Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I saw it tha’ night. Barely made it out, I did. Blended with tha’ water so damn well I couldn’t see the bloody beast ‘till it was too late.”

“Tha’s the thing. You see most of the other ones, the big buggers. Hear ‘em comin’ sometimes too, more than this one. It creeps up on ye, silent as if it ain’t even there ta’ begin with. It ain’t like the others. It knows wha’ it’s dealin’ with, it does. Huntin’ ships be merely playthings to it.”

“So black they be shadows. Attack at night, ‘cos they know we ain’t be able to see like them. It’s like they know we ain’t nocturnal, n’ use tha’ to their benefit. Can’t see ‘em at night, can’t see ‘em at all.”

“We’s been headin’ East. Big reef off tha’ coast the beasts love to collect ah’. Lots o’ fish n’ crabs for ‘em, ya see. One large buffet for the lazy ones tha’ are easier to kill. But not this one.”

“It follows ye. Keeps up with tha’ ship an’ you’d be none tha’ wiser. Can’t see it, can’t hear it. It’s smart about it, it knows how to toy with humans. Keep ‘em in tha’ dark, both figuratively an’ literally. Ya can’t escape the thing, can’t outsail it.”

“Midnigh’ I’m out on the deck, havin’ trouble sleepin’ ye see. Came out to lean on tha’ railin’ and look out ah’ the waves. Calms me, clears me head. ‘Specially since the last catch we caugh’ bein’ a big Brickleback. Those things are a nightmare to take down, and give ye a damn good exercise runnin’ around and tryin’ not ta’ die.”

“Then I hears it. Tha’ infernal gasp from below, like tha’ gates o’ hell ‘ave opened to swallow me whole. Souns’ like a demon announcin’ its presence… an’ tha’s exactly wha’ it is. Rattles yer bones, makes tha’ hairs on tha’ back o’ ye neck stand up like soldiers. I swear me own blood went dead frozen in tha’ moment.”

“Immediately I run for tha’ bell. Can already ‘ear that infernal monster clawing its way up the hull like a man on a mission. I reach it and yank on the rope like I wasn’t born for nothin’ else, yank it so hard my arm nearly pops outta its socket.”

“Can ‘ear the crew shoutin’ and rushin’ abou’ below deck, frantically scramblin’ to their feet to grab their guns n’ spare harpoons. Barely make a move to try n’ turn and I feel this things claws sink into me back, rippin’ flesh raw befores I could even scream.”

“Hit the deck so hard I’m seein’ stars, not ta’ menshun’ me back feels like it’s on fire. So damn painful I nearly pass out righ’ then an’ there on tha’ floor.”

“Rolls me ova’, and I get a face-full of them eyes. Brightest greeny-blue I ever damn seen. For the devil reincarnate, you’d think you’d drowned in paradise just getting a good lookin’ into these things big ass peepers. Like the ocean on a clear summers day.”

“First thing ye notice about ‘em at all. Scales as black as night, yet eyes as bright as all hells. Captivatin’, truly. Glitterin’ like jewels. Nearly forgoh’ this beastie intended to rip me open and slice me a wonderful new ‘ole in me chest. Felt its claws around me neck for but a moment, saw that bloody mouth of ‘is open with all them pearly teeth n’ nearly pissed meself.”

“Captain got to ‘im before ‘e could finish me off though. Shot a bullet righ’ through its tail. I swear it screamed like a human, I swear it did. Bolted for the railin’ so fast after tha’ the Captain missed ‘is shot twice more. Heard it hit the waves headfirs’, but didn’t even see it past tha’. Prolly swam off, it did. Heard this louder splash follow after, heavens knows what it was.”

“Smart creatures, they are. Know when to back off and when to keep pushin’. Strike so fast their prey ain’t even get a damn chance to react.”

“Following mornin’ I got meself stitched up by tha’ ship doctor. But that ain’t the worse part, no. This thing ‘ad purposefully knocked the remaining’ harpoons overboard the night before, so we were useless to try ‘an kill any beasts at the reef. Awful thing got back at tha’ Captain. Had to sail all the way back home to dock an’ stock back up again.”

“Found a claw in the railin’ couple days after. Musta’ been ripped out when it knocked me ova’. Sharpest thing ye ever seen. Lucky to still be alive, I am.”

“After all… they don’t call it the Black Death for nothin’.”

Chapter Text

A chittering squawk echoed from above, the black-backed gull landing on the faded teal railing of the ship, tucking its wings behind it comfortably.

Captain Crow’s rugged features contorted with confusion, as he looked up to bear witness to masses of white and grey bodies congregating on the main mast. Hundreds of birds, all having flocked to settle on the wooden beams like they were the very same barnacle-covered rocks by the coasts. That could only mean one thing.

“It’s below us—“ Crow muttered with dawning realisation, his brows furrowed and eyes wide as he figured out the infernal beast's plan.

The Inevitable rocked violently sideways, its wooden body being consumed by the brute force of such a large and heavily armoured creature. The Brickleback burst from the waves in an impressive explosion of salty water, spraying the deck and crew with a thick mist of brine. Its serrated jaws opened to let rip a blood-curdling roar, shaking the ship and eardrums of those aboard with the vibrations. It was clear that this would be no small feat, with this monster in particular already being nearly twice the size of those they’d fought previously, and much, much angrier. It meant business.

Crewmembers desperately clung to anything they could get ahold of, some tumbling and falling into the blue below. Barrels and buckets toppled, hitting the waves with heavy splashes, promptly sinking. Jacob managed to catch and grab onto some half-ripped rigging, dangling midair like a fly caught in the web of a hungry spider. He grunted, teeth gritted as he tried to keep a firm hold on the rope, though proving somewhat difficult.

Lea was struggling herself, clutching onto the smooth tapered mast of the crows nest in an attempt to prevent herself from falling a good twenty-or-so feet at best. Her arms ached, and the incessant thrashing of the Inevitable wasn’t aiding her at all. The bright multicoloured flags secured at the very tip of the mast whipped in the wind, thrashing about like eels out of water.

The massive Brickleback slammed its hard jaws down onto the drenched deck, trying to take a chunk out of the ship as if it were the prey itself. Its moulded ‘teeth’ carved deep scores into the woodwork, dead set on dragging this giant wooden construction to the bottom of the sea right along with it. A man hit the quarterdeck, scrambling for a semblance of purchase as he hurtled forward and was promptly claimed by the choppy waves. His surprised and terrified call for help was immediately silenced, instead receiving a mouthful of saltwater.

The creature wound its tail around the front of the ship, wood creaking and splintering under the sheer force of its large tail. Likely aiming to put more weight on and stand a better chance at sinking it, the monster got to work at trying to pin it down with its already preoccupied mouth. Constriction, it believed, was the best way to vanquish such a sizable foe.

Green tentacles burst from the water, splitting open into three fingered hand-like appendages. Lea has managed to find more flexible ground, crouched on the thick shrouds of the main mast. She raised her wooden bow, arrow prepped to fire. Yet her plans were cut short as she was suddenly snatched at lightning speed by one of the Brickleback’s slimy tentacles, crying out sharply.

A high-pitched screech rang out from above, Captain Crow glancing upward. He raised a calloused hand to shield his eye from the blazing sun above, being met with a long tentacle coming straight for him. He grunted and used his remaining energy to dodge its path of trajectory, bracing himself against a near-broken section of railing. Unsheathing his cutlass, the blade shining in the heat of the sun, he sliced clean through the wet appendage.
He felt the following tentacle before saw it, its ‘fingers’ squeezing his sides as if it intended to pop him open. He yelled out, his gruff voice piercing the already deafening chaos, only serving to contribute to the choir of terrified and exhausted human voices.

Ink-black blood splurged from a severed Brickleback arm, Sarah cutting it off with trained precision. She produced a pistol from the inner depths of her pale blue coat, swiftly shooting a silver bullet through another and flinging the gun away to hear it skid across the deck. No time for reloading, only time for bringing this hellbent beast to its watery grave. She forced the cutlass down into another writhing teal mass, smoke erupting from two more flintlocks as their shots dug themselves into the soft flesh of more squirming tentacles. One after the other; she could not be stopped.

Jacob at last managed to haul himself up onto the mizzen, the Piper’s semi-deflated bagpipes screaming in protest as the creature snatched him up like a starved dog kept of food in the distance.

He could hear others shouting his name across the wreckage of the ship, surveying with a churning gut the destruction and subsequent havoc being wreaked across the Inevitable. The gyrating sections of its humungous tail had weaved themselves around the hull, its jaws dug deeply into the cracking wood of the quarterdeck. The mizzen and foremast groaned under the dual pressure from both ends, and he could see shards splitting like icebergs rising from beneath the waves. One of his fellow crewmembers waved and thrashed in the unforgiving ocean, Lea being mercilessly dragged off the shrouds like a mere berry plucked from a bush.

But he knew what he had to do.

He let out a grunt of determination as he sprang from his stationary position, dashing up the main mast. He severed the ties of a buoy for the man in the water below, a pang of relief flooding him as he heard a yell of exhausted appreciation.
In the same breath, he leapt into the air, his dagger slicing down into a thick tentacle as ivory splattered across the wood below. Lea nodded to him, urging him to continue on as she regained her strength, panting heavily and trying to recover from nearly being squeezed to death like a tube of toothpaste.

His amber eyes locked on the Piper, currently being whisked around in the air as if some sort of toy to the gargantuan creature. He spotted the abandoned harpoon beside him, using the tip of his boot to kick it upwards and into his hand. Hauling his arm back, he flung the thin metal weapon at the slimly arm gripping the Piper by his middle, another high-pitched screech of pain informing the blond Hunter that his hit had struck true.

He dived forward and managed to successfully catch the plump man in his arms, nearly toppling over from the sudden force of getting ahold of him. He groaned as he heaved himself to stand properly, the bagpipes whining as the Piper kept a tight grasp on his precious instrument. The pair of them shared an awkward look, their attention falling to the Brickleback below.

Its feral focus shifted to stare directly at them both, its piercing scarlet gaze locked on them alone. Jacob’s face read a mixture of dumfounded worry, the Piper blowing weakly on the mouthpiece of the bagpipes in defeat.

Jacob managed to leap off the beam of wood, narrowly escaping death as the Brickleback’s serrated maw slammed together, the wood screaming as it snapped like a mere twig. He landed roughly on the middle fighting top, his boots almost slipping on the wood and costing him an ankle… or two. The beast followed, snapping at his heels as he flung himself to the next landing, this time easier to reach due to the sheer angle the Inevitable was currently tilting at. He knocked into the foremast, the wind nearly being ripped from his lungs.

Crow was preoccupied with trying to hold back a rather insistent tentacle with his cutlass, pressed flat against the mass of green slithering flesh. He glanced up to see the man hopping from upper top to upper top, letting out an amused scoff at the absurdity of the situation.

The blond allowed himself to hurtle downwards, hitting the soft and slightly soaked velvet-coloured sail below, thankful it had cushioned their joint fall. He quickly heaved himself out by grabbing ahold of the rigging beside, letting out a wobbly yelp as he slid down the drenched wooden boards beneath his slippery boots. His feet his the worn railing below, snatching a nearby harpoon with practised ease.

He avoided the writhing masses of tentacles creeping over and attempting to engulf the ship, nimbly hopping and sprinting between both wood and flesh, grabbing a stray harpoon. His eyes flickered up, spotting an opening which he wasted no time in taking. He used his remaining strength to send the weapon hurtling towards the beast. In an almost comical stroke of luck, the sharp tipped end found home in the already open wound of the Brickleback’s head, its pupils reducing to narrow slits at the sudden spike of pain.

The beast let out an agonised roar, collapsing backwards and releasing its crushing grip on the Inevitable as its body hit the water and sending a spray of brine in every direction.

