Chapter Text
The ocean was calm. Not suspiciously calm, not in that characteristic way sailors claimed heralded a storm. Just calm. Vast, almost endless, and lazily stretching all the way to the horizon, where the deep blue of the water blended with the pale blue of the sky.
Crimson Night cut across its surface with an even, steady rhythm. The black sails caught the wind, their red trim moving gently against the morning sun. The ship’s hull creaked with every larger wave, ropes snapped softly against the masts, and somewhere high above them seagulls circled lazily, as if they too had nothing better to do today.
Claire Redfield stood at the helm, staring straight ahead. The wind blew her hair across her face, forcing her to brush the strands away every so often. One hand rested on the steering wheel, the other on the wooden edge of the helm station. She wore dark trousers, high boots, and a light leather jacket that, over time, had become infused with the smell of salt, gunpowder smoke, and the sea. She didn’t mind. In fact, she liked the smell.
It reminded her that she was exactly where she wanted to be. At sea. Far away from royal ports, taxes, officials, and people who thought a pirate had to look like a disgusting drunk with a parrot on their shoulder and a bottle of rum hanging from their belt.
Claire glanced over her shoulder. Chris was standing by the railing. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was watching the horizon with the expression of a man who was currently wondering whether the ocean might be planning something exceptionally stupid.
Claire knew that look. Chris could wear exactly the same expression whenever someone tried to convince him that he shouldn’t enter a cave full of armed bandits alone. Or whenever she herself did something that, in his opinion, was far too risky.
Which was roughly every other day.
“Stop looking like that.” she said.
Chris didn’t even turn around.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to predict what’s going to go wrong.”
“I’m not.”
Claire raised an eyebrow.
“Chris.”
“Fine. I am.”
She smiled to herself.
“And?”
“Nothing so far.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”
“That’s exactly what worries me.”
Claire let out a quiet snort.
“You’re impossible.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“Because it’s still true.”
Chris finally looked in her direction. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence until a barely noticeable smile appeared on his face.
“You’re handling her well.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t have to answer that quickly.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
“Then why did you start?”
Chris shook his head.
“Sometimes I really don’t know why I bother talking.”
“It runs in the family.”
Laughter came from the deck.
Jill Valentine was sitting on a crate of ropes near the mainmast, watching them with amusement.
“If you’ve finished this incredibly constructive conversation.” she said. “I’d like to remind you that we still have a few hours before we reach port.”
Chris turned toward her.
“Don’t start.”
“Me? I’m not starting anything.”
Jill adjusted the sleeves of her shirt and stood up. She was one of the few people aboard Crimson Night who could look calm even when everything around her had started burning.
Claire had often wondered whether Jill simply had nerves of steel, or whether she had merely gotten used to the fact that sooner or later every one of their expeditions ended in disaster. Probably both.
Jill walked over to the railing and rested her hands on it.
“If we maintain our course, we should reach Port Azure before sunset.”
“We should?” Chris repeated.
“Unless the wind changes.”
“So we shouldn’t.”
“Chris.”
“I’m just asking.”
Jill gave him a brief look.
“Yes. We should.”
“Better.”
Claire shook her head.
“You two really can turn the simplest conversation into an interrogation.”
“And you can turn every order into a suggestion.” Chris replied.
“Because orders are boring.”
“That’s exactly why you can’t be captain.”
Claire turned toward him.
“Excuse me?”
Chris raised his hands.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You did.”
“I said you can’t be captain.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re too impulsive.”
“I’m effective.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Depends on the situation.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Jill sighed.
“I’m starting to understand why other pirates say your crew is strange.”
Claire smiled broadly.
“Other pirates are jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Our ship.”
Jill looked at Crimson Night.
“That I can understand.”
The ship was one of the most valuable things they had ever possessed. It wasn’t the largest. It wasn’t the fastest either. But it was sturdy.
The dark wooden hull had been reinforced after numerous expeditions, and the red markings on the sails had become recognizable along many trade routes. Some merchants, upon seeing Crimson Night on the horizon, sped up. Others changed course. And others, the more experienced ones, simply stopped doing stupid things.
The ship did not belong to the royal fleet. It flew no official flag. Its crew also wasn’t made up of the kind of pirates that ballads portrayed as ruthless raiders who burned entire cities.
Claire and Chris had their own rules. They never attacked without reason. They never took hostages for ransom. And they certainly never attacked ships carrying civilians. But if someone tried to rob them, hurt one of their crew, or exploit their position for their own interests, Crimson Night could become a very unpleasant opponent.
Claire knew several ports where the sight of them caused nervous whispers. In a few others, they were welcomed almost like heroes. It all depended on whom you asked.
“Claire.”
Jill’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Course.”
Claire looked ahead.
“Still west.”
“Good.”
Jill returned to her duties. Claire watched her silently for a moment. Jill was one of those people who didn’t need many words. If something needed to be done, she simply did it. No complaining, no unnecessary dramatics. And that was exactly why Claire liked having her aboard.
Chris did too. Although he would never say it outright.
“Hey, Chris.”
“What?”
“Do you remember the first time we saw Port Azure?”
Chris frowned.
“Four years ago?”
“Three.”
“Four.”
“Three and a half.”
“That’s still closer to four.”
Claire smiled.
“Do you remember what you said then?”
Chris looked at her suspiciously.
“No.”
“You said: I’m never coming back to this place.”
“I had a reason.”
“We stole those maps.”
“They tried to rob us.”
