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!

Myles recoiled, sliding out from under Captain Chaos' grasp. Behind him, he was unsure of the presence of his crew mates; there were no words nor breaths. He had seen it too, the vision. But, he was empty and lost and didn't know how to feel. Thoughts flooded his mind like the sea through a porthole of a sinking ship wrecked by cannon fire. It made sense now, his uncertainty of his place in Enigma's crew, and his accelerated skill building throughout the years. He had possessed a meta-gene all his life unknowingly, and had never fully felt the intensity of the power until now; perhaps when he shot the squishy man that laid on the table, but it was nothing in comparison to this vision.

Ilia, the goddess of life, had blessed the humans with meta-genes to combat the growing threats of Oren when the world first formed, Myles recalled. He remembered the tales Nebula had told him of the tribe of the first meta-humans who had been directly blessed by the goddess herself, and of the trials they had to face. Humans were no more than horse lords when Oren was created. Dratsac was ruled by a royal family of Ogres, the mainland didn't have any stone cities or highborn houses - just elves who lived peacefully among one another in their forests and huts - and humans were sold as slaves. After the meta-gene was encrypted in the bodies of humans, they rose, powerful and with a vengeance. And from there, over the next hundred or so years, the royal family in Dratsac withered and the indigenous Dratsaci were driven from their lands. And then Ofund and Gruuthar was built, by the two meta-humans in which the city is named after. Elves fell into the service of humans and their families, and Oren became what it was today. The only land that had stayed true to its origins was the Ciscoz Prairie Wilds, since the danger and dark power of Ushuros was swelling and always overwhelmingly present.

The judge's first mate, known across Oren as Reska, with her wild red curls, waved a hand in front of Myles' eyes. His blues flickered and he shook his head. Captain Chaos was already appraising him. They had seen the same vision and there was no denying now that she was his birth mother. Myles watched Chesney and Reska's approving smiles curl into a scowl that connected them both, and a moment later he knew why. Evie was beside him, her hand clutching the spot above his elbow in some possessive way. He could hardly look at her out of fear that his heart would betray his mind.

Durward broke the silence and stepped forward, pushing Evie gently aside. "What is it you mean to say, Captain Chaos?" he asked, his brows pulling together.

Myles didn't give her a chance to answer him. "It's true. I saw it sir," he said in a hushed tone. But what about the man in his vision? Roth, he presumed to be his father. Myles had to wonder where that man was now. Why had Chaos seemed so cold and distant toward this Roth and toward her own child, fresh from the womb?

Chesney crosses her arms and tilted her head toward the boy. "He is the child of my Roth and I, that smith from Windrock Isle. Sad to say, I didn't have much love for him," she added, as if answering Myles' question. She looked astonished at the features in his face.

Durward cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable. "If Myles is your son, then how is it he came aboard my ship at such a young age?" he asked. A challenge, thought the boy, paralyzed with information.

"I don't know," Chesney replied, shaking her head. "I thought perhaps he was dead or off with Roth and a new mother and siblings on the isle somewhere. I had not anticipated this." It was annoyingly honest.

Not anticipated this? What, her child surviving and showing up years later on trial before her. Funny, neither did I. Myles felt a sick appreciation along with his anger. He wanted to slap her, spit in her face, and maybe even strike her down. But it eased him knowing that he was meant to pirate the seas of Oren and that fate had dealt him a fair hand at last.

One of Thatcher's men, the elven-looking one, pushed forward and shoved a finger into the air. "Pirate bastard! This ain't right for Reggie!"

Chesney glared. "Captain Thatch, you'll do right to shut that one up," she warned.

The drunk captain nudged his crewman. Myles noticed that he seemed to have given this up minutes ago, though his men seemed highly upset by the verdict. His man shouted a string of insults at the boy, of his low birth and 'whore mother' in all of his rage.

"Enough," Chaos warned.

Myles' eyes had been swimming over Reska. Her voluptuous frame was appealing, though hidden under black trousers that had a hole cut out above her backside where a long and orange tail emerged and swayed back and forth. He took note of her right black coat as well, with many buckles and pockets. A thief, he decided. Her pointed, orange haired ears twitched at each sound in the room on top of her head, and her thin, vertical pupils jumped from person to person. She had been sitting back, observing, waiting to pounce if she had to. Captain Chaos' crew was infamous and notorious for being almost entirely female, except for a few cooks and deckhands that Chesney had allowed to stay after taking prisoner.

