Chapter Text
Once upon a time, in the land of Spyre, there were pirates. Among these pirates were the heroes of our story. Well, whether they were heroes remains to be seen. Among pirates, they were heroic, but among adventurers, they were quite villainous. And as these pirates were just realizing, the line between those two is much wider than many believe.
There are very few stories in this world that are solely about pirates. Even though pirates are themselves not boring, a story filled with nothing but drinking and plundering and saltwater would not be a very interesting one. So in this story, there are also kings, queens, and of course, princesses.
Who am I, you ask? I am irrelevant. I am simply the narrator to this story. And I feel I have already stolen too much of your attention. So, dear reader, please turn your mind to the focus of this story, Fabian Aramais Seacaster.
Fabian was a pirate in the way most people were bones, blood, and moral ambiguity. Being a pirate gave him shape, ran through his veins, and guided his actions and desires. It was not simply his identity, because identities are subject to change. Fabian did not exist without it. Part of this was that being a pirate was, metaphorically in several senses, in his blood. His father, Bill Seacaster, had been the most fearsome pirate Spyre had ever seen. Fabian was determined to be seen alongside his father on the podium of piracy, if such a thing existed.
Fabian did not feel particularly fearsome at the moment. It was hard to be fearsome when a foot was pinning his chest to the deck of his own ship. It was even harder to be fearsome when that foot belonged to a member of his own crew.
“Figueroth Faeth, unhand me!” he bellowed, doing his best to look like he was taking this seriously.
“Unhand you?” Fig’s eyes were gleaming mischievously. “Last I checked, my hands weren’t involved.”
“Unfoot me then.”
“And why would I do that”
“Because I am your captain.”
Fig looked down at Fabian, tilting her head. A smile tugged at her lips. “Not a good enough reason. But it’s your lucky day because my leg is getting tired.” Fig took her foot off of his chest, stepped back, and offered her hand to help Fabian up. He ignored it and got to his feet.
“Good work, Fig. Your swordsmanship is improving rapidly.” Fabian was doing his best to seem like he was not out of breath.
“Oh is it? Could you see that from all the way down flat on the deck?” Fig was beaming ear to ear. Fabian considered making his own sharp retort, but it was clear Fig was genuinely proud of herself. Instead, he clapped her on the shoulder and picked up his sword from where it had flown when Fig disarmed him.
“You might not be the best fighter on the ship for much longer, Captain!” Ragh called from a couple feet away where he had been poring over a map with Riz. They both had looked up sometime during the sparring, and now both sported slightly surprised grins.
Fabian chuckled. “Aye, better sharpen that sword, Fig. We make landfall on Fallinel in an hour. You know how tricky those elves can be.” Fig nodded, still smiling. Fabian nodded to Riz and Ragh “You’d better get ready, too, lads. Who knows what mission the King has for us.” Fabian glanced to the sliver of land barely visible on the horizon and turned towards his quarters.
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Dear reader, thank you for staying with me for all this time. You may recall that I promised you princesses. I would be remiss not to keep that promise.
At the moment, Princess Adaine Abernant was not feeling much like a princess. “Captive” would be more accurate. The metal shackles dug into her wrists, and the floor was uncomfortably cool against her calves. She assumed she was on a ship by the rocking and the distant sounds of waves, but she had been unconscious for the journey to wherever she was. She shivered, huddling into the corner of the cell she was in. If only she had gone to sleep the night before in a warmer nightgown. She hadn’t been expecting to be kidnapped. She took a deep breath. She had been avoiding thinking about the implications of her situation, but they were poking at the corner of her mind. She couldn’t hear any other prisoners. Was Kristin still alive? What about Gorgug and Aelwyn? Had her captors taken them, too? Or had they left them in Fallinel? Where were her captors taking her? Why had they captured her?
She could feel her chest tightening and her breathing quickening. No,no,no,no,no,no,no! This was not the time to have a panic attack. There were very few good times to have one, but especially not this. She dug her nails into her palms, trying to slow her breathing. She focused on the feeling of her hair against her neck. Something normal. Something familiar. Something not related to being locked up in the belly of a mysterious ship. She squeezed her eyes shut. Surprisingly, it seemed to be working. She rubbed her hands on her upper arms. She needed to make a plan. Surely, if they had kept her alive, they needed her for something. A bargaining chip, perhaps? Ransom against her parents? There were many reasons to kidnap a princess. She just had to hope that their reasons involved letting her go when they had achieved it and feeding her at least a bit in the meantime.
Every bone in her body itched to summon a flame and break out of the cell, but she knew that would only make the situation worse. A magical flame on a wooden ship was a recipe for disaster, and she was clearly somewhere in the ocean. Where would she even go? She had never needed to learn how to swim in Fallinel, and she certainly couldn’t sail a ship. Her best chance was to wait until the ship got to land and break away then. Maybe they were going to Highcourt or Sylvaire. Her parents had allies in both those places. She could call on them if needed. But judging by the general stench of the ship surrounding her, these were pirates. She racked her brain for anyone she knew on Leviathan. She couldn’t come up with anything. Just her luck. Adaine curled up closer to the corner of her cell facing the door. Maybe someone would pass by and she could gather information about where they were going.
Adaine summoned a small flame, just big enough to fit in her palm. It helped a bit with the cold, but the walls and floor were still chilling her back and legs. She wished she had been allowed to learn that spell Aelwyn had, the one that could change the temperature in a room for an hour. Her parents had said she wasn’t “stable enough” for that spell. “What if you go into one of your…episodes and lose control? You could set the castle on fire!” her mother had said, with that tone of both worry and condescension that Adaine had learned to associate with her. “No, it’s best you stay with the simple ones for now, Adaine. Once you have more control over yourself we can discuss the more complex ones.” Adaine had only learned the flame spell by stealing a spellbook from the library one night and practicing in her room in secret. She had planned to work her way through the whole spellbook and learn all of the spells her mother forbade her from casting, but she had been kidnapped before she got the chance. Well, if it came to it, she could always set the sails of the ship on fire or something to get away. If she ever got the chance to get out of her tiny, dark cell. For now, she would just have to bide her time alone with her tiny flame. It was as good as any company she could have.
Adaine must have drifted off to sleep at some point. She woke with a start to the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. What should she do? Wait by the door to ambush whoever was coming? Keep sitting sullenly in the corner and hope she looked pitiful? Pretend to still be unconscious? She didn’t have time to decide. The footsteps stopped in front of her cell.
“Good morning, your highness.” She couldn’t see the figure in the dark hallway outside her cell, but their voice was dripping in sarcasm. She chose not to respond. “Pleased to meet you and all that. They call me Old Young Benjamin on this here ship. I’m sure Captain Chungledown will be just thrilled to hear you’re awake.”
