“We are setting sail toward the lands of Eternasia! I have exchanged words with the Queen, and she has promised shelter for all of you.”

The captain’s announcement reverberated across the entire deck of the ship, which had become less spacious as a result of their latest escapade. Of the hundreds of Marked kept prisoner beneath the soil of Tumba de Beatriz, dozens chose to venture alongside the Dead Sea pirates, albeit briefly.

Queen Imogen, ruler of Eternasia, offered asylum to those persecuted by neighboring nations. Before Elena had even arrived upon this world, Miles had been in direct contact with the Queen. Through the use of a device similar in shape to a telegraph, except way bigger and powered by a Wind Crystal, Miles could send the sound of his voice across the entire world; the device fired green energy in the shape of a bird.

“You know, I was wondering how Miles had managed to speak to me back in the Palace,” Elena said, thinking out loud.

“You really are ignorant to the ways of the world,” chimed in Charles from behind her back. “The use of Sound Channels is the most used way of sharing sound and music. I have no idea how one person can be so uncultured.”

“And I have no idea how you are still alive,” clapped back Elena with a glare.

Once the events of Tumba de Beatriz came to an end, most of the prisoners were naturally happy about being granted freedom. But there was brewing unease among some of them about the presence of the Crown Prince—albeit, former Crown Prince might be more accurate at this point.

“I was on the team that wanted your head to roll, for the record.”

Charles gulped, burning under the blaze of her vengeful hostility. Despite his cooperation, Elena’s opinion of the man remained below low.

“Well, you changed your mind quickly when Number— I mean, Cordelia, said she didn’t want me to die. Although you still kept your usual grumpy face.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “You are lucky she’s such a pure soul. Else you’d be dead meat, pal.”

Being the one victimized by his family the longest, Elena had suggested allowing Cordelia to be the one to decide if Charles’ head would remain glued to his neck. To no one but Elena’s surprise, Cordelia rejected that option without giving it an ounce of thought, her heart too innocent to seek retribution in such a way.

“Calm down, sweetie. Boy here might be a lost cause, but murdering Royals is outside our agenda anyway. He’s remaining alive whether you like it or not.”

The one to walk into their conversation was Leila, who attempted to ease tension with her usual carefree yet scolding attitude. She was carrying a box, meaning she couldn’t strike her standard hand-in-hips pose, yet she still exuded a confident, mature aura.

“Thank you, lady. I am glad you take my side,” said Charles.

Leila glowered at him. “Tsk, don’t think too much of it. I just know how much more valuable you are when not a corpse.” She turned her head toward Elena. “As for you, start thinking of any skill you can contribute with. No matter how much Miles insists upon me, I will not allow any member of the Dead Sea Pirates to be a simple slacker.”

“Harsh! But fair,” Elena replied. She felt fear travel down her spine, as a slacker was exactly what she was. But if she planned to stick around, she wouldn’t have like to be forever a guest.

Speaking of which, that last thought made Elena realize something. “Wait, does that mean I’m officially a member of the Dead Sea Pirates?”

“I suppose. It’s not like there’s an initiation or anything. The only requisite is hanging out with us. And you claim to have no place to go, so I guess you’re sticking around?”

“Yep. No place nor purpose. That is me.”

“Welcome to the club, then.” With a wink, Leila brought the conversation to its conclusion, turning around to leave towards the lower deck, her hips swerving from one side to the other rapidly.

“God, she’s so hot,” slipped out of Elena’s lips as she stared at Leila’s back, smitten by the older woman’s allure.

“She could be your mother, you know?” mocked a husky voice.

“That’s not true! I’m too old for her to—” She halted her speech, realizing that her body in this world might be younger than her mind.

Embarrassed, Elena turned to face the origin of the voice. A burly man of tall height, whose thighs could shatter a watermelon in two—it was Bronson, who observed her with crossed arms and a grin.

“H—hey big guy,” Elena said, sweat dripping down her neck, trying desperately to switch topics. “How are you guys holding up with the passengers?”

“Galen is who you should ask. He’s the one tasked with managing our rations. All I do is help serve the food, and occasionally help an old lady walk without falling over.”