Jacob hit the deck hard, tumbling before his back slammed into the surprisingly unbroken stairs. He groaned in pain and shifted, seeing his ginger crewmate beside him, currently half-hid beneath the shelter provided by the steps.

“Don’t worry lad, we got it righ’ where we want it.” He attempted to reassure the boy, unaware of the danger he was still in.

“Jacob, look out!” The other yelled and pointed at the oncoming tentacle heading straight from him, wind whipping at its shiny skin. The blond raised his hand in a feeble and ultimately pointless gesture of hoping to stop the arm, being smacked and flung impossibly high into the air as a result. He landed in the ocean with a large splash, soaking him immediately.

“Jacob!” Captain Crow yelled out, hands braced against the railing as if holding himself back from reaching for his adopted son, “Man overboard! Hard to port! Haul them lines, ya swabs!”

“Hard to port!” Echoed Ms Merino, her frizzy amber hair whipping in the wind.

Jacob gasped as he broke the surface, coughing and spluttering up salty seawater that he’d ingested upon impact with the sea. He treaded water, his arms moving towards and away from his body, pulling the water in and out to stay afloat. He could suddenly feel the expanse ripple and vibrate beneath him, looking down for a mere moment to see the steadily growing turquoise silhouette of the Brickleback making its return.

The beast broke through the waves with its immeasurable power, scooping him up in between its jaws. Seawater collected in its mouth like a pool of certain death, spilling over the sides and dribbling down its neck. Jacob yelped, scrambling forwards and leaping out within inches of the creature snapping its mouth shut promptly. He would have been well and truly gone if it weren’t for his strength and quick thinking.

The beast dove, returning to the drink and pulling Jacob down with it. He sucked in a breath as he was forced below the waves, witnessing just how large this thing truly was up close, and how well it managed to blend in with the sea.

He wove in and out of tentacle after tentacle, avoiding being pushed further down into the bottomless wake beneath his feet. He waited for another whipping down toward him, and latched on, allowing it to bring him back up to the surface as the monster tried to disorient its prey by flinging him up into the air once more. He gasped, grateful for fresh lungfuls of a salty sea breeze.

He hit the Brickleback’s back hard, grunting in pain as he tumbled backwards, lashing out with calloused hands to grab ahold of one of the hard plated sections this thing used to protect itself. The beast proceeded to buck and thrash about like an agitated horse, getting under its skin both figuratively and literally.

Crow watched on from the ship, before deciding to take action when he saw the perfect opening. He ran to grab the spear above the Captain’s quarters, a snarl pulling at his lips.

Jacob yelped, caught and squished between the section he held onto. He noticed the gleam of his dagger strapped to his hip, unsheathing it and stabbing firmly downwards into the creature’s soft mint flesh. He could hold on no longer as the Brickleback screeched and writhed, sending him tumbling once more into the ocean. He braced himself before impact, tucking his arms and legs in a pin-like position to prevent him either bellyflopping horrendously or gutting himself like a fish with his dagger.

“Time has come ya devil!” Crow growled ferociously, sprinting for the figurehead and leaping off the jibboom. He yelled as he plunged the thick spear into the beast’s heart, its pupil shrinking upon impact as it screamed a gargled protest, its body going slack.

The monster slumped backwards, sinking slowly beneath the waves as it gasped a final dying breath. The crew watched with admiration and relief from the railing of the ship in the background, Captain Crow disappearing with it, but not before taking a large lungful of coppery salt-smelling air.

The man waited until both he and the infernal beast were fully submerged, before using his boot to kick off from the chest. He produced a serrated saw from the many tools strapped to his black leather belt, one hand holding the horn in place as he began to sever the thick chitin shell. It came off smoothly, beginning to already float to the surface due to its hollow inside structure. Crow followed, swimming upward.

That was until he felt a slimy appendage coil tightly around his leg. Panic and fear spiked in his gut, swiftly trying to kick at it and tug in a desperate attempt to make the thing let go. He snorted, bubbles pooling from his mouth and nose, his vision flickering and blurring until all he was left with was the rapidly fading expanse of cold ocean above him.

———

“Captain. Captain. Captain!” Jacob shook the man’s shoulder, sighing with relief and backing off as he saw him open his eyes at last.
“He’s coming to.” Someone else muttered, all eyes on his soaked form.

Crow gasped and spluttered, looking shocked and confused as he panted for air, drenched and sopping wet on the cold wooden beams beneath him. He was back on the Inevitable, safe. Yet he couldn’t help the bubble of shame, embarrassment, and aggravation at nearly dying not even ten minutes prior. He felt like he’d nearly failed his crew.

The crew watched on with a unified expressed concern as he pushed himself to his feet, making his way over to the railing to look out at the blue horizon. A sombre look crossed his features, seeing the tail of the Red Bluster in the distance. It was like it was taunting him, highlighting his near-death and the fact it had yet again escaped. Gulls flocked to the massive creature, following the shape of its tail in a janky and unorganised formation.

Silence fell over the Inevitable, made more apparent by the quiet after the storm, the lack of the Brickleback’s guttural roars or the screaming of crewmembers.

“Captain, tha’ mizzens in splinters, an’ I don’t like the main.” Sarah spoke, wincing as the mast creaked and groaned as if to back up her point.

“She can’t fight.” Ms Merino nodded, her hand held close to her chest, the other tucked behind her back.

“Then we’ll come back for tha’ bluster when she can.” Jacob said, “Repairs shouldn’t take too long—“

“Set a course for Three Bridges. We’re goin’ home.” Crow interrupted, exhaling sharply through his nose as he turned to head for his office. His wet clothes squelched with each step, and the sound of the door slamming shut rang out clearly across the quiet expanse of the damaged deck.

The message was clear enough; the Bluster was still out there, and they weren’t in any shape to follow. They’d have to delay hope of catching it for yet another time.

Chapter Text

“There was a time when children dreaded the night, for the sleeping hours brought visions of horror.” Maisie read aloud, eyes the colour of honeyed pecans, flicking from word to word. It had become tradition now, within the humble orphanage, for the girl to read tales of the Hunter’s greatness before bedtime. Hearing of their many successes, however, often made the children too filled with excitement to go to sleep.

“The dark times, when those terrible sea beasts would ravage our shores, and no ship was safe on the sea.” She read aloud, the children watching by the soft, warm glow of candlelight. Hands on cheeks, eyes wide, fully and utterly captivated.

“But thanks to the Hunters, those days are over. Today, these valiant warriors battle the beasts far beyond the horizon, risking their lives to rid the seas of those nightmare creatures.”

One of the orphans, a small blond boy by the name of Max, stared up at the dark-skinned girl in awe. He too wanted to be a Hunter someday, just like her. And these stories made him feel as if even his wildest dreams were within his reach.

“And the greatest of the huntin’ ships is the Inevitable—“

“And the greatest of tha’ Hunters is Captain Crow!” Another rather rowdy boy, Daniel, leapt onto the bed behind her, wooden sword raised in triumph as he sported his very own eyepatch and paper pirate hat. He roared giddily, smacking his sword down in a frenzied attack into the slightly stained pillow, sending an explosion of white feathers bursting from the seams.

“Hey!” Maisie scolded lightly, with creased brows and an amused smirk. She blew a stray feather from one of the thick curls against her forehead, watching briefly as it fluttered down to the floor. She cleared her throat, raising a brow as she asked him pointedly, “Who’s readin’ this story?”

“Oh my word! What’s this?” Came a voice from the now-open door, Matron standing there with shock written clearly across her features. She gasped, a lantern clutched in her other hand.

“Lights-out was an hour ago. Oh, you’ll be the death of me. Come on, along, along you pop.” The woman fussed, shaking her head as she massaged her temple for a moment. The children groaned collectively, reluctantly making their way back to their individual beds and clambering beneath the covers.

“And Miss Maisie,” Matron emphasised, giving her a pointed look, “The King and Queen care for you hunter orphans out of their kindness.” She reminded the rather insistent troublemaker, gesturing up to the two gold-rimmed portraits that sat elegantly between a wooden emblem; that of the Crown and Kingdom.

“When you disobey the house rules, you disrespect them.” Maisie was only half-listening as she continued to speak, not the least bit guilty with wide eyes and her mouth set into a thin line. She looked more as though she were trying to wait until Matron had finished her usual speech. It never once made her feel regretful for what she so often did, and that fact was reiterated more now than ever.

“So we’re not going to have any more… attempts, now are we?” The red-headed woman inquired in an accusatory manner, having an inkling of a feeling that it didn’t quite matter what she said or how she said it. Maisie would just do as she always did. She had never gone too far, at least, and always came back in the morning. But she wanted to believe she could trust the young orphan this time… even if that trust was very likely to be betrayed.

“Absolutely not.” Maisie answered, her book shut yet not forgotten in her lap. Still that same look on her face, like she wasn’t entirely listening. Scheming in her head.

Matron’s eyes narrowed, assessing the girl sharply.

“Hmm.” She hummed, before turning and promptly turning on her heel to leave. She shut the door with a soft ‘click’ behind her, leaving Maisie to her not-so-secretive plans.

As soon as the woman left, a crafty smirk whittled it’s way onto her round features, slapping the book’s pages shut. With practised precision, she slipped on a plum-coloured dress with mulled green sleeves, pulling that over her bottom layer. The little troublemaker snatched her satchel and boots from under bed, remaining feathers still scattered on the floor. They puffed into the air at the slightest disturbance.

She flicked a shiny gold coin to another readily waiting child, a lanky, curly-haired boy named Matthew. He grinned as he tucked himself beneath the covers of her bed, the drill now ingrained into his mind from the countless times she’d snuck out before.

Maisie pushed a large chest of drawers over to sit beneath the round window above, grunting as she nearly slipped for a moment. When it rested neatly, she yanked out the drawers to form makeshift stairs, scrabbling to pull herself up and crouch on the pale curved bricks hugging the brim of her intended escape route. Lucy, a girl who happily aided her in these little night adventures, handed her a bucket containing a chisel and hammer on a long hooked pole.

“Fair travels, me swabs.” She nodded, using the hammer and chisel to crack open the window as if it were a clam. It swung open, some dust fluttering in the air.

“And remember!” She called down, raising her hand as if she were conducting a grand speech, “Live a great life, and die a great death!”

A chorus of, “Bye bye Maisie! We’ll miss you! See you tomorrow!”, rang out from the room below, all wishing her safe travels and hoping she’d be back tomorrow morning.

Maisie nimbly scooted across the wooden beam of the building and slid soundly down the battered drainpipe, stumbling as she hit the ground running. She wasted no time in kicking off into a sprint, dashing off into the woods through flowery meadows under the shine of the moon. Grass licked at her ankles and shins, dandelions and daisies dotting the expanse surrounding her.

Over logs she leapt, over streams she soared. Pebbles and small clumps of dirt were dislodged in her wake, boots hammering against the soft earth and rocks leading down to the cliff edge. Up above, a small short-eared owl hooted, its sleek head turning to watch the child embark on what would be a truly remarkable yet terrifying journey. The moon hung high in the sky, stars twinkling as they swam amidst an ocean of shadowy spools of night.

When Maisie reached the edge, she slowed down to a halt. Grass swayed where she stood, encasing the top of the cliff in a green blanket. The sea stretched on as far as she could imagine, kissing the sky where the horizon began. A slight breeze blew, cold and salty and smelling entirely of home. It gave her a newfound sense of determination; she was going to become a Hunter. And that goal was entirely within her reach now.

She’d spread her wings. And this fledgling was ready to fly. And now, staring out across the very place she intended to make a name for herself, she knew that things would never be the same from here on out. And it excited her. She loved it.

For she was Maisie Brumble, the greatest sea beast Hunter to soon sail the seven seas. 

