell by his golden complexion and bright blond locks. The saltwater gave his choppy hair a misshapen tussle, and the wind chapped his cheeks just below his eyes. He was lean and tall, and his muscles were tight under the strain of his arms when he climbed the mast.

His blackened toes curled when he saw Kelpie come waddling from the Captain's quarters. The ogre was a direct descendant from the Dratsaci indigenous people, or so he liked to boast. He was overweight and bald, and his forehead was speckled brown under his pale blue skin. He stepped side to side when he walked, wobbling under his weight, and he usually carried a long iron mace over his shoulder when he wasn't in the kitchen cooking. He could make delicacies from all across Oren and was also experienced to the foods from his home-land, though not many crew members were interested in that.

Myles watched the cook eye each crew member in search of him, walk over to a few groups of people, whisper something unintelligible, and then stomp back down below to the kitchens. Myles leaned back in the nest and sighed in relief, wiping sweat from his brow. He untied a bandanna from around his arm and fastened it about his head, pushing the hair from his eyes. He stretched out with a yawn and tucked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. The salty air and the sound of rolling waves brought the young man into a tranquil place; it was a place full of concubines and ale and...

"You smell like you've been bathing in the bilge, boy," a voice said, suddenly bringing Myles to alert.

Freckles under a tumble of blonde hair stared back at him. Green eyes pierced his brown pools and for a second, he thought he was about to live his dream. But when he became fully roused he recognized those eyes and freckles and the tan skin and voice that accompanied them.

"Ah, Evie. I thought you were a whore for a second. Best not to sneak up on me like that in my sleep, or else I might have grabbed you and nestled between those breasts of yours." Myles pushed himself to his feet, and adjusted his bandana, flashing a smile and a wink.

The slender girl pulled herself up through the hatch and stood adjacent to him. "That would be, if you had a head to nestle. Kelpie told us if we find you then to send you straight to him so he can decapitate ya," she challenged, folding her arms across her chest.

The pair of them were close in age, though Evie seemed to be a few years older. Evie had been born on the ship, while Myles was discovered at the age of four, wandering hopeless in the hold. No one could figure out how he had stowed away on the vessel, but they adopted him nonetheless. They had handed him over to an orphanage on the mainland once, but he had been discovered aboard by the time they next left port. He was clever enough to make his way onto a ship without falling off the dock and being drowned in the swells of the ocean. And for that, he was useful. Since then, Myles had been taken into the care of the crew, particularly in interest of Kelpie, who sought after something of a squire. "More of a slave," Myles had jested once. Yet, as he had grown, Myles became a better pirate than half the crew. Captain Enigma was fond of the boy's talents as a plunderer and oftentimes relied on him for raids.

Nebula, who was Enigma's first mate, was an elemental elf, and was the closest thing Myles had had to a mother. She specialized in alchemy, and was usually at the foot of his bed when he was sick or injured. Nebula also raised Evie, since he could remember, and was very close to her as well. Their crew was similar to a family, though they could all not be any more different in race as well as appearance. And the most shocking of all, was their captain, an Eastern Satyr easily over 800 human years old, but looked as young and handsome as a royal.

"I'm not scrubbing the gruel from the pots anymore. I'm not a scullery maid, and he knows it," Myles replied, directing his eyes to the sea. 

"Just because you think yourself some great pirate, doesn't mean we don't have duties on this ship. The Siren's Song is our home and you contribute if you wanna live here," Evie scolded. A tiny brown monkey with white whiskers on its cheeks and a black stripe down its back shimmied up her leg and perched on her shoulder. "Take Cuinn, for example. He lives here, and he picks the lice and bugs out of Fat Tom's hair and from between his scurvy toes." She reached inside her vest and removed a cracker that she had stashed in her undergarments and handed it to the pet. Cuinn furiously attacked it with joy and when he finished, he lept to Myles' shoulder, his sad eyes begging for more.

Myles tickled the monkey's chin and shrugged. "Sorry pal, I haven't been to the kitchens..."

"Which we've all gathered," she huffed. She had a nice figure now that she had grown, and her hair, had it not been drenched by a morning swim, would've been flowing and shiny by this time of day.

