Chapter Text
Fighting in the desert was always a nightmare.
The heat alone today was extra brutal, enough to make Calypso want to collapse, with the sun glaring down on her and sweat gathering beneath her clothes no matter how little she moved. Too hot, too bright.
It was made worse by the sand, which shifted beneath her boots and refused to give her any solid footing. She had learned long ago that the desert was just as capable of wearing someone down as any battle could, and she was beginning to feel every bit of it. She huffed, glancing toward Player beside her. They didn't look much better. Physically, at least.
They were breathing heavily, clearly out of breath. A thin trail of sweat ran down their bruised face, mixing with the blood that had begun to seep from one of their wounds on their cheek, but their expression remained as blank as ever. It was unnerving how little they seemed to care about any of it.
How were they still standing? Calypso had always seen that expression on them. Back in the temple, when they were fighting those living hieroglyphs. And even back when their life was in peril. Back in…that battle at the end.
She looked away, pressing the memory back before it turned her into a sobbing mess again.
CRACK-
…!
The blur of a baseball bat struck Player across the side of the head for what had to be the third time, sending them stumbling through the sand. Their head snapped to the side from the impact, but when they finally regained their balance, they merely wiped the blood from their cheek and looked back at their opponent as if waiting their turn.
Calypso could never quite wrap her head around it. How could someone be hurt so badly and simply carry on as though nothing had happened to them?
It was kind of reminiscent of a game of chess. You simply watched your pieces disappear one by one and were expected to keep going and adapt as if you hadn't just lost something important.
What would Player even say if they witnessed her death? Calypso wasn't sure why she'd wondered. She knew the answer already.
She was one of those chess pieces on the board, for them to use as they neared their ultimate goal of collecting all seven of those damn swords.
Cap’n had always told her to prioritise her own safety over victory.
Her stomach twisted.
Cap’n…
She increased her grip around the handles of her cutlasses, vaguely aware of Player chucking their sword at their opponent and missing in the background.
This… was the sole reason she had agreed to fight with Player. Not out of forgiveness, nor out of the kindness of her own heart. She wasn't ready for that, not right now. And perhaps she never would be.
Player knew how to do something she desperately wanted to learn. They had managed to cut themselves off from their own emotions, freeing them of the mortal chains of emotion and empathy.
Calypso wanted that. She wanted to stop feeling the weight in her chest every time she thought about the temple, about the crew, about Captn’. She was angry, frustrated and most of all tired of her own weakness-
“C'mon!” The smug voice dragged her weary mind back to the present. Calypso blinked slightly, squinting her eyes to focus on the sight before her.
Ah, right.The battle.
The stranger stood several paces away, casually resting his baseball bat against his shoulder as though he hadn't just knocked Player into another dimension. His grin was gratingly wide, and judging by the way he bounced lightly on his feet, he seemed completely unbothered by the heat, despite the sweat glistening on his yellow skin.
He tilted his head, rolling the bat lazily between his hands and pointing it at Player, who was struggling to get back into their feet.
“That all you got, chump?”
Calypso stared at him, a flare of irritation burning in her chest. And then there was this guy. Genuinely what was the matter with him?
When Player first called her to help them, her first thought was that he didn't look like a particularly intimidating enemy. He was…improper, ridiculous and most of all he wasn’t taking anything seriously. But appearances deceive, it seems. He had been managing to push the two of them back this entire time with nothing but a wooden bat and a handful of baseballs. Alone.
Calypso couldn't even see the eyes behind those shades, which made it difficult to tell where he was looking. She found herself watching the slightest movements of his head instead, trying to predict which direction he would attack from next.
She subconsciously rubbed her throbbing shoulder, where one of the ridiculously speedy baseballs had struck. Hard. It was kind of numb already, making her movements feel more sluggish. What monstrous strength. Calypso wondered if he was even human. It sounds pretty ridiculous, but if she had to say…
She had a better time fighting the Ancients.
It was almost a relief that Player seemed to be his main opponent, so he’d mostly been targeting the adventurer instead of her.
She watched in concern as Player stumbled from another blow, clutching their head as their eyes seemingly spun in circles. They fumbled around in their satchel for some questionable food, apparently attempting to stuff it into their mouth. Calypso wasn't even sure it qualified as food. It was more of a mistake, really, an insult to creation itself.
They promptly keeled over and retched all over the red sand beneath them, coughing and hacking as their body tried to expel the sad excuse for sustenance. The stranger raised an eyebrow.
Calypso sighed, twin cutlasses lowering slightly. This battle had long fallen out of their favour. Whyd they even want to fight this guy again?
Player, who was usually so strong, was now reaching their physical limit. Anyone would be, after getting knocked on the head hard that many times. They’re probably not even thinking straight right now, which was likely why they were eating that nasty mess without a second thought.
Player was finished. That was that.
…
Their opponent seemed to have come to the same conclusion. He straightened, resting the baseball bat against his shoulder as he looked down at Player, who was now sprawled across the sand.
Whatever excitement he'd gotten from the fight seemed to have faded, now that there was no one left standing to challenge him. After a moment, he shrugged and turned away, apparently deciding that the battle was over.