Chapter Text

A lantern swung above, secured by a small metal ring to the wooden ceiling below deck. Its flame flickered, casting a warm glow on the space around it, attempting to assure aching sailors that they were safe, for now. Medical tools hung on the far left wall, an assortment of instruments secured tightly so they wouldn’t fall. Hammers and saws and curious pronged contraptions.

“Righ’ mess, aren’t ye?” The surgeon mumbled, pushing his spectacles up his nose as he worked the needle in and out of Jacob’s torn flesh with practiced ease. “Let’s get ya’ fixed up.”

Jacob slowly unwound the bandages on his calloused hands, slightly damp and dirty from their previous encounter with the Brickleback. His eyes remained fixed on his scarred fingers, tracing the pale lines silently and solemnly. The dark-haired, slightly tanned man attending to him continued to thread the needle through, letting out a breath as he tugged the two pieces of ripped skin together against the piece of sterilised string.

“If ye know what’s good for ya, you’ll keep clear o’ tha’ Cap’n.” Came Yuna’s voice from across the confined space, leant against one of the wooden beams with her muscled arms crossed over her chest. It was clear that the other crew members were also wary of Crow after the events of that morning.

“’E was close enough ta’ smell tha’ Red Devil.” Fenn added, adjusting her hooked hand by twisting the base of it to the side a tad. She smoothed down her short, dark hair, shaking her head. She felt the anger and regret emanating off the Captain in waves, he’d likely be locked away in his quarters for hours.

“But if ’e can’t ‘ave tha’ Bluster’s hide, he’ll ‘ave ours, to be sure.” Old Nick murmured, rubbing a hand over his bearded jaw. He wasn’t looking forward to the potential repercussions of the crew failing Crow, especially after they’d lost such a valuable kill.

Coughing echoed around the space, deflated looks on crew member’s faces being reflected in each of their weary gazes.

“Why, it’s gloomy as tha’ Helgard trenches in ‘ere.” Jacob grunted as he pushed himself off the table he was being tended to, shaking himself off a little to distract from the feeling of the needle. The surgeon stumbled for a moment, rushing around to try and continue stitching him up as he got to his feet.

“We’ve taken some righ’ proper monsta’s on this hunt. An’ tha’  royals will pay us accordin’ly.” He said, lightly bumping his knuckles on the same boy he’d told to get under the staircase earlier. Arnold, his name was, arm now hung limply in a sling.
“An’ then we’ll come back, and we’ll take tha’ Red Devil.” He began walking, keeping their attention as the surgeon followed him and continued stitching diligently.

“Can we bea’ it Jacob? They say the Bluster moves the very sea.” Arnold spoke up, his brows upturned in both hope and caution. He didn’t yet fully believe they were prepared to take in such a fabled creature if they’d practically had their asses handed to them that day by a Brickleback.

“Aye, and it shoots fireballs ou’ of its eyes, they say,” Jacob smirked, grabbing his shirt and beginning to pull it over his arms, “It’s enough to make ya’ knees wobble.”
The surgeon sliced through the string with his scissors, punctuating the blond’s words.

“But I ain’t afraid. ‘Cos I’m on tha’ Inevitable with you lot.” He pointed to the floor below, as if to make a statement as he pulled his shirt on at last. He did truly believe that with the help of his crew, this amazingly unique and diverse group of people, anything could be possible. Even killing the Red Bluster.

He carried on, his words giving him hope. “This ship ‘as taken more o’ them beasts than any other. An’ she’s got tha’ scars ta’ prove it.”

“As do we, Jacob!” Old Nick grinned as he showed off a massive purple scar on his arm, laughing boisterously. None of them were afraid to let others see the damage they’d sustained whilst aboard the ship. In fact, it was like a right of passage.

“Aye. And every Hunter’s scar is a life saved.” Jacob nodded approvingly, a smile tugging at his lips. He moved to stand before the crewmate closest to him, placing a hand on his armoured shoulder.

“A merchan’ sailor on their firs’ voyage.” The burly dark-skinned man stood tall as he was addressed, dipping his head almost imperceptibly. Daniel could remember the first time he’d encountered a Brickleback, and he would have been scared shitless if it weren’t for the strength he felt and had gained from fighting alongside this ragtag Hunter family.

“A mother.”  Yuna’s mouth set in a line, the muscular, bald woman acknowledging her duty as both a protector of the sea and a protector of her children. She felt a surge of emotion, but forced it to bury itself for now. The lantern’s glow shone off her earring in the dim light below deck.

“A son.” The blond boy nodded, Christopher’s mind going immediately to the scar that stretched from his brow to his cheek. It reminded him of past hunts gone wrong, and how despite that he still came out alive and kicking.

“All Hunters die of tha’ same thing.” Jacob paused, taking a second to survey the people with him in that moment.

“Aye, being a hunter.” Fenn chuckled, nudging Old Nick. This got a few laughs from nearby crewmates.

“Tha’s righ’! Bein’ a Hunter.” He nodded, and he could see a growing glimmer of hope in the crew as they began to look inspired. “But every Hunter dies a grea’ death. Becaus’ every Hunter lives a grea’ life!” He said with vigour, the crew nodding and cheering in agreement. They crowded around him and patted him on his shoulders and back appreciatively, grinning and whistling.

“Jacob!” Came the sudden and sharp interruption of none other than Sarah herself. She didn’t show much aside from keeping her expression neutral, but the rest could tell Jacob was in deep shit. “Cap’n would like a word.”

“Speaking of dying a great death!” Old Nick gaffawed after a beat of silence, slapping him on his broad back.

“Nice knowing you Jacob!” Fenn joins in, waving her hook around like a flag. Perhaps they’d raise a flag for him at his funeral after he and Crow had a little chat. The crew of the Inevitble followed him as he ascended the stairs to the upper deck, grinning and giggling like excited children eager to see one of their friends get in trouble.

“We’ll think of you often, an’ fondly!” Nick yelled up as Jacob disappeared from view, hanging onto the wooden beams that helped to hold up the ceiling like it were a pole to swing on.

Laughter echoed from below as he knocked thrice on the Captain’s door. He slowly pushed it open, the hinges creaking from decades of use.

———————

“You wanted to see me, captain?” Jacob questioned warily as he stepped into the room, brows knitted. He had a feeling what was coming, and knew it wouldn’t be pretty. He’d faced this time and time before… now wouldn’t be different, surely?

“Sit.” Crow ordered, two candles shedding light on the mahogany table as the sky outside darkened into a mixture of plum and navy. A bottle of rum sat atop the table, the drink inside sloshing along with the waves rocking the ship. Jacob promptly wasted no time in trying to reassure and defuse the situation.

“Cap’n, we’ll get tha’ Bluster. We know where it is now, and you will ‘ave ya’ revenge.” He stumbled over words a bit as he thought would be in trouble. He sat down, feeling his stomach churn.

“I’m.. I’m jus’ sorry it wasn’t today.” The blond muttered softly.

“Jacob, I ’ate tha’ devil with every fibre in me bein’. But savin’ Jim Nicklebones was the righ’ thing ta’ do.” Crow unplugged the cork from the bottle and poured them each a shot into brass cups. The liquid swirled like little red whirlpools for a moment. Jacob tried not to think about what would have happened if they’d attempted to take on the Bluster today instead of the Brickleback. Perhaps instead of rum, it would be their blood. Whisked and pulled and swept beneath the waves alongside their bloated bodies.

“Ya’ steered me righ’ today.” His words snapped Jacob from his trance, now focusing on the drink as he was handed it over the wooden table. He blinked, looking somewhat baffled at the different direction in which this conversation was being steered.

“Well I’m— I’m glad you see it tha’ way.” He frowned, brows furrowing, looking confused as he accepted the rum regardless.

“So we’ll go home, collect our bounty, and repair tha’ ship.” Captain Crow stated simply, plugging the cork back on the bottle, watching the liquid inside for a brief moment. “And we’ll come back for that beast and bring hell down upon it.”

He raised the cup to cheers him and drained it after, sighing gruffly as he placed it on his desk. He gripped the rim with his thumb and forefinger, shifting it a little to show  the curly signature carved into the side; ‘AC’, it read. Augustus Crow.

He pushed himself off the desk, features settling into one of pensive neutrality.
“An’ then wha’? Wha’ is to become of tha’ Inevitable, after I’m gone?” He mused, heading off to look out the window at the sea beyond.

An entire world, separated by a single frame of glass. An entire world that Hunters aimed to conquer. A world to which they had adapted so quickly, one that, after today, had reminded him just how unforgiving the ocean could be. They were out of their element, desperately trying to bend it to their whim.

Jacob continued to look confused, but steeled his face against the dull melancholic ache in his gut. He wouldn’t show weakness in front of his adoptive father. Not now, at least. Even though they both knew the reality of their own mortality. Hell, it laughed in their faces every time they took on another beast, sneering cruelly when they’d managed to survive another day. Divine apes aboard a wooden casket, sailing the restless waters of their soon-to-be grave.

Crow sighed deeply, mouth set in a firm line, “Through battle an’ wear, every beam, block, an’ spar ‘as been replaced since tha’ day she was launched.”  He told the other, heading over to Jacob and placing a warm, heavy hand on his shoulder. “Yet she lives on.”

He stood before a framed painting of the Inevitable, its artistic glory hanging above the small bookshelf below, “It’s an eternal thing,” He whispered, eyes narrowed in his admission, “But I am not.”

The man opened a cabinet built into the bookshelf, prying it open from the small knob on the side, and took out a rather large and dusty worn book. “Come.”

He opened it to reveal the same curly font from before, ‘Augustus Crow III’. His hands gripped a large chunk of pages, lifting it up to clearly separate it from the countless others.

”’Ere is my greatness.” And another chunk of pages he took, feeling the weight of each individual page like the weight of the legacies before him. “And my fathers before me. And ‘is fathers before ‘im”.

Jacob approached, stopping to stand beside his Captain quietly. Generations of Hunters, their last remaining records contained in a single leather-bound book. He frowned, feeling a tinge of something in his stomach. Nervousness? Perhaps. He couldn’t pinpoint it.

“On tha’ day we take tha’ Red Bluster,, I will make me last entry as Cap’n.” Crow flipped to a sea of plain pages, stark and white and begging to be filled. “And then it will be your time.”

He glanced down, a soft smile tugging at his features. He was proud. Proud of the man his son was growing to be. Jacob met that gaze, slightly wide eyed and surprised. He’d never once imagined a day where he wouldn’t be led under the orders of the man before him, the idea now suddenly dawning on him oh so terribly. And yet, he felt excited. Relieved. He deserved to rest one day, to put that trust into the hands of another. He’d done an honourable service, one that warranted a good and noble retirement.

Crow let out a breath from his nose. “I’ve known it since the day I pulled you from the sea.”

He remembered Jacob as a child, dehydrated and hungry yet breathing, raising his weary head to look up from a rotting piece of floating driftwood and see Captain Crow’s silhouette against the searing shine of the sun.

“You’d been ou’ there for days. But there was somethin’ in ya, Jacob. A fire tha’ wouldn’t die.” He commended, setting a calloused palm to his shoulder once again.
“Then I ’eld you, an’ I knew.” The man leant back and smiled. “Fates ‘ad brough’ me a son. And tha’ one day, you would be Captain of tha’ Inevitable.”

Jacob’s gaze flickered down to blank pages, turning through them and witnessing his own legacy taking shape in the corners of his imagination. Ink scrawled across paper, his destiny laid out before him. He let his hand linger on one, breathing in deep the smell of promise and future.

“Tha’ day you foun’ me, I swore I would do everythin’ in my power to keep people safe from them demons. If you would grant me this ship, I would accept.” He took a moment to survey the cabin, its warmth and its comfort. “An’ it would be my ’onour.”
Crow chuckled, brining him into a tight embrace, restraining himself from practically beaming with pride. He’d raised his son right.

