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 stood at the helm. In front of him, a short young woman with her hands securely wrapped around the pegs of the wheel stood proud. He watched her as she slightly teetered the wheel from left to right, and then used a large force to spin it round. The rear of the Salvia swung around gracefully and the vessel pivoted around a massive cliff, making way into a cavernous passage. The helmsman-- or helmswoman rather-- was much too small to be of much use for anything else on board. She had short pixie black hair and a thin frame. She was flat down her front as well as her back and could almost pass for a teenage boy, except for the baby soft features of her face; her gigantic round eyes that were lined in the longest, wispy lashes and a stout nose that turned up on the end, and her full lips that seemed to always look moist in the sunlight. Her easy smile was always present when the wind blew in her face. He had learned from a blue-haired girl aboard that the pixie had seen more than thirty years, though you wouldn't believe it.

Aboard, there were so many women. The deck hands were women, the boatswain and gunner were both women, including the powder monkeys. Most of the kitchen staff were as well, save for a few men. Myles was among one of the only males aboard, and since the others seemed to be too little or in hiding, he wasn't sure he'd seen them all. He took note of one man however-- a mute-- called Wampus, though Myles had an inkling it wasn't his true name. He was burly and bald, and never once looked tired with his work. Some days he was scrubbing the deck, others he was sewing patches into their sails. He even saw him sitting by a makeshift grindstone one afternoon a few days past, sharpening one of the crew's longswords. The pirate was screaming at him, calling him stupid and worthless and every rotten name in between, but Wampus kept his composure, despite having a great weapon in his hand. He could've slewn her quick and easy; Ilia had given him the size. Myles wondered why the big lug stayed aboard the Halo. If he were surrounded by women who berated him day and night he might hang himself from the mast.

As he stared at Wampus now, practicing knots portside, he tried to understand why a man would subject himself to that for so long. "Merida," he said to the pixie girl at the wheel. "Why does Wampus just do everythin he does? Doesn't the man have any balls at all?" he asked, laughing.

Myles sucked on his teeth, tasting the supple goose and jam they had been served for breakfast. It was nice not having to worry about what you'd be served for each meal; it was nice even to not be the one preparing it. For three days he'd been sailing with Captain Chaos' crew, observing them, learning their ways, and relishing in the differences between this ship's habits and his old. He hadn't seen much of his... mother-- it was still odd to say. She had been holed up with Reska in her cabin dealing with something too important to disclose to him.

But, every night, she summoned him to dine with her, and she questioned him on his past, his skill set, and his experiences aboard the Siren's Song. They feasted on great big birds and fresh swordfish, candied apples and berry-cakes, and the most delicious wines, though Myles had decided to be a whiskey man as of late.

Merida glanced back over her shoulder, lifting a brow. "Who told ye his name was Wampus?" she asked angrily.

Myles swallowed, wondering if he'd taken a misstep. I knew that wasn't his real name, he scolded. "Uh, the gal with the crazy blue hair," he blurted, searching his mind for the girl's title. It was another short, but she was much more endowed than Merida, and much prettier too, except for the strange shade of periwinkle her hair was.

The pixie squeezed the handles on the wheel until her knuckles went white. "Trinity? Next time that half breed calls him that, you come to me and I'll give her a right warm blade in her cold, dead heart," she ordered.

The pirate knew immediately he'd done a great injustice to Trinity. But, if he hadn't given her name, it might've been his heart Merida's knife found. He chewed on his lip and sunk to the boards, his back against the wheel's mount. "What is his name, then?" he asked lightly.

The wind ceased around them and the walls of the stony passage had made it dark, save for the bit of sunlight that peeked through the cliff's rooftops. It didn't look very safe, as if it could crumble and collapse around them at any instant. The cavern walls were damp and moss covered. Little things with wings fluttered from here to there, opening their bright yellow eyes. Myles perked up, coming to his knees as he caught sight of something small and flickering red around them. He looked down the main stair to see that the air had been infested with the little red lights. The deck was illuminated and everywhere the lights were resting and flitting from crewman to crewman. His fingers stretched out toward them in the blackness, and they fluttered away.

"Don't tell me ye've never seen Bloodwick babes," Merida said from above him. She had a collection of little rouge lamps resting peacefully on her shoulder and down her arm. Myles shook his head and reached out to touch more, but they jumped out of his orbit. "No boy, like this," she said, holding her palm out upright.