“Hah! better luck next time, kid.”
Calypso stared after him. So this was it?
She'd spent the entire fight fighting alongside Player, and yet the stranger had barely seemed to register her presence. Every time he turned his attention toward them, Calypso was left to the side, forced to watch as he treated Player like the only opponent worth his time.
That familiar feeling settled heavily in her chest.
It was the same helplessness she'd felt back in the temple. The same horrible sensation of standing there while everything she cared about slipped further and further out of her reach, with nothing she could do to stop it.
Her fingers tightened around the handles of her cutlasses.
Not this again. Not here and not now.
Her tired eyes followed the stranger as he strolled a short distance away, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind him. That STUPID shit-eating grin. The dumb baseball bat he swung around like he was simply enjoying a game of sports on a nice sunny day.
Her irritation had been building throughout the entire fight, but now, with the adrenaline still rushing through her and the unbearable heat pressing down on her, it was becoming difficult to just get herself under control again like she usually did.
It shouldn't have bothered her this much. She knew she wasn't the strongest person in the room, and she had never needed to be.
In the past, Cap'n Trotter had often trusted her to handle her own fights, stepping in only when things got out of hand. She used to cry about it, but she truly appreciated that now, with how it had helped her gain more experience. And because of that trust, she'd learned how to fight.
Plus, her crew would often be there to back her up if needed. But now, looking at the stranger in front of her..
She didn't know exactly what history was between him and Player, but she wanted to wipe that cocky look clean off his face. Because just about everything was ticking her off right now.
If he wanted to walk away, then he could try to walk away.But Calypso wasn't going to let him decide when this dfight was over.
Her fists clenched harder around the handles of her cutlasses, before loosening after a moment. The twin swords slipped from her hands and dropped into the sand with two dull thuds.
The bat-wielding fool was just a few steps away. He was armed, taller than her, broader than her, and had just spent the last several minutes effortlessly knocking around someone who was supposed to be one of the strongest people she'd ever met.
And he was checking the dirt under his fingernails, back turned towards them.
…
Capt’n had always told her that emotion was the greatest downfall of someone in battle. Once you let your emotions control you, you were already at a disadvantage.
…
Sorry, Capt’n Trotter.
She had turned away before she could do something even stupider and walked over to Player, who was still half seeing stars. They were still sprawled out in the sand, looking completely out of it.
So even they could be hurt this badly.
Calypso reached into their satchel for anything that could help, and pulled out…an entire plate of perfectly hot fried rice?
Of course it was still hot. Of course it was. And the egg yolk was all fresh looking too. Player’s satchel seemed to be its own pocket dimension, carrying all sorts of random junk. She’d watched them pull out a large ice cream once, perfectly preserved in all its icy glory.
But Calypso didn't have the time or patience to question how Player's satchel managed to hold an entire plate of freshly prepared food, so she simply shoved it into their face.
"Go on.Eat."
Player blinked up at her, shading their eyes from the sunlight with one hand and taking the nasi goreng from her with uncertainty. They just stared down at the dish as though they were trying to remember what they were supposed to do with it.
Then they dug in, practically inhaling the dish like a vacuum cleaner. shovelling forkful after forkful of aromatic rice into their mouth until the plate was empty. Almost immediately, some of the dazed look faded from their eyes, and they seemed to straighten up a little.
Oh, they better get their ass up and fight. She wasn't stupid. If they were going to bring this fool down, they were going to need both of them. Calypso straightened to her feet.
But first, maybe she needed to buy some time for Player to recover.
She wasn't really sure what she was thinking (Bad news!!). And as of this moment, she didn’t really care. Her body was plain tired, her head was still buzzing from all her internal thoughts.
Calypso turned towards the idiot with the bat, who hadn’t seemed to notice that Player was starting to recover again. She reached into Player's satchel again and pulled out the first item she could get her hands on.
An orange. Remarkably unremarkable. The size wasn't quite the same as the baseballs he'd been whacking around…but it would have to do.
Deep breath. She drew her arm back, planting her foot as firmly as she could into the sand,
and pitched it with
every
bit
of anger she had in her body.
The citrus turned into a bright blur as it streaked towards its target. And it smacked him right on the back of his head before falling to the ground.
“Hey.” She called out as casually as she could manage, heart hammering inside her ribcage. “One of your opponents is still standing.”
The idiot with the bat turned, a surprised look crossing his face, as if he'd only just remembered that she was there.
Shit.
Did she do the right thing?
Biting back her embarrassment at only being acknowledged now, Calypso picked up her cutlasses again, twirling one briefly in her hand before pointing it in his direction, mimicking the way he'd lazily pointed his bat at Player earlier. “Is that all you've got, you buffoon? Are you really giving up when there's still someone left?”
For a couple solid seconds, though it did feel more like an infinity, there was silence. Calypso wondered if she maybe really did do too much.
But then he broke into another SHIT-EATING GRIN.
“Whoa. You're still goin’?”
Calypso's eye twitched in irritation. What in Telamon’s name was that supposed to mean?
He gave her a once over, apparently only now taking the time to properly notice her. His gaze briefly flicked toward the chipped blades in her hands before returning to her face.
