Chapter 1: The Map
I flexed my wings slightly as we approached the old warehouse, feeling the anticipation that always came before one of our adventures. The morning air was crisp, carrying the familiar scent of Mistwood Harbor—salt, pine, and a hint of damp earth. Beside me, Ash led the way with his usual confident stride, his eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet focus.
Papa Robin had asked us to clear out this warehouse earlier, giving us a clear rundown of the task. “Anything old or too far gone, toss it out,” he had said, waving his hand as if brushing the clutter away. “Anything still useful, organize it so we know what’s in there. And if you find something really interesting, something special—well, it’s yours to keep. Consider it a reward for all the hard work.” The twinkle in his eye had made it clear that this job might hold a few hidden treasures if we kept our eyes open.
The prospect of finding something unique or valuable had my mind racing the whole way to the warehouse. Now, standing in front of it, the building seemed to loom over us, its wooden beams weathered and creaking under the weight of years. Inside, the air was thick with dust, and the sunlight filtering through cracks in the walls cast long shadows over the rows of crates and barrels. My wings brushed against the doorframe as I entered, but I quickly folded them tight against my back. There was something about this place—it felt like it was waiting for us to discover its secrets.
Ash glanced around, taking in the layout of the space. “Looks like there’s a lot to sift through,” he said thoughtfully, running a hand over one of the crates. “What do you think? Artyom, you’re best with the heavy stuff. Maybe you could get these crates out of the way so we can see what’s behind them?”
Artyom grinned and nodded. “Got it.”
“Sirisi,” Ash continued, his tone more suggestive than commanding, “there’s a lot of delicate-looking stuff here. Want to take care of anything fragile?”
“Of course,” Sirisi replied with a smile. She seemed to appreciate that Ash knew what each of us was best at.
Ash looked at me next. “Euros, think you can check out the darker corners? Could be something hidden back there.”
I nodded, feeling the same excitement. “I’m on it.”
He didn’t assign himself a task. He never did. Ash just dove in wherever he was needed, never standing still for long. This time, he moved toward a row of crates near the window, examining them for anything interesting or out of place. He was always involved, working alongside us, making sure we were all moving in the same direction.
I drifted toward the back of the warehouse, my fingers tingling as I passed by old wooden barrels and stacks of crates. There were traces of magic lingering here—nothing dangerous, but old and forgotten, clinging to the objects like a faint mist. As I reached the far corner, something caught my eye—a glint of metal hidden beneath a pile of rotting ropes and nets.
“Guys, over here,” I called, excitement creeping into my voice. Ash was the first to join me, followed closely by Sirisi and Artyom. We all gathered around the chest, its surface covered in intricate carvings that were barely visible under the dust.
“There’s magic here,” I said, narrowing my eyes as I sensed the faint, familiar hum of enchantment. The magic was weak, but it was definitely woven into the chest’s lock.
Sirisi ran her hand over the surface of the chest, her psionic abilities enhancing her connection to the lingering magic. “You’re right,” she confirmed softly. “It’s old, but strong enough to keep people out.”
Ash crouched down next to the chest, inspecting the lock. “It’s sealed up tight,” he said, running his fingers along the edges. “Looks like there’s a mechanical lock too. I can take care of that.”
“Let me guess,” I said with a grin, feeling the old magic curling around the chest like a faint shadow. “You handle the physical part, and I’ll deal with the magical one?”
Ash smiled, already reaching for his House De'Endar Dagger. He held the black blade against the metal lock, letting its unique magic flow into the mechanism. I could hear the subtle clicks and shifts as the intricate inner workings began to move.
“There’s more to this lock than it looks,” Ash murmured, his attention fully on the task.
I stepped forward and closed my eyes, reaching out with my own magic to unravel the enchantment. The magical lock was layered, old but still strong. I worked carefully, pulling apart the strands of the spell one by one. It took a few minutes, but eventually, both the magical and mechanical locks gave way with a satisfying click.
Artyom stepped in and lifted the heavy lid, his strength making it look easy. Inside, beneath layers of rotting fabric, lay an ancient map—its edges worn and frayed but still intact enough to make out the lines and symbols.
Sirisi knelt beside it, her eyes wide with wonder. “A map… do you think it leads somewhere?”
I studied the markings, my heart racing with excitement. “Could be a treasure map,” I said slowly, turning the possibilities over in my mind. “Or maybe just an old forgotten ruin. Either way, it’s worth investigating.”
Ash nodded, studying the map with that familiar calculating look in his eyes. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “But first, let’s finish what we came here to do. Papa Robin’s expecting us to clear this place out. We can look over this back at the clubhouse.”
There was no hesitation. A renewed determination surged through all of us. We had given our word to help, and leaving a job unfinished wasn’t our way. With the map safely stowed, we set back to work, each of us pushing forward with a new energy. Artyom moved the last of the heavier crates, Sirisi carefully handled anything fragile, and I checked the remaining corners for anything we might have missed.
Ash worked right alongside us, lifting crates and scanning the room for anything we might have missed. We didn’t need to say much; it was like we all knew exactly where to step in. While Artyom handled the heavier stuff and Sirisi took care of the more fragile items, Ash kept us moving forward, always a step ahead but never too far from the work. It just made sense to follow his lead—his plans always had a way of coming together, and this time was no different.
As the last crate was moved and the warehouse finally looked organized, Ash dusted off his hands. “Good job, everyone. Let’s go see Papa Robin.”
We gathered our things and headed straight for the town hall, where Papa Robin was usually managing the day-to-day affairs of Mistwood. His office was at the center of everything, where people came to discuss matters of importance or seek his guidance.
When we arrived, we found him at his desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and maps. He looked up as soon as we walked in, a smile spreading across his face.
“Well, look who it is! Did you finish up the job?”
Ash stepped forward with a nod. “The warehouse is all cleared and organized, just like you asked. We even found something interesting, it looks like a treasure map.”
Robin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Sounds interesting for sure! Well, you’ve earned your pay.” He handed each of us a crisp $20 bill. “And whatever else you found in there, consider it yours.”
Ash folded his $20 and slipped it into his pocket, glancing at us with a knowing smile. “Thanks, Papa Robin. We’ll make good use of this.”
Robin chuckled, then looked at us closely. “Whatever it is you’re planning next, just be careful, alright?”
“We will,” I chimed in, grinning. “Thanks again!”
With our payment secured, we headed back to the clubhouse. The towering magical maple tree that housed our hideaway rose ahead of us, its massive trunk and twisting branches a familiar sight. Rope bridges connected the platforms above, and lookout points jutted out between the leaves, giving us a clear view of Mistwood from every angle.
Inside the clubhouse, Ash spread the map out on the large wooden table, the ancient paper curling at the edges. I leaned in closer, the faded lines and torn sections drawing me in.
“This part’s torn,” Ash said, tracing a finger over the missing sections. “But we’ve got enough to start with.”
I focused on the old symbols, their faint glow barely perceptible. “There’s ancient magic in this,” I muttered. “It’s faint, but still there. This map is more than just a guide.”
Artyom, standing next to me, examined the parchment, his sharp eye for detail immediately picking up the delicate lines. “We could restore the missing sections,” he said thoughtfully. “But I’ll need to stabilize the whole thing first. The edges are too fragile.”
Sirisi placed her hand on the map, her eyes narrowing as she connected with the lingering energy. “I can feel something… a connection to the people who hid this treasure. It’s still there, I don’t think it’s been found...”
Euros nodded and carefully traced a few of the remaining visible lines. “I think these might give us something to go on. If we can follow these, we might be able to get a rough idea of where this leads.”
Ash studied the map for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Sirisi and I will head to the manor. The library has a lot of old books and letters that might help fill in the gaps. You two keep working here—try to make sense of whatever lines are still intact.”
I nodded, already focused on the faint markings left on the map. “We’ll be here.”
With a brief exchange of glances, Ash and Sirisi left for the De'Endar Manor. The air in the clubhouse grew still, save for the rustling of leaves from outside and the occasional creak of the wooden platforms.
Artyom stretched his hands, flexing his fingers before leaning over the map. “Alright, what do we have here?”
I studied the fragile document carefully. The magic was ancient and subtle, its presence barely there, but the map itself still held clues. “These lines here—some of them are still visible,” I said, pointing to a section on the lower left. “If we follow the markings that are left, we might be able to sketch out a partial route.”
Artyom nodded and grabbed his sketching tools, setting to work with a precision that made his artistic skill apparent. He carefully sketched out the visible lines, replicating the faded paths onto a clean sheet of paper, while I continued tracing the magic in the map.
“Even though parts of it are gone, the remaining pieces could give us something,” I said, watching as the lines slowly came together under Artyom’s skilled hand. “This route is leading toward the coastline, but without more context, it’s hard to tell where exactly.”
Artyom paused for a moment, his pencil hovering over the paper. “It’s hard to know if this is accurate, but it’s something,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “We’re missing too much to be sure.”
I ran my hand over the map, feeling the delicate remnants of the enchantment still embedded in the parchment. “We’ll have to wait until Ash and Sirisi come back with more information. For now, we can only sketch what’s visible.”
Artyom leaned back, looking over his work. The sketch was careful and detailed, with the lines of the original map replicated exactly as they appeared, but the gaps were still obvious. We both knew the map wouldn’t be complete until Ash and Sirisi returned with whatever they found.
We worked in silence for a while longer, focusing on the remaining lines. Occasionally, I would feel a surge of magic—a faint echo of something long past—but without more context, it was hard to make sense of the entire picture.
Time passed slowly, and just as I was beginning to wonder how long Ash and Sirisi would be, the door creaked open, and they walked in, their arms full of books, letters, and maps.
“Find anything good?” I asked, looking up from the map.
Ash dropped a few old, weathered books onto the table. “We found more than we expected. Some maps, letters from explorers, and a couple of books on old ruins along the coast. There’s a lot here that matches what you’ve uncovered.”
Sirisi unrolled one of the maps and laid it beside the one we had been working on. “These letters talk about landmarks—caves, hidden bays—just like what we’re seeing on the map. They match the coordinates you were able to trace.”
Artyom sifted through the books until his eyes caught on a particularly tattered volume. He opened it carefully, flipping through the brittle pages. “Wait, look at this.”
I leaned over, peering at the faded words on the page. “The Pirate King…?” I said, reading the heading.
“It’s part of a local legend,” Artyom explained, his voice tinged with curiosity. “It says that the Pirate King and his crew were feared across the seas, but unlike other pirates, he had a sense of morality. He only attacked ships belonging to wealthy merchants and nations—those who could afford the loss. He didn’t target the smaller, independent captains.”
Ash nodded slowly. “So, he wasn’t just a ruthless thief.”
Artyom continued reading. “Right. But things changed when they came across a ship that seemed prosperous—loaded with goods. His crew wanted to attack it, eager for more treasure, but the Pirate King saw something different.”
Sirisi leaned in, her voice quiet. “What did he see?”
Artyom flipped to another page. “The captain of that ship pleaded with the Pirate King, explaining that everything on board was the result of his life’s work. He wasn’t a rich man, just someone who had worked hard for years to build his business. His ship wasn’t a fortune—just his livelihood.”
I glanced at Ash, seeing the tension on his face as he listened. “So, the Pirate King decided to spare him?”
Artyom nodded. “Exactly. The Pirate King ordered his crew to leave the ship and let the man go free. But his crew refused to follow his orders. They turned against him.”
Ash frowned. “And what happened next?”
“They plundered the ship anyway,” Artyom said, his tone darkening. “They killed the captain and his crew, ignoring the Pirate King’s orders. And that’s when the curse fell upon them.”
I could almost feel the chill in the air as Artyom continued. “After they set sail again, the wind turned against them. The sea became wild and treacherous, and they were forced to crash onto a hidden island. The curse bound them to the island—forever trapped, unable to leave, with the treasure they stole. Their greed condemned them to an eternal existence guarding that treasure.”
Sirisi’s voice was soft, her psionic senses brushing against the story. “So they’re cursed… guarding a treasure they can never spend.”
Ash leaned back, his expression darkening. “And this island—it’s where the treasure is hidden. That’s what this map is leading us to.”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling the weight of the legend settle over us. “That explains why no one’s been able to find the treasure. The island is hidden, and the crew is cursed to guard it.”
Artyom set the book down, his fingers lingering on the faded pages. “But it doesn’t say what will happen if someone reaches the island. There’s no mention of what comes next.”