The lights on her arms soared and scattered in the air before settling back down in her hand. Myles mimicked her movement and soon one, two, nay, fourteen things came down on his hand. They tickled something awful and he had to shake them off to give his hand a quick scratch, but then he eagerly held his palm out again.

"What are they?" he asked, slowly bringing them to his eyes. They were too bright to get close but he was inquisitive.

"They're Bloodwicks. Well, more important, they're the babes of Bloodwicks. When they've fully grown, they'll be no more than the size of a small bird and they'll have yellow eyes at maturity. They'll slowly lose that shine until one day they explode, into these little guys." Merida blew away the wisps and pointed to the yellow eyes that loomed atop their heads.

"But... what's their purpose?" Myles asked, throwing the red into the air. They calmly drifted from his hand and moved on, and he fell back down to his butt with a stupid grin.

Merida gave him a confused look. "Well, what's yours?" she challenged, kicking his thigh playfully.

My purpose? I... I don't know yet. Myles shrugged and leaned his head back, staring up at the cavern roof. I wonder what Enigma is doing right now. And Kelpie and Nebula... and... He sighed and shook his head. His old crew was just that: his old crew. He wasn't important to the everyday operations of the Siren's Song, nor had he even gone on any good raids with The Rovers recently. He was easily forgotten, he was sure.

But here, on this ship, he could stand out and make a difference. Even if he didn't do anything extraordinary at first, he was still the Captain's blood and one of the only men on board nonetheless. He was competing for 'best male crewman' against a mute, an old and shaggy man named Jack-something-or-other, and a few rowers who stayed hidden below deck most of the time.

As if she could read his mind, the pixie spoke up, winding the wheel to the right. "Trinity calls him Wampus out of mockery. His name is Warren, and his tongue is cut halfway up so when he speaks, his words aren't right. So he doesn't speak at all," she said, her voice somber. Myles realized that this was why Wampus-- Warren-- stayed on. The pixie had a fondness for him, and he assumed the feeling was mutual. Why else would a man stay at sea with a gaggle of females who tortured him? His sweetheart was right here among them.

"So you and Warren... you two...?" he implied, trailing off.

Another boot caught Myles in the thigh, a bit harder this time. "...are no concern of yours, boy," she finished for him, eyes straight ahead. There was light coming from the bow now, and the blackness was fading into the rear with all of the Bloodwick babes. "Like I said," she continued. "If ye hear the half breed jabberin on about my guy, or calling him that awful name with the others, ye tell me," she said, nodding at him.

He nodded his platinum locks and picked at some splintered wood by his side. He'd have to tread lightly around here. This was new territory-- a territory his mother had assured him was rightfully his. But these were all lifelong companions, and he was the new meat. His life companions were on another ship, sailing in the opposite direction. They're not your companions anymore. Merida and Warren, Trinity and Reska, and Captain Chaos-- they're my crew now. And will be for all time. He ran an absent-minded hand over his puckering scar on his chest. Branded for life.

The sun began drenching them, from the foremost to the hindmost, and Myles watched as each crew member became visible when they entered the beams. It was as if the gods lifted a curtain from them, and they emerged once more out into the open sea. Merida had called it Ushuros' Pass, and spout that it was a lucky thing-- to go in and come out the other end unscathed. It meant that your journey would be easy and quick without harm. It was Chaos' orders to always pass through Ushuros' dens.

A gull swooped down and pecked at one of the women below. She cursed and whacked the thing with an oar she had been sanding. It squawked and crashed to the boards where the girl savagely hacked at it, tufts of feathers wafting around her. After ten good whacks, she had exhausted herself and she held the bloody bird in the air and hooted, but then threw it down in frustration when she realized she had bloodied the oar.

A flash of blue shone in the light as the sun baked over Myles and cooked his bare shoulders. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes and drank in the rays. Trinity was above deck now, strolling around and twirling a sword. The metal was too fine and long to be hers, and she wielded it all wrong. She had no sheathe at her hip, which wouldn't have done much now that he noticed she carried not one but two blades. She tested them each in her hands as she walked about, talking to groups of pirates one by one, holding the swords out for them to admire.

"Merida, what did you mean when you said Trinity was a half breed?" he asked, craning his head to look up at her.

