Chapter One: Thirteen Years Later


A Notice to the Citizens of Piccadilly Port Town:

All those who have committed themselves to or shamelessly indulged in any and all acts of piracy shall henceforth be under investigation by the Red Baroness.

All those who can provide any information upon any and all identified suspects of piracy shall be considered for clemency.

These suspects are as follows:

THE CLOAKED CORSAIR.  B. 1665(?).  Male, about 40 years of age, black hair, black eyes, snow-white skin.  Last known whereabouts:  The Plunderer’s Sadness.  Reward last estimated at one thousand doubloons.  Caution:  Inhuman and Dangerous.

JOSEPH O’ MALLEY, CAPTAIN.  B. 1672(?).  Male, about 33 years of age, messy brown hair, pale grey eyes.  Never seen without at least two throwing knives in his possession.  Last known whereabouts: The Dark Dishonor.  Reward last estimated at one hundred and twenty doubloons.  Caution:  Armed and Dangerous.

CARIBBEAN BLUE, CAPTAIN. B. 1682. Female, 23 years of age, long wavy brown hair, one golden eye and one patched eye. Usually seen in the company of a demonic creature called "Voice". Reward last estimated at eighty doubloons.  Caution:  Violent by proxy.


“Only eighty doubloons?!”

Captain Caribbean Blue had read the notice three times over, and she still couldn’t understand the lack of interest expressed by this so-called ‘wanted poster’.  She had started at the very bottom of the heap like all other good pirates before her; she’d done more than her fair share of working up through the ranks; she’d finally found a decent ship and a more-than-decent group of deckhands…and the closest thing to a title they could give her was ‘violent by proxy’?  What was she supposed to do, carry a cutlass in her mouth?

“Oy, Voice, d’you believe this?  All that ‘ard work, an’ they don’t offer a decent reward?  What do we look like, pickpockets?”

“I think that some people don’t know true danger when they see it,” her friend hissed through her teeth.  

“Shall I go pay these people a visit and convince them to reconsider?”

“Ah, no, don’t ye bother, mate,” Blue answered, picking an old stub of charcoal pencil up off of the ground.  “I think I got a much better idea fer this thing.”

With a few clever strokes, the amount of eighty doubloons changed to eighty thousand, becoming much more noticeable by passersby as well as jumping above the rewards for the other two suspects.

“Tha’s better, isn’t it?”

Voice took a look at the Captain’s edits, and quickly smirked in approval.

“Aye, it’s much better now.  That should teach them to put us at the bottom of the hit list.”

“Indeed it should!”

Turning towards the right side of the street, Blue’s eye looked upon a building in the distance that carried the words ‘The One-Eyed Pelican’ upon a worn, wooden sign in the front.  She clapped Voice on the shoulder to get her attention; then jabbed a finger in the direction of the street.

“Now let’s go on and catch ourselves a bite to eat, eh?  Sissy Boy an’ the little one are waitin’ for us…”

* * *

“Quin et caelum ipsum imitable fecimus.  Caeli enim est, circuire terram: quod et nostrae navigationes pervicerunt.  We have succeeded in imitating the heavens, whose property it is to encircle the earth; for this we have done by our voyages.”  

Sarah Scribe took extra care to read the Latin passage slowly before starting in on the translation, for there was always that chance of misreading a word as well as ruining the meaning of the sentence.  This was something her father had taught her a long time ago, and she had followed that instruction ever since.

“Turpe autem nobis sit, si globi materiati tractus, terrarium vicelicet et marium, nostris temporibus in immensum aperti et illustrati sint: globi autem intellectualis fines, inter veterum inventa et angustias steterint.  It would disgrace us, now that the wide spaces of the material globe, the lands and seas, have been broached and explored, if the limits of the intellectual globe should be set by the narrow discoveries of the ancients.

Neque parvo inter se nexu devincta et conjugata sunt ista duo, perlustratio regionum et scientiarum.  Nor are these enterprises, the opening up of the earth and the opening up of the sciences, linked and yoked together in any trivial way.”  

Simon Scribe remained vigilant in the chair beside his daughter’s, listening to her practice her Latin and preparing himself for the hidden message behind the passages.  Several years of quiet study, working for the Prince, and raising a child by himself had lead him to this unexpected turn of events; a voyage that no matter how necessary it was to protect himself and his little family, it still was something he wasn’t quite ready for.

“Plurima enim per longinquas navigationes et peregrinationes in natura patuerunt, quae novam sapientiae et scientiae humanae lucem affundere possint, et antiquorum opiniones et conjecturas experimento regere.  Distant voyages and travels have brought to light many things in nature, which may throw fresh light on human philosophy and science and correct by experience the opinions and conjectures of the ancients.”

Sarah suddenly frowned as she noticed the pattern to her reading assignment.

“Daddy, you’ve got traveling on the brain.”

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart.”  He sighed and raised his hands in mock surrender.  “It’s been on my mind ever since I first crossed paths with the Captain.”

“But why?”

“Because we’ve never been so far away from home before, and neither of us knows what’s out there besides that madman whom the Captain says may come after us.  There might be deadly plagues waiting to strike, monsters wanting to eat us alive, foul weather about to strike at any minute…I’m starting to wonder if staying home might have been the safer option!”

