Act I

The Dark Dawn

"That's a mean mark you have there. Don't worry, though. It didn't penetrate your skin. With some rest, it should heal pretty quickly. Others seemed to be less fortunate than you."

The healer softly dipped a damp cloth on the girl's skin where the whip mark was while she was sitting straight on her bed. A strong herbal scent filled the room, along with cries of pain of other people. The girl nodded, sometimes retracting her body from the healer's hand when it hurt, inhaling sharply.

"What's your name?" the healer smiled warmly. She wore a simple cloth robe with a hood that rested half on her head, with beautiful black curls showing.

"Kiera," the girl replied, observing the healer's movements.

"Oh, that's a gorgeous name. My name is Ayska." the healer smiled. Judging by the darker color of her skin and her name, she must've been Volarian. She then noticed Kiera's trembling hands. With a soft touch, she grabbed one of them in both her hands and kept it steady.

"Don't worry; you're safe here. The entire city is under control of commander Marlock. He's planning to expand even further."

"My family, they're still in Etheon. You have to go save them, please." Kiera's eyes began watering up and turning red. She started talking faster and faster, "They will kill them, especially my brother, he will never be a slave, he will-"

Ayska muted Kiera by hushing and holding a finger across her lips. It was only then she noticed that Kiera had a small old scar across her mouth. She decided to ignore it.

"I will inform commander Marlock of this and we will get your family out of there, okay? But for now, you need to rest. Even the infirmary is guarded, nobody can touch you here."

Somehow, Ayska's warm and comforting words calmed Kiera down. She still wasn't fully convinced that she was safe, though. She just wanted to go home.

"I will apply some salve from the Yogiil plant. It will ease the pain and moisten the skin to make it heal faster." Ayska said, taking a small wooden bowl with a transparent substance, dipping her finger into it before softly rubbing it out on the bruise. She felt a strange feeling of relief, as the pain quickly faded away. It felt cold and refreshing.

"Woah, that..really works." Kiera smiled softly.

"Of course, it's supposed to!" Ayska giggled, wrapping a clean cloth around Kiera's hip, "There. All good! All you have to do is rest, and it should be healed very quickly. If you need something, there's always going to be a healer around."

Ayska wanted to leave, but Kiera raised her voice. "Wait."

With a questioning gaze, Ayska turned around.

"Thank you," Kiera muttered. Ayska replied with a simple smile and nod before tending to other wounded.

Since it was already getting dark, and she had a long sleepless journey in that slaver ship, Kiera went to sleep.

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Night fell upon windy islands. Where once seagulls squawked, crickets chirped. A chirping, that was barely audible due to the loud singing of drunken pirates. Six big galleons anchored around the island, and torches gave the shores an orange tint. There was one place on the island where it was quiet though. An eerie silence loomed around inside a wooden shack. Pirates filled the room, all aiming their heads to one person sitting behind a desk, listening to a story like admiring children.

"So you're asking me if this captain can promise you prizes, plunder, adventure..and freedom?" the mysterious man's voice sounded rather raspy and deep. As he wore his black tricorn hat, the light of the lantern on the ceiling shaded his entire face.

"Aye. He's rather new to this pirate life, but he picked up on this game faster than any lad ever did. He's amongst the most clever. There was a time when I thought of me'self the deadliest scourge of these seas." with a soft chuckle, he continued...

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A hurricane raged over the middle of the Sleeping Sea. The waves were almost reaching the top of the masts, but that didn't stop the little brig ship to defend herself against a massive Valquen galleon, carrying black sails of a gryphon spreading its wings. Their sails fluttered with the devastating winds.

"Batten down the hatches!" The captain of the small brig screamed. His voice barely caught any wind to his crew because of the storm. Luckily he still had his quartermaster, who carried his voice to the rest of the crew. One by one, the hatched opened, and the cannons were pushed through. Sailors engaged themselves with keeping the ship in one piece, while others tended to the cannons, loading in cannonballs and lining them up, ready to fire.

The captain's quartermaster returned, panting heavily.

"Captain, they're going to crush us, we have to lose 'em in this storm! We are faster than them!"