"Meanin her parents were two different species, of course," she replied. "Her dad was a pirate bloke. Human, like me and you. Her mum was ocean naga, a mermaid, actually, with very long, blue hair. I don't even wanna know how it works, the two of them... ya know." She shuddered. "I was in my twenty first year when she was born, I suppose, bein that she's fifteen. But she didn't join til I was thirty two years, which woulda made her..."

"Eleven," Myles insisted.

"Right, right. So she's only been aboard for four years and the little bitch thinks she owns the damned ocean. She's knowledgeable about ocean naga and Athme and all the damn plants and fish we need be wary of. Her dad's on Obsidian's crew, but Trinity came to Captain Chaos on her own, askin to become her ward or somethin and to learn how to properly pirate. How do you 'properly pirate' I ask ya? She's a mean little sneaky thing at that. I tried to warn Reska on a handful of occasions--"

Myles raised his brows and clambored to his feet. "What's she like?" he cut off, trying to casually lean against the railing. "She hasn't been there at dinner with my... well, my..."

"Yer mum," Merida offered, pursing her lips at the boy. When Myles shyly pressed his mouth into a thin line in reply, the girl took pity on him and moved along. "Reska is not really a conversationalist. Not with any of us, anyway," she explained. "She jabbers with the captain for hours though, and I've gotten a good round out of her with some ale once or twice. But that's all. She's a thief so it's her nature. She's quiet, like Warren," she said, smiling fondly at her lover's name.

Reska was fiery, and all that Myles could lust after. In a way, she reminded him of Luna, one of Madame Bouchard's girls. He wasn't sure why, as they weren't much alike at all; Luna was a human with long black hair and pale skin while Reska was a meta-human hybrid, with corkscrew wiry red locks and a tan complexion from pirating. Luna even talked too much, which Reska did little of. Perhaps it was the swindling of men that had brought them together in his mind. It made no matter-- Reska was still a lusty piece of woman that Myles had been visually indulging in since his trial. There weren't too many attractive women aboard the Halo, except for Trinity and her bunk mates, whose names he would probably never remember, and his pixie helmsman, who was more like an adorable little sister.

A commotion brought Myles out of his internal fascination, and he turned to see a group of women pointing up at him from below. Trinity was at the base of them, and she pushed forward in pursuit, yanking the dual swords out of the other pirates' hands. She waved up to Myles and Merida with a coy smile. Her oversized black boots flopped up the steps as she held the blades by their hilts. The pixie woman scoffed and rolled her eyes, planting them back on the horizon. She shifted on her left leg so that she stood away from Trinity.

"Boy, I've been looking for ya," she said, her usual sly voice glazing over with a rasping sound that did not fit her at all. She must've noticed the disturbed look on his face, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "This is a gift from the captain, to you, since your old weapons were left back on the Siren's Song." She held the blades out to him.

Dual longswords, for me? She's giving me a gift? Myles took each blade and measured its weight. They were light, but razor sharp, and rippleless, with not a speck of rust on them. They didn't look particularly new, but they were well taken care of.

"What's happened to you, then?" Merida asked Trinity with a laugh.

The blue-haired girl touched the base of her throat and ignored the pixie. "Captain Chaos also said that it's lucky to name your blades so to do so as soon as possible. And she said she'll be seein you at supper tonight."

"Alright," he replied, unsure. He felt like a pirate once again and not so much like a traitor. If this was just the beginning of what was to come, he knew he made the right decision about leaving Captain Enigma's crew. One day he would captain the Halo and the title of the most prestiged pirate would fall to him. Yet, Evie's words still echoed in his head, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being a traitor. He tried not to think of her, and for three days he succeeded. He had slipped only once, two mornings ago when he dreamt of sharing a bed with her and woke cradling a pillow sack in his arms like a lover and drenched in sweat. He forgave that one, and hadn't thought of her again until now. But he hated her, and hated that she didn't understand why he would have chosen Chesney's crew over Enigma's if he had the choice. A purpose, he thought. This was the start of his purpose.

Trinity left without another word and a bitter glare at Merida, who gave her the finger and told her to shove off. Myles twirled the swords around and around in his hands. He lunged forward with a jab, then slid to the right and pivoted on his left foot towards the rear with another lunge.

"Fancy footwork ye got there," Merida said, looking the boy up and down as if impressed.

