(Dylan)

Runemist opened her cabin door. “I thought I told you to get rid of the bloody hat… What are you—”

Dylan pushed his way into her cabin and held up the note. “I need you to read this to me.”

She reached for the folded paper, but he jerked it back. “And keep it between us.”

Runemist let out a low growl and abruptly snatched the note from his hand before he could withdraw it again. Her eyes glanced at the paper, back to him, and then she closed the door.

She frowned at him as her eyes skimmed over the lettering. “Nathan’s going to have to teach you to read. This is written in Criterion. Everyone learns it as a universal language.”

Dylan reached up to remove the hat from his head, holding it out in front of him in both hands. “Out loud, please. It’s from the former captain. First Mate Echo already read it but refused to read it again to me.”

“Oh no…” Runemist said after only a moment, glancing up from the note to give him a concerned expression. “Oh Dylan… What have you done?”

“Why do you look worried?” he asked as his grip on the hat tightened. “You aren’t supposed to look worried…”

She sighed. Not with one of her team leader, I’m-disappointed sighs, but one of her mender, I’ve-got-bad-news sighs.

“Take a seat.” Runemist gestured toward her hammock as she leaned against the wall.

“I’ll stand.”

She shrugged as if to say, suit yourself, and then began reading. “To my love. I am sorry that you have to find me this way, and I beg your forgiveness—”

Dylan’s hands shot up, hat still in hand, the crimson feather bouncing flamboyantly from his objection. “Whoa, whoa! Captain Echo and I weren’t—”

Runemist clicked her tongue and gave him a look. “She’s writing to her first mate, Dylan…”

“Sorry…” He glanced down at the hat in hand, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Runemist resumed reading the note. “I beg for your forgiveness, but don’t expect any. Had I done something forgivable, then it wouldn’t have ever come to this. I need you to know none of this was your fault. You’ve been nothing less than irreproachable, loyal, and patient—the perfect mate in life and livelihood.

“Don’t wait for me. For after my time in crystalis, I will return to it again, until I’m no more. I foolishly thought I could bear the consequences of my command. But I’m a coward, too afraid to live with the thought that my decision threatens us all with another Lamprian War.

“I’d planned to wait until the Everafter and her crew were safely back in dry dock. But something changed. I had a conversation with an incredibly vexing young man. Nothing I said could persuade him of his lofty morals; not logic, fear, or appealing to his senses. He was immutable.

“He knows nothing of this ship and her crew, how to sail, or to lead. Only that he decided one of us was his friend. But that was enough for his unwavering dedication to latch on to. Even now, after I’ve explicitly explained the danger she poses to, not only him but everyone, he refuses to give up on her. And, infuriatingly so, he refuses to let her give up on herself.

“But despite his impetuous nature, he’s inadvertently shown me there might have been another way, had I not compromised on my own morals so quickly. This knowledge and the guilt that comes of it are smothering. I can no longer breathe, move, or even think. I don’t see a way to live like this. So I won’t.

“Please don’t blame him, my love. He’s merely an untarnished mirror, reflecting the ugly truth I desperately tried to ignore.

“To the new captain of the Everafter, Dylan of Dirt. Apologies for not drafting a second letter, but I must be quick before your return. I’m simply running out of time. You are both the worst and best choice to give the command to.

“It’s true you know nothing of how to run a ship or even lead a team, but I’ve seen the fierce loyalty you have for your friends. You’ve a willingness to fight for them despite any courage, skill, or likelihood of a good outcome, simply because it’s the right thing to do. It’s my hope that you’ll befriend this ship and her crew. Lean on First Mate Echo for running the ship. He knows what to do to get you home.

“Another round of apologies are warranted, I wasn’t completely honest with you about my intentions of giving you the ship. I knew First Mate Echo would refuse you, as would the rest of the crew. But the ship truly is yours to do what you wish. I know I’ve no right, but I ask that you get everyone home and pay the crew before you empty the treasury and sell the ship.

“Echo von D’lores, former captain of the Everafter.” Runemist let her hands fall as she finished reading the former captain’s last words.