"There's no time! This ship will never survive the rest of this hurricane!"

The captain's quartermaster replied with widened eyes. "What?"

"We either take their ship or turn into food for the sha-" his sentence was interrupted by a rain of cannonballs flying overhead and digging into the ship, making them duck instinctively.

"We're making water, captain!" it sounded in the distance.

"It doesn't matter lads, we're ramming her straight into them!" the captain answered his crew's worries, again, his voice barely cut through the air.

"Brace!" the quartermaster screamed. With all of his might, the captain turned the wheel and made the bow face straight towards the galleon.

"Release the traveling sails; we need full speed!"

"Aye captain! Release the traveling sails!" the quartermaster yelled. With all sails catching the raging winds, the little brig seemed to be flying over the waves, approaching the galleon with incredible speed. As the ship wasn't controllable anymore, the captain released the wheel and unsheathed his two curved blades. His black hip scarf and long black hair violently fluttered with the wind as he ran towards the forecastle, holding onto a mast pole.

As a flash of lightning lit up the pouring skies, the massive Valquen galleon seemed to be much closer than they thought when it revealed their intimidating silhouette. Unfortunately, too close for comfort. Nobody prepared for the impact as the little ship dug its way into the galleon's hull, snapping planks and throwing them around in the air. Despite holding on, almost everyone lost their balance, except for the captain...

He was nowhere to be seen on the brig anymore. Vanished like a shadow. Instead, the Valquen captain saw his silhouette on the bow of his own ship when another lightning lit up the skies.

"The Angel of Death..." he muttered, "Kill that man!"

Valquen soldiers charged the captain with raised swords and axes. Like a ghost, he cut his way through dozens of them, parrying and countering every attack with the rasps of blades and reaching starboard in almost an instant. When he saw an archer aiming at him, he immediately grabbed a soldier and used him as a human shield before throwing one of his swords straight between the archer's eyes.

Having to tend to other attacks immediately, he slaughtered soldiers on the deck in a brutal fashion.

The Valquen captain couldn't believe his eyes. Another lightning struck, and never before had this captain seen something like this before. It revealed his deck covered in his soldier's dead bodies, only with the captain of the brig standing between them, looking right at him.

With a calm pace, the Angel of Death approached the galleon captain, who fearfully took steps back, a shiver in his voice.

"S-stay back! Devil curse you, you're a monster."

The ship still rocked over the tall waves, but that didn't bring any imbalance to this mysterious brig captain. Another lightning revealed his face for just a split second, a wide scar across his entire mouth and left cheek.

"No, that's where you're wrong. I am Captain Valmir, and this is my ship now."

"...so if his fortune and adventure you seek, then Captain Valmir Valquen is the man you need."

Some sailors looked at each other before the squeaking door of the shack opened. It was him, captain Valmir himself. He wore black leather gear, mixed with red cloth underneath. Tight boots and his hip scarf topped it off as the glow of the torches outside reflected onto his dual curved blades.

"Stop sharing these stories, Harper. We need to get ready to set sail." his voice sounding the complete opposite of this storyteller. Young and warm.

"Are we now? Where are we headin'?"

"Jiron. We received a letter from the rebellion calling themselves the Flames of Dawn. They promise a lot of gold if we help them fight."

Harper grunted and snorted loudly before spitting onto the ground next to him.

"Since when do pirates meddle in political affairs?"

"They don't only promise gold, but land to call our own as well. Away from these tiny cursed islands. They're fighting for freedom. Isn't that what we pirates want?"

Harper slowly stood up and looked at the sailors around him. "Choose your captain, and scurry off to prepare our fleet to set sail."

Valmir stepped aside from the doorway when all the sailors left the shack, and Harper took a few steps towards him.

"This trip better not disappoint me, mate. Think about your reputation. You don't want them to think the 'Angel of Death' is nothing but a royal puppet." he said before leaving Valmir as well. Standing alone, he watched Harper for a short moment as he muttered something to him, which he clearly couldn't hear anymore.

"Reputation is not what drives me for this life, my friend..."