Myles felt the heat creep into his cheeks and he scratched the side of his face. "Yeah, Kelpie taught me some tricks when I was about eight or so. You wouldn't think so lookin at him, being a fat ogre and all, but he was very light on his feet in battle. Now he just stomps about and swings around his mace. Nebula says it's because he's gotten lazy," he said with a chuckle. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face and caused his cheeks to ache. It wasn't until he took note of Merida's gaze, calm and intrigued, that he had even realized he what he said. Myles turned away from her, closed his eyes, and leaned over the rail, his hands dangerously turning over the blades atop the water.

The cavern was far behind them now, and they lowered the main sails and picked up wind. There was no turning back now to his old life. And why would he want to? He wasn't appreciated the way he should've been.

The sky was a bright blue ahead of them, but just behind of Ushuros' Pass, storm clouds brewed overhead. It was always a brilliant sight to witness a storm from a distance. The clouds were gray and frothy and a thick mist connected the clouds to the sea where the rain poured down relentlessly. Lightning was especially exhilarating to watch, as it struck with a pattern of 1, 2, 3, zig-zagging from top to bottom, and then disappearing into the sky.

They were headed to the Rock Isles to replenish their resources and raid some trader ships that may be docked there. Ironically enough, the Rock Isles were the homeland of his father, Roth. A small hope lived inside Myles that they might see him there, and that they'd all reunite and bond over the return of their son, but Chaos didn't seem the type to get warm feelings over reunions-- she took a hot iron to her son after just learning who he was.

Myles took his swords and descended down the stairs, making way toward the berth. Along the way to his cabin, many of the women gave him presumptuous and chilling stares, like he did not belong. A few even sniggered like townfolk as he passed, muttering something about the swords he donned. Perhaps it was not wise to accept such a gift so publicly in front of his new crew. He didn't want to be outcast or looked upon as a favorite, though he was enjoying the attention that he never received by any of The Hollow Rovers. He swung open his door and shut it behind him before falling onto his mattress. It was lumpy and no better than the one he'd had before, but it somehow made him sleep more soundly. He had no bunkmate, thankfully, else they would probably stab him in his sleep. He was an outsider, and a man no less.

His arms stretched out beside him, his hands still clutching each blade tightly. He stared up at the ceiling of his bunk and tried to think of names for his new weapons. Fury and Might, Loyal and Brave, Swift and Quick... but none seemed right. If he was being honest, he had no fury and he was a long way from being considered mighty. He disliked that he didn't consider himself loyal, nor brave enough to face his new crew without any fear of their judgements. He was swift and quick, but those were more like names for his two feet, who did all the work.

Evie would find this amusing, my struggle to fit in, he thought bitterly. Her japes would be annoyingly welcome at the moment, however; he'd feel more at home. He let his head fall to the left and down and looked down his long arm at his sword. Hmm, this certainly would amuse her. He limply lifted his arm and let it drop, bouncing slightly on the mattress. Amuse, he wondered idly, tossing the word around in his mind. His head rolled to the other side and his lips twitched a little. And... annoy. That's it, he decided. Amuse and Annoy would be the most clever and true names he could have for his blades. It would be a jest at his enemies as he cut them down, and a private joke for himself. His grip tightened and loosened around them a few times as he thought it over. The sliced 'X' in his palm began to burn again and he dropped the swords, pulled his hand to his chest, and massaged the scarring tissue with his other hand. He would never be rid of the reminder of his broken oath to stand behind Evie Knox. Surely he'd be cut down for it at some point in his pathetic life-- karma had a way of doing that to people.

There was a rap at the door and Myles shot up on the bed, propped up on his elbows. The door creaked open and a slinky orange tail waved at him. Reksa leaned against the frame, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She must;ve been a fan of black, since she was always dressed head to toe in it; it contrasted nicely with her hair. The red curls reminded him of the Bloodwick babes, as if they were swarming her head. She had a look about her, like she held some secret knowledge that she could hold over him. Myles uncomfortably sat up straight and pushed himself from his seat.

"Sorry, I'll just grab a shirt," he said, his voice shaking. 'Don't you know how to wear a shirt?' Evie's voice rang in his ears. He hobbled over to the dusty trunk at the foot of his bed, and snapped open the latch.

"No need," the cat girl purred. She winked one of her intense eyes and Myles noticed her extremely long lashes were as red as her hair, only a shade or two darker. "The captain wanted me to inform you that she won't be dining tonight."