Dylan’s jaw hung open, speechless. He blinked twice, shutting his mouth as he took it all in. Could a few hastily written words absolve him of his part in her tragic decision? His gaze dropped to the floor as he realized he’d unintentionally lied to the deckhand earlier—he had killed the former captain and taken over the ship…

“Infernal Mother Dylan,” Runemist said.

Dylan lifted his gaze to meet Runemist’s. He held out the hat to her and asked, “Do you—”

She didn’t let him finish before shaking her head. “No, I need to lead my team.”

“Maybe—”

Runemist was already a step ahead of him, cutting off his next idea. “Wedge needs to focus on the initiates. And don’t even think about trying to give it to anyone on my team. They need to focus.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He wondered if either of the twins might be a better candidate than him. Hay’len seemed to know everything about, well, everything. And even W’itney wouldn’t have been unkind enough to bully someone into thinking the world was a better place without them.

Runemist called him out on his thoughts after she noticed his ‘thinking face’ didn’t go away.

“Stop thinking, Dylan. The only other options are initiates and they’re just as bad a choice as you.”

Still struggling for a solution, he blurted, “What about Eury? She’s a princess. Might know something about leadership?”

“No.” She gave him a low growl. “That’s not fair to ask of her. It looks like we’re stuck with you as the captain.”

As usual, she was right. He’d have to continue to wear the damn hat. He sighed and then flopped it back atop his head. “That’s not what I wanted to hear…”

“Well, it’s not what I wanted to say either…” Runemist pinched the bridge of her muzzle.

“So what now?” he asked, finally dropping into the hammock.

“Just…” She took a breath to calm herself. “Go to your cabin. Get some sleep. And for the love of Mother, stop talking to people…”

“Right.” Dylan nodded. “I can do that. Thank you.” He leaned forward to hop out of the hanging furniture. He glanced at her. The urge to give her a hug was strong, but she must have sensed it.

“Bed. Now!” she said, pointing toward the door.

He quickly opened the door and scooted past her, shutting it behind him. Then he turned around to find W’itney standing in front of him with a hand on their hip.

“Really…?” W’itney eyed him and Runemist’s door.

“Nothing. Happened,” Dylan said between exasperated breaths.

“You… and… Runemist?” They sounded disappointed with a hint of judgement. “So… does captain outrank team leader?”

“One more word and I open that door”—he pointed—“and have her tell you what happened.”

“Understood.” They took a step back, tossing their hands up defensively. Then they flashed him a wicked grin and a wink. “Captain…”

Dylan reached for the door as W’itney scurried off down the hallway toward their own room. He was pretty sure they just liked to get him flustered and watch him squirm. But he wasn’t in the mood; the former captain’s actions weighed heavily on his mind, and he still felt responsible.

The next morning…

Dylan woke up in his hammock. The ship was still grounded. He could tell, because every day before the crash he’d woke up to the soothing rocking of the hammock. A long crimson feather was the first thing he saw after opening his eyes. That damn hat sat hanging on the wall, a reminder that his words had consequences.

“Goddamnit,” he muttered. He’d hoped it was all just a dream.

Dylan swung his legs over the side of the hammock before his bare feet plopped down onto the floor as he got up to stretch. His arms reached for the sky while torso twisting as his elbows, shoulders, and lower back realigned in a series of snaps, crackles, and pops.

While the hammock was no Helix Midnight Elite mattress, it was comfortable enough to get a decent night’s rest.

The clothes piled up on the floor were a little musky, but clean enough. He listened to Runemist and forwent tossing his clothes in the deathwash machine last night. The extra sleep, along with avoiding Runemist’s ire, outweighed the fresh scent of clean clothes.

The gurgling of his stomach told him he was past due for a meal.

“I know buddy,” he gently patted his ever-shrinking gut, “I know…”

Dylan glanced down to gather his clothes and froze when he saw something he hadn’t seen in over a decade, ten pink toes staring back at him, just past his belly. The combination of intense training, protracted treks through rough terrain, starvation, and flak had helped him lose a considerable amount of weight in just one week. He didn’t have a scale to tell how much exactly, but he did have ten wiggling toes, happy to see him.

