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!

A foul smelling aroma flitted through the air. It smelled of sour fate. The best part about being a meta-human was the immense high that accompanied being blessed with such power. The worst part, was when your power gave you something you did not ask for. Captain Chesney Chaos conquered the seas of Oren and won herself that first chair in the Seven Swords with that cognitive ability, but also damned her to an eternity of annoying visions that she wanted naught to be bothered with. It was the one downfall, and the thing that had turned her cold and hard as stone. She sat, her feet propped up on the council table, airing her face in the reflection of a knife. Her eyes squinted at the scar down the inside of her cheek and a rush of disgust fell on her. Kristo Knox and his cow of a wife. Evelyn Knox with her swollen lips and long flowing hair. A whore bride he wanted and it was a whore bride he got.

Chesney still remembered the stinging she felt when Evelyn Knox cut her; the blood was so hot and the gash quite deep. Now, because of their dirt spawn, she would have to hold a trial. She had envisioned Thatcher and Enigma's crews sailing back, with a boy in chains, the Knox girl in soiled clothes, and a flayed man bruised and bloodied and dead. Apparently the little bird hadn't been subjective to a good bedding and the pirate boy came to her rescue. She had been watching Enigma and his decisions, to see what course of action he might be taking. Captain Chaos had felt his negativity during the council meeting and his contempt of her plan to kill the would-be Queen Dimia. If he decided to betray her, she would soon know. Things took an interesting turn when she had a vision of Enigma and Thatcher having dinner so soon after the meeting, and she had to wonder why they decided to do so. But, by that time, things were too hectic and the pair were already sailing back for a trial.

Reska entered the room, her cat tail waving gently behind her. She unhooked her pouches and dropped them with a clatter to the tabletop. Her hand reached down the back of her pants and she pulled out another pouch, which when dropped made a much lighter clinking sound.

"Lifted a nice gold piece from a fishing merchant's son down by the docks. Don't know how the little rag got the thing in the first place. And there's a couple o' rubies I snagged from one of Madame Boucard's whores. She musta slept her way up the Oren hierarchy." Reska sat down in one of the chairs, the one reserved for Enigma during their meetings.

Chesney fingered the pouches but didn't bother opening them up. "I've got too much on my mind to bask in your treasures right now, Res. We're to have a trial this afternoon."

The cat-woman's eyes twitched, and the corners of her mouth turned up, exposing two sharpened bicuspids. "Did that traitor Enigma decided he's acting against your command?" Captain Chesney's first mate was just as sneaky and cold-hearted as she was, and loved a good trial now and again. Her favorite part was the sentencing, since it almost always ended in a sentence of death or amputation of one or more useful body parts.

"No, but it does concern a member of his crew. Handsome young lad, with platinum hair." She tossed the pouches one by one back at Reska, who pushed them into a pile.

"Oh, I know the one you mean. I've seen him at Cap'n Kelly's before. Handsome, he certainly is," she agreed, purring.

"Yes, he stabbed a man to death for that twat, the Knox girl," Chesney replied in disdain. She hawked and spit across the room. "The boy has grit, but he killed another captain's man. I think we'll hang him and leave him as decoration outside of our walls here," she decided with a shrug.

Reska stood and gathered her pouches in her hands. "I'll bring these to your quarters on the ship. And then I'll send word to Cap'n Kelly that there's to be a hanging so's he can tell the blights at the inn." She left Chesney alone again.

A trial was the last thing she needed at this moment. She had bigger plans, more important plans. Her plot to invade Ofund and Gruuthar would be difficult, and would take time and manpower. She had concluded that her forces would have to grow immensely and that all of the pirate council would have to agree to become part of her fleet. Captain Chaos was extremely confident that all of them would stand behind her, if not for loyalty than out of fear. But then Thatcher spoke out of turn, and so did Enigma's first mate, Nebula. There had been an obvious tension hanging above them all, and it had made Chesney wary of them. If they abandoned, they would be tried and killed for treason amongst their own kind. If they abandoned and somehow managed to find shelter in Ofund and Gruuthar among the new queen and rich households, they would burn and fall during the siege. She decided that she would address it at the trial tonight, alone with Enigma. His honor wouldn't allow him to refuse private audience with her to discuss such matters. So Captain Chaos waited, and plotted, and waited some more.