“My boy.” He whispered fondly. “You’re gunna do great things.” 

Chapter Text

Species name: “Black Death” (Siren or Night-stalker)

Physical characteristics: Dark-scaled bodies, big green-blue eyes and a humanoid build. Sharp, spiny fins and body. Fins on head, back, and tail - tail similar to a shark. Can swim or walk on land. Males have fin below jaw.

Height/length: Adults 5-6 feet standing or lying down, pups 2-3 feet. Males larger than females.

Behaviour: Females are more aggressive and territorial, attacking first, whilst males tend to hang back. Predominantly found alone/in pairs, but have been seen in larger packs.  Break surface with distinctive sharp breath. Able to mimic voices or sounds they hear, have been known to parrot words said by sailors and Hunters alike as a means of luring men in. Stick close to surface of water and congregate around rocky shores. Swim with their back fin above water. Males change colour from black to patches of red and green during warmer months.

Hunting tactics: Stalk then ambush with bursts of speed. Use teeth, claws, and tail to kill / either by biting and scratching or striking people with their tails. Keep harpoons or cutlasses out of their reach as they can (and will) use weapons against you. Repeat sounds or voices to trick Hunters.

Crown’s price: 45,000 gold pieces for decapitated head or skull / price risen due to decrease in numbers over past decades, as species driven to near extinction.

Aggression level: High (females), Moderate (males).

Difficulty to kill: Moderate / speed and cunning compensates for size.

Human casualties/kills: Low, maim rather than slaughter.

Weaknesses: Small, can be overpowered. Easier to kill once on land, so push the fight ashore or drag onto the ship. Tail is heavy and slows them down. Blind the eyes or cripple the tail/legs. Males are weaker compared to females.

Hunter’s notes:
* Keep your wits about you, especially when they come up to breath as it may be the only indicator of their presence nearby
* Look out for their sail fin above water
* In areas where there are reports of them being spotted, have the lookout check the sides of the ship to ensure your crew isn’t being followed or tailed
* Don’t trust voices from the rocks
* Have the strongest men overpower it in threes, but pin it down quickly
* Sharp, close-range weapons are most effective / spear through chest or stomach to deliver killing blow

—————————

Shae. That was the name that had been festering like mold between coastal towns, spreading through hushed whispers of dockhands and passed around with wary tones by nobles and common-folk alike. A name that promised carnage, a name that had paved a path of fear for itself amongst Hunters.

Hunting ship after hunting ship sunk, their giant wooden bodies rotting slowly beneath the waves as they joined the countless skeletal remains of slaughtered sea beasts. Sails shredded, hulls groaning under the weight of steadily incoming water. Those that made it back to shore made certain to recount their experience to eager ears.

The Crown knew. They’d heard through idle chatter, talk of a creature that hadn’t been seen for decades; one that had dragged itself from the brink of extinction to enact revenge on any Hunting ship that so much as dared to make its presence known. Issuing warnings and bounties had done nothing, as anybody who attempted to kill such a beast always returned pitifully empty-handed.

Shae. Shae, who would taunt and mock and insult. Whose bark was just as worse as her bite. Hunters stood next to nothing compared to the wrath of her claws. Immobilising ships as the numbers of the sunken only seemed to grow, having surpassed double digits not even days into when the attacks had started happening.

She wasn’t out for blood; she was out for honour. The currency of a Hunter, one she intended to destroy. Penance, she’d said once. Penance for the blood of her kin on Hunter hands. Penance for all those beasts lost before her, and ones she aimed to protect in the future. She was a testimony against the way of a Hunter, an act of scaled rebellion wrapped in rage and spiny fins.

—————————

“She talks t’ya. Comes up from tha’ ocean speakin’ o’ justice an’ all tha’. She ain’t like tha’ others, she… she’s more human than anyone’s comfortable wih’. Then she tears ye ship t’ribbons, an’ leaves ya crew f’dead. Doesn’t kill no-one, nah… simply let’s ya stomach wha’ we all dish ou’ as Hunters. Sunken ships fo’ sunken beasts.”

—————————

“I ain’t seen one o’ those beasts since me days helpin’ in me Pa’s shop. Huntin’ ship hauls one o’ them off, an’ you really get ta’ see how… familiar they be lookin‘, up close. They ain’t human, by no means. But they ain’t fully beast, either. Got tha’ look in their eyes, like… like they feel what we feel. See what we see. Watched its body get dragged away, an’ I just— just couldn’t sleep tha’ nigh’. All I could see was them eyes, blank an’ hollow. The other ones, Skullwraiths an’ Giantclaws an’ Bricklebacks, they be bigger and more animal-like. The Black Deaths? I see too much of us in ‘em, an’ I’m ashamed to even admit tha’ as a Hunter…”

—————————

“We may ‘ave lost our ship an’ some of our men to the waves, but I swear on me life I ain’t lettin’ that beast get away. One day I’ll ’ave ‘er. One day she’ll be dead like tha’ rest o’ ‘er kind. Dead, like she deserves. Filthy creature. Makes me proud ta’ be a Hunter knowin’ our job is t’get rid of demons like ‘em.”

—————————

Chapter Text

Jacob leant on the railings of the upper deck, the sky above a brilliant blue; cloudless and warm. The Inevitable’s large body swam between the two large stone towers of Three Bridges, and past swathes of greenery lining the rocky shores.

Sharpe smirked, nudging Jacob playfully as the pair shared a pleased look at the prospect of all the gold they’d be receiving from their spoils out at sea. Cogs groaned as they slowly began to turn, a mossy, barnacle-ridden net lowered to allow them through to the inner walls of the vibrant seaside town. Bells rung out in the distance, heralding their swift arrival. 

“It’s the Inevitable! The Inevitable’s back!” A boy gasped, giddy with excitement, beckoning his friends as schoolchildren crowded to the now open window. They pointed towards the massive ship, faces alight with awe. “Bet she’s got a belly full of bones!”

Seagulls squawked above as townspeople took a moment to look out across the harbour, witnessing the brilliant crimson sails flutter in the wind as if they were mimicking the waves beneath. The white birds circled, a couple landing on nearby posts or cobbled walls, tucking their wings into their plump bodies. 

Fenn hauled one of the mooring ropes over the side, quickly snatched up by a bearded deckhand. He diligently looped it around a metal post on the dock to anchor the ship, double checking the knot before nodding. Maisie’s eyes widened as she saw the Inevitable there, in all its hunting glory, and began to push her way through the growing crowd, managing to clamber up onto a barrel to gain a better viewpoint over a steadily growing sea of townsfolk.

“It’s good ta’ be ‘ome at last, buh’ it will be a short stay, I’m afraid. Cap’n Crow will visit tha’ King an’ Queen at firs’ ligh’.” Sarah said, addressing the crowd as she adjusted one of the cuffs on her navy coat.

“And when tha’ ship is ready, we’ll be off ta’ kill a monsta!” She yelled with vigour, clasping her gloved hand into a fist. Maisie watched with childlike wonder, determination now painted across her youthful features as she leapt off the barrel, now squeezing her way through the crowd to get closer. The crowd cheered, their love for the Hunters evident with the passion in their voices.  

“We’re goin’ afta’ tha’ Red Bluster! So if this be our las’ visih’ ta’ Three Bridges, I expect some righ’ proper debauchery!” Old Nick brandished his own fist in the air, grinning cheekily as he clung to the rigging. An uproar of support and agreement ensued.  

Maisie let out a huff of air from her nose, continuing to weave her way deeper into the crowd like a seal through kelp. Sarah began her descent down the grooved wooden plank, the crowd parting like a wave to let her through. “Go on then, make way for tha’ Hunters.” Maisie heard her say as she tried to squirm through walls of people to get a good look. “Ere we go, mates!” The dark-skinned woman chuckled at their compliance.

Two burly men began to carry the horn of the Brickleback off the ship, its scarred yet shiny surface glinting in the late afternoon light. Jacob laughed, gesturing back towards the assortment of prizes claimed from various sea beasts, “Tha’ Crown’ll pay well for them horns. So tha’ drinks are on us!” People cheered and clapped in response, as his voice rang out across the crowd once more, “No-one goes thirsty tonigh’, swabbies!” 

Another Hunter’s voice could be heard among the ruckus, leading the townsfolk on with a,  “Come on then!” Maisie smirked as she followed along, undetected within the mass of bodies. They passed a statue of a Hunter, spear in hand, vanquishing a scaled creature with sharp teeth and a long, snake-like body. Its mouth was open in retaliation, or perhaps protest, its body curled in coils in a weak attempt to protect itself. All was forgotten as the crowd approached a lively looking tavern, ‘The Old Lark’ written in gold swirly writing above a pair of lanterns swinging either side of the door. 

—————————

Captain Crow is our hero, 

He keeps the oceans clear. 

He stabs and shoots and kills and guts the
monsters that we fear.

He stabs and shoots and executes,

With cannon lance and spear.

Cuts off their horns, and no one mourns,

The monsters that we fear. 

So sing the Hunters praises whenever men draw breath,

For hunters live the greatest lives and die the greatest deaths! 

—————————

Jacob flung the door open, followed by a bustle of thirsty townsfolk and Hunters. He fished a handful of golden coins from his pocket, slamming the money down onto the counter. The faces of the King and Queen glimmered on the coins beneath the light of candles. Jolly musicians playing violins and lutes and flutes. Beer tankards were slammed onto the table in the dozens, white froth spilling over the edge like a rough day at sea. Many helped themselves to a mug,  interlocking arms and dancing in joyous celebration. Jacob snatched a beer from the counter, so close to taking a well-deserved sip before being whisked away by a brown haired woman with a frilly lace collar. Clapping and music echoing from inside where Maisie stood atop a discarded crate. She attempted to watch through the patterned, distorted glass windows. 

Jacob finally managed to plop himself down on one of the many benches in the tavern, grunting slightly as he shifted to get comfortable. A tankard sat beside him, and he brought it to his mouth, only to realise it was empty. He felt a pang of irritation and disappointment, sighing begrudgingly as the man made a move to fetch some more. That was interrupted quite quickly as Maisie burst through window, shoving it open and leaning on her folded arms. She beamed, barely able to contain her excitement at the fact she was meeting Holland in the flesh. 

“Hello!” She blurted out, eyes sparkling. Jacob paused to look back, a little caught off guard by the sudden arrival of a child, of all things. He wondered briefly about where her parents might be.

“Hello?” The blond replied in a slightly confused and somewhat bemused manner. Of all the things he had been planning on doing that night, being introduced to a seemingly random kid was not on his roster.  

“Me name’s Maisie. Maisie Brumble.” The girl grinned as she held out her hand for him to shake, her curly hair bouncing with the sudden movement. 

“Well, uh, it’s a pleasure ta’ meet you.” He shook her hand once in return, before attempting to leave to find a non-empty tankard of beer. He figured she was simply just messing about, as kids do. Perhaps getting into trouble whilst her parents were busy chatting to someone outside.  He was surprised when she continued speaking, apparently wanting to strike up an actual conversation. Again, not what he had planned today. 

“An’ you’re Jacob Holland, who once killed four o’ them beasts in tha’ span o’ two days. Is it true you done that? Four, in two days?” Maisie interrogated him with passion, raising a brow and shimmying forward slightly, as if she were as eager to talk to him as she was to get inside the building itself. 

“Don’t believe everythin’ ya hear, lass,” Jacob mused as he leant an arm against his knee, “Four, in two days?” He scoffed, pretending to think about the prospect as he looked off into the distance, “It was five.” 

And with that, the man winked and left to get some beer. 