The queen had provided them with enough money to provide food for all those whom Miles liberated in the process of saving Elena. The ship had enough beds for most of them to sleep, but a few people had no choice but to sleep on the floor of the deck.

With a smirk, Elena said, “So he manages you guys’ budget? Quite a competent one, the little twink.”

“I don’t know what that repulsive-sounding word means, but that is indeed my job.”

“GAH! Can you guys just stop sneaking up on me?” Elena complained to Galen, who had joined the conversation abruptly, same as Bronson and Leila had.

“I am not a fighter, but my background in finance allows me to work brilliantly as the crew’s treasurer. For you see, when I belonged to one of the kingdom’s noble houses, I—”

“Save your exposition for later. I got things to do,” Elena said, her eyes distracted by something that was certainly not the rangy man rambling on.

“Excuse me? What a rude, little—”

“Relax, Galen. You’ll have plenty of time to annoy her later,” Bronson teased.

“Oh you—”

Their bickering faded into the background, as Elena dashed further and further away from them.

Her eyes had decided on a target, and she could not delay. Like a sailor follows the song of a siren, she was bewitched by beauty.

Wearing a tea green dress, intricately patterned with sunflowers, Cordelia stood underneath the shining light of the sun, eclipsing it with her beauty. There was something so picturesque, so pristine about her small frame juxtaposed with the endless sea. Elena was simply lost for words; adorning her head was a straw hat, which made Elena want to joke about One Piece, but she knew such a reference would land with a thud.

So, all she did was stand, awkwardly, with her mouth wide open.

“I have been told this dress once belonged to my mother. Do you like it?”

They both fell into silence, as the wind blew their hairs.

Her question was both cold in sound, yet heart-melting in its sincerity. In the gap of time between Cordelia raising her question and Elena answering it, Cordelia’s eyes slowly opened more and more, eagerly awaiting Elena’s opinion.

Elena tapped her foot, then snorted. She felt guilty. Who was she, to leave a girl like this waiting for so long?

For one reason or another, Elena’s judgement was valuable to Cordelia. She was unable to find words that were worthy of explaining the extent of her feelings, the burning of her soul. But that was no excuse— she could not deprive her of what she wanted to hear.

With a tilt of her head and a smile that excelled even the sun in warmth, Elena simply said, “You look lovely.”

They were simple words, few words. Again, in no way were they enough to cover all she meant to Elena. But they were honest words.

The appearance Cordelia gave off was lovely not only for how pretty she looked. No, what enthralled Elena was seeing this girl, who so far had only carried worn-down rags for clothing, be clad in such pristine silk. Before, even her beauty could not escape the shackles imposed on her by this cruel world. Now, she was allowed to truly shine.

“You truly think so?” Cordelia raised her fist, covering her mouth with it.

If she was trying to hide her feelings with it, it proved ineffective; Elena could spy the corner of her mouth slowly morph into a smile.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Aww, you’re so cute, like a little doll!” Overwhelmed by surging emotions, Elena lunged at her, engulfing her body with the warmth of a hug, her cheeks rubbing against Cordelia’s.

“L—Lady Elena, what are you doing?” Cordelia blinked in rapid succession and her eyebrows sharply rose. Even if it was simple surprise, it was a joy to see a hint of emotion sneak into her face

“My bad, I just couldn’t contain myself,” Elena said, stroking her hair while staring tenderly. Said tenderness soon morphed into frustration, as she added, “Hey, I told you not to be so formal.”

“I offer my apologies.”

“You’re doing it again!”

“In that case, I apologize again.”

“Well, can’t expect everything to be solved in the first arc, I guess.” Elena shrugged her shoulders.

Their little exchange would be cut abrupt, as Leila returned to the outside of the ship, then strolled toward them.

“So. New girl. Let me show you the ropes.”

“Yes, Madame,” Cordelia replied.

“I’d rather you not call me that,” said Leila, frowning.

“See! She doesn’t like the formality either!” Elena said.

“The formality is not the problem— augh, never mind. Come on, let’s get going.”

With her patience at its limit, Leila dragged Cordelia by the arm, leaving Elena by her lonesome.

Thankfully, nearby was someone also in need of company.