Nebula was the next one to speak, surprisingly. "What does this mean now?" She asked. The charges were seemingly dropped in a moment of shock, but everyone was smart enough not to get their hopes up. Chesney wasn't warm of heart, and had not seen her child for seventeen years; there was no assuming she would really let him get away with such a crime, especially when he was sworn to another crew. "I hope his punishment is not a harsh one, as he did this rather unwillingly because of his meta-gene impulses and the panic of losing a friend," she added. She sounded hopeful and concerned, and Myles appreciated that.

Captain Chaos' eyes darted to someone out of Myles' view and she pushed her lips, considering something, but her look was not a welcome one and it made the pirate boy quiver. She waltzed back to her chair and sat on the edge of the table, pondering. Myles shifted anxiously but was brought to a halt by Chesney's firm fist pounding down on the table, shaking he deceased Reginald.

"In the trial of the murder of Mister Reggie," she started, gesturing to the dead man and then his captain. "I find Myles to be guilty," she said, a tight smile pressing on her lips. Thatcher's men hooted at the change of tide and pointed at Myles.

"That's right you little bilge rat bastard," The elvish one hollered. "You ain't gettin away with nothin'!"

Chesney reached into her holster and snapped her arm out, unloading a shot into the man's chest. It was boomshot, and apart from its rather ironic quiet demeanor, it bursted the pirate's chest into splintered bones and chunks of carnage, leaving a gaping and gnarly hole in him as he fell backward to the floor. Again, the room fell silent, alarmed. Durward's hand anxiously went to the back of his neck and Nebula took a few steps back, holding her arm out across Evie's front to prevent her from doing something stupid to get herself shot next. Reska laughed openly about the dead man on the floor and the whining pirate who fell to his knees beside him. The first three chair members of the council were always exempt from judgement, which made them almost untouchable, unless of course they harmed another council member.

Chesney went to the mantle, and reached in to remove a fire poker. On its end was something flat and glowing orange. She held it up, swinging it around carelessly so that everyone was on edge. Myles froze. Does she mean to stick that thing down my throat? he wondered.

"Captain, please," Durward said from behind. "I will take responsibility for the boy's actions. Punish me if you must, but have mercy on Myles," he pleased honorably. Evie shifted behind them and started a protest, but Nebula's large hand clamped down on the girl's mouth.

The fire poker came to a stop in the air and Chesney bellowed. "No, dear Durward. That wouldn't be possible." She held it up to Myles' face, and he could feel the blistering iron cooking the grease on his nose from inches away. He could see the end of the poker more clearly now. There was a flat black lotus, scintillating orange and red from the fire; it wa the sigil of Chesney's crew. "Reska," she barked, jerking her head toward the boy. The cat girl slinked up beside him and set her hand on his shoulder blade. Clearing her throat, Chesney continued with a wry look of amusement on her face. "Let this be heard, before the God and Goddess of fate and life. In judgement of all crimes ye pirates have yet to pay for, the first chair of the Seven Swords has made her decision. For his crimes against the pirate league, the boy will be tethered to ten years of service... under my command."

What? His heart thudded and then ceased and repeated  until he couldn't feel it beating at all. Sail under Captain Chaos? My... my mother? The thought alone brought back feelings of nervosa and guilt. But, it also brought a sublime feeling of power and opportunity that he had only felt once or twice in his pitiful life.

The room was in a commotion at once. Evie broke free from Nebula's hold and rushed to Myles' side, nearly pushing Reska over. The cat girl hissed at her and raised a hand with sharpened silver fingernails. Evie stepped in between the two and raised her own fist, fearless of the threatening blades that protrudes from Reska's fingers. Myles almost felt obligated to jump in and cam the two and comfort Evie, but Nebula wrenched the girl backward by her fist, sensing her tripping over her own feet. Don't move, stupid. She's the reason you're in this mess in the first place.