“I heard—“ Maisie’s face twisted in annoyance at being left alone, proceeding to clamber through the open window and scramble noisily across the wooden table. She couldn’t care less about knocking off the same tankard in the process as she ran after him. Leaving behind a mark was the way of the Hunters, you see. Though… perhaps not in this regard. There were always a little more spines and teeth involved.  

“I heard there was a time them beasts used to come righ’ up ta’ shore, pluck a lady right ouh’ of ‘er veggie patch—“ She mimicked the very same plucking motion, as if she were the beast wreaking havoc on coastal shores, “An’ swallow her up!” 
Maisie jumped to make her way in front of him, blocking his way so that he had no choice but to listen to her. The girl loved attention, and would not miss the opportunity to gain that of a famous Hunter’s. This was practically a dream come true. 

“But not no more. And it’s ‘cos of tha’ Hunters. There’s not a nobler profession, I says”. Jacob was intrigued now, deciding to stick around a little longer to humour this ‘Maisie Brumble’.  He shifted his posture and crossed his arms, watching Maisie’s hand wind around her bag strap. A nervous tick. 

“I come from a long line of Hunters meself.” The girl stated, lifting her chin in an attempt to appear more confident. 
“Tha’ so?” The man questioned with a cocked brow and a subtle smirk. So perhaps there was a reason she’d sought him out. 

“Aye. Me parents were lancers. They served on tha’ Monarch.” She mimicked him in crossing her arms. 

“Tha’ Monarch—“ Jacob’s expression became stony and pitiful for her. He knew what that meant… but a part of him wanted her to confirm it. Unless he had the wrong ship in mind. But everyone knew; the Monarch had been one of the most infamous sunken ships this side of the sea. A tragedy that had ended painfully for both human and monster. To think this poor girl had been orphaned made his chest twist in an uncomfortable way.  “So, they’re…” 

“Aye. Tha’s jus’ tha’ way for a Hunter, ain’t it? Ya’ live a great life, and die a great death.” Maisie confirmed, placing her little hand on her bag strap again. Her dark brows furrowed, trying to push the feelings she’d tried hard to bury that came with the memory. She couldn’t show how much it affected her, even though she knew it was only natural. But she’d made peace with the fact her parents weren’t returning… she had only herself, and maybe that was enough. 

He frowned, looking conflicted and pensive, before nodding for her to follow, “Huh. Come on.” He muttered, turning to approach the bar, glancing back to watch Maisie follow along after with growing excitement. This could be her chance to finally get on the Inevitable, and make a name for herself! Continue her parents legacy. Finally make them proud. 

Jacob gestured to the person behind the bar for another beer, sitting himself down across from Maisie. A lone candle sat on the counter beside the girl, orange flame flickering as wax slowly pooled in the melted centre. “So, uh, who’s lookin, after ya, then?” 

“I’m stayin’ at a children’s ‘ome in Guelston up tha’ way. ‘Cept I ain’t stayin’ exactly.” She began to lean in, as if her next words would be part of some elaborate secret, “I’m on tha’ run, ya’ see.” 
Jacob slowly raised the tankard to his lips, concerned and curious. 

“An’ I ain’t goin’ back.” 

He raised the tankard further, taking a small and slow sip as a hint of underlying suspicion began to creep up within.  

“Cos I’m joining ya crew.” She revealed with equal determination, confidence, and finality. She wasn't going to back down, that much was evidently clear. 

The man spluttered and spat out a mouthful of frothy beer, coughing to himself as he quickly regained his composure. Chuckling, he said, “Oh, no, you ain’t. A Huntin’ ship ain’t no place for a kid.” Jacob insisted with wide eyes,  placing down the tankard to emphasise his point. Her, joining their crew? Pigs would fly before that happened. Or maybe sea beasts would start leaving them alone. Two things he was certain would not happen, not in his lifetime at least. 

“But you joined tha’ ship when you were me age, and look at ya’ now.” Maisie gestured to him as Jacob wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. “You’re a weapon agains’ nature's darkes’ design. It says so on page ninety two.” She protested, flipping through the pages of her book after getting it out of her little brown satchel. She huffed as she lifted it to show him the page, depicting him vanquishing a giant purple squid-like beast. 

He took the book, glancing over the page with a frown. 

“Look kid, I’m clever with a spear, buh’ I’ve been lucky more than once.” He promptly shut the red book with one hand and placed it down on the counter. “There’s no guarantee you’re makin’ it ta’ page ninety two. Trust me.” He warned, sliding the book back to her over the wooden surface beneath. 

Maisie glared up at him defiantly, a bubble of anger simmering beneath. This hadn’t gone to plan, and she wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer. The blond raised a brow and nodded to the door, “Now you should run along.” 

“Righ’ then.” She decided, lifting her chin as she turned to the side on her stool, “I’ll talk to Captain Crow. That’s a man with real authority.” She said haughtily, and tucked the book back into her little satchel, kicking herself off her chair and making a move to leave. 

The girl headed over to a man opposite her, whom she assumed was a member of the Inevitable crew. She asked, “Do ya’ know where I migh’ find Cap’n Crow?” 

“Ey! I— I ‘ave authority. All righ’?” Jacob interjected as he quickly moved to stand beside her. Who did this girl think she was? He couldn’t deny that she had a spark to her, not to mention a plentiful helping of sass.

“You ain’t Cap’n, are ya?” Maisie countered, tilting her head to glance up at the Hunter.  

“Uh, no, buh’ I am… Captain Material.” He smirked with a cocked brow, prompting the young girl to burst into a fit of giggles. Jacob placed his hands on hips, intent on both making a statement and preventing her from causing any further mischief by attempting to get aboard that ship.

“Captain Material?” She laughed, biting her lip as she cleared her throat, regaining her composure. “Sorry. It just sounds funny.” Maisie smiled, swishing side to side softly on her heels. 

“I mean— I will be Cap’n. Someday.” He added with a dip to his brows. 

“Well I inten’ ta’ get on tha’ ship. So, if ya’ don’t mind… I’ll take it up with Cap’n Now? Not Cap’n Someday.” She retorted with a cheeky grin. Jacob took a moment to take in her words, shaking his head at the gall of this girl. He glanced back towards her with a mixture of bemused humour and awe, and perhaps a little respect. 

The door flung open in an instant, its hinges creaking with the force. Maisie now under his arm, squirming and flailing about. “Hey! Put me down, leh’ me go!” She protested, trying to push herself away from him to no avail. “Monsta’ Hunters are supposed ta’ be ‘eroes!” 

“An’ ‘ere’s me savin’ you.” The blond responded as he approached Rosie, her chesnut hair tied into a low bun, covered by her old straw hat. Freckles dotted her cheeks like flecks of sun through the trees, sat at the front of her carriage with the reins lazily held in her tanned hands. A toothpick poked out from between her lips, eyes flicking to the pair as they came to stop in-front of her. 

“Evenin’, Rosie. You go through Guelston?” He questioned, placing a large, calloused hand on his belt-clad hip. The little troublemaker continued to struggle in his tight grasp, letting out a high-pitched whine. 

“Aye.” The woman nodded slowly, the corners of her mouth lifting in amusement. Perhaps he was taking his hand in babysitting. 

“Great. Let ‘er out there, an’ not before.” He flicked her a coin from his pocket, and she caught it with her free hand with ease. “If that’s not too much trouble.” Always the gentleman, it seemed.

“Aye.” She nodded once more. Perhaps a runaway orphan he was doing a noble service in returning. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d heard of a particular escapee from Guelston up the way. It seemed the girl was notorious for it. Unable to stay put.

“Ey!” Maisie piped up as she was promptly plopped down onto the pinewood floor of the carriage. Jacob pushed the door until he heard the telltale click of the lock. The child made a move to stand, her hands hitting the frame just as the door shut. She let out a noise of frustration, squinting at him as she snapped, “This is kidnapping!” 

“No, love. It’s tha’ opposite o’ kidnappin’.” He reminded her, his hazel eyes glinting with a flicker of the same mischief she was so familiar with. He watched her through the small, diamond-shaped window in the back of the carriage, before lifting his fingers to his mouth and whistling sharply. One light crack of the reins and a disgruntled snort later, both the horse and the carriage kicked into motion as the pair trundled off. Jacob chuckled to himself with mirth, saluting her as Maisie glared daggers back at him through the tiny sheet of glass separating the two. 

The man made his way back inside, taking a moment to savour the warmth of The Old Lark. He, at last, managed to pour himself a full tankard of well-deserved beer sat down beside Sarah. 

“New frien’, Jacob?” The older woman asked inquisitively. 

“Ah, jus’ some kid.” 

“Urgh. ‘Orrible things, children.” She groaned, shaking her head at the mere mention of them. 

“You can say tha’ again.” He mused. The two ‘cheers’d as they saw the carriage roll away through the open window of the tavern. 

—————————

Shae felt the saltwater seep into the rock below her, as if it were drinking hungrily from what little moisture it received so far up from the surface of the water lapping at its base. Barnacles and seaweed dotted the grey mass she sat atop, still somewhat soaked from having recently climbed out from beneath the waves. 
She’d been itching to sink another ship as of late. She’d sunk two in the past week, but it almost felt addictive. To see the fear in the eyes of each fateful crew members eyes, to smell their terror as they realised they were taking on more water than they could bail out. Their dread as they looked up to see the sails shredded, the ropes torn, and no hope of getting back to shore without an attempt at swimming. 

She didn’t kill them. She considered herself above that. But what happened past the hull beginning to dip dangerously forward, practically embracing the waves, wasn’t her problem. She knew they knew how to swim… most of them, anyway. 

A brown crab scuttled up the side of the stone face near her tail. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing it try and tuck itself beneath her fins, seeking shelter and shade. Her eyes, like clear coastal waters, held no mercy as her pupils narrowed to slits. 

Her hand dove to snatch it up with ease, handling the thing with a crushing grip. It writhed, its pointed legs spasming erratically as it lashed out with its claws in several directions. 

She envisioned the crab like the human race. Able bodied hunters, able to traverse both land and sea. But they were weak, if you knew how to take them down. Cocky, because of the shells they possessed, believing they could face no harm. Claws like weapons, pinching and pulling and so easy to rip from their destructive little fingers. But determined, the way it continued to try and escape her grasp. 
She sneered, revealing two rows of sharpened teeth, accented by bright pink gums. Digging her razor-like claws into the softer underbelly with a fierce crunch, the crustacean went still. Limp in her hands. Food. 

As she tore away its defences and devoured the meat inside, she couldn’t help but wonder if humans ever thought twice about the creatures they killed, or if slaughter was merely a sport to them. Something to entertain their hunger for things their stomach never craved, but a deeper part of themselves, one that took pleasure in displaying the remains of beasts on the walls or ceilings of places they called ‘home’. 

Chapter Text

Venturing directly into human territory was a death sentence. Being out of your element, surrounded by creatures that wouldn’t waste a second in putting a harpoon or bullet through your skin… she couldn’t be careless. Enough blood had been spilt, enough of her species slaughtered. She needed something foolproof, a plan to get her closer to those hairless monsters than ever before. 

Having been lacking on the amount of ships sunk as of late, she felt as if they were getting harder to find. The Hunting ships she’d sunk in the past had either been pure luck to come across, or she’d tracked them down through the idle conversation of townsfolk. As long as she had a direction and an idea of the closest islands to their voyage, she’d never failed in finding her prey. And she needed information on where to find a certain Captain Nicklebones. A man she’d heard praises of, sober and drunken, and a man she sought to put in his place.

And his ship she so desperately wanted to see barely afloat.

Clothes. She needed clothes. A disguise to mask her true self, something that would cover her scaled body so well that she could blend into the crowd. 