I nodded. “We’ll have to be careful. We don’t know what’s waiting for us.”
Ash broke the silence, his voice steady. “Let’s focus on finding the island first. We’ll deal with whatever happens when we get there.”
We shifted our focus back to the map. Artyom studied the new material closely, his fingers lightly tracing over the detailed landmarks. “Wait,” he said, glancing between the old map and the newly unrolled one. “There’s something missing here. Look at this coastline.”
I leaned over, comparing the maps. At first glance, everything seemed to match, but there was one crucial difference. “The map we found has more detail,” I said, pointing to an area of the coastline. “There’s something out here, off the coast… but it’s not on any of these other maps.”
Ash frowned, leaning closer. “What do you mean?”
“It’s a small island,” Artyom said, his eyes narrowing as he traced the faint lines. “It’s not marked on any of the modern maps, but the details on this old map are clear. This section—” he pointed at the coastline on the treasure map, “—should be right here, but there’s nothing drawn in the modern maps.”
Euros nodded in agreement, his mind racing with possibilities. “I see it now. This map is older, but it’s also more accurate in some ways. Maybe this island was forgotten, or maybe it’s hidden, but it’s definitely there. If we cross-reference the coordinates and adjust for the differences between the old map and the modern one, we can get a pretty clear idea of where this place is.”
Artyom was already sketching the missing piece into the modern map, his focus intense. “It’s small, but it’s there. See? There’s a gap in the chain of islands that’s barely noticeable, but this older map shows it.”
I ran my hand over the newly filled-in section, excitement building. “So, it’s not just a coastline—it’s an island. And that’s where the treasure must be.”
Ash stepped back, looking at the map with renewed determination. “That’s our destination, then. A hidden island, off the usual charts.”
Sirisi’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “It’s not on the regular maps for a reason. I wonder what’s waiting for us there.”
“We’ll have to be ready,” I said, already mentally calculating what we’d need for the journey. “If the island’s that well-hidden, we might not be the first ones who’ve tried to reach it.”
Artyom finished the sketch, leaning back. “We’ve got the location now. We just need to get the boat and the supplies.”
The discovery of the island had set a new challenge in front of us. We knew where the treasure was, but the island was far—too far for us to reach without the right ship.
Ash folded the maps carefully. “We’re going to need a boat. Not just any boat—something sturdy enough to handle the open ocean.”
Artyom nodded, his expression serious. “Something with enough space for supplies, too. A rowboat won’t cut it.”
Sirisi frowned slightly. “But boats aren’t cheap.”
I pulled out our shared money pouch from a hidden drawer in the clubhouse. “Good thing we’ve been saving up. Let’s see how much we have.”
Our club fund was something we’d all contributed to over time. Whenever we had extra money, we’d toss it in. There was no log of who gave what—it was all shared equally, and we only took it out when we all agreed.
Artyom grinned as I emptied the pouch onto the table. “This should help us get started.”
Ash started counting the coins and dollars while Sirisi and I added the extra earnings from Papa Robin. After a few minutes of careful tallying, we had a total.
“Just over a thousand dollars,” Ash said, looking at the pile of money.
“A thousand dollars isn’t bad,” Sirisi said, sounding hopeful. “That’ll get us something.”
“But will it be enough for a real boat?” Artyom asked, his arms crossed as he thought through the problem. “We’ll need something that can handle the sea.”
I nodded in agreement. “A decent boat is going to cost more than this.”
Ash rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We’re close, but not close enough. Maybe we can find a deal, or something we can work on ourselves.”
CHAPTER 2: ACQUIRING THE ROGUE WAVE
The sun was setting over Mistwood as we gathered back in the clubhouse. We had everything laid out before us—the map, the books Ash and Sirisi had brought from the De’Endar manor, and our savings. After everything we’d counted earlier, we knew the hard truth: just over a thousand dollars wasn’t going to be enough for the kind of boat we needed.
We sat around the large wooden table, the excitement from the map’s discovery still lingering in the air, but the reality of our situation was starting to sink in.
“A thousand dollars isn’t bad,” Sirisi said, leaning back in her chair, “but it’s not going to get us a boat strong enough for the open ocean.”
Ash nodded, arms crossed as he stared down at the pile of gold coins and dollars. “Boats capable of crossing the sea aren’t cheap. We’re short by at least another thousand, maybe more.”
Artyom scratched his chin, deep in thought. “Maybe we could look for a used boat? Something with sails that could make the journey?”
“Even then, we’d be pushing our luck,” I said. “A boat like that would still cost way more than we’ve got.”
The energy in the room dimmed a little as we all faced the same truth: we didn’t have enough. The treasure map we’d found, the hidden island it led to, all of it seemed within our reach—except for this one hurdle.
“We could try earning more money,” Sirisi offered, her voice determined. “We could take on more odd jobs or sell some things. Artyom’s wood carvings are amazing. Maybe we could sell them at the market.”
Artyom shrugged. “We could, but that’ll take time. And we’d need a lot more sales to get us close.”
Ash tapped his fingers on the table, clearly running through every option in his head. “We’ll figure it out,” he said firmly. “This treasure isn’t going anywhere.”
Later that evening, we gathered at De'Endar Manor for dinner. The large, opulent dining room was filled with the soft clink of silverware and the low hum of conversation. Our parents sat at one end of the long table, talking among themselves, while we kids sat together near the other end.
The rich smells of roasted meats, fresh bread, and savory sauces filled the air, but despite the feast in front of us, our minds were still on the treasure and, more importantly, the boat.
Sirisi leaned forward, her voice low. “We’ve got some ideas for raising more money, but even if we sell some things or take on more jobs, it’ll take a while.”
Artyom nodded. “We’d need to find something fast—something that could handle the open ocean without sinking.”
“We could sell some old stuff,” I suggested, glancing around the table. “Maybe some of the trinkets we’ve found over the years. People love odd things, especially in the market.”
Ash frowned. “It’s a good idea, but I don’t want us to get distracted. We need to stay focused on the treasure. If we spread ourselves too thin trying to earn money, we might miss our chance.”
We were all determined to figure it out, but it was starting to feel like the more we talked, the more impossible it seemed. No matter how many odd jobs or sales we could manage, it wasn’t going to be enough to close the gap in time for our adventure.
As we whispered and plotted, I caught Uncle Masdrin glancing our way. He had that sharp, knowing look in his eyes, like he’d picked up on the general topic of our conversation. We tried to keep our voices low, but I had a feeling he was listening even while speaking with the other adults.
At some point during dinner, Uncle Masdrin leaned back in his chair, his eyes settling on Ash. “I couldn’t help but overhear something about a boat,” he said, his voice casual.
The table fell quiet, and we exchanged a glance. Ash straightened up. “We’ve been working on something. We found a map, and it looks like it leads to a hidden island—somewhere off the coast.”
Uncle Masdrin raised an eyebrow, intrigued but calm. “An island, huh? Sounds like quite the adventure.”
“Yes, sir,” I added quickly, “but the problem is… we need a boat to get there, and boats are expensive.”
“We’ve saved up a lot,” Ash continued, “but we’re still short. We’ve got about a thousand dollars, but it’s not enough for the kind of boat we’d need for this kind of trip.”
Uncle Masdrin considered that for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “You’ve done well to save up that much,” he said, leaning back. “It’s not easy to pull together that kind of money at your age.”
I felt a flicker of hope as he spoke, but I was also cautious. Was he about to offer us help? The last thing we wanted was to seem like we were asking for favors.
He glanced briefly toward the other adults before turning back to us. “I might have a solution for you, though,” he added, more casually. “If you’re interested.”
We all sat up a little straighter, our curiosity piqued.
“I could take you down to the docks tomorrow,” he began, “and help you find a used boat—something with sails that could make the journey. With what you’ve saved, you’d probably be able to get something seaworthy for a decent price.”
There was a long pause as we exchanged glances. That was more than we’d expected—a solid, practical option. But before any of us could speak, Uncle Masdrin continued.
“Or,” he said, with a small smile, “there’s The Rogue Wave. It’s a pinnace I’ve kept in the armory—a magical one, in fact. It might suit your needs.”
The air seemed to still for a moment. I felt a jolt of excitement, but also disbelief. A magical boat?
Ash’s eyes widened slightly, and I could see the spark of interest in everyone’s faces.
Uncle Masdrin went on, describing the boat. “It’s small but fast, and it has some magical features that make it a bit more special than your average ship. The most useful part? It doesn’t need fuel, and it can collapse into a small, portable model when not in use.”
I felt my heart race as he described it. A boat that didn’t need fuel? That meant we wouldn’t have to worry about supplies running out, and it was light enough to store easily. It was far beyond what we’d imagined.
“The Rogue Wave would usually be worth much more than what you’ve saved,” Uncle Masdrin said, his tone still measured. “But I’m willing to offer it within your budget.”
We all stared at him, processing what he’d said. There was a moment of stunned silence, as if we couldn’t quite believe it.
“You’ll need to be careful with it,” he added. “It’s powerful and reliable, but responsibility comes with using something like this. If you want it, the choice is yours.”
Ash leaned forward slightly, his eyes scanning each of us, his tone measured. “We all know this is a good deal,” he said, glancing briefly at Uncle Masdrin before returning his gaze to us. “Dad’s really helping us out here. But let’s be clear—this is all of our money.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over us. “Is a boat—any boat—what we all want to spend everything we’ve saved on?”
There was a heavy silence as we all thought about it. Spending all of our savings was a big deal, but I could see in Ash’s eyes that he wasn’t going to push us into it without making sure we were all fully on board.
Sirisi was the first to speak, her voice calm but certain. “I think it’s the best thing we could spend it on. We’re going to need a boat for this adventure, and this one’s better than anything we could hope to find.”
Artyom scratched the back of his neck, clearly thinking it over. “Yeah, it’s everything we’ve got,” he said, frowning slightly, “but we won’t need money for a while if we don’t have to buy fuel. And we can take supplies from the manor and our own stash.”
Ash nodded, but his gaze shifted toward me. I knew what he was thinking, and I had been running the numbers in my head the whole time.
“It’s risky,” I began, “but it’s smart. A boat like this is a long-term asset, something that’ll help us on more than just this one adventure. We won’t need to spend on fuel, and we can make up for any supplies we’re short on. I think it’s worth it.”
Ash let out a small breath, the tension easing from his shoulders. He glanced at Uncle Masdrin before giving a firm nod. “Alright then. We’ll take The Rogue Wave.”
We settled back in our chairs, the tension and uncertainty from earlier finally fading away. A quiet, almost buzzing excitement filled the air. The treasure map, the boat, the adventure—it was all coming together. The food in front of us suddenly seemed even better, and we dug in with renewed energy.
As we ate, I noticed Aunt Guenwhyvar—Ash’s mom—glance over at Uncle Masdrin, concern flashing across her face. Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but I caught the words as she leaned toward him. “Are you sure they’ll be safe out there? The ocean’s unpredictable.”
Uncle Masdrin gave her a reassuring smile. “Nothing on the ocean will catch that boat, Guen. The magic built into it ensures that. They’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded, her hand resting lightly on Ash’s shoulder as if to remind him to be careful. Ash gave her a small smile, and we all knew she would worry no matter what.
Dinner wrapped up soon after, but we couldn’t stop talking about what lay ahead. The excitement was infectious, and by the time we left the table, we were already making plans for the journey. We had the map, we had the boat, and most importantly, we had each other.
Tomorrow, the adventure would truly begin.
Chapter 3: Preparing for the Voyage
The sunlight filtering through the high windows felt warm, like a familiar touch. I ran my finger along the map on the large wooden table, ruler in hand, carefully measuring the distance to the island. Three days to reach it—maybe four, depending on what we run into. I let that settle for a moment, feeling the excitement buzz underneath my skin. The unknown was waiting for us—new waters, new places, and maybe something more than we could guess.
“Three days, give or take,” I said, pushing the ruler aside. “Could be four if things slow us down.” I glanced around the table at Ash, Sirisi, and Artyom. They were watching me closely, waiting for my verdict, but I could feel the same eagerness radiating from them. I wasn’t the only one itching to get started.
Ash stood at the head of the table, arms crossed like always when he was thinking through a plan. “Let’s prepare for two weeks,” he said, voice steady. No hesitation, just confidence, like always. “Better to have too much than too little.”