Durward threw up his hands and shook his head. "No, no Captain. You cannot do that."

Chesney lifted a brow. "Can't I?" She challenged. Reska continued hissing at Evie, who pulled away from Nebula once more and was clinging to Myles' arm. Why does everyone keep touching me like they own me? I don't like it, I can't think.

"I have not relieved him from my service," Durward declared, nervously adjusting his tricorn atop his head.

Myles tried to slide out of Evie's hold, but she just clenched harder. I bet I wouldn't be making supper everyday aboard Halo among The Holy Lotuses, Myles thought. This could be my chance. This could be why I never felt like I belonged. Still, he remained silent as the disagreement raged on.

"Well, I'm relieving him. What I say, goes," Chaos replied.

"But Myles has been a member of my crew for over a decade now. He's a Hollow Rover," Durward objected.

Chesney threw down the fire poker and it clambered to the floor, ringing in the hall. Her fists balled and her scar turned a bright pink as if it were about to seep blood. She kicked at one of the chairs that were haphazardly positioned around the council table and it screeched across the floor before falling on its side.

"He's not a Hollow Rover! He is my son!" She yelled. Reska hurried to her captain's side and rubbed her arm reassuringly. Chesney shrugged her off and took a moment to calm herself. She ran a hand over her scar but flinched away from it as if it burned or was tender to the touch. With an easy breath, she continued. "He is my legacy and will inherit Halo when I am good and dead. He has more to gain under my service than he does yours, Enigma. And do ye think if he had the choice, he'd choose The Rovers over his destiny?"

Myles waited to hear an answer from Enigma that did not come. There was only an inside shuffling of hooves as his captain considered Chesney's words. He has no reason for me to stay, he realized. Evie's nails dug slightly into his arm, alerting him that she was still by his side. He looked down at her and pain lanced through his heart. He glanced to the dead body lying on the table and then back to her pleading eyes. I don't have a reason to stay either. This could be my chance to fulfill a purpose.

The freshly cut 'X' on the boy's hand began to pulsate as he thought of the possibility of leaving Enigma's crew. Myles seized Evie's wrist and struggled to extract her from his arm. She tensed and held on tighter. "No," he whispered to her, prying her fingers from his skin. He shoved her hand down and stepped away from her. "I accept my punishment," he announced to the room.

Reska giggled lowly in her chest and reached down to retrieve the fire poker for her captain. Durward turned sideways, his eyes searching Myles', and Nebula's head dropped, a defeating acceptance clear in her face. A tough punch his Myles in the ribs, and he hopped from his place. Evie rounded up for another, but the boy stepped out of reach.

"You slimy traitor!" she yelled, swinging wildly. Her brows her wrought with grief and her mouth twisted into a deep frown. She pulled back and tossed a slap hard across his cheek. "Fuck you, you nasty, traitorous git. I knew you would do this one day. I knew it." Again, she slapped him.

"Stop her," Chesney commanded, but to who, Myles couldn't be sure. Another slap stung his cheek. He stood, watching her spew curses at him, taking her abuse.

"You're a fucking coward, I don't care what they say. You didn't save me. You could never save me!"

Chaos' hand reached for her pistol again, her finger warm and happy on the trigger. Nebula noticed and began to wrap her long arms around the girl, who thrashed about and threw a closed fist into Myles' chest. He caught his breath and reached up to grab the tender spot. He turned away from her as Nebula dragged her from the room, calling him all sorts of foul names that had no business coming from a woman's mouth. Don't look back at her. She's not worth your destiny. She has her own, he thought, feeling his scar burning with he betrayal of his oath to Enigma.

Durward looked pained as well, though composed, and seemed to be at a loss for words for once in his life. Chesney wrapped an arm around Enigma's shoulders mockingly and sighed. The two couldn't be more indignant of each other. Durward stiffened at her touch, while she looked relaxed and at ease. Myles thought back to his vision. Chesney looked much angrier in the vision than she did now, which rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps I just need to get to know her. Though, all of Oren knew her. He was so many questions about why she had left him, and about his meta-gene, and about Roth, his father. She was the only one who could answer his questions. And what was that about being her legacy? Would he really inherit her ship and be a captain one day? If this all happened for a reason, he had to follow through. It could be his chance at the life he had dreamed of for those many years.

