“Board the ship!” Reeva yelled at the top of her lungs.

Her crew launched hooks at the crippled caravel. The hooks latched onto the wood, and they pulled the ropes hauling the ship towards them until the two ships collided. The men drew swords and pistols and loud war cries engulfed the deck as they jumped across and the battle began.

Reeva remained on the quarterdeck, scanning through the mayhem for her target, the captain. If she could bring him to surrender, his crew would follow, ending the bloodshed before losing too many men.

Between the smoke and the fighting crowd, a man caught her attention. He stood beside the wheel of his ship, shouting orders to his men, a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other.

Now the two of us, she thought, grabbed the closest hanging rope and swung across. Her feet landed hard on the worn wood with a thud loud enough for her enemy to hear and spun around with his pistol aiming at her. Reeva plunged aside just in time for the whistling sound of a bullet to pass above her head. She rolled onto her back, drew her pistol and fired at the captain marching towards her, his sword raised. The bullet grazed his shoulder, forcing him to take a step backwards, buying Reeva just enough time to stand up. She unsheathed her sword before her enemy swung his. She blocked the upcoming strike inches from her neck.

The force of the impact pushed Reeva backwards, and her heel hit her rail. She took hold of the rail and hauled her legs up, kicking her adversary in the guts as he raised his sword to strike again. The man tried to steady himself, but she punched him on the side of his head with her hilt.

Her opponent landed on all four and Reeva pulled her second pistol and aimed at him. “Surrender, and I’ll spare you and your crew,” she ordered.

The man’s eyes wandered to the main deck, where the battle was in full swing. Bodies were already piled up; pools of blood ran spreading on the wooden planks.

“They’ll fire me and my crew,” he said and pressed one hand against his bleeding head.

“You can get another job. You can’t get another life. End this massacre before it’s too late.” Reeva cocked her pistol.

The captain stared at her, defeat written in his eyes. They were a merchant ship crew, not soldiers. They were on the losing side either way.

“Surrender,” he said through his teeth, but no one heard him. “Surrender!” he yelled, his voice breaking through the cacophony of clashing metal and screams. One by one, his men froze and let their weapons fall to the ground.

Reeva looked down at her cheering crew and savour the moment for an instance and turned her attention back to the captain. “You did the right thing, now get up.”

At gunpoint, she gestured for him to stand up and walk down the stairs.

On the quarterdeck, the captain and his crew were pushed into a corner and forced down on their knees with hands behind their head.

“Fucking pirates,” a tall, muscular man hissed, blood running from a large cut travelling down his left arm. “The High Empire will make you regret every breath you’ve taken to this day.”

“Jackson. Enough!” his captain cut him off.

“I wish I could be there when they hang you,” the man called Jackson continued, his eyes fixed upon Reeva. She held his gaze and walked toward him. “Especially you.” He tilled his chin in her direction, “I’m sure they’re gonna have a lovely time--”

Reeva’s fist met his jaw before he finished his sentence. Jackson spat blood and faced her again. “They are coming for you.” He looked at the crew gathered around, a bloody grin on his face, “For all of you.”

“Shut your mouth Jackson!” his captain ordered him again.

Reeva chuckled in response. Many prisoners had made the same threat before, hoping that their beloved Empire will come to their rescue burning inside them.

Kill him…

She slowly crouched in front of him, her eyes never leaving his. Hatred filled the man’s eyes, but it didn’t phase her. She was used to it, and if anything, she understood it. The man was about to lose everything he had worked for the past months. He probably had a family to feed with this money. But so did she.

“Let them try,” she said, her voice calm. “It’ll be our pleasure to cut their throats one by one. We rule those waters and there is nothing they can do about it.”

Jackson spat in her face. Reeva grabbed the small dagger hidden in her boot and placed it on his throat. She pressed the blade just hard enough for him to feel the sharp pain of the metal digging into his skin, but not enough to draw blood.

Kill him…

A cold chill ran down her spine but she didn’t dare take her eyes off of the men.

“I can show you what will happen to anyone who tries to get in our way. What do you say?” she whispered in his ear.

Kill him…

And there it was. Faced with the prospect of certain death the man’s bravado faded away. She released her grip and his gaze turned to the floor as he bowed his head.

“That’s what I thought,” Reeva put her blade back in her boot and swipe the spit off her cheek. “All right lads,” she stood up and looked at her crew, “I want five of you watching those men. The rest of you, empty hull.”

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Voices and the echoing sound of boots running around now filled the silent and tense atmosphere, as her crew got to work. She had only made two steps away from the prisoners when she heard Jackson’s voice whispering amongst the agitation, “Fucking deathwitch bitch. I’ll have your head…”

She froze. Her lighter skin could pass for High Empire but her silver hair will always betray her heritage. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, she had hoped that Jackson will keep his ego in check, but he didn’t.

Kill him…

Her sword was out of her hilt as she turned around. Jackson’s eyes widen as the realisation that his words had reached her ears. But before he could protest Reeva brought her sword down. Blood splashed her face and the hollow sound of the man’s head hitting the deck stop everyone in their tracks.

“If I hear as much as a loud breath you’ll meet your fellow’s fate. Are we clear?”

All prisoners stared in awe at their mate’s blood slowly spread on the wooden deck but no one dared to answer.

Reeva wiped the blood on her breeches and put the sword back in its hilt.

***

The door to the fallen captain’s cabin creaked open, and Reeva stepped in, closing it behind her.