I nodded. Two weeks meant more supplies, but it also gave us more time to explore the island—more time to search. The excitement of discovery was building, bubbling just under the surface. I wasn’t just thinking about the voyage; I was already imagining what we might find once we arrived.
“We’ll need time to search once we’re there,” Sirisi added, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the island on the map. Her voice was calm, like she was already seeing something hidden beneath the surface. “If there are any traps or hidden paths, we’ll want to be thorough.”
I paused, letting her words sink in. She always saw things I didn’t. Traps or hidden paths didn’t worry me—planning and preparation meant we’d be ready for anything. Still, her attention to detail made me think twice about all the things we could be missing.
Artyom, ever practical, chimed in next. “I’ll handle the food and grab Mama’s cookbook. We’ll eat well on this trip.”
I grinned, feeling more certain by the minute. With Artyom’s food, Ash’s leadership, and Sirisi’s sharp insight, we’d be set. This wasn’t just another adventure—it felt bigger, more important. Something was waiting for us out there, and I couldn’t wait to find out what it was.
Gathering supplies from the Clubhouse felt familiar, but different at the same time. The shelves still lined with dried meats, water skins, ropes, and tools were like old friends, reminders of how many times we’d prepared for journeys like this. But this time, everything felt more deliberate, like each step we took brought us closer to something we couldn’t fully predict.
I glanced out the window as I slid my journal into one of the pouches on my belt. The Clubhouse, now seamlessly woven into the massive maple tree’s branches, swayed gently in the breeze. Mistwood Harbor sparkled in the distance. I couldn’t help but take it all in. This was our base—our home—and it felt like it was watching over us.
The journal was where I kept notes on all our past adventures, strategies, and ideas we’d gathered along the way. It was a reminder that every adventure we’d been on had taught us something, even if we hadn’t realized it at the time. This one would be no different, but there was something in the air—something that made me feel like we were about to face something new, something we hadn’t prepared for.
Outside, I glanced toward the alcoves nestled in the giant branches of the tree where our mounts rested. Blaze, Nimbus, Aurelia, and Titan seemed at peace, their feathers catching the soft light filtering through the leaves. Despite the calm, I knew they sensed what was coming. The air felt different—charged with the anticipation of the journey ahead.
Ash stood by Blaze, running a hand over the bird’s neck. Blaze leaned into the touch, letting out a low call that felt more like a promise than anything. Ash's gaze was fixed on the horizon, already planning ahead. He didn’t need to speak. Blaze understood. He would be here, waiting for when we returned.
Nearby, Sirisi was beside Aurelia, her fingers tracing gentle patterns through her feathers. She whispered something, and though I couldn’t hear the words, I could feel the weight of them. Aurelia shifted slightly, as if acknowledging Sirisi’s silent promise. The bond between them ran deeper than words, and I knew Aurelia would watch over the Clubhouse in our absence.
Artyom stood with Titan, the two sharing one of their quiet moments, a steady exchange of understanding. Titan ruffled his feathers under Artyom’s hand, responding to the unspoken connection they always shared. The light danced across Titan’s shimmering wings, and I knew, just like the others, Titan would be waiting for us, as dependable as ever.
I turned to Nimbus, who rested in his alcove. His dark feathers gleamed, his eyes catching mine for just a second. He let out a low, familiar call—one that always seemed to echo through the air just before we left. I didn’t need to say anything to him. We understood each other. He knew we’d be back.
“Ready?” Ash’s voice pulled me back to the moment.
I glanced at him and nodded, feeling the weight of the pouch on my belt. My notes, my tools, everything I needed was ready. But there was something else—the feeling that this moment, right before we left, was a tipping point. After this, everything would change.
When we arrived at the manor, a calm washed over me. It was home, but there was something different in the air today. Maybe it was the weight of the journey ahead, or maybe it was just the way we were all preparing for something bigger than we’d anticipated.
Uncle Beocca was already there, calm and steady as always, handing over large sacks of flour, water, dried meats, preserved vegetables, and more supplies than I’d expected. “Take what you need, and a bit extra,” he said seriously, handing over bundles of dried fruits and even some barrels of pickled fish. “But ration carefully. You can’t rely on luck when you’re out there.”
I nodded, the weight of responsibility settling over me. This wasn’t just about feeding ourselves—it was about making sure we lasted the full two weeks. Uncle Beocca trusted us, and I wasn’t about to let him down.
Then Aunt Katya arrived with a basket overflowing with fresh fruits and baked goods. Her voice was always soothing, full of warmth, like she knew exactly what to say to calm us all down. “My littles are going far, yes? But Mama Kitty knows you are strong. Here, take these—made with love, hmm? Eat the fresh fruit first, yes, it won’t last as long. The preserves will keep you fed for many days. Mama says full bellies make for strong hearts. You take care of yourself and your cousins, always.”
The warmth of her words settled over me like a blanket, grounding me. Aunt Katya’s food wasn’t just food—it was home. And no matter what happened out there, I knew we’d have that waiting for us when we returned.
At the docks, the weight of the moment pressed down on me. Auntie Guen stood beside Uncle Masdrin, her hand resting on Ash’s shoulder. I saw it in her face—the worry she was trying to hide. But even if she didn’t say it, I knew she was anxious about letting us go.
Uncle Masdrin noticed too. He gave her a reassuring smile, the kind that always made me feel like everything would be okay. “Guen, nothing on the water could catch this boat,” he said, confident as ever. He rested his hand on The Rogue Wave, like he was reminding himself of its strength. “It’ll outrun anything that tries.”
Auntie Guen relaxed a little, but I could still see the worry lingering in her eyes. Uncle Masdrin saw it too. He tilted his head back slightly and let out a sharp, distinct call—one that echoed across the docks like the cry of a raven.
I looked up as Korlis appeared from the sky, his dark feathers gleaming in the sunlight. He returned the call before landing beside Uncle Masdrin. Auntie Guen’s face softened immediately. Korlis had that effect on people—his presence made you feel safer, like nothing could touch you as long as he was watching over you.
“Korlis will be with them,” Uncle Masdrin said softly, resting a hand on the griffon’s neck. “Nothing can slip by him.”
Uncle Masdrin turned to Ash and led him aboard The Rogue Wave, walking him through the controls. I followed close behind, watching as he gestured to the wheel and the panel of levers and gauges in front of him. “This isn’t just any boat,” Uncle Masdrin said, his voice serious now. “The ship responds to your commands, but it’s still a vessel. You need to keep your focus. These levers control the steam engine, and this gauge tells you how much magic is flowing through the engine.”
Ash nodded, his fingers brushing over the controls, already committing them to memory. Uncle Masdrin trusted Ash, and I did too. Even though we had more to learn, I knew Ash would figure it out, just like he always did.
Nearby, Dad pulled me aside, his eyes sharp as he gestured toward the engine room. “Keep an eye on it, Euros,” he said, his voice low but clear. “It’s not just magic—you’ll need to listen to it, respect it. The ship will respond to you, but only if you do it right.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It wasn’t just about making things run smoothly. It was about understanding the engine, feeling how it worked beneath my hands. This was my responsibility, and I wasn’t going to let Dad—or my cousins—down.
Mom stood next to him, her sharp eyes focused on me. “And remember what I’ve taught you, Euros. You’ll need strategy and caution out there. Use your mind as much as your magic.”
Her words lingered in the air, and I could feel the weight of them settle in my chest. Strategy and caution. This wasn’t just an adventure—it was a test. A test of everything we’d learned.
Artyom was already down in the galley, organizing the supplies. He took great care in placing everything where it belonged, making sure nothing would shift or slide while we were out at sea. He smiled as he tucked Aunt Katya’s cookbook into its place, already planning the meals he’d cook for us. His fishing gear was neatly packed nearby, ready for when we needed fresh food. His calm, steady presence always reassured me. No matter what happened, I knew we wouldn’t go hungry—not with Artyom around.
With everything in place, Ash and Artyom raised the Emberstone flag at the stern of The Rogue Wave. I watched the red and white stripes flutter alongside the black triangle and maple leaves. It was a reminder of home—a reminder of where we were from and what we were setting out for.
Korlis was still on deck, standing near Ash. I could tell he was trying to move, but the deck was too cramped for his size. His wings shifted slightly, and it was clear he wouldn’t have enough space to move around properly. Ash noticed it too.
Uncle Masdrin pulled a small silver ring from the saddle horn and handed it to Ash.
“This will let you shrink Korlis to the size of a large Mastiff dog when needed,” Uncle Masdrin explained. “Slide it onto your finger, and when you pet him with that hand, he’ll shrink. It’s best to store it on the saddle when riding, but since you won’t be riding him this time, keep it with you.”
Ash nodded and slipped the ring onto his finger. He ran his hand over Korlis’ feathers, and within moments, Korlis began to shrink, his large form becoming small enough to move comfortably around the deck.
“Thanks,” Ash said quietly, but I could see the confidence in his eyes. Korlis padded around the deck, now the size of a really big dog, ready to watch over us from the deck or from above.
As we stood by the docks for the final farewells, Aunt Siri stood beside Sirisi, the magical bracelet between them glowing softly. Sirisi smiled, holding up her wrist. “Mama, I’ll stay in contact with you the whole time,” she said softly. Aunt Siri smiled back, calm and composed. “You be wise, my little one. Remember, we are always with you, even when you can’t see us.”
Artyom stood with Aunt Katya and Uncle Beocca, taking the last basket of supplies. Aunt Katya smiled, wrapping him in that familiar warmth of hers. “Take care of yourself, and your cousins,” she said softly. “You make bannock with love like Mama taught you, yes? Keep bellies full, hearts strong.”
I watched Artyom straighten under her words, his shoulders squaring. He took the basket, his eyes sweeping over everything with that calm, focused attention he always had. We weren’t going hungry—not with Artyom on board.
We boarded The Rogue Wave, each of us ready in our own way. Korlis, now shrunken to his smaller form, moved around the deck with ease, his presence solid and reassuring. Ash stood at the helm, Sirisi beside him, and Artyom securing the supplies below deck. And me? I headed straight for the engine. I could already feel the pulse of magic beneath my hands. This was it.
Our parents watched from the docks as we sailed down the Oakenbrid River, the Emberstone flag fluttering behind us. I looked up as Korlis took to the skies, circling above us. I smiled. We were ready for whatever waited out there. The adventure had only just begun.
CHAPTER 4: THE JOURNEY TO THE ISLAND
Day 1: Smooth Sailing
The sunlight glinted off the Oakenbrid River as I stood near the helm, Hawk’s Eye Tablet in hand, monitoring the route ahead. Today, we were finally heading out, and it was all starting to feel real. None of us said it aloud, but I could sense the excitement. This was what we’d been waiting for.
Ash stood at the helm, hands steady on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Calm as always, he was as ready for this as I was. He didn’t need to say it—I could see it in the way he stood, already thinking two steps ahead.
“We should follow the current until we hit open water,” I said, glancing at the map and the live feed from the Hawk’s Eye Tablet. The adamantine bird was soaring above, giving us a clear view of the river and the forest along its edges. "Once we’re out of the river, we can take a more direct route to the island."
Ash nodded. That’s what I appreciated about him—he understood immediately.
Off to the side, Artyom was carefully painting the ship with his Guardian’s Brush, blending The Rogue Wave into the water, its form almost disappearing into the horizon.
“Pretty slick,” I commented, admiring his work. “No one’s going to spot us in this thing.”
Artyom grinned, but his focus remained on the brushstrokes. “That’s the plan,” he replied, his movements precise.
Sirisi leaned against the railing, gazing out over the calm water with a small, peaceful smile. “It’s quiet out here,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “Feels like we’ve got the whole ocean to ourselves.”
Ash glanced her way, the faintest smile touching his lips. “Yeah, it’s nice to have some peace for once.”
Evening: Flag Presentation
As the evening sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the deck, we gathered near the helm. Ash remained at his post, hands steady on the wheel as he guided The Rogue Wave through the calm waters. Artyom stood in front of us, carefully holding a folded flag in his hands. With deliberate care, he unfurled it—a golden background with four green maple leaves arranged in a circle, framed by a laurel wreath at the bottom.
I squinted at the design and grinned. “So, Ash gets to be at the top again, huh?” I motioned to the highest leaf. “Big surprise.”
Sirisi, leaning against the railing near the helm, chuckled. “Looks like you’re king of the flag, Ash.”