Shae was agile, quicker than a whip. She’d stolen from sailors and Hunters alike, dockworkers and shop-owners, ordinary strangers galore. If they didn’t keep an eye on their belongings, then she felt she was more than welcome to claim them for herself; it was how she’d managed to survive for so long when she was but a pup. 

She remembered how her stubby fingers would slip the lone crab or fish into the water with her, food left forgotten, undetected and unnoticed as she nicked and thieved and took whatever she needed. She distanced herself from human settlements when she wasn’t hungry, but couldn’t help her fascination with their strange ways. 

She’d find trinkets, swept away into bays or harbours, rusted or covered in seagrass. Turning them over in her hands, curious but apprehensive. It had been years since she’d had to learn and adapt to survival on her own, young and weak as repressed agony morphed into an ugly anger. 

Watching her mother, seeing her thrashing so hard saltwater was kicked up in a frenzied spray, baring pearly teeth and flashing fins in an intimidating display. Yet nothing had worked to scare them, as she watched her lifeless form hang limp in the arms of a Hunter, another gripping her decapitated head crudely by the fin running down the middle. Like some kind of prize, a trophy to be sold and stuffed and put on display in some noble’s household. 

Shae watched, the way her mother had snarled and sliced at the arms of her captors, only for her protests of defensive fear to muffle into choked gurgles. Maroon bubbles of spit and blood pooling from her jaws as her seagreen eyes went shiny and blank. 

Her body smacked into the water as it was chucked overboard from above, seeing them discard her own mother as if she were merely a rotten fish. She remembered the look she’d shared with the Hunter who’d done it, eyes wide with a mixture of emotions so terrible she thought she’d vomit all over the rocks she’d hid behind. She remembered how she’d seen a flicker of surprise, perhaps even regret, as the man simply watched her stumble into the water and swim frantically towards where the black remains floated half-submerged on the darkening waves. 

Choking on her own spit, coughing and pawing at the deceased Black Death’s shoulder, shaking her mother relentlessly as she whined and tasted her own tears. They dribbled down her cheeks, unforgiving and hot. 

Bone jutted out from the jagged wound, pink and red flesh pumping fresh blood into the ocean. Some parts looked so dark they appeared purple, torn skin like the ragged fabric she’d seen on ripped sails from passing ships. Her body eventually sunk below the waves, large tail weighing her down like an anchor. 

Shae had stayed with the body for days, melting into weeks, until she’d finally been forced to leave to find more food than the odd crab that scuttled past to feed on her mothers carcass. She would’ve stayed longer, but she knew that she had to move on. 

She’d lingered around human civilization until she was grown enough to hunt by herself in the open ocean. Hidden beneath docks or crates, she’d picked up noises that came from the people living there. Noises soon turned into words she could understand, as she began to recognise what words became associated with objects or animals, or even other humans. Her natural ability to mimic sounds made the verbal component a breeze, whispering things to herself or mumbling under her breath. Eventually she became fluent, the same twang to her words like the humans she’d learnt from. 

It had evolved steadily from there. Once a mere babe in the docks, to a fearsome enemy to the Hunters and Crown alike. Risen from the depths to enact revenge on those who slaughtered her kind. 

And now, she needed clothes. 

—————————

Shae breached the surface, turquoise eyes locked on a cobblestone house situated halfway up the craggy cliffside. A quaint coastal town, Dewbrook, nestled into chalk rocks and rolling grass hills. Sheep dotted the fields, separated by lines of fences. A long clothesline hung from between the edge of the grey, tiled roof and a wooden pole. The clothes swayed gently, each pegged with a little clip. Her target wasn’t the problem, it was getting there that was. 

She began her ascent, her wet hands and feet making dark prints on the rocks as she scaled up the side. A small, barely visible dirt pathway wound upwards to the stone wall separating her from where she needed to get to. Clumps of dirt became dislodged as she haphazardly slung herself towards the clothesline, nearly slipping on a soft, sloped section of grass. 

Her claws latched onto the top of the wall as she hauled herself over, landing with the precision of the small, furry creatures she often saw splayed out on the edges of piers and docks; cats, the humans called them. She rather liked cats. 

The Black Death wasted no time in plucking the clothes from the line, flinging them over her arm one by one. A scarf the colour of a juicy crab, a shawl like the driftwood she so frequently saw washing ashore… an array of washed out colours from years of being dried in the sun. The moisture that still clung to her scaled skin began to dampen her haul, and she figured she too needed to find a space to dry off as well. She couldn’t have herself masquerading as someone who appeared to have just fallen face-first into the ocean. Humans kept themselves dry; and she would do the same. 

—————————

Idle chatter filled the warmth of the tavern, a cosy and humble building nestled between a fishmonger and a simple shoe shop. It was small, but popular within Dewbrook. The town wasn’t one possessing Hunters by any means, earning most of its coin by the fishes captured out at sea and the wool sold from the sheep that grazed the fields. It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, but it was all the people of the town needed. A close-knit community often visited by weary sailors and travellers alike. 

Lanterns cast an inviting glow on the counters and tables, people and tankards of beer or ale. The atmosphere was one of a successful fishing trip, many sailors celebrating the massive catch at the ‘Horizon Light’. The air smelt lightly of cinnamon and salt, conversations jovial as the sun began to sink beneath the black waves outside. 

A woman with light hair, tied neatly in a plait, reached across the counter to refill her mug. Twisting the wooden notch as the golden liquid frothed into the tankard, she passed a single coin across to the man behind the counter, nodding once as she moved to sit back down at her table. A long day it had been, one full of gutting fish and chucking the remains into the waters off the docks. She enjoyed watching the seagulls squabble over the meaty chunks. 

The woman’s lips barely touched the rim before the front door to the tavern creaked open loudly. Conversation in the room instantly died down, heads turning and people glancing up from behind their drinks to get a glimpse of the foreboding figure who’d stepped foot into the Horizon Light. 

Covered head to toe in fabric; large, saggy amber pants coupled with a cream coloured shirt. It hung around the sleeves, the ruffled collar covered by a thick shawl. Shoes that looked like they’d been worn down to the bone, scuffed and dotted with flecks of mud. Dark gloves, a maroon scarf wrapped around the waist like a sash, and a head-wrapping that barely showed the eyes beneath. The most striking feature was the lengthy makeshift cape that sprawled down the stranger’s back, a curious yet barely noticeable lump beneath. Two leather bags were tied either side of their hips, seemingly stuffed with mysterious and jingly contents. Each slow step they took, the sound of something clinking together echoed repeatedly.

The patrons of the tavern gave the newcomer wary looks. They’d never seen this person before, and certainly not someone who was supposedly so intent on covering up their identity. Chairs grunted as others snuck a glance, a few hushed whispers drifting up from the corners of the building. As much as the small town accepted and welcomed travellers, the arrival of the stranger put some on the edge of their seats, both metaphorically and literally. 

The man behind the counter, a brown-skinned, bearded bloke by the name of Vincent, pushed his weather-beaten cap up his forehead a tad. His hands stilled on wiping the droplets off a freshly washed tankard, swallowing thickly as the stranger put their hand down onto the wood before him. 

“Jim Nicklebones.” They croaked gruffly, a couple of inches shorter than Vincent himself. He wasn’t too intimidated, merely disconcerted by their presence. He wasn’t able to see much through the small sliver that showed him a momentary sight of their eyes, like the ocean itself; unnaturally piercing, filling him with an uncomfortable feeling of both alienation and connection. Like something long buried had unearthed itself and was being presented to him in its rawest form. 

Vincent blinked, snapping out of his trance, “J-Jim Nicklebones? Wha’ business could ya’ ‘ave with ‘im?” 

The stranger’s eyes narrowed, and he almost swore he saw their pupils turn to slits like a cat. They clenched their fist on the counter, ignoring the baited breaths and odd looks they were receiving. “Where?” 

Now the man was even more confused. “Where? You… you wanna know where ‘e is? Ya’ think I’d ‘ave a clue as ta’ where–” 

They slammed their fist onto the counter, causing Vincent to flinch backwards. They locked eyes, and he felt his stomach drop, like some small animal had crawled down his throat and curled itself up in his belly, now shivering in fear. 

He watched as they reached down into one of the leather bags on their hip, and placed a rather expensive looking pearl necklace in-front of him. It shone beneath the lantern light, his brows raising past his hairline. Was he being bribed for information? He had to admit, a necklace like that he would sell for some serious coin. To say he wasn’t tempted would be a blatant lie, but he didn’t want to just sell out an old friend like that. He had no idea what the motives of this person could be, and if they meant harm to Nicklebones. 

Vincent’s eyes flickered back to meet theirs, and exhaled shortly through his nose. He knew where his loyalties lay, and wasn’t the type to recklessly, potentially endanger a comrade. He shook his head, placing both hands on the counter. 

“I ain’t acceptin’ tha’. He shook his head, and pushed the necklace back towards the fabric-clad figure. “Look, if ya’ wan’ a drink, then coin is all we take. Ain’t no pretty jewellery, and specially not fo’ informashun. ‘Ere in Dewbrook, we like t’keep things calm, ye ‘ear? Ya’ won’t find no trouble ‘ere, and not no Jim Nicklebones. ‘E’s out huntin’ them beasts god knows where.” 

Shae glared at the man before her, feeling constricted in human clothes. The shoes cramped her toes together painfully, and she wasn’t used to anything besides water against her scales. Having to tie down her fins felt akin to bending her fingers backwards to see how far they’d be able to hold up. And having been refused, even despite offering something she knew humans loved, made her temper bubble like boiling water. 

She grunted in response, snatching the necklace back and stuffing it into the bag. She gave the man one last dirty look, before turning and storming out of the tavern, slamming the door behind her as she left. Vincent watched her leave, a notch set firmly in his brows, and a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. He felt he’d done right to deny that person what they sought, seeing how aggressively they’d reacted to being turned down. He had a feeling they weren’t wanting Nicklebones just for a good old chat and to catch up. He could sense something more sinister beneath, leaning to the side slightly to get a final glimpse of the figure before they disappeared into the distant fog. 

The tavern was silent for a few moments more after witnessing the whole ordeal, before one of the women sitting to the side of the bar broke the silence.

“Wonder wha’ Nicklebones’s got ‘imself into ta’ ‘ave such an admirer.” She mumbled, and Vincent shook his head, running a hand down his face. 

“I jus’ ‘ope nothin’ bad ‘appens t’im.” He murmured, looking down to the tankard that sat beside him, shiny and freshly cleaned. 

—————————

Shae ditched the clothes the first chance she got. She hated being near humans, hated how their dens smelt, how bright everything needed to be. Weak creatures, hairless and plump and so easy to sink her claws into. Supple flesh, blunt teeth, soft skin. But she knew she wasn’t a mindless killer, and it would stay that way. She needed something to distance herself from them at least, something to prove to herself that she was better than them, promising that she’d never kill anything if it weren’t for food. It helped her get to sleep at night. 

Learning their language, becoming accustomed to tastes of their foods, feeling clothes against her body… sometimes she wondered if she was still one of her own, or more human than beast. Loneliness was something that simply had come naturally, and she’d learnt to live with it. Perhaps it was solitude… perhaps she wished to be around her kind, despite the lack of. It had always been just her against the world; just simple old Shae. 

She let out a hiss of frustration, picking up a nearby rock on the slowly depleting shoreline and lobbing it into the ocean. The tide was coming in, and she knew that she was going to have to hunt down Jim Nicklebones herself. She knew how dangerous it was, for a creature of her size and stature to be taking on full crews of Hunters one after the other. She hadn’t escaped unscathed, and the many pink slashes and scrapes across her body painted that picture clearly. But in a way, she found herself proud of her scars; they told a story, one of ferocity and rebellion. And she wasn’t the type to back out from a good fight. 

Glancing down, she wiggled her toes in the sand. She’d found they were more spread out than the humans she’d seen, a thick film of dark webbing between each appendage. Settling herself down, she lifted her hand to inspect. 

