The WindFlyer

Chapter 6

Captain's PoV

The prince stares at me incredulously as my confession hangs in the air. I shrug at him simply. "Every person has more to them than meets the eye," I say. Draen continues to look at me as if I just confessed my undying love for him, which I will not be doing. I decide to return to my meal, a smirk playing over my lips. It takes the prince a few minutes of silence to compose himself and continue pestering me with questions.

"Where do you come from?" He asks.

"Pirates Cove," I fire back instinctively. He begins to shake his head no to that. I narrow my eyes at him in challenge.

"I've heard the dialect and accent of Pirates Cove. You certainly do not come from there. And no ship this fine could be crafted there. So, where do you come from?" He asks again. I tap my fingers on the table and tilt my head at him.

"Pirates Cove," I insist, not caring that he thinks it a lie. What right does he have to my past? What right does he have to demand answers? Draen should be honored I even bother to answer any questions from him. He scoffs at my response and rolls his eyes at me, but moves on.

"Alright. What about that green liquid you threw at the merchant ship?" With that question I nearly break out of my pirates mask and smile at him.

"Ah, Hellfire you mean." His ears seem to perk up at the response.

"Where does it come from?" He whispers, leaning forward.

"I make it," I reply, a note of pride entering my voice. "Years of working to perfect my recipe, years of failing. It works nicely, don't you think?" He blinks at me.

"You... make it?" He breathes slowly.

"Yes. It was quite difficult to figure out in the first place. You've seen my crew member, Ren, she is a testament to my failures. She survived one of my earlier batches and I decided to pull her wretched body from the sea. At first, I kept her around to push myself to be better, to not fail again. But after she... recovered, she proved to be an excellent addition."

"And her teeth?" He says, disgust evident in his tone. I shoot him a cold smile, a deadly fire dancing in my eyes.

"I had them outfitted for her." The prince recoils at that as if she could not understand why I would do that. "It's the least I could do for all she does for me."

"But... where? Where on the sea gods good archipelago would that happen?"

"Home," I say with a nonchalant shrug. He doesn't ask where that is again and I don't specify either.

Seeing as the meal is complete and the prince seems to be put of questions, for now, I decide to personally escort him to the bowels of the ship and shut him in the brig. I usually would have someone else do it, but my crew are all drunk past the point of competency. It's not their fault, if you give a pirate some rum, they'll drink until they can see the sun. The air is cool tonight and it's clear out. A perfect night for sailing. Seeing as the prince has asked me a number of questions, I think it only fair that I can ask one of my own.

"Can you sail?" He looks startled by the question but slowly nods. I nod to myself, good. "Help me raise the anchor," I command.

Surprisingly, the prince does as I ask. Together, we raise the anchor and I take my place at the helm. I decide to let him remain out with my for a while longer. There is time still for him to sit in the cell, and why lock up a sober sailor? Better to put him to work, in my opinion. The prince leans against the railing, he rolls up his sleeves to the forearms and looks out at the sea. It is silent up at the wheel, the crew seems to have mostly passed out, but I do not need them right now. I know where we are heading based on the stars, I've made this trip hundreds of thousands of times.

The prince, it seems, has not run out of questions as he opens his mouth again. "Tell me how she died." I know who he means. His betrothed. I take a deep breath of salty air before speaking.

"She died by my sword, on her feet, defending her ship. She was brave and did not beg for mercy. She was... kind. Asking only that I make the most of my life. It was not a clean raid, it was my first. She took control of the ship when her captain died, she ordered the ship better than a commander. It was bloody and both sides fought tooth and nail until the end," I say not looking at him. I keep my eyes on the horizon and he is silent.

"Why? Why become a pirate?" He asks softly, so soft that I nearly do not catch it.

"Can you not hear it?" I respond. He seems confused by the question.

"What?"

"The sea. Can you not hear how she sings? The way her voice sways with the wind and the waves. The song of freedom. That's why."

"I hear the song." His only reply. And that is where the two of us differ. He knows his place is in the palace, knowing that he is destined to run a country and marry a princess and be that royal. He has trained himself to ignore the song of the sea where I could not. I had to follow her to my dreams to where my life awaited me. I refuse to sacrifice myself and my happiness for anything.

The night begins to fade and I don't bother bringing the prince back to his cell. I promised him hours on deck per day and the day is nearly here. When the first grumblings of my hungover crew begin to sound, I start shouting at them to get their arses in gear. The wind whips my hair about in a flurry that reminds me of my scrambling crew. I long to laugh at the sight but refrain, no break in that mask the prince sees. I am cruel and I am black-hearted.

No one dares question where we are going. Not the prince and not the crew, the crew knows better than to question their captain. But from some of the smiles I can faintly see on the lips of some of the crew they already know. They know from how the wind blows and the waves move and how the sun beats down on us. Yes, it is fair to say my crew knows this path. I only hope I haven't made a mistake on bringing the prince along. To a place I care more about than any treasure I've ever stolen.

Home.