He smiled and got dressed, having to add another notch to his belt. The pink dagger slid back into the sheath inside of his cloak. There was just one more thing he had to put on. He sighed and reached for the hat, slapping it on top of his head. Losing it would probably be far worse than wearing it for an entire day. Also, it made him feel kinda cool, like he was a pirate. Not that he’d admit that to anyone.

Dylan opened the door and yelped, “Jesus!” A large draconi skeleton wearing a black tricorn hat of his own, minus the crimson plumage, stood just outside his door.

“Apologies for scaring you, captain. I just wanted to update you on the overnight shift.” The first mate clasped his hands behind his back as he stood to his full height.

Dylan’s heart pounded palpably in his chest. “Sure,” he said in a squeaky voice, and then cleared his throat. “What do I need to know?”

“We’ve finished unloading all the weight we can spare without touching the food supplies for the passengers or the treasury. And Engineer Echo has also completed disarming our munitions. So it’s all safe to leave behind.”

Dylan wasn’t aware of the previous captain’s plans and had no clue what was acceptable or not. “That all sounds good.” He raised his eyebrows and asked, “Right?”

“Aye, captain.” The first mate gave a dip of his skull. “It’s very good. We’re ready to leave at your command.”

“Aren’t you? Sorry, I mean me—no, us?” Dylan tilted his head, stumbling through it. “Supposed to coordinate with Tome & Key to set off the distraction after picking up Ostello before we leave?”

“That is the plan.” The first mate gave Dylan a solid nod.

“Alright. You—wait. I mean I’ll…” He paused, frowning. “You know, it’s really confusing being on both teams now… I’ll go update Runemist.”

Dylan could smell himself on his clothes, suddenly regretting his decision not to wash them last night. He pursed his lips to the side, debating if he could sneak a quick load in before they left.

“Is there anything I can assist you with, captain?” the first mate prompted before he could finish his thought.

Dylan had to admit the first mate was a keen observer, quickly picking up on his ‘thinking face.’ The officer was exceptionally helpful and polite, a shame he didn’t want the hat. He would have made an outstanding captain.

“Actually,” Dylan said, peering out the door and down the hall. “Do you know if the deathwash machine is free?”

“Would you like me to have someone wash your clothes, sir?”

“I was gonna go do it myself.” Dylan pointed in the direction of the machine. He was used to doing his own laundry. It was one of the few chores he didn’t mind.

“It’s your command, but if I may suggest, there are things you should consider delegating.”

The first mate’s words made sense. But Dylan felt delegation was a slippery slope, and he didn’t want to end up like the previous captain, asking for things that he wasn’t willing to do himself. However, he could do other things to expedite their trip home if he’d just accept a little help now and then.

Dylan relented. “Okay,” he said with a nod, stepping back into his cabin as he shut the door on the first mate.

“Captain?” the first mate’s voice asked through the door.

“One second…”

Wham, bang! Both boots hit the door as he pulled and then kicked them off. His dirty clothes fell to the ground as he yanked them off, one garment at a time, stripping himself naked, save for his socks. Quickly, he slipped one leg and then the other into his only other pair of pants. And in one practiced motion, he hopped, pulling them up around his waist. Last, he grabbed his boots, leaned back into his hammock, careful not to flip over, and tugged them back on.

The door swung open, revealing a shirtless, husky man wearing a fancy hat. “Could you have someone wash these for me?” He pointed at the pile of dirty laundry on the floor of his cabin. “These are the only clothes I have left.”

“Right away, sir,” the first mate said, nodding again.

Dylan covered his ears as First Mate Echo let out the loudest whistle he’d ever heard. He shook his head, trying to get the ringing to stop.

‘How?’ Dylan wondered. He had a hard enough time whistling, and that was with lips.

A deckhand appeared, running down the hallway toward them. The first mate pointed to Dylan’s clothes. “See that these are cleaned, pressed, and ready for the captain within the hour.”

The deckhand nodded and wasted no time, collecting them from the floor, and then hurrying off toward the deathwash machine with gusto.

‘Every penny…’ Dylan thought.