Staring off into the distance, Miles was hanging out by the edge of the boat, done with delivering his little speech. Young women curiously stared at the back of the man of masculine beauty, but his aloof body language proved enough to dissuade any potential approaches.

“What you looking at? Because all I see is too much water. 7.8 out of 10.”

“GAH!” Ripped out of his trance, Miles bumbled wildly out of shock, flailing his arms as he strove to maintain his balance, else he’d fall back-first into the ocean. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Elena giggled. “Tehee! Sorry, I couldn’t resist seeing you get all flustered like that. A nice change of pace after talking to Miss Emotionless just now.”

Both siblings were prone to hiding their emotions, but Miles’ were significantly easier to fish out.

“You joke, but at least she smiles a bit when she’s with you,” Miles said, then glanced at the floor. “I always dreamed of the day I would meet with my little sister again. But I could never imagine this… she acts so aloof. Only with you does she show even a hint of emotion.”

Elena crossed her arms and pursed her lips, saying nothing in response.

“What?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t that remind you of… someone?”

“Excuse me? Let me tell you, I show plenty of emotions to other people besides you.”

“Oh really? Exemplify,” Elena challenged.

“Well, I told Bronson the other day I was, uhmmm… really hungry.”

“Oh wow” Elena expressed a sarcastic surprise. “He’s meant to be your best friend, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you often share any manly secrets, or something like that?”

“Umm, I guess not. He mostly talks to Galen nowadays.”

Male friendships, amirite? Elena snarked within the confines of her own mind.

“In any case,” Elena said, putting her elbow on his shoulder, “give Cordelia time. She’s been through a lot, and lots of things are changing around her in a very short amount of time. I’m sure she’ll start to see you as her brother soon.”

“I suppose so. It’s just…”

His words seemed to be stuck on the edge of his lips. A strong wind roared, threatening to whisker those words into the sea beyond.

“Come on now. Don’t start hiding stuff from me as well. Spit out what you want to say, or else you’ll choke on it. That’s what my mom used to always say!”

He left out a chuckle. “I guess her face is so much like my mother’s. It’s simply uncanny to see her being so cold toward me.”

Elena’s eyes lit up. It made sense, yet felt like such a silly thing to get hung-up on. Cordelia was not his mother, and the many circumstances surrounding her life justified her withdrawn behavior.

But at the same time, Elena could sympathize with Miles’ plight. She imagined the face of her own mother, showing nothing but complete indifference to her mere existence. Such a nightmarish image was enough to not just make her skin crawl, but to shake the very foundation of her own soul.

What did her mother think of her? Her contemplation had brought that once-sleeping question to the forefront of her mind.

Was her mother happy she was gone? Did she feel her world improve with Elena’s absence?

Like a student who didn’t study enough, she had to answer “Yes” to all those questions, and blindly hope on being correct. It would do her no good to ponder how correct she was. So long as there was no way to redo the decisions that brought her here, picking at the past accomplished nothing.

And in this world, there were still things she could do. Things she had to do.

“Miles?”

Her gaze grew in intensity.

“Yes?”

“I need to ask something of you.”

It was abrupt, a non-sequitur, almost. And it was selfish perhaps, to so suddenly forgo any pretense of worrying about him.

But Elena needed to make her request. Worry corroded her soul every second that went by, worry at her answers being wrong.

If her mother was in pain due to her actions, then there was no going back. In grief she would spend the rest of her waking days, all due to the foolish behavior of her selfish daughter.

Thus, if Elena had inflicted such a pain upon her mother, then at the very least she needed to accomplish something in return. She had to live by the ideals that woman had instilled upon her, else both of her lives would be wasted.

Only if she could make an impact, only if she could change this world… only then, could her soul even dream of redemption.

“I want you to help me. Fight for me. Be by my side as I push for a better world.”

Miles raised his eyebrows. Elena displayed conviction as she spoke, not stopping to make her usual brand of jokes and playful teasing.

“What I saw in that camp was enough to make my stomach curl.” Elena closed her eyes, meaning to blink. But as those inhuman memories flooded back to her head, she struggled to open them back up, fearing that those images would become her reality again. “I want a world that’s fair for all. Where such atrocities are not tolerated.”