Ash, still at the helm, glanced over, a small smile tugging at his lips. He understood the teasing was all in good fun. “Seems fair,” he said with a grin, turning his focus back to the horizon. The smile stayed on his face, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment without losing his calm demeanor.
Artyom shook his head, still smiling. “That’s not it. Look closer.”
I leaned in, studying the leaves more carefully. “They’re all the same size.”
“Exactly,” Artyom explained. “It’s not about who’s at the top. The leaves are equal. We make decisions together. Sure, Ash steps up when needed, but we all have a role, and this flag shows that.”
His words made me pause. He was right. That’s how it had always been. But I couldn’t help remembering the time we crossed into Felderia. That was one of the times Ash had led us into something bigger than we expected. We’d captured Queen Celia herself, and when we brought her back across the border, Uncle Masdrin had been waiting. He was furious.
I could still hear his voice when he turned to Ash. “Do you think you’d be so brave, so ready to lead your cousins into danger without that weapon?” he’d asked, right before he threw Ash’s crossbow pistol into the fire.
But Ash had stood tall, his voice steady when he responded. “If I felt it was needed of me and they were willing to follow, I would lead them just like I did tonight.”
That was Ash. It wasn’t about control or power. He led because we trusted him. He led because he’d carry the weight, and he knew we’d follow if we needed to. Looking at the flag now, I got it. We weren’t just a team. We were a circle, always moving forward together.
Night Routine on the Ship
As the last light of the day faded, we realized we needed to figure out our night routine. The waters were calm, but we couldn’t drift through the night without someone keeping watch.
“Korlis will stay on deck tonight,” Ash said, running a hand through the griffon’s feathers. “He’ll watch over us, but we should still take shifts.”
I nodded. Normally, our birds—Blaze, Nimbus, Aurelia, and Titan—were with us, but this time it was just Korlis. Even in his smaller form, his presence was reassuring.
“I’ll take first shift,” Ash said.
When Ash woke me after his shift, the night was calm. Stars stretched endlessly above us, and the only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull. I took my place at the helm and activated the Hawk’s Eye Tablet, sending the adamantine bird back into the sky. The screen flickered to life, showing nothing but peaceful waters all around us.
It was almost too peaceful. As I stood there, a whale broke the surface in the distance, its massive body arcing gracefully before disappearing back into the depths. I smiled to myself. After everything, it was moments like these that reminded me of how vast the world truly was.
Eventually, I went below deck to wake Sirisi for her watch. She blinked at me, still half-asleep.
“Your turn,” I said.
She stretched and yawned. “Anything interesting?”
I smiled. “Keep your eyes open.”
DAY 2: THE UNUSUAL STORM
The morning started calm, but by mid-morning, something felt off. The wind shifted, and dark clouds gathered on the horizon, moving fast. Something about the storm felt... wrong.
Ash stood at the helm, his eyes narrowing as he watched the storm approach. Without hesitation, he buckled the safety tether around his waist and clipped it securely to the railing. He wasn’t going to take any chances—not with a storm like this.
The first waves hit hard, and the ship lurched violently beneath us. “Below deck!” Ash shouted over the growing roar of the wind. “Buckle in!”
Sirisi, Artyom, and I rushed below, securing ourselves in the cabin. Korlis, now in his smaller form, huddled in the corner, his wings tucked tight, alert but unable to help in the middle of the storm’s fury.
I wasn’t going to just sit there. “I’m going to use the Hawk’s Eye Tablet to see what’s going on,” I said, turning to Sirisi and Artyom. “This storm isn’t normal.”
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Artyom glanced through the porthole next to the door, his brow furrowing as he caught sight of Ash out there. “Poor Ash,” he muttered. “He’s out there, getting hammered by the storm. He’s grinning like it’s nothing, but you can see it in his eyes. He’s fighting hard to keep us steady.”
Sirisi nodded, closing her eyes and placing a hand lightly on her temple. “I’ll help him focus,” she said. “He’ll need clarity to keep control of the ship.”
I quickly opened the porthole just enough to send the adamantine bird into the storm, then slammed it shut and latched it tight.
The tablet flickered to life in my hands, but the images were jumbled—lightning, massive waves, everything chaotic. “This isn’t normal,” I muttered, scanning the screen. The storm’s energy was distorting the feed. Something about it was wrong, unnatural.
The ship lurched again, and I braced myself, shouting loud enough to be heard over the storm. “Ash! There’s something off about this storm!”
Through the porthole, I could see Ash gripping the wheel, his body secured by the tether, rain pouring down on him. Despite the storm’s fury, there was a grin on his face, and he was mouthing the words to some sea shanty to keep his nerves steady. But his eyes told a different story. The tension was there—he was working hard to keep the ship on course, fighting against the storm with everything he had.
Sirisi’s psionics were helping him focus, sharpening his mind as the storm raged on. I glanced at the tablet again, but the storm was overwhelming even the adamantine bird. The images were scattered, blurred by the intensity of the wind and waves. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t just bad weather.
Korlis let out a low growl from the corner, feathers ruffled as the ship shuddered. He couldn’t help in a storm like this, but he was alert, waiting for the moment he might be needed.
“This storm isn’t right,” I said to Artyom and Sirisi. “Something’s off.”
Artyom nodded grimly, gripping the edge of the table. “Yeah, it doesn’t feel right at all.”
When the storm finally passed, we all made our way back on deck, expecting damage. Ash stood near the helm, wiping his brow, though the calm had returned to his features. The storm had pushed him—and the ship—to the limit.
I made my way below deck, heading straight for the engine. Ash had put the controls and the engine through their paces to keep us steady. The engine room was warm, the magic humming as it pulsed through the ship’s systems. A couple of gauges were off, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I thought back to what Dad had taught me, making a few adjustments, and soon the readings were back in the green.
I let out a breath of relief. The engine had held, just like the rest of us. We’d made it through the storm.
DAY 3: THE CHASE
The next morning, the skies were clear, but something still felt off. As we sailed further into the open sea, I spotted sails on the horizon—three ships, closing in fast. Pirates.
“They won’t catch us,” Ash said calmly from the helm, but I activated the Hawk’s Eye Tablet anyway, sending the adamantine bird toward the ships to scout them out. The bird flew high, circling above, and I watched the screen closely. They had full sails catching the wind, but they were no match for The Rogue Wave.
Still, I wasn’t taking any chances. “Three ships,” I called out to Ash, my eyes fixed on the tablet’s feed. “But they’re not going to be a problem.”
Ash didn’t respond immediately, his focus on the helm, but Korlis let out a sharp screech, sensing the tension. Ash nodded at the griffon, slipping the command ring onto his finger. With a single stroke through Korlis’ feathers, the griffon expanded to his full size and took to the air, flying swiftly toward the pirate ships.
As Korlis soared out of sight, I expected us to keep speeding ahead, but instead, Ash adjusted the ship's course. With calm precision, he slowed The Rogue Wave down and started a wide, gradual circle, keeping the pirate ships at a safe distance behind us.
“We’ll hold position,” Ash said over his shoulder, eyes still on the horizon. “No sense leaving Korlis behind. We’ll stay close enough for him to catch up.”
I nodded in agreement, watching as the ship coasted along in a broad arc, maintaining a comfortable distance while Korlis did his work.
Through the tablet, I kept an eye on the battle. Korlis dove toward the pirate ships, his talons slicing through their sails like paper. One ship, then another, until all three were dead in the water, their sails shredded and useless. The pirates were left stranded, their ships floating helplessly in the vast ocean.
Ash glanced at me after I lowered the tablet. “Too bad we couldn’t capture one of those ships,” he said with a smirk.
Artyom, working with his fishing gear, snorted. “Yeah, because we really need an entire fleet of pirate ships for our adventures.”
Sirisi chuckled from her spot by the railing, the wind lightly tousling her hair. “Just imagine—‘The Adventurers’ Armada,’ a fleet of sleek pirate ships cruising the seas.”
I couldn’t help but grin at the absurdity of it all. “And Ash at the helm of every single one of them.”
Ash’s smile grew, but he shook his head. “Maybe one ship is enough for now.”
We all laughed, knowing none of us were seriously considering taking the pirates' vessels. The idea of us managing an entire fleet was ridiculous—but that didn’t make it any less amusing.
“Korlis is done,” I called out to Ash, watching the griffon soar back toward us on the tablet’s feed. “He’s on his way back.”
Ash adjusted the ship’s speed, slowing even more to let Korlis catch up. Moments later, the massive griffon swooped down, landing gracefully back on the deck, feathers ruffling in the sea breeze.
As Korlis returned, Artyom, already prepared with his fishing gear, cast his line into the water. His movements were steady and deliberate, like everything he did. It wasn’t long before he hooked something big—an amberjack. The fish fought hard, thrashing in the water, but Artyom’s strength made it look easy.
I watched as he reeled it in smoothly, pulling the large amberjack onto the deck. Without missing a beat, he handed the fish to Korlis, who tore into it eagerly. The griffon’s sharp beak and talons made quick work of the meal, his satisfied rumble echoing across the deck.
Artyom wasn’t done, though. After making sure Korlis was fed, he cast his line again. The second amberjack took a bit longer to reel in, but when he finally pulled it aboard, Artyom gave me a knowing look. He always knew when we had just enough.
He set to work immediately, preparing the second fish for us. Artyom moved with practiced ease, expertly cleaning and filleting the amberjack right there on the deck. Soon, the smell of fresh fish cooking drifted through the air, and by the time the evening came, we gathered around the table for dinner. The meal was simple but perfect, the fresh taste of the sea filling the cabin as we ate in comfortable silence.
For a few moments, everything felt calm again, the earlier chaos with the pirates long behind us.
DAY 4: THE FOG AND ARRIVAL AT THE ISLAND
The morning felt different. I woke up to a strange stillness, the kind that makes your skin crawl. The sea, once full of life and energy, had been swallowed by a thick, suffocating fog. It clung to the ship and everything around us, turning the world into an endless gray. Even the sound of the waves felt muted, like the ocean itself had fallen silent.
Ash was already at the helm, his sharp eyes scanning the mist ahead. I could see the tension in his posture, the way his hands tightened on the wheel. “This doesn’t feel right,” he muttered, more to himself than to us.
He was right. Fog this thick didn’t just happen. Not naturally, at least.
I pulled out the Hawk’s Eye Tablet and activated it, sending the adamantine bird soaring into the air. If the fog was hiding something, maybe the bird could cut through it. But as I watched the screen, all I saw was swirling mist, endless and impenetrable.
“Nothing,” I said, my fingers hovering over the tablet. “The bird’s as blind as we are.”
Sirisi stood near the railing, her fingers grazing the wood of the ship, her eyes distant. “It’s not just fog,” she murmured. “I can feel... something else. It’s heavier than that.” She didn’t need to explain further. She was always better at sensing things beyond the physical world.
Artyom was at the bow, his usual calm confidence radiating from him. “We’ve come too far to turn back now,” he said, his voice steady. “Whatever’s ahead, we’re facing it.”
He was right. There was no turning back now.
Ash’s jaw tightened, and I could tell he was weighing options in his head. He wasn’t one to rush into things without a plan. “We’ll slow down,” he decided, keeping his voice low but firm. “Better to be careful.”
The ship’s pace eased as he pulled back the throttle, The Rogue Wave creeping forward through the thick fog. The steam engine’s hum was the only sound breaking the eerie silence. It felt like we were drifting through another world, the mist wrapping around us like it wanted to pull us in.
Minutes dragged on, and my nerves were stretched thin. The fog was relentless, smothering everything in sight. But then, without warning, it started to lift. One moment, everything was gray; the next, the fog thinned, revealing the sea beneath us in all its brilliance.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. The water below was crystal clear, and as the last of the mist vanished, coral reefs appeared, vibrant and full of life. Schools of colorful fish darted through the reefs, their scales shimmering in the sunlight that had broken through the clouds.
“Look at that,” Artyom said, leaning over the railing, his voice filled with wonder. I couldn’t help but agree. It was breathtaking, the kind of sight you don’t see often. The kind that makes you forget, even for just a moment, what kind of dangers could be waiting.
Sirisi’s eyes widened as she took it all in. “It’s like a completely different world,” she said softly.
The tension in the air had lifted, replaced by an almost peaceful stillness. I found myself relaxing, just a little. We’d made it through the fog, and now there was something beautiful to take in.