She reached for the end of her shirt and used it to wipe the blood from her face, rubbing so hard her skin almost broke. Sick rose in her throat, but she held it down.

She tried to force air into her lungs, but a knot in her throat refused to let it pass.

The world spun. She grabbed her knees, trying to steady herself. Her lungs burned as she forced the air down. One breath, two breaths, three…

The world stopped spinning. Her heart that threatened to jump out of her chest dropped to a calmer pace, and she leaned back on the door.

“It’s done,” she murmured as she passed her still trembling hand through her hair. The three tight braids on the left side were loose from the battle and the rest of her long, wavy, silver hair was a mess filled with dirt and blood. Those silver hairs made most people stare at her and whisper the word deathwitch - a creature from Aweki myths rumoured to have the power to control the dead. The myths still struck fear, but the silver hair was the only part of it based on reality.

She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes; her hand brushing against a large scar starting from above her right eyebrow and stopping just on her cheekbone.

The scar was a constant reminder of her first raid that her father let her fight along his side at the age of thirteen.

She breathed in and out deeply as the knot in her throat loosened, letting the air pass freely.

“I did it.” Pride pushed her panic aside as she realized she had successfully led her first raid captain of her father’s ship. She straightened and scanned the room.

The cabin was small and tidy, like all merchant ships working for the Hight Empire. On the desk, maps gathered in a neat pile together with the captain’s log. The room looked a lot like her father’s. He liked to keep everything organised, and she was trying to do the same, but it turned out that tidying wasn’t a quality of hers.

She opened the log and read the last pages. The last entry said the ship’s schedule was changed and the returned date was brought forward. ‘By order of the Admiral of the Hight Empire’s Navy’ was written on the side.

Since when is the navy giving return orders to merchants’ ships? Reeva wonder, but that order had worked in her favour. That was all it took for her ship to get in their way and turn the journey upside down.

She turned her attention to the rest of the cabin. On the wall, there were shelves with books of all sorts. She skimmed through them until one caught her attention. A small brown book, a little torn on the edges. Creatures of the Depths the spine read. She took it off the shelf and put it in the back pocket of her breeches as she heard steps outside the door.

“Come in,” she said before the person on the other side had the chance to knock.

The door opened, and she turned around. A tall, muscular man entered the room. Contrary to Reeva his dark skin stated his Aweki heritage. He was wearing boots and brown breeches. His chest was bare of clothes but covered in scars. Mr Tates, her father’s loyal first mate, and now hers.

“Captain,” Mr Tates said, and stood in front of her, towering over her.

“How many?” she asked.

“Three men. Cooke, Stillson and Bear.”

Her heart sank. No matter how many years she had been at sea and how many men she had seen die, losing a member of the crew was never easy. Especially when they had a family waiting for them back home, and Bear’s was the one that wouldn’t see him come back this time. Reeva shook the thoughts out of her mind. There will be plenty of time to find a way to break the sad news to his wife and daughter.

“And the cargo?” she asked

“Mostly wetpyro, but not a great quantity,” Mr Tates answered.

At least that was some good news. Wetpyro was a popular drink and one of the easiest goods to make money from even in small quantities.

“Good. That’s good.”

She walked to the small and only window of the cabin and looked out at her ship. The Silver Lady. A beautiful ship she was. It belonged to The High Empire, before her father took control of it and turned to piracy.

“You did well,” Mr Tates said, his voice warm, a discreet smile drawn on his lips. “Your father would be proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mr Tates,” she said, a bittersweet smile on her lips.

Those simple words were enough to lift the weight off of Reeva’s shoulders. After the death of her father six months ago, she knew that taking over his ship would be a daunting task. And this raid was her last trial to prove to her crew, but mainly to herself, that she was ready for this.

I wish you were here. A lump formed in her throat. Since she first stepped on the deck, she had dreamed of the day she’ll be captain. But in her dreams her father was by her side, watching her from the main deck, pride filling his eyes. But now the day came, and he wasn’t at her side, and nothing would fill that void.

“How long before we are on our way?” she asked, getting back to business.

“We’ll be sailing before dusk, and if the wind is on our side, we should be back on Naukusa in five days.”

She nodded. “I’m done here,. Let’s go join the crew.”

Captain and first mate walked out of the office and back onto the deck, where her crew came and went, carrying barrels of rum and sacks of tobacco back to their ship. Despite the loss of three of their companions, it had been a good day and morale was high as they chatted and sang.

Back on her ship, Reeva climbed the stairs up to the quarter-deck, her hand brushing the wooden railing. The Silver Lady used to be an imperialist merchant ship, and her father was the first mate. Until one day the cargo they had to transport was Aweki slaves. Her father had tried to convince the Captain to refuse the job but in vain. Halfway through their route when they sailed near the Free Island, her father raised a mutiny, freeing the slaves and taking over the commands of the ship.

With his new find ship and crew, he sailed to Naukusa and established himself as a powerful captain. When Reeva was thirteen, he returned to the Capitol for her. They sailed and hunted together for 15 years. But now, Reeva was standing at the helm of the Silver Lady, as a captain on her own.

Her gaze drifted to the horizon, south, where home was waiting for them. The sea was where she felt more at home, but after a month of hunting, she longed for steady land beneath her feet.

“Get us home, Mr Tates,” she called to her first mate on the main deck.

The main sail dropped, and the ship sailed away from the merchant ship, leaving its crew at the mercy of the sea.