Elena opened her eyes. She found some peace at Miles’ compassionate gaze, but her soul heart remained flared up.

“But I am weak,” she confessed. “I alone do not have the power to save anyone. Not even Cordelia.” She widened her eyes, then pleaded, “So please. I need you to work with me. To build a world better for her. For people like her.” Elena scratched her back. “For people… like me.”

Elena had power, but being able to survive death was not enough. In the path to changing the world, death was not the only horror she needed to face. Many challenges would come her way, and she knew many of them would prove unsurmountable by her alone.

She needed someone to fight alongside her. Someone who possessed the strength she lacked. And that someone…

“Not gonna lie, I expected something weird coming from you.”

…met her conviction with a silly joke.

“W—what? What does that even mean?” Elena said. It was now her turn to be the flustered one, crossing her arms as she hid her red cheeks.

“Sorry. I just wanted to answer Elena-style.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny. I was like, really putting my heart out there, you know?” She pouted.

Wait, is this how I always come across? Elena pondered, smacked right in the face by the role-reversal.

Miles brought his hand to his chest. “In that case, let me also put my own heart out there.”

The gravitas had returned to his speech. Elena observed in intense silence as he drew out his blade from its scabbard. He then stabbed the wood beneath his feet, bending one knee as the blade traveled downward.

As he gripped the hilt, Miles raised his gaze to meet Elena’s.

“I shall be your sword,” he proudly declared. “I might have reunited with my sister, but if she is to be truly safe, then the world must change.”

A wide smile was drawn on Elena’s face. Miles was not a Marked, but he understood how unkind the world was toward their kind. Having survived such chaotic events, even such simple words brought reassurance beyond description.

“Thank you, Miles. Thank you, for letting me borrow your power.”

“No, thank you, Elena,” he said. “I have spent so long single-mindedly following the Queen’s orders, all for the sake of finding my sister, I have not given thought to what I should strive for beyond that. So thank you, for thinking for me, a mere sword who lives off others’ orders. I trust your judgement in the path to a better tomorrow.”

Elena was unsure if she truly understood what he meant. But she was sure the meaning of his words would make itself clear one day. What mattered today was that promise he’d just made, to be her sword. He would be there, aiding her in her fight against injustice.

There would be many struggles to come.

But so long as she had at least a bit of power, she was sure not even death could stop her. Not when her end was to change this world.

“Oh, umm, speaking of which—” Miles scratched the back of his head— ”we do still need to meet with Queen Imogen. Just saying, in case you’re thinking of doing something crazy like raiding another camp.”

“I wasn’t planning such a thing!” Elena complained. “But also, wow, way to kill the mood. Didn’t you say something about no longer blindly following her orders?”

“I never said that! Just that now I’ll blindly follow yours as well!”

Miles had succinctly summarized their conversation, but had embarrassed himself in the process.

“Whatever. Listen, you probably want to talk with the Queen anyway. She is infamous for being sympathetic to the cause of the Marked.”

“Really? Well, that’s a relief, knowing you aren’t working for a bigot.”

“She’s also our benefactor, meaning without her, we’d be drowning in debt. So even if she was one, we’d probably have no choice!”

He let the sound of his last word linger, implying it was supposed to be a punchline to a joke. The awkward silence and the grimace Elena made showed how effective of one it was.

“That joke completely flopped, didn’t it?”

“Yeeeeep. Touchy subject matter. Plus, it barely qualifies as a joke in terms of technique.”

“My bad.”

“It’s okay. But how about from now on you leave the joking to me, and I leave the fighting to you?”

“Deal.”

----------------------------------------

Like that, the Dead Sea Pirates set sail toward their next objective: meeting with Queen Imogen, who according to Miles, held beliefs similar to Elena’s.

Would this rendezvous be a mere distraction from her goal, or a key event in her life?

Only the wind knew.

But what Elena did know, is that it was a stepping stone toward the peak she wished to reach.

One where everybody could laugh and smile.

Struggle was inevitable. To climb such a mountain meant challenging even death itself.

But in the name of bringing change upon this unfair world, she would bear it all.