The same webbing, fingers more spread out like before. For a creature so seemingly alien to humans, she found herself unable to deny the similarities between her species and theirs. She, the unholy spawn of the night and sea itself. It made her wonder what nature had seen in this form, this way of being. Perhaps it was a cruel trick, a melancholy reminder of the price of being different. 

But she needn’t waste any more time. Shae stood and waded into the water, taking one last withering glimpse of the Horizon Light in the rapidly approaching dark, before turning tail and diving beneath the waves. 

She’d have to find that Hunter herself. And Jim Nicklebones would have hell to pay for all the beasts he’d slaughtered. 

Chapter Text

Blazing sunlight shone above through the cracks in the leaves of oak trees, laughter echoing in the distance. Bright and jarring. Jacob awoke groggily with a strained groan, the carriage currently being led by Captain Crow trundling at a steady and comfortable pace through the woods. 

He and Sarah sat on a wooden bench lined with a beaten red leather cushion, Crow at the front with the reins held nonchalantly, enjoying the scenery. The Brickleback horn, and various others alike, were strapped tightly to the sides and back of the carriage, as well as on the trunk behind them. They rattled softly every time the wheels hit a stone or two. 

Jacob rubbed his face wearily, casting a half-asleep glance to the woman beside him, who remained still as a stone whilst resting, her hat shielding her face. The palace loomed in the distance, all golden spires shaped like shells, porcelain walls and shimmering turquoise roofs. The kingdom itself spread out its arms like that of a starfish, with settlements built into the water and cobblestone bridges to connect them. The palace, however, remained nestled in the centre, a beacon of wealth and prosperity, surrounded on every side by waves of greenery. Walls enveloped the civilisation, joining neighbouring land masses drenched in thick foliage. 

Townsfolk alike poked their heads out of their homes to get a glimpse at the carriage crossing the bridge to the palace gates, small market stalls lined either side of the walkway. Row boats passed beneath the cobblestone arches of the bridge, white smoke drifting from chimneys of houses dotting the canals. 

Approaching the entrance, lined with gold and adorned with spiral pillars, the roof seemed to stretch nearly twice as high above as the carriage itself. Jacob couldn’t help himself as his eyes traced the faint engravings of vines that snaked their way up the marble ceiling of the arch. 

“Captain Crow!” One man shouted. “It's full of Brickleback!” Another child called out. Several others skipped along the cobble path as they watched the Hunters disappear, each holding a piece of a wooden puppet depicting the Red Bluster. Above, the palace emblem stood proud, overlooking the scene like a guardian to its people. 

—————————

Golden double doors, smothered in green marble, pushed open as the Captain strode through, head high. Jacob appeared somewhat off-put by the visible wealth, Sarah maintaining indifference. The skeletal remains of the same sea-green beast they’d managed to conquer hung from the ceiling, suspended with its jaw open to show an array of serrated teeth. 

“Well, if it isn’t Captain Crow and his loyal mates.” The King welcomed, gesturing vaguely to their merry little group. He wore money like it was an accessory, proudly fit to his plump form; shiny fabrics, immaculately polished shoes and gold jewellery lining his cape - murex shells and clams dotted the collar. He possessed a head of luscious curly chestnut hair, a thin mustache and a small goatee. 

The Queen appeared even more regal yet, showing off an extravagant maroon hairstyle and a dress adorned with aquatic patterns. She owned a cape as equally spectacular as his, similar matter adorning the clasp around the hem. A tiara in the shape of coral rested against her magnificent hair, catching the light near-perfect.
“Yer Grace, as ya’ can see, tha’ oceans ‘ave offered abundant prey.” Crow announced, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest. A marble cart, gold-rimmed, was wheeled off to his left as it carried their spoils off elsewhere. 

“And I see you've taken a full-grown Brickleback.” The Queen raised her chin, a dainty hand elegantly settled in her lap. The pair of rulers sat on high plush thrones, deep green curtains smothered in the familiar silhouettes of shells draped from either side. 

“A specimen like that garners quite a bounty.” The woman mused, watching as two uniformed servants hauled the prize horn off; they were dressed formally, with porcelain uniforms and dark, high brimmed hats. She took a moment to survey their leave, before turning in an almost accusatory manner towards the Hunters. She reminded the group of a lioness in a way, proud but dangerous in her own right. 

“But there’s something I don’t see.” The Queen fixed them with a hard glare, her neatly plucked brows furrowed. The King smirked to himself, enjoying watching them being forced to squirm and sweat underneath this partner's gaze. “The horn of the Red Bluster.” 

Sarah’s own brow dipped in response, Crow clutching his hat tighter as he suppressed the rage bubbling up inside like freshly boiled water, and Jacob stopped himself mid-way through being about to indulge in a peach. The blond seemed somewhat irritated that she’d bring it up, given the bounty they’d provided her with. Was that not enough for her? He was beginning to be reminded of his distaste towards wealthy people in power. 

“Admiral Hornigold has reported a rumor…” She continued, gesturing warmly over to the man dressed rather sharply in a deep green and fiery gold uniform. He possessed plenty of shiny badges, pinned to his chest like indications of his superiority. The man wore a perpetually smug expression, brows raised and hair swooped neatly over to the right side of his face like a muddy wave. Or, at least, that’s what Jacob knew it looked like. He snapped himself out of some particularly insulting thoughts, even though they gave him ample pleasure in mentally degrading the pompous asshole. 

“Admiral ‘Ornigold…” The Hunters murmured in gritted unison. 

“That you spotted the Red Bluster, but abandoned your pursuit! Because of a certain… code.” The Queen explained scathingly. It seemed she had as much distaste for the customs of the people she employed to keep her oceans clear as the beasts they hunted themselves. 

“The royals don’t pay you to honour such codes. They pay you to kill monsters.” The Admiral explained as he began to descend each plushly-lined, carpeted step, one hand behind his back and the other held to the lapel. His sword gleamed in the light streaming in from the curtained windows. “How many more ships will be lost because you let the Bluster… slip away?” 

Crow glared daggers at him, enough to bring out a discreet sweat on the back of Hornigold’s neck. He wanted nothing more than to throttle him until his face turned the same blue as the sky above, perhaps even a lovely purple if he was able. But he’d save that for later. He felt almost sickly giddy in wondering how many times he could strike the man down with his cutlass. Maybe killing beasts wasn’t the only thing he took enjoyment in. 

—————————

Another set of wide, golden doors creaked open as the six made their way out onto the balcony, the floor a mix of marbled greens lined with gold, making a map of the land and seas. Porcelain pillars held the structure of the door from either side, like unwavering soldiers committed to their duty. Sarah shifted her step slightly, her eyes tracing what lay beneath her. 

“This was once a small kingdom with a big idea. To send Hunters out to repel the beasts from our shores, and usher in a new era of peace.” The King recounted as they ventured further outside, several guards in white uniforms flanking them left and right. 

“It’s been hundreds of years since the dark times, but as long as the Bluster lives, people will still look to the seas with fear.” The Queen reinforced with her eloquent yet unwavering tone, moving to stand alongside the King. 

“So today marks the beginning of a new era,” He mused smugly, tilting his head as his mahogany curls spilled down his shoulders. “The crown will no longer support the Hunters.” 

The Imperator rested in the bay, surrounded by towering marble walls and turquoise spires. Rimmed with gold in every place possible, made of the finest wood and most expensive materials, she sat proudly by herself as the ringing bell for the end of the Hunter’s time. Five masts, a large yet slender build, and the head of a golden serpent glittering elegantly against the figurehead. She truly was something to behold, one that would make an excellent painting. 

“She’s quite a sight, isn’t she?” Hornigold thought aloud, the question entirely rhetorical. Sharpe’s gaze splayed down in solemn disgust, Jacob looking as though he was wondering how they’ll manage to squeeze it out of the city gates, and Crow simply looked mildly unimpressed by the ship before him; especially with how tactically useless it was. “The Imperator is the most heavily-armed ship ever to set sail. The Royal Navy will push deep into the unknown world, and eradicate every sea beast in our path.”

“Not in tha’ thing,” The Captain interjected, scoffing slightly as he gestured to the ship while assessing its capability, “She rests too low, an’ them fixed cannons is useless.”  He turned to the man beside him slowly.

“And ‘er Cap’n… is an ass.” 

Hornigold gasped rather dramatically, his head snapping to meet Crow’s with offense written across his haughty features. “It’s time for you to leave, Captain!” He spat his last word like it were a foul taste in his mouth. “Your time is up.” 

“Admiral, ‘ave you ever seen one of them beasts tha’ wasn’ hangin’ from a ceiling?” He inquired, with a level of oozing condescension, stating more than questioning. “Don’t send yer soldiers ta’ die in a ship like tha’. It’s not built fer huntin’… and neither are you.” 

“I assure you, I am not afraid of those beasts.” The Admiral countered, stepping closer in an attempt to at least intimidate the Captain, somewhat, with his power and prowess. 

“Then yer a fool! And you’ll take a lot o’ good sailors down with ya’!” He snapped back, eyes ablaze and temper rising. The scar running down the side of his face and neck shimmered in the sunlight, and Hornigold briefly doubted his ability to actually conquer the oceans, even with the immense size of the Imperator to shield them. 

“General, see the Hunters out. We’re done with them.” The Queen ordered, and the General prowled forward, hand to her sword. She stood dressed in the same green as the Admiral and flanked by two guards equipped with sleek bayonets. The look in her eyes was one of slight hesitance, secretly less on-board with the prospect of the days of the Hunters being one and done.

“We Hunters ‘ave shed blood, while you lot ‘id behind walls, an’ drew lines on maps!” Crow fumed, jabbing an accusatory finger at them all with a fire in his eyes. “Yer cowards! The lot o’ ya!” 

“General! The Captain is to be placed under arrest, and the Inevitable decommissioned." She snarled back, her regal voice ringing out as Sarah’s fingers tightened on her pistol. The General began to draw her sword from its sheath, Crow reaching for his cutlass with fingers that itched to fight for what he’d spent nearly his entire life doing. He was a stubborn man, one that didn’t back down easy. Like a feisty stallion that refused to bend to break. 

“W-wait! Wait!” Jacob interrupted as he threw himself in-front of Crow and between the General, hands held in a placating manner so as to not anger either party. He nodded to the Captain, indicating that he intended to sort things out. Or at least try, given he wasn’t too keen on seeing their little visit to the palace end in bullet wounds and blood. 

“Uh, yer Grace.” He stammered for a moment, covering it with a nervous chuckle. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, only really used to giving his little speeches to his crewmates rather than to the bonafide ruler of the Kingdom he served. “The uh– Tha’ Cap’n is well-known for ‘is tempa’, but, his talents as a Hunter ‘ave served ya’ well.” 

The blond shuffled into a better spot for the Queen to get a good look at him. Neither her, or the King, look particularly impressed. In-fact, they rather wanted this to be over so they could have the Hunters abolished quicker. 

“He’s opened tha’ seas, a-an’ made yer empire tha’ envy of tha’ known world.” The royals shared a brief glance, before he continued regardless. “Now, I believe tha’ world still needs tha’ Hunters, so prove me wrong.” 

Admiral Hornigold cocked a bushy brow. 

“Give us, one more try for tha’ Bluster,” He said, gently moving the bayonet of one of the guards and slipping beneath it, “If we take it, you keep ya’ promise, an’ we continue our alliance. If tha’ Imperator takes tha’ Bluster… Well you can tear down tha’ Inevitable fo’ scrap. An’ tha’ days of tha’ Hunters will be over.” 

“Eitha’ way, you win.” Now, they seemed rather pleased with themselves at the prospect of a win-win situation entirely in their favour. The Queen’s lips curled into a grin, savouring the power she felt in that moment, like sharks circling around a dying animal floundering in the drink.