“There’s a beach ahead,” I called out, pointing toward the shore. Beyond the reefs, a stretch of sandy beach came into view, framed by tall palm trees and thick jungle. It looked calm enough, but there was still a sense of mystery hanging over the place. We couldn’t get too comfortable.
Ash steered us toward the beach, his hands steady on the wheel. “We’ll beach the ship here,” he said, his voice more relaxed now that the fog was gone. “It’ll be easier to shrink it once we’re on solid ground.”
As we approached the shore, I felt the tension creep back. The coral reefs were beautiful, sure, but there was no telling what was waiting for us inland. Ash brought the ship in carefully, the hull skimming over the water until it nestled gently onto the sand. The boat settled smoothly, and we stepped off onto solid ground for the first time in days.
I glanced back at the ship. "We should shrink it now," I said, keeping my eyes on the beach ahead. “No telling what we’ll find further in, and we need to be mobile.”
Ash nodded, uttering the command word that would shrink The Rogue Wave down. “Veldyth” He said and I watched as the boat, which had carried us through everything so far, began to condense, its form shrinking until it was no larger than a model.
Artyom was already stepping forward before anyone else could. “I’ll carry it,” he said, grabbing the miniature ship and tucking it into his pack with ease. It made sense—Artyom was always the one to carry the heavy stuff. But now, the weight barely seemed to bother him. "No need for you to take it," he added with a grin, knowing full well none of us were going to argue.
Before we ventured any further, Ash turned back to us. “Check your gear,” he said, his tone serious. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
I reached for my brass knuckles, Bonk, slipping them onto my hands. The cold metal hummed with energy, and I felt the familiar surge of magic flow through me. I glanced over at Ash, who was spinning his House De’Endar Dagger in his hand before sheathing it. He gave a brief check to the House De’Endar Pistol at his side, his eyes scanning the beach ahead as if waiting for something to jump out.
Artyom tested the weight of Sentinel, his enchanted cricket bat, with a few easy swings. He seemed more at ease, his grip sure. The Guardian’s Brush was secured in his satchel, ready if needed. Sirisi, meanwhile, stood a bit apart, her hand lightly touching the psionic runes on Spectra. Her staff pulsed with a faint, deep crimson glow as she prepared herself for whatever might come next.
I could feel the weight of the unknown settling in again as we looked toward the jungle ahead. We had made it through the fog, but this island felt like it was holding something back, waiting for us to step further.
Artyom broke the silence. “What now?”
Ash didn’t hesitate. “We move forward. Stay close, and keep your eyes open.”
We started walking toward the tree line, the bright beauty of the beach fading behind us as the shadows of the island’s mysteries loomed ahead. Whatever was waiting for us, I had a feeling we were about to find out.
CHAPTER 5: THE TREASURE HUNT
DAY ONE: NAVIGATING TRAPS AND PITFALLS
The thick humidity of the island weighed heavily on my wings as we pushed deeper into the dense jungle. Korlis flew overhead, his red eyes scanning the horizon for danger. Ash was leading us, his eyes sharp and focused as always, but even he didn’t catch everything. Sirisi walked beside him, her senses wide open, scanning for anything hidden beneath the thick undergrowth. Artyom followed behind me, his quiet strength a constant, steadying presence. We hadn’t spoken much since we left the boat, but there was no need to. We all felt it—the island was waiting for us.
We’d been walking for hours when Sirisi suddenly grabbed Ash’s arm, her grip tight.
“Stop,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ash froze mid-step, his boot hovering inches above the ground. His amber and red eyes flicked to Sirisi, questioning but trusting her instincts. She knelt down, her hand hovering just above the ground, brushing aside some of the leaves and dirt.
“There’s something here,” she murmured, revealing a concealed pit hidden just below the surface.
I crouched beside her, my eyes widening at the sight of the spike pit beneath us. Wooden stakes, sharpened to deadly points, lined the bottom. Even though it wasn’t deep enough to be bottomless, it was deep enough to be lethal. One wrong step would have sent Ash tumbling in, impaled before he even hit the bottom.
Ash exhaled slowly, stepping back. “Good catch.”
I frowned, already thinking through how we were going to deal with it. “We can’t just leave it here. If we need to retreat, this could be a death trap.”
Ash nodded, stepping to the side to give us room to work. “Agreed. Can you burn the stakes?”
I knelt at the edge of the pit, concentrating on the dry wooden spikes below. Summoning the heat from my core, I directed the fire carefully, letting it catch on the stakes without spreading beyond the pit. The wood went up quickly, turning to ash in a matter of moments.
When the stakes were nothing more than smoldering debris, I glanced at Ash. “Spikes are gone, but the hole’s still dangerous. We should collapse it.”
Ash motioned to Artyom, who stepped forward, pulling Sentinel off his back—his trusty cricket bat. With a few solid strikes, Artyom broke apart the edges of the pit, collapsing the ground and filling in the hole until it was safe enough to pass over.
“Well done,” Ash said, brushing the dirt off his hands. His eyes scanned the path ahead. “Let’s keep moving. There’ll be more where that came from.”
For the next few hours, we encountered more traps. Pressure plates were hidden beneath layers of dirt and leaves, connected to concealed mechanisms just waiting to trigger. We almost missed one, but Korlis swooped down from above, circling just ahead of us and screeching, warning us of danger.
I knelt down, brushing away the top layer of dirt, and spotted the faint outline of a pressure plate. It was old, but clearly still active. “Pressure plate,” I called out to the others. “Looks like it might trigger something overhead.”
Ash followed my gaze up to the canopy, and sure enough, hidden among the branches was a spiked log—massive and deadly, suspended by ropes, ready to swing down the moment someone triggered the plate.
“I’ll handle this,” I said.
Carefully, I manipulated the pressure plate using a small burst of magic. The log swung down, but with no one in its path, it thudded harmlessly into the ground.
“Safe now,” I said, standing.
“Good work,” Ash replied, motioning us forward.
We hadn’t gone much farther when we encountered a cluster of vines, thick and twisted, stretching across the path. The vines were covered in large, sharp thorns, each one long enough to tear through clothes and skin if someone got too close.
“Watch out for those,” I muttered, pointing to the barbed thorns.
Ash crouched down near the base of the vines, frowning. “These don’t look like ordinary vines.” His eyes flicked toward a patch of dead leaves beneath the vines. “Everything under here is withered and dying.”
I noticed it too—the plants around the vines were blackened and shriveled, like the life had been drained from them. Sirisi moved closer, her gaze sharpening as she looked closer.
“There’s something on the thorns,” she said, pointing. “Look—the sap.”
We all saw it then—tiny droplets of dark sap clinging to the thorns. The sap oozed slowly along the vines, thick and viscous. “Poison,” Sirisi said. “That’s what’s killing everything around it.”
Artyom nodded, gripping Sentinel. “I’ll clear them out of the way, but I’m going to need some protection.”
Sirisi raised her hand, forming a psionic shield around Artyom. “This will keep the sap and the thorns from touching you.”
With the shield in place, Artyom stepped forward and swung Sentinel with precision, knocking the vines aside with heavy strikes. Each blow broke through the thick vines, sending chunks of them flying off to the side. The thorns and poisonous sap splattered harmlessly against the jungle floor, safely out of our path. The shield kept him safe from the spray, and soon the vines lay scattered and broken, no longer a threat.
Artyom lowered Sentinel and glanced back at Sirisi. “Thanks for the shield.”
Sirisi nodded, the shield fading as she relaxed. “Anytime.”
After the vines were cleared, Artyom carefully examined Sentinel. A thin layer of sap had smeared across its surface. He frowned, reaching down to gather a handful of thick leaves and some moss from the jungle floor.
“This’ll do,” he said quietly, wiping down the bat with the natural materials. The moss and leaves absorbed the sap, which he discarded at the base of the poisonous vines where it would decompose naturally.
Ash watched as Artyom finished, then nodded in approval. “Good call. Better than carrying that stuff with us.”
Artyom gave Sentinel one last look to make sure it was clean. “That should take care of it. Let’s move on.”
The island didn’t let up. Just as we thought we had a rhythm going, I spotted another trap—a thin, nearly invisible line stretched between two trees. It was barely a hair’s width, but I knew exactly what it was for.
“Dart trap,” I muttered, stepping carefully around it to get a better look.
Ash knelt beside me, his eyes narrowing. “That’ll send a volley of darts our way if we trip it.”
“Poisoned, most likely,” I added, already calculating how to disarm it.
Ash unsheathed his House De'Endar Dagger, its sleek black blade gleaming in the dappled light. He reached out carefully, observing the taut tripwire. The wire was connected to a hidden pin mechanism—if pulled, it would release and activate the dart launcher.
With precise care, Ash cut the wire close to the base of the tree, making sure it didn’t pull the pin and trigger the trap. The tension released harmlessly as the wire went slack, leaving the launcher inactive.
“That takes care of it,” Ash said, watching as the dart launcher remained still, the darts tucked safely inside.
EVENING AT CAER MISTWOOD
By the time the sun began to set, we were physically and mentally exhausted. Ash pulled out the enchanted coin—Caer Mistwood. With a flick of his wrist, the magical cottage sprang to life, appearing nestled among the trees as if it had always been there.
I exhaled in relief as we stepped inside. The warm glow of the woodstove lit the space, and I watched as Artyom, ever the reliable one, started preparing dinner. He gathered the dried vegetables and salted meat we had brought along, putting together a simple but hearty stew over the stove. The smell filled the room, making my stomach growl.
As the stew simmered, Artyom pulled out a small pouch of flour and began mixing up a batch of bannock. I watched as he skillfully kneaded the dough, his strong hands working it with ease. He placed the dough in a cast-iron skillet, propping it up on the woodstove’s edge.
“I figured some fresh bannock would go well with the stew,” he said, glancing up at us with a grin. “It’s nothing fancy, but it'll do.”
Ash nodded appreciatively. “Good thinking.”
The bannock sizzled as it cooked, filling the cabin with a comforting aroma. It was a small luxury after the day we’d had, but one that lifted our spirits. When the bread was golden brown, Artyom pulled it off the stove and cut it into wedges, handing out pieces to each of us.
We sat around the trestle table, dipping the bannock into the rich stew. The combination of the warm, buttery bread and the savory soup was exactly what we needed after a long day of navigating traps. I could feel the tension easing from my muscles with each bite.
When we were done eating, Artyom glanced toward Korlis, who had been curled up near the door, his red eyes half-open as he kept watch. The griffon hadn't joined us at the table, but that didn’t mean we’d forgotten about him.
Artyom ladled out the leftover stew into a bowl and carried it over. “Here you go, Korlis,” he said, setting it down on the floor.
Korlis lifted his head and gave a soft chirp of appreciation before moving toward the bowl. He ate with slow, careful bites, his sharp beak clinking softly against the bowl as he finished what was left. We all watched for a moment, smiling at the sight of our companion being cared for. He’d earned it, keeping watch over us all day.
We sat back down around the table in comfortable silence. I could tell we were all reflecting on the day’s dangers, mentally preparing for what tomorrow might bring.
“We made good progress,” Ash finally said, breaking the silence. His tone was calm but determined. “But we’ll have to stay sharp. Tomorrow’s going to be harder.”
I glanced over at Korlis again, who had returned to his spot near the door after finishing his meal. His red eyes were still half-open but watchful, always ready to protect us.
“We’ll be ready,” I said, though I could still feel the exhaustion from the day’s challenges weighing on me.
As I finished my bowl of stew and the last bite of bannock, I glanced over at Sirisi. She leaned back in her chair and stretched, glancing out the window.
“Feels good to be making progress,” she said, her voice easy but thoughtful. “We handled today pretty well.”
I nodded, relaxing a bit. “Yeah. The traps were nasty, but nothing we couldn’t manage.”
Ash leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Tomorrow’s going to be interesting,” he said. “We’re getting closer.”
We didn’t need to say more. Whatever the island was hiding, we’d face it together, like we always did.
DAY TWO – ENCOUNTERING THE PIRATE CREW
We woke in Caer Mistwood to the soft crackling of the woodstove. Artyom was already at work, stirring a pot of oatmeal on the stove. The smell of bacon sizzling nearby mixed with the sweet scent of the dried berries he’d added to the oatmeal. It was a comforting smell—something that made the cabin feel like home, even out here in the middle of nowhere.
Ash sat at the table, the map spread in front of him, as usual. His focus was entirely on the route ahead. He didn’t look up when I walked over, but I knew he’d already planned out every possibility for the day. That was just how Ash worked.