“Can’t lie, I thought you were gonna run off with your buddy”
“My...buddy?”
“Yeah. The guy you were fighting with.”
Calypso raised a brow, crossing her arms (she was careful not to poke herself with her cutlasses, of course) in an attempt to look as tough as possible.
“They’re not-! I am perfectly capable of fighting my own battles!”
“Heh. Sure you are.”
That grin. That stupidfuckinggrin.
Was he trying to get a rise out of her? If he was, it wassss…kind of working.
Calypso tensed.
Sorry, Trotter. It seems she couldn't get a grip on herself after all.
Then Calypso went for the strike.
The stranger managed to block the first strike with a rage-inducing ease, bat deflecting the blade with a loud clang. He seemed delighted by the attack, which only further fueled her irritation.
Calypso followed with the second sword in a sharp thrust, then the first again, forcing him to step back through the sand. Her arms screamed with every swing, her shoulder protesting whenever she moved it too far, but she ignored it, choosing to bite down on her tongue instead.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Player slowly but surely stirring and- What were they doing?! Are they seriously meditating right now????
…
Whatever they were doing, Calypso had learned to trust Player when they did weird shit like this.
Just hold out a little longer, Calypso.
And so she persisted, forcing herself to focus on nothing but the fight in front of her and, more importantly, keeping herself from getting her head knocked silly. It was kind of nice, not having to think about anything else for once.
But the next time their weapons collided, her already-slightly-bent cutlass finally gave way with a sharp metallic crack.
What…?
Calypso looked down. The blade had bent at a 90 degree angle, completely out of shape.This bat can't be made of wood, that was for certain.
“Oh. For goodness' sake. ” She let it fall to the sand again, exhaling a deep breath.
The opponent tilted his head, scratching his chin not-very-thoughtfully. “Uh…My bad?” His comment went ignored, of course.
What would Capt’n do in this situation? She needed his guidance. His advice. His support. But who was she kidding..? Trotter would never again be there to give it to her. The thought stung. She stood still for a second, staring at the damaged blade.
Well, there was really nothing she could do about that at the current moment. With that, Calypso dropped her remaining cutlass to the sand too before it could sustain any further damage.
But even if Trotter wasn’t there for her in person, she prayed for his spirit to lend her strength for what comes next.
The idiot’s eyebrows lifted in confusion. “Hollup, you're-”
Calypso didn't even process what she'd done until after she'd done it. And she didn't know if the wetness on her face was tears or sweat.
She had punched him square in the face.
She winced immediately afterwards, shaking out her aching hand. Ouch. Maybe this was not such a good idea. Did she really just go ahead and do that…?
The idiot grunted, stumbling back a step, although it was more from surprise than the actual force of her blow. For a moment, the idiot just stood there, mouth agape. His fingers were raised to the spot where she'd hit him as if he was trying to process what had just happened.
Then he felt something warm and wet trickle down from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with his thumb and stared at the smear of red. Then, to Calypso's growing confusion and extreme exasperation, that rage-inducing expression slowly crept its way back onto his face.
She wasn't sure if the punch hurt her knuckles more or his face. Hopefully the latter. Because she hadn’t thought out what she’d do next. But still, even if it didn’t do much to damage him, it brought a certain satisfaction to her. It felt like she was channeling all of her anger and hatred in one single punch, if only for a moment.
“Hmph. That’s much better.”
…
Now, if she'd been paying attention, she might have noticed the faint blush creeping across his face.
Unfortunately for him, she wasn't. She was simply walking back to where Player was sitting, pulse racing in disbelief at the absolute gall of what she just did. Whatever the hell they had been doing, it seemed to have worked out fine. They finally rose to their feet, brushing the sand from their clothes.
Calypso sighed, a trickle of relief flooding her heart. “It’s about time. What took you so long?”
Player, as usual, didn’t give a proper answer. Instead, they reached into their satchel and pulled out a short, light blue blade.
Calypso recognised it as the Ice Dagger.
A chill ran down her spine, though it wasn’t from the drop in temperature around the blade. She’d felt the same when she first laid eyes on the Firebrand. Something about these Swords were plain wrong. She of all people would know how dangerous their power was, and if you let all that overwhelming power get to your head…
Well, it never ends well, does it?
Player raised the shimmering blade to the air. As soon as they did, that skin searing heat of the desert seemed to ease up. A cool sort of energy spread through the air around them from both Player and the Sword, raising goosebumps along Calypso's arms. Suddenly, the tiredness that had been weighing down her body seemed to lighten, though it didn't disappear entirely. At least now she felt steadier, more awake.
Despite her distaste for Player making use of these Swords, they sure proved to be useful in battle.
Meanwhile, the idiot stared between the two of them, looking more delighted than anything else. “Yo, that’s a pretty cool sword you got there.” He paused, then snickered, looking very proud of himself.
Wow…Calypso needed this guy six feet below ground as soon as possible.
Player sheathed the dagger, not uttering a single word. They resumed their stance, ready to continue the fight.
It wasn’t very clear, based on their blank expression, but Calypso could’ve sworn she caught the faintest flicker of gratitude in those indifferent eyes.