Myles had caught himself noticing more of her womanly parts as they slowly developed, and he internally berated himself every single time. He didn't like her much, since she was always scolding him like a child or insulting him, but a young man of about seventeen couldn't ignore certain bodily cues.

"Are you ever going to learn to wear a shirt?" she mocked, cocking a brow at him. She outstretched her arm and Cuinn came back to his place beside her ear.

There she goes, making me forget that she was ever even attractive, he thought to himself. He pushed past her, and descended the nest quickly. Hmm, I wonder if Evie is a maiden or if she's been ruined. Myles himself had certainly bedded a woman, or so he would claim from time to time among drinking with other men who would swap stories of their conquests. He did fancy the company of a few whores but it worried him in his breeches when he heard those women talk about their experiences.

The boy sauntered lazily across the ship, exchanging looks with some of the men who bothered to look up.

"Yer in for a beatin," one man yelled across the way.

"Had to get a lady to fetch ya did he?" another one chuckled closer by, slapping Myles on the back as he passed.

But the boy kept walking until he stood outside of the Captain's quarters. He gazed at the ornate door for a long while before he had the courage to knock. Once or twice he had even looked back over his shoulder to check to see if anyone was watching. No one had been paying him any mind, except for a nosy few including Evie, who lounged in a pile of long rope and chewed obnoxiously on a morsel.

A few knocks was all it took before the door creaked open. Nebula towered over Myles, her long white braid thrown over her shoulder and her black robes clinging tight to her very thin frame. She peered down at him, her scorching black eyes contrasted interestingly against her pastel pink skin. Her lips pursed and she watched him for a moment before opening the door completely and gesturing for him to enter. Myles stepped through into the room, which was decadent in gold and silver. Treasure laid about the cabin, brass trays of rubies stacked as high as Myles himself and beautiful figurines strewn every which way. Pearl necklaces were draped over the backs of lush satin chairs and the curtains were made of the finest silk from Dratsac. Nebula backed out of the room without a word and left Myles to confront the stately figure that stood beside a war table to the left of the room.

Captain Durward Enigma was the fearless leader of the Hollow Rovers on their ship, The Siren's Song. He too, donned a braid, though his was not quite as long at his first mate's. Enigma's hair was dark brown, nearly black, his eyes a chocolate shade, and he had sharp features. His looks were classic and he was handsome as a king, though his lower half resembled a goat. His furry legs matched the hairs on his head, and his tail was a wispy white on the ends. The Satyr kept his hooves shined and wore a deep blue tattered velvet vest and a long blue coat as well, that was decorated in trims of gold and white. His matching tricorn laid on the war table in front of him. Myles watched as his captain bent over the table, seemingly puzzled, or maybe frustrated. Perhaps he was angry with the trouble the boy had caused with Kelpie.

"Sir," Myles started, scratching the back of his head above the knot of his bandana. "I know Kelpie complained about me but I just think I've grown past kitchen work. Give him a new apprentice. I couldn't tell a stew from gruel. I'm not some Jack Tar. Ya know my skills lie better on the battlefie-"

"Silence boy. Did Evie not tell ye I sent Kelpie to fetch a new 'squire' or whatever he's callin the likes of you these days?" Enigma stood straight and clasped his hands behind his back.

That rotten, no-good wench. "No Cap'n she must've forgot that bit," Myles answered. His knuckles turned white at first, but regained color once he realized what he had just heard. "But, sir, then you do know my skills are best used elsewhere," he urged.

Durward Enigma turned on his hooves and snatched up his hat, slapping it on top of his head. "C'mere son," he beckoned, pointing toward the war map. Myles obeyed and followed him to meet his gaze. "Do you see this?" he asked, his hand grazing over the region they referred to as the mainland; more specifically, the Great City of Ofund and Gruuthar. "This is the city where the king and his family lives."

Myles nodded. "Aye, Cap'n, I know." That was where the king and his obscenely wealthy family lived. The city was filled with rich old families and prominent with humans.

"Well, we just caught wind that the king is dying, and that he and Queen Alse have decided that Princess Dimia is fit to take the crown when that happens..." The Satyr's eyes glistened with hope and promise, or was it something else?

Myles looked between his leader and the table, his eyebrows connecting in the middle. "I don't understand..."

Enigma took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "What this means, Myles, is that pirating is about to become very distastefully political..."