*****

The wine tasted even sweeter knowing that she would have two bodies hanging by the end of the night: the pirate boy who murdered a fellow pillager, and his captain, a satyr with no business running his own crew. Whether or not Enigma was planning on disobeying her orders, Captain Chaos decided that she'd accuse him of influencing the boy to kill the pirate, and hang him anyway. No one could prove otherwise, and her word was final; it would be safer to have him dead without the possibility of a betrayal. And, she would successfully be able to commandeer the Siren's Song and add it to her fleet.

She slumped in her chair and relaxed warmly in her coat. Behind her, a fire blazed strongly under a mantle, decorated with shrunken heads of pirate enemies and pieces of remembrance for the great plunderers who passed on. One day, there would be a piece of her on that mantle, and it would look more magnificent than any other memorandum.

A knock played on the stone walls by the entrance, and the curtains pulled back. Reska entered, followed by, in order, Captain Thatcher, Nebula, the Knox spawn, the boy in chains, Captain Enigma, and the body of the mangled pirate, carried by two of Thatcher's crew on a plank. He was covered with one of their flags adorned with Thatcher's sigil of two saluting mugs full of blood.

They stood around the table while the two who carried the dead man awkwardly set down the plank. They removed his covering and exposed a hole-y fellow, with an arrow sticking through his neck. He had remained untouched, as it would seem. He was even stained with blood and his manhood hung limply out of his pants.

The Knox girl remained bloody as well. They no doubt wanted to use her appearance to appeal to Chesney's gentler side, and how foolish they were to think it. The young pirate on trial stood with his head hanging low, his eyes pressed into the floor. Enigma had his hand clasped on the boy's shoulder sternly. It could've been a hostile or protective gesture. This, Chesney couldn't decide. Captain Chaos stood from her seat and leaned over the table. She pounded her fist, three times, to signify the commencement.

"Today we gather to hold trial for the death of..." Chesney began, motioning to the lifeless body on the table.

One of the men who carried him in removed his bandana to reveal a scalp and balding head, and he held the thing to his heart. "That there was Reginald," he sniffled.

The second man, who looked to be human but heavily resembled an elf in some of his features, spoke up as well. "Reggie, we called him. He was a nasty bit, but we loved him and he was a good pirate, your grace-ful-ness-ship," he added with a curtsy.

It was evident they were still intoxicated; when you sailed under Captain Thatcher there was no other way to live than with a drink in your hand. Chesney sighed and looked back at the corpse. Damn it did this boy do some beautiful work on the bastard. She let her eyes wander around the room. Reska stood close by, and she seemed fixated on the boy. Chesney disregarded him and spoke directly to Durward.

"Captain Enigma," she started. "Is it true that your man killed Captain Thatcher's dear Reggie?"

The satyr shifted and took his hand off of the young man he had been holding onto. When he opened his mouth to answer, the Knox girl stepped forward and put a hand on the chained pirate's back.

"No, ma'am, tis not true. I had the weapons aboard my rowboat and when this man tried to rape me, I killed him. Myles simply found me." She wrapped her arms around herself tightly and her eyes kept flickering to the defiled painting of her father on the wall.

The boy called Myles lifted his head and snapped around to face the girl. "Evie, no." He jerked his head to the side and Nebula grabbed Evie by the arm, pulling her back to her spot.

"But that's the truth. I swear it!" she objected loudly, drawing against Nebula's grip.

Durward brushed his fingers against her cheek to silence her and he turned his attention to Captain Chaos. "Yes, Captain, that is the truth of it. Young Myles came to Evie's aid and he killed Reginald in the process. I don't believe he had malicious intent--"

"Malicious intent?" Chesney interrupted. "You can look at this mangled body and not think he intended to do this? I find that difficult to believe, Durward."

"I only meant--"

"Ye only meant that he hacked this man to pieces because he caught him doing something most pirates in this league spend every day doing. And instead of reporting it, or letting him finish off Evie Knox and then bringing the man to the council for trial, where he would have been punished, he savagely killed him for his own chance between the girl's thighs." Chesney could feel her face heating and the adrenaline coursing through her veins. This would be it. This would be her chance to take the satyr fool down, and acquire the Siren's Song.

