Dead-or-Alive

-Chapter 1.1-

Dead-or-Alive
The Pirate Captain

-Chapter 1.1 🌊 Ahoy Matey-

Peering in through a dusty window, Sybil strained her eyes to spy on the rowdy pirates. Most spent their time gambling away their day's fortune, no doubt their slim intellect at fault, but she knew, dim as they might have been, the trade offered no finer men. So, no matter how many times they stumbled or blinked in confusion or layed their grimy hands on a strumpet, she would not deter from her course. It also helped that it took her all morning to gather the information she needed from the locals. She refused to put that much effort into anything only to give up.

Crouched just outside the town's favorite tavern, she had waited and waited and waited. For two blasted hours she held the same position, nose pressed up against the glass. Her legs tingled and her body trembled, about ready to topple over, had her hands not cemented themselves onto the windowsill. If she hadn't known any better, she would've assumed she had been the one downing pint after pint of grog, not the barbarians hobbling around inside.

The front door swung open with a loud bang, sending her body tipping to the side, but bless the five seas she pulled herself upright. A flamboyant woman, in her late twenties from the look of it, threw out one of the freebooters. Sybil peeked her head out of her bush hopeful, but soon after grimaced. A pot-bellied buffoon with less sense than hair staggered backwards. "What did ye do that for?"

It really said a lot considering he was bald.

"Not him...," she growled softly, irritated the Captain hadn't made a fool out of himself yet. The man drank excessively, earning himself a rather unflattering reputation. Of course, she didn't mind. She had based her whole plan off it, after all.

Readjusting herself in her hiding spot, she grimaced at the crack of branches breaking against her arms. As much as the twigs bothered her, she didn't have anywhere else to hide. Barren sand surrounded the rest of the tavern, leading all the way down to the shoreline. Had the bush been any smaller, she would've been seen by the townsfolk passing by and not been able to hide at all. There were still some that saw her caped figure through the foliage and gave her a perplexed look before moving on. Luckily, stranger things happened every day.

News of Captain Nathaniel Thatcher's brigantine docking itself by their beach had been strange indeed. Sybil's home, Fuegoryth, never got many visitors because a desert encompassed most of the island. The Isle of 'Dancers' had a much stronger appeal with its cool winds and renowned 'night-walkers'. By ship, it only took half a day's trip if the winds were favorable, so no ships ever docked at Fuegoryth. The one exception remained scholars interested in studying the ancient volcanoes to be found deep in the center of the island.

The volcanoes themselves spawned many legends. One of such legends involving the creation of the five continents. Tierranth, Aguadon, Airetas, Fuegir, and Eterhul are said to have been the names of the five great dragons that ruled over the elements: earth, water, air, fire, and spirit. As these dragons grew from infants to beasts, so did their hunger. They were no longer satisfied with their sector of the world and sought more and more and more... One day battle erupted leading to a fight that lasted one hundred years, presently dubbed the War of Creation.

From that war landmasses, deserts, oceans, trees, and everything else nature encompassed formed. The world as Sybil knew it began its life, while the dragons' came to an end.

What made Fuegoryth peculiar was it supposedly housed its own dragon. Rumor had it the hatchling had been too young to partake in the war and hid inside a volcano, by order of her mother Fuegir. The mother dragon broke off a piece of her continent and sent the island away to remain hidden from those who wished her harm. Now, all dragons are gone, but if Fuegoryth is ever found there's hope dragons can be returned to the world. Of course, Sybil thought it to be an old wives' tale as most did, but the volcanoes remained a popular destination for scholars studying the history of the world, Ato.

A slur of curse words drew Sybil out of her history lesson. "Feak! Buss my blind cheeks, you doxie!"

The pirate's wrath made Sybil's ears perk up. She nearly lunged out of her hiding spot and tackled him to the ground due to excitement alone. She had waited over two blasted hours for this pogy! "Mind your tongue and eyes! You either learn to stomach your liquor or keep the hell out of my tavern!" the woman screeched, yanking up her bodice to shield her pearly white mounds from the Captain's hungry gaze.

Her fury piqued Sybil's interest, momentarily distracting her from the Captain. He had been right in calling her a doxie, so it made no sense for her to be that angry with his stares. 'What did he do?' Sybil pondered.

Sybil's curiosity proved delay enough as the Captain had already begun to move towards the shoreline and his ship. Sybil bounded out from under the window, startling a nearby couple heading into the tavern. "Wait!" Sybil screamed, no longer in need of discretion.

The pirate ignored her, probably too drunk to focus clearly, but that was what she wanted in the first place. Sprinting to catch up, Sybil did what she had longed to only a minute prior and dove onto his back, pushing his smug face into the hard grains of sand. Not the best first impression she'd admit, but she had to be certain the pirate wouldn't run away the instant he heard her outlandish proposition. Well, maybe outlandish was a bit extreme, but it certainly wasn't proper.

"Bloody hell! Flog off devil!" he swore, spitting sand out of his mouth.

"Never!" Thinking about what she said, Sybil backtracked, "At least not until you promise to help me!"

Grumbling he shook like a jackrabbit, but her grip matched that of a dragon-riders. "Unhand me this instant demon or I'll have ye walk the plank!"

Sybil chuckled and shook her head. "Not likely. All I need to do to end your life is make a loud ruckus. The guards will come running, especially after learning you're the famous Captain Nathaniel Thatcher. Such a pretty penny you're worth. It's more likely you'll be dancing the hempen's jig before sundown," she threatened having already planned this scenario along with several hundred others. No way would she be beaten by a good for nothing pirate.

'Not even finding father?'

Okay, the pirate was good for one thing.

He fell limp beneath her and grunted, "What do you want?"

Smiling victoriously Sybil relaxed, well aware that the guards on Fuegoryth did nothing but sleep and drink. She almost forgot what she had been doing had he not tried to squirm away. "Stop it, scoundrel!"

"Well then get to your point! As much as this position would usually entertain me, you aren't making this much fun."

Sybil scowled, but composed herself for the sake of her cause. This was her chance, she couldn't screw things up after getting so close. "Let me join your crew."

A/N:

Confession time! I have a terrible obsession with pirates, so this book has been something I have been meaning to write for a very, very long time! My goal is to finish this by the end of the summer so I can go back and edit it before the holidays and life takes over, which means I will be updating on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays...maybe...life will sometimes get in the way and I hope you understand. Please excuse any mistakes, although it would be appreciated if you pointed them out to be fixed in the near future (just not aggressively :D).

Let me know what you think and enjoy the rest of chapter one! <3

-Max-

P.S. Old cover made by EmEmWolfie