“Before we robbed them.”
Chris was silent for a moment.
“Details.”
Jill looked at them from the other side of the deck.
“Were you two really that stupid back then?”
“We were younger.” Chris replied.
“We were braver.” Claire corrected.
“We were stupid.”
“That too.”
Jill shook her head.
“Good to know at least one of you can admit it.”
“I always can.” Claire said.
Chris snorted.
“Sure.”
Claire stuck her tongue out at him. Chris looked away. The sea remained calm. For the next hour, the journey passed in almost monotonous silence.
The sun climbed higher. The crew went about their duties. They checked the ropes, sails, and supplies. Someone on the lower deck was repairing a crate that had decided to fall apart into two pieces during the last storm. Someone else was trying to convince the cook that their supply of dried meat wasn’t completely inedible yet.
Claire had no intention of getting involved. At one point, she left the helm and handed the wheel to one of the sailors. She needed a moment’s break. She walked over to the railing and let the wind cool her face. The ocean stretched out on both sides of the ship. There was no land. No other ships. No birds. Just water.
Claire had always thought the sea was beautiful. But there was something unsettling about it too. It was too vast. A person could spend their entire life crossing its surface and still never discover even a fraction of what lay beneath it.
Maybe that was why stories of sunken cities, cursed islands, and treasures resting at the bottom of the ocean never stopped fascinating people.
Claire herself had believed in one such story for several years. A treasure. A legend so old that no one could point to its beginning. The stories differed in their details, but they all spoke of the same thing. A treasure hidden somewhere beyond the main routes. A place that could not be found with an ordinary map. A medallion that was said to point the way.
Claire and Chris had spent months searching for any evidence. They found nothing. No reliable maps. No entries in journals. No place that matched the descriptions. Eventually, they gave up.
Chris especially. Claire wasn’t sure she had ever truly stopped thinking about it. Maybe because she liked puzzles. Or maybe because she hated things left unanswered.
“Thinking about it again?”
Chris’s voice came from right beside her.
Claire looked at him.
“About what?”
“You know what.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“Fine.”
She sighed.
“A little.”
Chris leaned against the railing.
“It’s been a long time.”
“I know.”
“There’s no evidence.”
“I know.”
“And we’re not going to waste months again searching for something that probably doesn’t exist.”
Claire looked at him.
“What if it does exist?”
Chris was silent.
“Then we’ll find it.” he said at last.
Claire smiled.
“I knew it.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to search.”
“But you said we’ll find it.”
“Because I know you.”
“That’s true.”
Chris shook his head.
“You really are stubborn.”
“Thanks.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I’m taking it as one.”
Chris was about to answer when Jill appeared beside them.
“I have a question.”
Claire looked at her.
“What?”
“Can you two have one conversation without arguing?”
“Yes.” Chris answered.
“No.” Claire answered at the same time.
Jill closed her eyes for a second.
“Wonderful.”
“What happened?” Chris asked.
Jill pointed toward the western horizon.
“Nothing.”
Chris frowned.
“That doesn’t sound like a question.”
“Because I’m not finished.”
She pointed again.
“There’s something strange over there.”
Claire looked in the direction she indicated. At first, she saw nothing. Just the ocean. Waves. Light.
The shadow of clouds moving far across the water.
“What do you see?”
“I don’t know.”
Jill narrowed her eyes.
“Something is floating on the water.”
“A ship?” Chris asked.
“No.”
“A wreck?”
“I don’t think so.”
Claire took a few steps forward.
“Where?”
Jill pointed again.
“There. Between the waves.”
Claire looked more carefully. For several seconds, she still saw nothing. Then she spotted it. A small, dark point. Far too small to be a ship. And too motionless to be a piece of wood.
Claire felt something tighten in her stomach.
“Lower the sails.” Chris said.
One of the sailors immediately moved to carry out the order.
“Turn the wheel to port.” he added.
Claire was already at the helm.
“Got it.”
Crimson Night slowly began to change course.
Claire watched the dark point grow larger with every passing moment.
“It’s a person.” Jill said.
Chris didn’t answer. He was staring into the water. Claire was too. Now there was no doubt. Something was drifting among the waves. A person. They weren’t moving.
“Are they alive?” Chris asked.
Jill watched closely.
“I don’t know.”
Claire was already reaching for a rope.
“We’re about to find out.”
Chris grabbed her by the arm.
“Claire.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Don’t jump.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I know you.”
“This time, I really wasn’t going to.”
Jill took the rope.
“I’ll prepare the boat.”
Chris nodded.
“Good.”
Claire looked at the drifting figure again. The ship moved closer. The waves gently lifted the man and lowered him again, as if the ocean were trying to decide whether it wanted to keep him.
Claire felt an unpleasant shiver. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was his appearance. Maybe because finding a living person in the middle of the ocean was something almost absurd.
Or maybe it was the medallion.
She only noticed it when another wave exposed the man’s chest. A metal object hung around his neck. Old. Round. With a symbol engraved across its surface.
Claire froze. Chris noticed it too. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Jill looked at them questioningly.
“What?”
Claire didn’t answer. She only stared at the medallion. At the symbol she had seen before. Not once. Not twice. In engravings. In old books. On fragments of maps that she and Chris had searched through years ago.
Chris said quietly:
“That’s impossible.”
Claire tightened her grip on the rope. The man rose on another wave. The medallion flashed in the sunlight. And then Claire knew. The legend wasn’t a legend.
And their past had just returned to them from the depths of the ocean.