I stretched my wings and sat down beside him. “Think we’ll hit more traps today?”
Ash’s eyes flicked over the map, not missing a beat. “Definitely. The closer we get, the more likely it is. Whoever set this place up didn’t want anyone getting through.”
From her spot near the window, Sirisi rolled her shoulders, looking out into the jungle beyond. “The traps were only the beginning,” she said, her voice steady. “We’re getting closer to the heart of the island. The cursed crew—they’ll be waiting for us.”
Ash finally glanced up and nodded. “Right. The crew’s not going to let us near the treasure without a fight.”
Artyom turned from the stove, setting bowls of oatmeal and plates of bacon on the table. “Breakfast’s ready,” he said. The oatmeal was hearty, with the berries softened from cooking, giving it a burst of sweetness.
I grabbed a bowl and took a bite. It was exactly what we needed before heading out. Artyom always made sure we were well-fed, even out here in the wild. I looked over at Korlis, who had been sitting patiently by the door, his sharp red eyes watching us.
Ash stood up, noticing too. “Let’s get you outside, Korlis.”
He led the griffon out into the clearing, making sure there was enough space before slipping the silver ring onto his finger. With a gentle stroke along Korlis’ sleek black feathers, the magic activated, and Korlis began to grow. His body expanded smoothly, until he stood tall and majestic, his full wingspan stretching wide.
Ash gave him a light pat on the side. “Go hunt something. We’ll be here when you get back.”
Korlis let out a soft, almost affectionate caw in response, then launched into the sky with a powerful flap of his wings, disappearing above the trees.
I turned back to Ash as we finished eating. “What about when we reach the treasure? The legend didn’t say anything about what happens after we get past the crew.”
Ash leaned back, considering it. “We’ll figure that out when we get there. The important thing is getting through whatever defenses they’ve left behind. Whoever cursed them didn’t want anyone getting close.”
We finished breakfast in a comfortable silence, each of us running through what might come next. The Pirate King’s curse weighed on our minds, but we’d made it this far. Whatever was waiting, we were ready for it.
The humidity hung in the air as we moved deeper into the jungle, and the path ahead grew more tangled with thick vines and overgrowth. Eventually, we came to a wide ravine. The remnants of an old bridge lay scattered and crumbling where it had collapsed long ago. The drop was steep, far too dangerous to even attempt crossing by foot.
Ash crouched at the edge of the ravine, his eyes scanning the gap. “Looks like we’re flying.”
Without hesitation, I flexed my wings and took off, gliding effortlessly across the ravine. The wind rushed past me as I landed lightly on the other side. “All clear here,” I called back.
Korlis returned from his hunt just in time, landing gracefully beside me. He gave a short, satisfied caw, as if to signal everything was in order. After quickly scanning the area, Korlis flew back across the ravine to carry Artyom.
With a smooth leap, Artyom climbed onto Korlis’ back, holding on lightly as the griffon flew them both across in one fluid motion. They landed safely beside me, and Artyom gave Korlis a pat in thanks.
Korlis didn’t waste time. He flew back again to pick up Ash and Sirisi, carrying them across in one easy flight. They landed, regrouped with the rest of us, and we continued into the heart of the island, the tension in the air thickening with every step.
The air grew heavy as we ventured deeper into the island, an eerie silence pressing down on us. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it—a kind of tension, a weight that made my skin prickle. We slowed down, instinctively moving more carefully. Then I saw them.
The first figure rose from the sand—a skeleton, bones yellowed by time, its eyes nothing but empty hollows. It pulled a rusted cutlass from the ground, and more followed, clawing their way out of the earth. One by one, they stood, skeletal remains armed with broken weapons. This was the Pirate King’s crew, cursed to guard his treasure.
“Korlis!” Ash barked, and our griffon let out a sharp caw before leaping into the air, giving us space to react.
Ash moved first, raising his House De'Endar Pistol, which was already loaded with tranquilizer rounds as usual. He fired several darts into the approaching skeletons, each one hitting its mark with precision—but the skeletons kept advancing. The darts did nothing. They didn’t slow, didn’t falter. They just kept coming, bones rattling with each step.
“It’s not working,” Ash muttered, keeping his cool as he flipped the safety on and rotated the mechanism as far as it would turn before pulling forward on the trigger to eject the tranq rounds. He caught them neatly in his hand and pocketed them. His hand moved swiftly to the forward pouch with the diamond-shaped button on his belt. He retrieved a stripper clip of live bullets, loaded them into the pistol’s internal magazine, and removed the clip before flicking off the safety. Without hesitation, he aimed and fired again.
The first bullet cracked through the air, striking a skeleton in the chest. The bones shattered, the sound of splintering bone echoing through the jungle.
“They won’t stop,” I said, watching as more skeletons crawled from the sand, weapons raised. Their hollow eyes seemed locked on us, unwavering in their purpose.
Ash nodded grimly. “We need to find what’s driving them.”
Korlis swooped down from above, his sharp red eyes fixed on the battlefield. His wings cut through the air as he dove, knocking three skeletons off balance with one powerful strike of his claws. He circled back up, his eyes constantly scanning for openings.
I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar surge of energy run through Bonk, my brass knuckles. I wasn’t going to let these things overwhelm us. I focused, drawing on my magic, and launched a Shadow Bolt at the nearest skeleton. The dark energy crackled as it hit, shattering the bones and sending the remains clattering to the ground.
Sirisi, standing off to the side, narrowed her eyes as she gripped her aspuenyx staff, Spectra. She concentrated for just a moment before unleashing a powerful blast of psionic energy, hitting a group of skeletons at once. Their bones shattered under the impact, but more kept rising to take their place.
Ash switched between firing his pistol and engaging in close combat with his House De'Endar Dagger. The enchanted blade glinted as he sliced through the skeletons with precision. I could see the way the dagger’s magic disoriented them, slowing their movements just enough for the rest of us to strike.
Artyom charged in, wielding Sentinel with brute force. Every swing of his cricket bat sent shockwaves through the air, knocking skeletons off their feet. I watched as he smashed through one after another, his strength undeniable. One skeleton flew into a tree with a loud crack before collapsing into a pile of bones.
But for every skeleton we defeated, another would rise from the ground. They seemed endless, bound to this island by whatever curse had doomed them so long ago.
I dodged an incoming strike from a rusted cutlass and countered with a punch, my knuckles crackling with elemental energy as I struck the skeleton’s ribcage. The bones splintered beneath the force of the hit, and it crumbled at my feet.
“They’re being raised by something!” I called out. “We’ve got to find what’s powering them!”
Ash’s sharp eyes darted around, searching for the source of the magic. “It’s got to be tied to something close. Keep your eyes open!”
As I took to the air to get a better view, I noticed faint lines glowing beneath the sand. Runes—ancient symbols etched into the earth, barely visible but pulsing with a sickly, magical energy.
“There!” I shouted, pointing to the runes. “The runes are keeping them coming! We have to destroy them!”
Sirisi nodded, quickly shifting her focus to the runes. Her psionic energy pulsed as she stretched her abilities, trying to disrupt the magic. I could feel the pressure in the air shift as her power fought against the ancient curse.
The skeletons hesitated for the first time. Their movements slowed, and some even staggered as Sirisi’s energy weakened the magic holding them together.
“Now!” Sirisi called out, her voice tense from the strain.
Ash was ready. He raised his pistol, aimed carefully at the center of the rune markings, and fired. The bullet struck the ground, and for a moment, everything was still.
Then the earth erupted in a blinding flash of light. The runes shattered, and with them, the magic that had been binding the skeletons to this island. The cursed crew froze in place before crumbling into piles of dust and bone, the crew finally put to rest.
We stood there in silence, catching our breath as the oppressive weight in the air lifted. The jungle was still once again.
By the time the last of the skeletons had fallen, the sun was beginning to dip low, casting long shadows through the trees. Exhausted but victorious, we made our way back to the clearing, where Ash summoned Caer Mistwood once more. The familiar cabin appeared, nestled among the trees, its wooden beams glowing warmly in the fading light.
Inside, Artyom set to work at the woodstove, preparing a simple meal of vegetable soup with dumplings. The savory smell filled the cabin, a welcome comfort after the intense battle we’d just survived. Korlis, now back to his smaller size, settled near the door, his eyes half-closed but still alert.
We ate in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. The battle had been close, but we’d made it through. I could still feel the tension in my muscles, the weight of the fight lingering, but the warmth of the soup and the familiar sounds of the cabin helped ease the strain.
Ash finally spoke, his voice steady but quiet. “We handled today well. But we’re not done. Tomorrow will be tougher.”
I nodded, glancing at the map still spread out on the table. “Whatever’s ahead, we’ll face it together.”
The woodstove crackled softly as we settled in for the night, the warmth and safety of the cabin wrapping around us like a shield from the dangers outside. Whatever awaited us tomorrow, we’d be ready.
DAY THREE – THE PIRATE KING’S CHALLENGE
We woke early in Caer Mistwood, the morning air still cool, and the smell of last night’s fire lingering faintly. Artyom was already up, pulling supplies from his pack. Though we’d been on this island for a few days, we hadn’t run low on food thanks to careful planning.
He set out a small spread on the table: cured meats, some slices of cheese, and herbed biscuits that we’d packed. There was even a jar of preserved fruit that Artyom had carefully stored to last the trip. It was simple, but better than the rations some adventurers would carry.
“Looks like we’re still doing well,” Artyom said with a grin as he sliced the cured meat into even pieces. “Plenty to go around.”
We sat around the table, each of us grabbing a bit of food. Ash picked up a slice of cheese and stacked it on top of a biscuit, his eyes drifting toward the window. “I can’t say why, but it feels like we’re close,” he said quietly, his eyes narrowing. “Today could be the day.”
Sirisi looked out at the jungle beyond the window, her gaze focused. “The air feels heavier,” she said softly, her eyes narrowing. “It’s as if something’s waiting for us out there.” She took a bite of her herbed biscuit, though her attention was clearly elsewhere.
I bit into one of the preserved fruit slices, savoring the sweet burst of flavor. A quiet tension settled over us. Though no one said it outright, we all felt it: the Pirate King was near. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe the island itself was giving us some subtle sign. Whatever it was, we were ready.
Korlis was sitting near us, his feathers and fur ruffled as he rested on the floor by the table. He glanced around, his sharp red eyes alert as he watched us prepare for the day. Even he seemed to sense that we were nearing the end of this journey.
Once we finished eating, Ash stood, adjusting the straps on his holster. He walked over to the woodstove and reached for the coin that rested on top, the one that controlled Caer Mistwood. With a firm grip, he lifted the coin, and the magic of the cabin began to fade, the walls dissolving back into the enchanted air.
“Let’s move out,” Ash said as the last of the cabin vanished. “The Pirate King is waiting.”
We moved deeper into the jungle, the air growing heavier with each step. The path ahead was lined with twisted vines and jagged rocks, and the sense of danger was impossible to ignore. Every one of us felt it—this was the final stretch.
Korlis circled above, his sharp eyes scanning the terrain as we closed in on the cavern. The silence was thick, broken only by the sound of our boots crunching over the ground. Even the jungle seemed to hold its breath.
The path finally opened into a wide, shadowed clearing. And there, seated atop a massive pile of gold, jewels, and relics, was the Pirate King.
He was a skeletal figure, his bones draped in decayed pirate garb, but there was a regal air about him—a sense of authority that death hadn’t taken from him. His hollow eyes glowed faintly, and he sat as if waiting for us. There was no movement at first, but I could feel his gaze on us, cold and calculating.
Korlis landed beside us, his talons digging into the ground. He let out a low caw, his red eyes sharp as ever, focused on the figure before us.
“We’ve found him,” Ash said, his voice low and tense. “The Pirate King.”
That’s when we readied our weapons.
Ash’s hand moved to his House De'Endar Pistol, already loaded with real bullets. He drew it from its holster, his expression focused and calm as his eyes locked on the Pirate King.
Beside him, Sirisi gripped Spectra, her Aspuenyx Staff, the psionic energy from the weapon humming faintly as she prepared for whatever was to come. Her gaze didn’t waver from the figure on the treasure pile.
I flexed my wings and tightened my grip on Bonk, feeling the elemental energy from my Brass Knuckles ripple through me, ready to be called upon at any moment.
