Galadriel stands in astonishment as the dock fills with volunteers in just ten minutes. It's a mere ten minutes. A young man runs to the docks, a tall, skinny figure with tattered clothing and a wild mane of black hair. He might not fit the ideal candidate she had hoped for, but his determination to face the challenge fills her with a surge of pride. Galadriel lightly taps her fingernail against her lip, thinking that a new uniform might make him appear more regal.

Another woman chases after him, looking like a street cat with spiked hair, shorts, a tank top, and an unzipped hoodie. Her desperation to catch up with the man is evident. Galadriel replays the footage a few times. "What was our captain's name again?" she asks, bemused.

"Captain Elias Tishbite," the C.O. responds. "He appears to be in a hurry. He's not allowing the M.P. to take him below the deck of Terre Goth to see the seven hearts."

"He just wants to steal the catamaran," Thaliora says dryly. "He probably thinks he can drive it back to the south docks and part it out in the Valley."

Galadriel flips the screen to watch live. Many of the people who followed Elias onto the docks are trying to push their way back off the dock, with military police threatening court-martial for desertion.

"Even his followers have figured it out," Thaliora snarls, her upper lip curling in disdain. "He will be shot in the back of the head as soon as he assigns them weapons. He's not the hero you were hoping for. We might as well head straight north. We could lay siege to Seraphis and capture her Obsidian heart before the winter. No need to waste precious time."

"The law must be upheld as the treaty demands. We will wait for the span of days required. We will not break the treaty and risk all-out war recklessly," Galadriel insists.

As Galadriel observes Elias stepping onto the catamaran, accompanied by the girl with spiked hair, a light flashes on her desk, indicating an incoming call from the field officer. Galadriel flicks the switch, allowing his voice to resonate over the intercom speakers.

"Field Officer," Galadriel addresses him formally. "Is there an issue?"

Amidst the commotion around him, his voice struggles to be heard. "Captain Tishbite wishes to embark without the standard orientation."

Thaliora laughs, her tone tinged with sarcasm. "See, he simply wants to steal it. Look, he's already gone into the cockpit."

Galadriel sits back in her chair. The sun is setting out on the sea, and shadows are already creeping through the city below. She watches them for a moment, considering. She looks to the north at the Triad Mountains, standing out of the Nevers Sea. "Let him," she says, and she can feel Thaliora's jaw drop beside her. "Get his crew on board and see them off. He is the captain now. He can watch the film from his cockpit if he wishes."

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The field officer answers with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Aye, Aye Cap, er, X.O."

"You can't possibly. Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea how much that boat cost to make and equip? How many weapons are on board?" Thaliora objects.

Galadriel walks over and looks down from the glass at the city below. Still, the citizens mill about aimlessly, with a nervous uncertainty to the flow of traffic. Anticipation weighs on the city like an anchor. They need this to be resolved so they can go back to their naive, oblivious routines. Galadriel is nervous. It swirls in her stomach like a dark storm about to be unleashed, but she has an eerie hunch about Captain Tishbite. Something she once knew but can't quite remember tickles at her subconscious. "Let him go."

"He's already started the boat," the C.O. informs, but Galadriel is lost in thought as she watches the shadows of the buildings crawl toward the north docks. It seems almost alive somehow. "The last of the crew has boarded the catamaran."

As the catamaran slowly pulls away from the docks, the bridge grows silent. Galadriel remains transfixed, her eyes fixed on the departing catamaran, uncertainty swirling inside her. The bridge only grows more hushed as the vessel glides further away, leaving a trail of ripples on the tranquil sea.

Thaliora breaks the silence, her voice laced with incredulity. "You can't be serious, Galadriel. Allowing him to sail off without proper orientation? This is a reckless gamble."

Galadriel turns to face Thaliora, her voice cold as steel. "It was never a gamble on your end. You know what happened to the last seven catamarans sent to the Triads. You expect nothing different now. What is the difference if he steals it and drives it north until it runs out of power and dies? I sent them there for a chance to live. You sent them there to die. I choose to hope you are wrong. Maybe this one time the catamaran will return, and we can last another generation without having to shed innocent blood. Are you so eager to kill innocents? Can you even close your eyes without seeing blood anymore?"

Thaliora glares back, "You are hiding behind the law because you are a coward. You are afraid to fight, so you are stalling. I have shed innocent blood to save the lives of thirty million Gothians. They are alive because of the three brutal wars I fought for your uncle. I sleep just fine knowing I had the stomach to do what was necessary to fulfill my duty. If I find that you are not fit to fulfill yours, I will spill your blood too, then sleep with my bloody hands crossed content in my bed."

Galadriel's eyes blaze with determination as she meets Thaliora's gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "You have become a slave to your violence. Your methods may have yielded temporary peace and bought another millennium, but at what cost? We cannot keep sacrificing innocent lives in the name of security. There has to be another way."

Thaliora's face contorts with anger. "You speak of ideals and hope, but in the real world, ideals kill too. We live in a world with harsh realities. Without the hearts, Terre Goth dies. All of its citizens die. It's time you face the music. You are not the child–apprentice anymore. No more dreams, no more coddling. That boy cannot kill a dragon any more than you or I can. Those days are long gone. A legend of a long-ago past. There is only one way to get a dragon heart now. Kill a city, either that or we pitch half the people off the ship and wait for the mermaids to eat them. That would buy us another generation.”

The tension between them lingers, their opposing ideals clashing in the air. Galadriel takes a step closer to Thaliora, her voice filled with unwavering resolve, “I will not let fear dictate my choices. I am to be Captain. I will find a way to protect our people without resorting to sink another city to the bottom of the Nevers. What is the point of buying another generation? There are only seven cities left Thaliora, what will I do when I have sunk the last one?”