Durward said nothing in reply. He simply hung his head like the prisoner, and waited for the trial to continue. Thatcher hadn't said anything so far, and he looked less drunk that usual; he looked alert, even. Perhaps he knew his man was wrong, but had good reason to keep his mouth shut. Chesney took a deep breath and covered the body with the flag once more.

"Thatcher, what say you?" she asked.

He grumbled something unintelligible to himself and scratched the back of his head.

"Louder, so we can witness your claim," Chesney barked.

The captain looked at his men, who stood broken and somber by the death of their friend. Then his gaze found Myles, who stared at him expectantly. "Well, I'm just confused. Maybe even impressed. Maybe," he said, his hands playing with the gun on his hip. "The boy shot him from afar, in the dark of night. It be a hard shot for even the most skilled archer or gunman. I just dunno what to make of it all. So... maybe it was the girl..."

The room turned to stare at the platinum locks that were shaking. Myles looked up at the drunk captain and shrugged. "I just knew it. I dunno how I did it properly. I saw him rise at the perfect moment in my mind and I took a shot at the slimy git to save my fellow crewman. I told ye already. It was a lucky shot is all. A gut feeling. I was--"

"Quiet," Chesney commanded. She squinted at the boy. He saw the man's move in his mind, he says. "Are you a meta-human, boy?" she asked, curling her finger toward herself, beckoning him forward.

He straggled closer with a push from one of Thatcher's crew and shook his head. "No, ma'am."

Captain Chaos sauntered over to him, inspecting his stature. He was tall and of medium build, pretty muscular, and had a handsome face that struck a flame in her memory. His hard eyes and scarred chest and arms told her he was either a fearless or reckless pirate; recklessness was why he was there. Her ability allowed her to know the truth of things when she touched a person on trial. What she did with it was always up to her, and no one really knew if she rang the truer verdict. This was a powerful ability among the pirates, the council especially, and no doubt attributed to some of her success. It gave her a heavy influence over her peers throughout her pirating life.

She extended her hand to Myles. How curious, Thatcher's claim. But the boy denies having a meta-gene. Myles lifted his shackled hands and held them out to her, unable to look the pirate leader in the eye. Chesney smiled. He was horrified, knowing that this was the end of his life, and she liked men horrified. Her hand laid gently on his and she closed her eyes.

Her corneas went wild under their lids and she replayed the scene through Myles' perspective. She witnessed his vomiting, then his concern when he saw the rocking rowboat. And then she saw his quick wit, which had a silvery aura to it, and his decision to shoot the man out of fear. Fear of what? She asked herself. Her question was answered immediately with the swelling feeling in her -- well, his -- chest. Ah, a deep admiration for the girl. How unfortunate to love a Knox.

Chesney continued through the dreamscape, seeing Myles retrieve the crossbow and coming back to his spot to take the shot. But a quick flash took her off guard and she could see through the eyes of the dead man. It was only a few seconds but she saw him lift from his position to throw a punch down at the struggling girl beneath him. And then she regained Myles' sight, and just as quickly shot the man dead. He could see his actions before it happened. He knew exactly where to shoot and when. He does have a meta-gene.

Her vision tunneled down a hole and she grew worried for a moment. She had not planned to travel to another memory, but was forced there by something unforeseen. Chesney was about to break their chain until she was seeing through the eyes of a much younger Myles: a newborn Myles. He squealed and cried and the midwife pulled him from the dark crevice. A man with dark hair, black as night, with a platinum streak on the side loomed over him. It was a face Chesney recognized well, despite the blurred vision of the baby, and a scene she had envisioned before, through her own eyes. As Myles was lifted, his eyes caught sight of his birth mother, young and vibrant, with a puckering scar down her face and a sweaty cap of hair falling around her shoulders.

"Take him, Roth. Take our son."

Our son. My son. Myles. This is my son.

Chesney released the quivering hands and stepped back. The platinum haired boy looked up at her, and she knew he had seen the same. The unspoken vision in the room was suffocating and no one knew what to say. Reska ushered to her captain's side.

"Captain Chaos, is it true? Did he make the shot on purpose? Did he know or was it pure luck?" she asked, glancing back at the stunned pirate boy.

Chesney pushed Reska aside and trailed forward. She set her large hands on Myles' shoulders and stared at him. The familiar features came to life, and it was as if she were staring back at Roth, her once great lover.

"Let this boy out of his chains," she said finally. "This is my son."