Artyom lifted Sentinel, his enchanted cricket bat, and adjusted his stance. His muscles tensed, and I could see the weight of the situation reflected in his eyes.
We were ready.
The Pirate King didn’t move at first, but his hollow eyes flickered as he slowly rose from his seat atop the treasure. His voice, when it came, was hollow, but there was no malice in it.
“You come seeking my treasure, like so many before,” he rasped, his skeletal hand resting on the hilt of his cutlass. “My crew—they’ve already fallen. You’ve bested them… but I remain.”
His eyes glowed faintly as he surveyed us, the flicker of old, smoldering resentment behind them. “They betrayed me, my own crew. We were cursed together, bound to this island for their greed. Now, I alone guard this treasure.”
He raised his cutlass, pointing it toward us—not as an attack, but as a challenge. “You’ve proven your strength, but if you want my treasure, you’ll have to prove your worth once more. Only by defeating me can this curse be broken.”
Ash glanced at us, his expression firm. I could see the weight of the Pirate King’s words hanging over all of us. This wasn’t just about treasure anymore—it was about putting a wronged soul to rest.
Ash nodded. “We accept your challenge.”
The Pirate King’s hollow eyes flickered as he acknowledged Ash’s words. “Very well,” he rasped, lowering his cutlass into a defensive stance. “Let it be known that if you win, you do so with honor.”
With that, the battle began.
Korlis was the first to move. With a powerful beat of his wings, he took to the air, circling above the Pirate King. His red eyes locked onto the skeleton’s movements, and as the Pirate King lunged forward, Korlis swooped down, talons aimed straight for him.
Just as Korlis struck, a shimmering magical barrier flickered to life around the Pirate King, deflecting the attack with a crackling burst of energy. Korlis let out an angry caw as he veered away, circling back to avoid a retaliatory strike.
“He’s shielded!” Ash called, his eyes narrowing. “We need to find a way to break it.”
The Pirate King’s hollow laughter echoed through the cavern. “You think you can defeat me? Your journey ends here.”
Without warning, the Pirate King blinked, vanishing from his spot. He reappeared a second later, directly in front of Artyom, swinging his cutlass with a swift, deadly arc. Artyom barely blocked the attack with Sentinel, the force of the blow sending him stumbling backward.
The Pirate King blinked again, reappearing behind Sirisi. She turned just in time to raise Spectra, sending out a psionic wave that slammed into his barrier, but his form shimmered and vanished again.
“He’s too fast!” Sirisi shouted, frustration in her voice as she glanced around.
I clenched my fists, channeling the elemental energy into my Brass Knuckles. “We have to pin him down!”
Ash fired his pistol, the bullets striking the Pirate King’s barrier as he blinked to a new position, his cutlass raised. Each shot ricocheted off the shield, causing it to shimmer but never break.
“Keep hitting him! He can’t blink forever!” Ash shouted, taking another shot as the Pirate King blinked across the battlefield.
Korlis let out a defiant caw, swooping low, attempting to cut off the Pirate King’s path. But the Pirate King blinked just as Korlis closed in. A second later, he reappeared mid-strike, this time landing a hit against Korlis with a burst of dark energy. Korlis screeched in pain as he was knocked from the sky, crashing onto the cavern floor.
“Korlis!” I yelled, rushing toward him as the Pirate King blinked behind me. His cutlass whistled through the air, forcing me to roll to the side just as the blade cut into the stone where I had been standing.
Artyom gritted his teeth, swinging Sentinel in a wide arc, aiming for the Pirate King’s legs. “We need to trap him!”
Sirisi focused, her eyes glowing as her psionic energy hummed through Spectra. “I’m going to lock him down! Cover me!”
She thrust her staff forward, sending a wave of telekinetic force toward the Pirate King. He blinked to dodge it, but this time, she anticipated his movement. Sirisi redirected the psionic blast midair, slamming it into the Pirate King just as he reappeared.
The force knocked him off balance, and the barrier around him flickered violently.
“Now!” Ash shouted. He raised his pistol and fired, the bullets tearing into the weakened barrier. Bonk crackled with energy in my hands as I launched a shadow bolt toward the Pirate King, the dark energy striking his chest and pushing him back.
Artyom charged in, delivering a crushing blow with Sentinel that finally shattered the shield, sending shards of energy scattering through the air.
The Pirate King let out a guttural snarl as his protection failed. His hollow eyes flickered with rage as he raised his cutlass high, preparing to unleash another wave of dark magic.
But it was too late. With a final, determined look, Ash fired one last shot, the bullet hitting the Pirate King square in the chest. Sirisi sent another psionic blast, and I delivered the finishing blow with a powerful shadow bolt.
The Pirate King’s skeletal form shuddered and began to crumble. His hollow eyes dimmed, and his voice, now soft, filled the cavern.
“I… should have never… approached that cursed ship…,” he rasped, his bones crumbling into dust. “I tried to be… a good captain… thank you…”
With a final breath, the Pirate King dissolved into the air, leaving only the treasure he had guarded for so long.
The cavern fell silent, leaving us with the sight of the Pirate King’s treasure. Piles of gold coins, jewels, and silver goblets filled the space, glittering faintly under the dim light. The hoard was immense—more than we could ever imagine taking with us.
Ash moved first, eyes sweeping over the treasure with a cautious gaze. “We can’t take everything,” he said, his tone level. “Let’s be smart. Gold, jewels—anything we can carry without slowing us down.”
I crouched near a pile of coins, letting them slip through my fingers. “We could fund a hundred adventures with just this,” I said, flipping a coin into the air and catching it.
Sirisi picked up a jeweled goblet, its surface encrusted with rubies. “This is more than just treasure,” she said softly. “These are relics—pieces of history.”
As we began selecting what to take, Ash wandered further into the treasure. His eyes narrowed as he spotted something—a faint shimmer of magic. A backpack, half-buried under the gold. He picked it up, brushing off the dust and coins.
He felt a magical aura and drew his House De'Endar Dagger. The blade pulsed faintly as it sensed the enchantment on the pack.
Ash’s expression changed as the dagger fed him the knowledge of what he was holding. “This isn’t just any pack,” he said, walking back toward us. “It’s a Magnificent Mulepack. The main compartment can hold ten cubic meters of stuff, and the side pouches can each hold about a cubic meter. But no matter how much you put in, the pack only weighs five kilograms. And whatever you need will always be right on top.”
Sirisi smiled. “Sounds like it’s perfect for Artyom.”
Artyom grinned, stepping forward. “Why me?”
“Because you’re always the one carrying the heavy stuff,” I said, laughing. “This will make it a lot easier.”
Ash handed the pack to Artyom, who slung it over his shoulder, testing the weight. “This is going to make things a lot easier,” he said with a grin.
At first, we packed the Mulepack cautiously—filling it with coins, jewels, and relics. But as we kept adding more, something became clear: it wasn’t getting any heavier.
“I don’t think we’re anywhere near the limits,” I said, tossing in another handful of coins.
Artyom shifted the pack and nodded. “It’s still light.”
Ash grinned. “We don’t have to leave anything behind. Let’s take it all.”
The careful packing turned into excitement as we realized we could take the entire hoard. We stuffed gold bars, pearls, and ancient relics into the Mulepack, and the pack took it all with ease.
By the time we were done, the once-glistening treasure hoard had been stripped bare, and the Mulepack felt no heavier than when we had started.
As the last of the treasure was disappearing into the Mulepack, Korlis circled above, watching us intently. He had been tireless throughout the adventure, scouting, protecting, and fighting. Now, as we wrapped up, he deserved something for his efforts.
Among the scattered treasures, something caught his eye—a massive golden chain, thick and ornately engraved. It gleamed in the dim light, a relic of the Pirate King’s former wealth and power.
Korlis swooped down, landing near the chain. His sharp eyes glinted with interest as he bent down and carefully lifted the chain with his beak, the gold links shining as they dangled from his grip.
Ash stepped forward, smiling. “Looks like you’ve found your prize, Korlis,” he said, gently taking the chain from the griffon’s beak.
Together, Ash and Sirisi carefully placed the chain over Korlis’ broad neck, adjusting it so that it rested comfortably across his chest like a regal necklace. The golden links shimmered against his feathers, the perfect fit for the majestic creature.
Korlis stood taller, puffing up his chest as the chain settled into place. He let out a soft, approving caw, clearly pleased with his newfound treasure.
“You’ve earned that,” I said with a grin. “It suits you.”
With a final proud caw, Korlis raised his head, the golden chain gleaming as it hung across his chest like a symbol of strength and loyalty. It was a fitting reward for everything he had done.
With the treasure secured and the cavern cleared, we turned our attention to finding a way out. Korlis sniffed the air, his sharp gaze moving toward the far end of the chamber. Sirisi followed his line of sight and noticed a faint glimmer of light seeping through a crevice in the rock, partially obscured by the remaining rubble.
“There’s something back here,” she said, moving toward the source.
Ash followed her, helping to move aside the rubble and revealing a narrow hidden passage cut into the rock.
“I think it leads deeper into the island,” Sirisi said, her voice echoing softly.
We followed the tunnel cautiously, the air growing cooler and the walls damp with moisture. The passage twisted and turned, and after what felt like an eternity, it opened onto a wide ledge. The sound of waves crashing against the shore greeted us, and beyond the ledge, we could see the beach far below.
“I can see the beach,” I said, feeling a rush of relief. “We’re almost there.”
With the treasure secured, we made our way back to the beach. Korlis soared ahead, his new golden chain catching the last rays of sunlight.
At the shore, Artyom pulled the miniaturized Rogue Wave from his Mulepack and waded into the shallow water. With a firm voice, he spoke the command word, “Velduth.” Slowly, the ship expanded, its hull growing until it floated steadily on the gentle waves. The transformation was seamless, and soon, the Rogue Wave sat ready for us. Without wasting any time we climbed aboard.
“Let’s get moving before nightfall,” Ash said from the helm, his eyes already scanning the horizon.
I leaned on the railing as the Rogue Wave steamed forward, cutting cleanly through the water. Ash stood steady at the wheel, focused on guiding us home, always in control.
At the stern, Sirisi was gazing back at the island. “The curse is finally lifted,” she said softly, her hand resting on Spectra.
“Good to be off it,” I said, glad to leave the island behind.
Down below, Artyom hid the Mulepack under his bunk in a secret compartment, securing the treasure. Always methodical, he made sure everything was hidden away before heading back up to join us.
The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the sea. I looked back at the island one last time. “We really did it,” I said with a grin. “We took everything.”
Ash glanced over his shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s head home.”
CHAPTER 6: THE RETURN JOURNEY
Day 1: Departure from the Island
The sun was already setting by the time we loaded the treasure aboard the Rogue Wave. The water was calm, the sea stretching out ahead of us as the island disappeared behind us. It felt good to be leaving—there was something about that place, the weight of the Pirate King’s curse, that I was glad to put behind us.
I leaned against the railing, letting the cool breeze hit my face. Sirisi was quiet, staring out at the horizon like she always does after we finish a big adventure. Artyom didn’t say much either, focused on making sure everything was secure. Even Ash seemed more focused than usual, his hands steady on the wheel.
It was a quiet kind of relief—the job was done, the treasure secured, and we were heading home.
DAY 2: A GLIMPSE INTO THE PAST
The second day of our return journey was peaceful, the gentle hum of The Rogue Wave's magical steam engine barely noticeable as the ship cut through the waves.
The engine, kept finely tuned by Euros, ran so smoothly that it felt like the sea itself was guiding us home. Ash stayed at the helm, while the rest of us scattered across the deck, taking a break after the intensity of the last few days.
At some point, Sirisi pulled out the Pirate King’s journal and began flipping through its worn pages. “There’s another story here,” she said. “Looks like it’s from before everything went wrong for him.”
We all turned our attention to her, curious about what life had been like for the Pirate King before the curse.
Sirisi cleared her throat and began reading:
“The crew’s in good spirits today. We’ve taken a fortune from the trade ships of our enemies and the rich traders who bleed the small towns dry. We leave the rest alone, as always. My crew follows my code, and so far, we’ve kept our word: only take from those who deserve it. They grumble sometimes, especially when we pass up easy marks, but they know better than to question me.
Today, as we sail under clear skies, I feel something close to pride. The men trust me, and they’ve learned that being a pirate doesn’t mean taking everything. It’s about making the right choices, even when it’s harder. I can only hope they hold onto that.”