“I, for one, would relish the opportunity.” Hornigold smirked, and Crow’s eyes narrowed with barely-concealed hatred. 

“Then, we have a contest!” The King announced jovially, gesturing to the situation itself, as the group atop the balcony sheathed their weapons and put their hands by their sides.

He pointed towards the ocean in a lazy fashion. “Get set… go.” 

“We’ll take tha’ Bluster an’ bring it to yer doorstep. Tha’ days o’ Hunters are not ova’.” Crow reiterated with an almost threatening tone. He was fully intent on taking that devil to its grave, but not before parading its carcass around the Kingdom to show just how ferocious a Hunter’s fury could truly be. Like a starved animal, finally released into the wild to feed itself. The only possible outcome would be death, cold and hard. 

“Not nearly.” 

Chapter Text

The Inevitable surged through the water, sails tugging and flapping like gulls in the wind. The sky burned a rusty orange, dotted in between with purple clouds that seemed to stretch for miles. It was windy, as if nature itself was building up to the battle to come. 

Sarah, Jacob, and Crow stood around a deep mahogany table below deck, maps and pens and books sprawled across it. The Captain unplugged the same bottle of red liquid from earlier and poured himself a shot, downing it in a gritty gulp. Strong stuff. 

“When we reach tha’ Dregmorr, we’ll follow tha’ trenches.” He spoke, wiping his mouth with the back of his scarred hand. 

“We stay battle-ready, clear decks,
sharpen’ flints, an’ fresh cartridge.” The dark-skinned woman nodded, brandishing her knife as if to illustrate her point. They needed a cohesive plan if they were to take on one of the most infamous beasts to roam the seas.

“Tha’ Bluster’s ‘ide will be plenty thick. Best ta’ use long spears.” The blond agreed as his eyes trailed over a depiction of the creature on the map below. It wasn’t exactly like it, but sailors tended to have wild imaginations for things they’d barely even seen themselves. But at least the parchment used to make the maps were good quality. He liked the texture.

“Them archers won’t do any good, buh’ we’ve got plenty o’ carcass shot.” Sarah brought up. 

“We’ll ’it it with fire, then go fo’ a sleigh ride.” Crow instructed, scratching the stubble forming on his cheek and chin. “Tha’s tha’ way with somethin’ like this.” 

“We’re ready, Cap’n. We’ll take tha’ red demon.” Jacob reassured with utmost certainty. 

The ship began to prepare for the fight to come, Captain Crow surveying his crew from atop the upper deck. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. Men secured shiny, bronze-coloured canons to the railings, Jacob helping to lift them from a hatch in the wooden floorboards as they were pulled up with ropes. Others worked in groups to haul replacements to reinforce the masts. They didn’t want a repeat of the Brickleback, that was for sure. But this was a team effort, and all of them needed to contribute if they were to uphold the Hunter profession by capturing the devil that had plagued the seas for years. Elusive and destructive. Dangerous and unpredictable. 

The crew continued work long into the night, lanterns swinging softly as their orange glow simmered in the milky darkness. 

“For we are Hunters! An’ we will bring all o’ our skill, an’ all o’ our rage down upon this beast.” Crow addressed the crowd of Hunters the following afternoon, the sky now mottled with yellow clouds. He wielded a lance, thumping it against the deck every so often to reiterate his words. “An’ there will be justice!” 

As he lifted the weapon into the air, it drew forth a chorus of cheering and clapping from them. He took a moment for the lot to calm and quieten down, before his gaze flickered to a certain someone. 

“But tha’ will not be tha’ end o’ this great ship. For no one ‘as sailed beyond tha’ Dregmorr sea. No one knows wha’ dangers lurk in tha’ terrible unknown.” Meanwhile Sarah’s lips curled upwards slowly, knowing precisely what was to come. She’d known for a while, so this was only a reminder for her. 

She watched as he turned to his adopted son, his features warm. 

“Buh’ it will be this ship, unda’ Jacob Holland! Tha’ will pierce tha’ darkness!” 
The woman nudged his shoulder, watching his eyes widen in surprise. He felt the weight of his father’s words press down on him in that moment, not fully clocking what had just been said. And yet somehow, he felt lighter, too. Like he’d taken off a heavy pack and felt his muscles sigh in relief. He was somewhat caught up in his thoughts, but a playful jostle of his arm to the right snapped him out of it. He grinned in response, letting out an amused breath of air from his nostrils. 

“Let’s drink t’a successful ’unt, with many more ta’ come.” The Captain announced, watching as members of the crew lifted Jacob up on their arms in celebration, allowing him to feel the late afternoon sun on his face. He felt his stomach do a spin at the sudden motion, nervous laughter morphing into enjoyment.

Old Nick and the Surgeon began leading barrels of ale up onto a raised wooden platform, other crew members bringing out tankards on trays. They clattered and glimmered deliciously with anticipation.

The men hammered in the taps with a ‘thwunk’ each time they knocked through the caps, suddenly hearing a rather childish “Ow!” come from the last. The wizened old man stumbled back with a blatant look of  surprise, the other’s attention being caught as well. The soon-to-be-captain’s head whipped to the source of the sound, his lips pursing into a thin line. 

A woman by the name of Lilith decided to peer over the top of the barrel, her blue eyes like saucers. She quickly stepped aside as soon as Jacob approached the foot of the raised platform holding it, a hint of dread pooling in his stomach with a dash of irritation. He grunted as he gripped the barrel from both sides, manoeuvring it onto its top, before hauling the body away from the lid. 

Maisie was huddled into an uncomfortable shape, on her back, her hands gripping the backs of her thighs to conserve space. She looked guilty. Very guilty. Sarah’s eyebrows raised. 

“You stowed away?” Jacob asked her incredulously, tankard gripped in his hand, a look on his face not too far off from a rather disgruntled father. What was she thinking? He had half a mind to fetch the rowboat and take her back to shore himself. In fact, he was rather up for the idea if it didn’t include the fact they were so far out at sea by now. 

“I… stowed away.” She mumbled apologetically, giving him an awkward smile as she righted herself and stood up at last. Her hand fidgeted nervously with the hem of her dress, brushing some curls from her face. 

“You stowed away.” The man sighed deeply, running a hand down his face. Today, of all days. Of all days, today. Of course. Of bloody course. 

“Uh, I— yeah…” Was all she could muster, unable to come up with a viable excuse for her rather obvious actions. She wrung her satchel strap like it would save her from her bad decisions.  

“Well, we’re droppin’ ya’ off at tha’ nearest port. We’re goin’ afta’ tha’ Bluster. We can’t ‘ave a kid muckin’ about.” He scolded. Maisie opened her mouth to retaliate, but was quickly silenced as a voice cut through her unspoken words. 

“Wha’s this then?” Captain Crow questioned as he strode to meet them, the crew parting to let him through like a wave. Jacob cocked a brow, much akin to a rather smug child watching someone about to be told off. 

“Tha’ name’s Maisie Brumble,” The girl gasped with awe, feeling as if the ground had just come out from beneath her feet in the best way possible, “But you need no introduction.” 

“You’ve been swallowed ‘ole, shot through tha’ ’eart, an’ cut t’pieces. Buh’ tha’ worms won’t eat you, an’ hell won’t take you, so ‘ere you are!” She announced theatrically. Jacob watched her with a face that clearly showed he was both fed up to a degree and humoured by her antics. 

“The righ’, proud commanda’ of tha’ second-greatest Hunting ship what eva’ sailed!” Maisie fiddled with her bag strap again, yet a grin was painted across her features with excited warmth. 

“Second-greatest?” He leaned down, not unkindly, as he asked, “Which then, may I ask, is tha’ greatest?” 

Jacob’s expression faltered, conflicted, knowing what was to come. She’d told him, after all. He supposed that still didn’t make it any easier to hear again, given he’d begun to realise she reminded him a lot of himself. 

“I’m partial t‘tha’ Monarch, fo’ it’s tha’ ship me parent’s served on.” The crew’s faces mirrored each other's sympathy, some appearing solemn, including Captain Crow. He’d had friends that had served on the Monarch, and knew what it was like to loose people who’d you were close to. He felt that shared mourning, but buried it deep for now. He didn’t need that unraveling. 

“I see.” The man leant back to his full height. “Then they died ‘eroes, didn’t they?” 

“Aye.” She agreed with furrowed brows but a determined look. The same look when she was trying hard to hold back unnecessary emotion. Well, feelings she deemed unnecessary at a time like this. She’d just made it onto the Inevitable after all, and she hoped he wasn’t contemplating sending her back to shore. 

“I like this kid. She’s all vinegar.” 

“But, C-Captain—“ Jacob looked up with shock and irritation, wondering what on earth he was thinking to keep a child aboard a Hunting ship preparing for war with the ocean. 

“Sarah, be good enough ta’ take ‘er in, would ya’?” 

“Aye, Captain.” She sighed begrudgingly, earning a chorus of chuckles from the crew. It was clear she wasn’t too pleased to be assigned the role of babysitter in that moment, evidenced by the way her nose wrinkled slightly at the corners. 

The blond continued to have that lost look on his face as Maisie’s own lit up, and she grabbed a tankard with both hands to cheers him. The ale frothed over the rim, dribbling down the side. 

“Congratulations, Cap’n Someday.” He snapped out of it as soon as she made an attempt to follow after Sarah with the ale, quickly snagging the tankard from her, before watching as she trotted off like a happy little filly. 

Someone slapped him on the shoulder as the crew began to return to their previous roles, Maisie turning briefly to poke her tongue out at him through the crowd. He scoffed, unable to believe the cheekiness of this girl. She really was a handful, and a sassy one at that. 

—————————

Sharpe shoved open the door with a push, light streaming in to wash over the contents of the room. Cutlasses lined the wall, hung on a rack, and the walls were painted a faint mossy green. The door creaked shut, the woman making her way over to the old bunk bed, tearing off the blanket to reveal a surprisingly large array of weapons. Pistols and flintlocks and knives and various others Maisie couldn’t even begin to remember the name of. 

She clicked the safety notch on each of them, picking and choosing which ones to store on her person. Throwing an axe and mace into a worn wooden bullseye hung on the wall earned a thick swallow from the little girl still stood by the door. As if to comically parallel the feat, Sharpe then proceeded to gently fluff up the pillow and throw it onto the top bunk. 

“Sleep there.” 

“You’re… Sarah Sharpe.” Maisie whispered, before immediately scrabbling through her precious storybook. “They say no first mate is more loyal than—“ 

“Tha’s enuff. I’ve ‘eard your speeches, Miss.” She put an end to it quickly, peering down at her from her position next to the bed.

“My speeches kept me on this boat.” The girl replied simply, holding the book to her chest for a moment. 

“Yer on this boat ‘cause Cap’n Crow won’t stop t’put ya’ off it.” She chuckled softly as she produced a shiny-sheathed knife from her coat’s inner breast. It gleamed, inviting Maisie to take it like it was the very thing she’d been missing all these years. 

“The hunt is all,” Sarah reiterated, revealing a sliver of the metal blade like a warning. After a moment she handed her the knife, handle towards her, “So give ‘im yer absolute obedience.” 

Maisie took it with wonder, her eyes sparkling. She’d never been given her own knife before. 

“Or fall on tha’ yerrself ‘cause I’ll visit worse than death on ya’.” The girl took a moment to simply admire the woman and her words, before she managed to finally find herself. 

“You’re… amazin’.” She whispered. Sarah appeared surprised, in no way expecting a compliment to follow. After a pause she simply scoffed and readjusted her hat, lifting her head to look off into the distance, knowing the coming battle with the Red Bluster wasn’t going to be easy by any means.

—————————