The early morning light spilled over the horizon, casting soft hues of gold and pink across the rocking ship. The gentle rhythm of the waves against the hull was a soothing melody, but the steady motion of the ship and the creaking timbers reminded you of the unpredictable journey ahead.

The crew, though still groggy from the night's revelry, were already beginning to stir, their murmured conversations blending with the sounds of the sea. As you stood at the bow, you absentmindedly ran your fingers along the sharp claws of Ember's silver wings, feeling the smooth, metallic surface beneath your touch. The wings had been carefully reworked the night before, a necessary task after the flight through the storm. The silvery feathers now gleamed with a new sheen, ready for whatever the day would bring.

You hummed softly to yourself, the quiet tune a familiar comfort as you gazed out at the distant horizon. Ember, ever watchful, stood nearby, her keen eyes scanning the waters, sensing every movement in the air and sea. She ruffled her wings slightly, a silent reassurance that she was prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.

The ship creaked again, the wind picking up as the day began in earnest. You adjusted your stance, ready for whatever came next, knowing that the path ahead would be full of uncertainty—and that it was a path you were more than willing to walk.

Will stepped out onto the deck, Jack trailing behind him, still looking dazed and unsteady from his drunken stupor the night before. You gave them both a nod, acknowledging their presence. "Nice of you to join us," you said, a slight edge to your voice, but there was no real malice in it. It was simply the way things worked aboard your ship.

You gave Ember's wing a quick pat, the silver dragon standing tall beside you, her wings rustling with anticipation. With a fluid motion, she took to the air, her wings beating powerfully as she hovered above, circling the ship with grace. She was always the first to scout ahead, ever vigilant, keeping watch over the crew and the waters beyond.

You turned back to the two men on deck, clapping your hands together with a sharp sound that cut through the murmurs of the crew. "First things first," you called out, "If you're going to be aboard this ship, there's work to be done. If you need to scrub the deck, that's your job now."

Will looked at you with an air of resolve, clearly ready to prove himself. Jack, on the other hand, swayed slightly on his feet, glancing between you and the work ahead. You shot him a knowing look. "No time for napping, Sparrow," you added with a smirk. "You'll find the deck doesn't scrub itself."

A few of the crew members snickered, but you were all business. There was no room for slackers when the ship was at sea, and even the most seasoned pirates had to keep their hands busy. "Get to work," you said, turning toward the horizon, your mind already racing with the next steps of your journey.

Ember circled overhead, a silent sentinel in the sky, watching over both the ship and its crew. With her wings spread wide, she was the perfect reminder that freedom on the high seas came at a price—and that every sailor aboard had their part to play.

You made your way to the quarterdeck where the crew was hard at work, but as you neared the rail, a young, eager boy caught your eye. He was a new member of the crew, still adjusting to the life aboard the ship. You gave him a smile and a nod as he entered, setting down his gear.

Before you could take another step, you heard a familiar voice behind you—Jack, stumbling as usual, his steps unsteady from the previous night's rum. "Ms. L/N, but I—I'm the captain of this ship, aren't I? Why—why give me apprentice tasks?" he asked, confusion and irritation dancing in his tone. He looked to you, his brow furrowing, trying to make sense of the situation.

You turned to face him, your smile sharp and knowing, the orange light of the early morning reflecting in your eyes, gleaming like wet pearls. You gave Jack a long, steady look, and then spoke, your voice smooth but firm.

"Well, you were gone for a fortnight, dear Captain Jack," you said with a slight tilt of your head. "You get apprentice tasks as a payment for being on the run. You weren't here to lead, so now, you'll learn what it means to be at the bottom again."

Jack blinked, clearly taken aback by your response. For a moment, there was silence—then a soft grunt escaped him as he muttered something under his breath about pirates and their unfair treatment. But you knew better than to let his antics distract you.

"Now," you continued, turning back toward the horizon, your voice unwavering, "get to work. The ship won't sail itself, and you've got a lot of catching up to do."

Jack stood there for a moment, his expression a mix of disbelief and resignation. With a sigh, he slouched and began heading toward the deck, mumbling something about "shiny pearls" and "the unfairness of it all." You watched him go, satisfied that the lesson was learned.

As you stood tall on the quarterdeck, the wind in your hair, you knew one thing for certain: the high seas weren't kind to anyone, not even a captain.