"Oh," Myles said, lowering himself on the trunk. "Is she sick?"

Reska laughed. "Chaos doesn't get sick. No, she's dealing with some important matters in regards to her fleet."

Myles had only known Chaos to have the Halo, so this was news to him. "Her flee-" he began to ask.

"She also wanted to make sure you got your gift," she continued, pointing at the blades. "They were hers once. Stole them off one of her enemies after she killed him. They're a trophy of sorts."

The boy looked back at the blades that laid on his mattress. They were a prized possession to the captain, it seemed. He was almost thankful that they were not custom made for him, though they hadn't seen land or a forge in three days regardless. "You can tell her I'm grateful for them. I've named them already. Amuse and Annoy," he said, dropping his gaze to his feet, trying to hide a smile.

"We are glad you like 'em. Weren't sure they'd find your hands since Trinity was complainin about you gettin special treatment. Nearly had to choke the wench to death before she knew how to hold her tongue," she said shrugging.

"That... that was you who made her sound all scratchy?" he asked, his head lifting to look at her. She looked mysterious in the dim lighting of his cabin, almost like a floating head, hands, and tail in the blackness. "Why?" he pressed. Trinity had every right to throw a fit about his treatment; they all did. They'd put their time in. And now some bastard kid strolled in and got a complementary set of blades and the title of 'son of the captain'.

Reksa shrugged again, as if this was all trivial. "No one will speak ill of you. Captain's orders. I make it my personal goal to see to it those orders are respected by all crew members." She slipped in further, closing the door behind her. A smile played on her lips. She was sort of pretty when she smiled, and two sharpened bicuspids peeked out from beneath her upper lip. "Has anyone shown you ill will?" she asked, her fingers reaching up to the buttons on her jacket. She began unbuttoning down the line, her sharpened silver claws carefully poking through each hole. She peeled back her jacket and dropped it to the floor. Underneath she had a corset, tight and restricting.

Myles swallowed hard, stiffening in his seat on the trunk. He had been caught off guard by her undressing that he had barely remembered she asked him a question. He shook his head, running a quivering hand through his hair. "N-no, miss. No ill will," he choked out.

Boots were tossed aside, which Myles hadn't even noticed she took off. His eyes were too busy tracing the curve of her chest, then looking down at himself in embarrassment. The silver claws on the cat-girl ripped at the laces on her breeches and she pulled them off as well. She wore no small clothes on her lower half, just a tuft of striking red hair that collected at the junction of her thighs. "I'll keep it that way," she whispered, a purr humming in her chest. "Like I said, I tend to all of the captain's orders personally."

And then she was on him, like a pouncing Wendigo on his last meal of the night. She was in his lap, his hands resting on the grooves of her hips. Reska was pressed tightly against him, nipping at his earlobe, purring into his neck. Myles didn't know what to do. He was as shy as a noble maiden on her wedding day all of a sudden. He trembled beneath her as her mouth roamed from his ear, to his jaw, down his neck and to his chest. What are you doing you blimy idiot? Kiss her back.

He found it hard to begin, not wanting to awkwardly kiss the wrong spot or bring her any displeasure. Luna was not so assertive with him, and she usually did all of the work real gentle-like. And while it never got past some heavy petting and playful kisses and massaging, Myles thought he'd be ready for when he truly would have a woman. He talked a big game with The Rovers, but he'd been too coward to ever have a woman in the past, especially the whores from Madame Bouchard's lot. But he tucked away his nervosity and he kissed at the skin on her shoulder. Reska squirmed at the return of affection and continued with a fueled exuberance. She kissed him on the mouth, biting at his lower lip.

"Ah," he moaned, pulling away from her kiss. He sucked on his lip and realized she'd drawn blood. But now, their eyes were locked and his heart thumped and his stomach did flips. His hands found the underside of her thighs and he lifted her up, and collapsed with her onto his bed, careful not to fall on his swords. And as he kissed her and prepared himself for what he did not know would come next, he saw only her, and quickly forgot about the gash on his hand.

Thank you all for getting me to 1k! I appreciate all of the readers and commenters who helped me achieve my goal here and I hope you all stay on this adventure with me in the coming chapters.

A special thanks to ErichW , inksorcery , and laorangerose who each have provided me with a great set of knowledge and helpful critiques that have done nothing but IMPROVE my writing and my book. Thank you all for taking an amateur Wattpad-ian under your wing.