Sirisi looked up, closing the journal for a moment. “He wasn’t just out for treasure. It sounds like he had a code that meant something to him.”
We all nodded, taking it in. It wasn’t exactly what we expected from a pirate.
“Kind of impressive,” I said, leaning back against the railing. “Keeping a crew of pirates in line with rules like that. Must’ve taken some serious trust.”
Ash glanced over from the helm, his eyes flicking back to the water. “Yeah. But it’s a reminder—you’ve got to be careful who you trust. Trusting the wrong people can cost you everything.”
His tone wasn’t harsh, just thoughtful. He knew that loyalty was fragile, and it could break if you weren’t careful about who you put your faith in.
Artyom crossed his arms, frowning slightly. “It’s hard to imagine how they turned on him after all that. Sounds like they had a good thing going.”
Sirisi nodded, flipping the journal back open. “It makes you wonder what changed. Maybe they got greedy, or maybe they stopped caring about his rules.”
We all fell silent for a moment, the weight of that possibility hanging in the air. It wasn’t hard to see how loyalty could break under the right—or wrong—circumstances.
“I get why he had a code,” Ash said after thinking for a moment. “It’s not just about keeping order—it’s about keeping the right people around you. If you trust the wrong ones, it doesn’t matter how good your code is. Someone’s going to break it.”
His tone wasn’t cold, just thoughtful. He wasn’t saying trust was a bad thing, but more like a reminder that it had to be earned, and you had to be careful who you gave it to.
After we finished talking about the Pirate King, Sirisi gently touched the Vine of Whispering Words wrapped around her wrist. Her eyes closed briefly as she sent a quiet, telepathic message to her mother, Siri.
“Mom, we’re safe. The journey went well, and we’re on our way home.”
The vine faintly glowed as it carried her thoughts, linking her mind to her mother’s, just as it always did. Sirisi opened her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips as the connection faded.
“I didn’t mention the treasure,” she said, her smile turning mischievous. “That’ll be a fun surprise.”
We all grinned, knowing our families would be in for quite a shock when we returned with the haul.
The conversation drifted back and forth between the Pirate King’s life and our own. It was clear that he hadn’t been like most pirates—he had tried to run things differently, with some sense of honor, even if it hadn’t lasted. There was something we could respect about that, even if his story ended badly.
“Funny how much it comes down to choices,” I said, watching the waves churn beneath the ship. “He tried to make the right ones, but in the end, his crew didn’t.”
Ash nodded slightly. “Yeah, well, making the right choice doesn’t always mean things will work out. But you’ve still got to make it.”
We didn’t dwell on the Pirate King’s fate for too long. We had our own journey to focus on, and our bond felt solid. But as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water, we couldn’t help but feel a sense of connection to the man we’d never met.
He’d lived by a code, and in the end, that was something we could understand. Whether you were a pirate or not, you had to make careful choices about who you trusted, and those choices could shape your fate.
Day 3: Encounter with Garyodos
By the third day, the sea was still calm, but something caught my eye. The water rippled ahead of us, and I leaned over the side of the Rogue Wave, squinting at the massive shape moving just beneath the surface. It didn’t take long for me to realize who it was.
“Gary,” I said, grinning as the sea dragon’s massive form came into view. “He’s back.”
Sirisi spotted him next. “There he is! I knew we’d see him again.”
Garyodos, with his shimmering blue and green scales, swam alongside the boat, his huge conch shell shifting as he moved. I couldn’t help but think about the last time we’d seen him—back when he tore through those Felderian ships like they were made of paper. He could’ve taken us out too, but here he was, as gentle as ever.
“He’s even bigger than I remember,” I muttered. Ash smiled, already stepping away from the helm to join us at the side of the boat. “Looks like he’s hungry too. Let’s stop for a bit.”
We didn’t have anywhere to rush to, and none of us were in a hurry to leave. I climbed down to the side of the ship and leaned closer to Garyodos. His eye stalks turned toward me, and I couldn’t help but reach out. His scales were smooth and cool, and I gave him a pat on his head.
Ash grabbed a bit of meat we had left over from breakfast—some cured strips we’d packed for the trip—and tossed it into the water. Garyodos snatched it up with ease, his massive jaws snapping gently around the food. Ash laughed, giving him another piece. “I think he likes it.”
We all laughed at that, and soon we were taking turns feeding Garyodos. Sirisi crouched near the edge, running her fingers over his scales. “I don’t know if you can understand us, Gary, but we’ve got a story for you.”
Artyom tossed him another strip of meat, and Garyodos nudged closer, clearly enjoying himself. Ash was right there with us, laughing as Garyodos stuck his head above the water, clearly hoping for more food. Ash gave him another gentle pat, smiling. “He probably just wants more meat.”
“I like to think he’s interested,” Sirisi said with a grin. “After all, he’s part of our adventures now too.”
We ended up sitting on the side of the boat, taking turns feeding him bits of meat while Sirisi told him about our adventure with the Pirate King. She told the whole story, from the moment we stepped on the island to the battle and the treasure. I don’t know if Garyodos could follow what she was saying, but he seemed to enjoy our company, and especially enjoyed the snacks.
Ash looked like he was having just as much fun as the rest of us, laughing as Garyodos made soft, rumbling sounds in response to the food and attention.
After a while, Garyodos gave a soft rumble, the water vibrating gently beneath him, as if he was content. We stayed with him for a little while longer, until he finally nudged the boat, signaling it was time for us to move on. We all gave him one last pat before climbing back up.
As Mistwood Harbor came into view in the distance, Garyodos dipped beneath the surface, disappearing back into the depths.
“Thanks, Gary,” Sirisi called after him, her voice soft. “See you around.”
DAY 4: SAILING UP THE OAKENBRID RIVER
As we sailed through Mistwood Harbor, the familiar sight of Mistwood’s bustling shores passed by. The cool air off the water carried the smell of pine and fresh river currents as we left the harbor behind and entered the Oakenbrid River. The narrow stretch of water wound through the thick woods, guiding us toward the De'Endar docks.
“There it is,” I said, pointing toward the docks ahead. Blaze screeched overhead, and I smiled as I saw him circling with the others—Nimbus, Aurelia, and Titan—flying high above. They’d been waiting for us.
“There they are,” I said, nudging Artyom. “Looks like we’re really home now.”
The birds swooped lower, their wings cutting through the air as they welcomed us back. The final piece of the journey slid into place, and with it came the satisfaction of knowing we were done.
When we finally pulled up to the De'Endar docks, I spotted them—Dad, Mom, Uncle Masdrin, Aunt Guenwhyvar, Uncle Zeerdrin, Auntie Siri, Uncle Beocca, Auntie Katya, and Papa Robin—waiting for us along the river’s edge.
Sirisi’s eyes lit up the moment she spotted Uncle Zeerdrin. He didn’t live in Mistwood—he was usually far away in Alta Roc—so seeing him here, standing beside Auntie Siri, was a special surprise. Her face lit up as she called out, practically skipping off the boat.
“Dad!” Sirisi shouted, her excitement spilling over as she reached him. She hugged him tightly, her voice bright. “I’m so glad you’re here! You didn’t tell me you were coming!”
Uncle Zeerdrin smiled, wrapping his arms around her. “I thought I’d surprise you,” he said softly. “I couldn’t let you come back from an adventure like this without being here.”
Sirisi pulled back slightly, grinning up at him. “I’ve got so much to tell you.”
Meanwhile, Uncle Masdrin stepped forward, his voice filled with pride. “You made it,” he said, turning to Ash.
“We did!” Ash grinned, tying down the boat. “It wasn’t easy, but we handled it.”
Instead of heading straight to the clubhouse, Uncle Masdrin insisted we all go back to the De'Endar Manor, which stood tall on the estate. When we arrived, everyone gathered around the large dining room table, the air thick with anticipation.
“Alright,” Ash said with a grin. “Let’s show them what we brought back.”
Artyom stepped forward, pulling out the Mulepack and setting it on the table. The room was silent for a moment as he opened it up. Then, in one smooth motion, he began pulling out treasure after treasure—gold coins, shining jewels, ornate goblets, and artifacts, piling higher and higher until the entire dining room table was completely covered in glittering treasure.
The pile seemed to stretch the length of the table, shimmering under the lights of the room. It felt like something straight out of a storybook—a hoard fit for a king.
“Wow…” Aunt Guenwhyvar whispered, her eyes wide as she stared at the massive pile.
Uncle Masdrin chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “You brought back all of this?”
“I still can’t believe we did it,” I said, my voice filled with pride. “But it’s all ours. We earned it, fair and square.”
The adults took a moment to admire the treasure, then Uncle Masdrin spoke up, his voice thoughtful. “Now, you’ve got a real fortune here, but the question is: how are you going to keep it safe?”
“You’ll want to carry some of it with you,” Uncle Beocca suggested, picking up a jeweled dagger, turning it over in his hands. “But not all of it. Find somewhere safe to store the rest.”
“I could offer you some space in the manor’s vault,” Uncle Masdrin said, his tone generous. “It would be protected, no doubt about that.”
Ash brought a hand to his chin, clearly considering the offer, but then his eyes lit up. “Hmm... you think we have enough to build a secure vault under our tree?”
Sirisi’s eyes widened in excitement, and Artyom grinned as the idea took shape. We all started packing the treasure back into Artyom’s magical Mulepack, laughing and exchanging glances as the pieces disappeared into the enchanted space.
“A vault under the tree?” Uncle Masdrin raised an eyebrow, but there was a glimmer of pride in his expression. “Now, that sounds like something you’d come up with.”
The adults exchanged approving glances, clearly impressed by our ability to think ahead and take responsibility for securing our own wealth.
“We’ll help you come up with a plan,” Uncle Masdrin added, his voice full of encouragement, “but it’s a good thing to think about.”
With the treasure safely stowed away again, we were left with a sense of accomplishment—not just for earning the wealth, but for taking the next step toward protecting it.
Later, we headed to the clubhouse, nestled within the magical maple tree on the De'Endar Estate. The multi-level sanctuary felt as alive as ever, its branches cradling the wooden platforms, rope bridges, and our personal spaces. It wasn’t just a hideout—it was home.
“We did it,” Sirisi said, still smiling from ear to ear. “I still can’t believe we fought a Pirate King.”
I leaned against the table in the central gathering space. “Yeah and we got his treasure! But we earned it, didn’t we? The treasure. We fought for it, fair and square.”
Before we could say much more, a knock echoed through the clubhouse. Ash shot me a look before he opened the door. Standing outside were Uncle Masdrin and Papa Robin. The air in the room shifted, and we all gathered around, unsure what was about to happen.
Papa Robin stepped forward, his expression serious but kind. “I think I owe you kids an explanation.”
Ash tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“The map you found in the warehouse—I planted it,” Papa Robin said, his voice low but steady.
I frowned, and Artyom shifted slightly, folding his arms. “You… planned this?”
Papa Robin shook his head gently. “Not exactly. I didn’t mean to deceive you, but I wanted to help someone who needed it. The Pirate King… well, Draven Stormcrow wasn’t just some cursed soul. He was a friend of mine. A long time ago, before Mistwood had its navy, Draven and I worked together to protect the harbor. He was a good man, a pirate who followed a code.”
We listened in silence, absorbing the weight of Papa Robin’s words.
“But he just disappeared one day and by the time I had learned he had been cursed, I was too old to help him myself. It’s been weighing on me for years. I needed someone to put him to rest,” Papa Robin continued. “And then I saw how capable you all were. So, I gave Masdrin the books for your library, hoping you’d figure out the rest. And you did.”
Ash nodded slowly, piecing it all together. “So, this whole adventure… it was about helping your friend?”
Papa Robin chuckled softly. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I knew you could handle it—and I’m proud of how you did.”
Later that evening, after everything had calmed down, I stood with my cousins outside the clubhouse. The warm air carried the fading sounds of Mistwood Harbor in the distance, and our mounts circled lazily overhead—Blaze, Nimbus, Aurelia, and Titan—ever-vigilant and just as happy to have us home as we were to be here.
The weight of the day—and of the entire journey—settled over us. I leaned back against the tree, watching the stars start to blink into view, feeling the familiar comfort of home.
“We really did it,” I said quietly, the words hanging in the stillness of the night.
Ash stood beside me, arms crossed as he gazed out at the horizon. “Yeah. And I think the whole world just opened up for us.” He said as he gazed out over the town.