By now Thatcher and his remaining man had slumped out of the room, justice taking a shit on their plight. Chesney released Durward and snatched the fire poker from Reska's hand and walked over to the fire, holding it to the flames. Durward came to face the pirate boy he had took part in raising, and he grabbed the lad's face gently between his hands, seeming to search for some recognition.

"This is what you want," he said in a hushed tone. It was not a question.

Myles swallowed and answered anyway. "Aye, Captain."

The satyr took a deep breath and looked him over. Nodding his head, he took his pointer finger and dabbed at Myles' chest. "Remember, son," he said with a weak smile. With a tip on his tricorn, he backed away, spinning toward Chesney again. He bowed his head and made way toward the door. "Thank you for your hospitality, Captain Chaos," he expressed quietly as he exited through the curtain.

And then there remained two meta-humans, a meta-human hybrid, and two stinky corpses in the council room. It was awkwardly silent and it was all Myles could do but run from the room. Reska came to stand by him again and she set her hand in the same position it was in before: on his shoulder blade. Here we go with the touching again. But this time she held it sturdy and pressed the curves of her front to his backside. Myles could've sword he heard her purr. Chesney pulled the hot poker from the flames and turned it to face him. The lotus was glowing red and orange once again, and he realized all too late what her intentions were. She pressed the iron to his chest over his left pectoral, and the skin sizzled and flaked and died beneath it. Myles squirmed and screamed, and when he began to thrash, Reska's silver fingernails dug into his skin, leaving trickles of blood run down his back and arm. The pain was excruciating; it felt like a thousand needles piercing his skin and cooking his heart. His entire left side began to go numb, and he feared he might pass out. As the skin shriveled and scarred, Chesney peeled the iron from his chest, removing some of his exterior layer along with it. Stringy bits of skin oozed and hung limply from him. It smelled of Kelpie's cooked goose.

His eyesight blurred and his knees trembled, but before he knew it, he was sitting in a plush chair with his head hanging back and his hair matted to his forehead by sweat. She branded me, he knew. Now I'm her's for life. He heard the chilling screech of wood dragging across stone and noticed that Chesney had pulled up a seat to face him. Reska leaned over him from behind, blowing down on his new wound with her hot breath; it only made it inflame more.

"Whiskey, Res," Chesney commanded, scooting closer to her son. The cat girl's forest-y scent wafted by him as she left his side. "Myles," Chaos continued, snapping a few times in front of his gaze. His head rolled and came to focus on her.

"That... hurt..." he choked, his mouth void of any saliva.

Chesney smiled and nodded. "Aye, it did. It does. And it will." He didn't know what she meant by that, but it worried him.

Reska returned with two thin vials and a crusted bottle. She poured the dark liquor into the vials and handed one to her captain and one to the boy. Myles tossed it back immediately and held out his hand for more. Ah, this hurts like hell. His sweat was cooling now yet his face and head heated.

"My son. My boy," Chesney said, shaking her head in disbelief. "This is surely a strike of fate." She threw her shot back and grabbed the bottle, refilling both of their vials.

Fate, she calls it. Myles once again polished his drink. Reska was leaning seductively on the back of Captain Chaos' chair, her eyes dancing from Myles' head to his feet, his naked toes curling under her stare. This one's trouble, he decided. "My... father..." he went on, holding out his glass for more. The stench of burning skin still churned his stomach. Maybe if he was drunk enough...

Chesney nodded. "I'll tell you about him. But not now. Right now is about you." She leaned over and poured him some more whiskey, the liquor filling and spilling over the sides. Myles brought it to his mouth quickly and slurped it up, kicking the spillage off of his hand. "And do I have plans for you," she added, the corners of her lips turning up.

Plans, he thought. Enigma never had plans for him. No longer would he take orders from Kelpie or be berated by Nebula. He would not have to hide away in the crows nest for a moment of quiet. And no more would he have to endure the tension and jealousy he felt toward Evie, the one he had sworn to stand by. As he sat and drank and collected his thoughts about all that had transpired, Myles couldn't tell which hurt worse: his brand or his broken oath.