“If we stay home, though, who’s going to keep all the treasure from the bad people?  And how will anybody stop them from destroying the world?”

“I know that, I know…it’s just…well, who’s going to stop the world from destroying us first?”

On the other side of the table, Sandy Crownest sat quietly, listening to the Scribe family’s conversations and sipping from her flask of grog.  These aristocrats were an odd lot to hang around with, especially with the father acting nervous and the daughter trying to reason with him.  Was it any surprise, then, that they hadn’t been completely interested in leaving all the comforts of home behind?  There was a great difference between being on the move for one’s entire life and never being on the move, and Sandy knew it was also the difference between herself and the Scribes that defined their personalities.  They’d never sailed from one corner of the planet to the other; they’d never dealt with any pirates, gypsies, or other strange folk; and most likely, they’d probably never even walked more than a few blocks from their house.  By contrast, she could boast of these experiences plus a few more, for she had been a member of a traveling show where magic and mystery were a lot more commonplace.  And, if she wasn’t mistaken, she knew that it was the exact opposite of how life had been for the Blue family.

A lot of time had passed since one Captain Blue had given way to another; yet the similarities remained—find a good ship and a brave crew, set sail across the untamed ocean, and look after one’s own in the process.  If Simon had been a bit more like the late Sir Rillian, he’d have jumped at the chance to escape this daily routine and taken Sarah with him without a second thought.   However, in spite of these differences of opinion, there were still a few similarities between the two households to think about.  Each had a protective, watchful father and a dutiful, loving daughter; each were in a position of nobility, and for good or for ill, each were about to take a very long journey across the ocean.  The greatest contrast was, while this little family had not yet faced any danger, the one that came before them had—and, because of the greed and ruthlessness of the wicked, only one member had survived.  

After a long absence and a period of wandering across Fadhada, she had been more than happy to see Miss Blue again, with or without the scar where her eye had been and the title of Captain she’d worked and fought hard to earn.  The two had met many years ago as children, and as such, it was a relief to see her alive, well, and in need of a good crew to take care of her ship.  After a few words of agreement and a little signature on a scrap of parchment, she’d found herself here in the tavern while Blue and Voice made the necessary preparations for their maiden voyage.  Once they’d gathered enough people to bring on board and the weather looked just right, they’d be off in search of buried and magical treasures not yet discovered by human eyes.  Soon, they’d begin the adventure of a lifetime, and Sandy’s own life would get much more interesting.

And yet, in spite of all the excitement, mystery, and joy ahead, she could feel that something big was missing.  So far, at least three members of the current crew had wealth and connections; neither of which she could brag about.  Two members had grown up taking care of themselves, and although she’d had a similar childhood, a deserted island was the exact opposite of a gypsy caravan, because there were a lot more people as well as relationships to compare only two children with.  

And last, but certainly not least, there was only one other person—or rather, sentient being—in the crew who relied on the movements of the stars, planets, and other astrological happenings in order to know what to expect in the future, be it nameless strangers crossing their path or great upheavals in the fabric of society.  That being was Z, short for Zxixaraeus, a somewhat dragon-like figure hidden beneath the confines of a large, black hooded cloak.  Although she’d never seen the face behind that hood, his archaic style of speaking and mysterious base of knowledge held her attention from the first time she’d seen him; and after three days’ stay in Piccadilly, he was the only one she could speak openly to without fear of sounding too eccentric.

Presently, Z had been lounging in a corner across from Prince Pierri Patchouli, the ruler of the port town and the crew’s resident crowned head.  Years of being cooped up in the royal palace had lead him to seek adventure in the outside world, and as luck would have it, adventure came calling the moment a certain red-haired girl had been ‘attacked’ by a strange woman in blue and her pet demon.  A short time later, when the dust had cleared and the attack turned out to be nothing but a misunderstanding, he’d gleefully agreed to join Captain Blue on her search for Fadhada’s lost treasures.  And now, at that very moment, treasure was the hot topic of conversation at his table.

“Rumor has it we’ll be able to discover old secrets and stop time,” said the Prince, eagerness evident in his voice.  “Do you suppose we might also be able to summon magical beasts?”

“Not every beast in this world has to be called by magic,” Z chuckled from beneath his hood.  “Sometimes they come of their own free will, and stay as long as they like.”

“Well, yes…some of them might, but what I was referring to was gathering up a few emergency forces if we need any during a battle.  Do you think they would answer our call?”

“They most certainly would if we ask them the right way.  The better the message, the greater the response.”

The creature fell silent for a moment as he watched Captain Blue and Voice enter the tavern, seemingly returning after a small bout of mischief.  After politely excusing himself, the Prince went over to meet them, probably to ask a few more questions about the voyage ahead.  At the same time, Sarah and Mr. Scribe had put the Latin reading aside to go ask the bartender for two glasses of water.  Miss Crownest remained in her seat, gazing absentmindedly out the window as though she had run out of things to talk about.  In the street below, a small group of townspeople went about their daily routine, delightfully oblivious to the fact that a group of pirates was seated right above their heads.  And only a short walk away from them, somewhere out in the harbor, a large, metallic ship was about to make port.

“Speaking of beasts, your Highness…”

Z hadn’t moved from the other side of the room, yet his voice sounded as clear as though he were standing next to Patchouli.

“…An imperial flagship is headed this way.  Shall we go welcome them?”