The flags fluttering above Vega’s ships, a new design some admirals had embraced with enthusiasm, made AhFueng tighten like a steering rope. “Black is color of piracy,” He spited out.

As the Triumph reached the peers of Sweetwater, a once tamed monster writhed furiously at the sight of a burned town. Holding a steaming pot of terrible desires and unspeakable thoughts, Fueng stuffed in his mouth a stem of sweet root and chewed furiously. He despised the taste, but strangely, liquorice managed to calm the demons as well as any good liquor, and on such an important day, it was not a the best idea to take the bottle.

A ship’s caulker shrugged and spat out a wad of tobacco. “Well. They left the red squid. That’s what matters, init?”

Fueng’s blood boiled, and words mixed with a resentful snort. “I don’t like old change either.” Red, on the high seas at least, was worse than black. A truth all brothers knew and very few cared anymore. A detail, although unimportant to most, which made him not only angry, but sad. Fueng was tired, and the recent changes in the brotherhood did not help his decision to leave behind what once felt like a family.

“That’s why ye never ink yer arm, boss?” Franz, one of the newest lubbers, used to talk with an irritating manner Fueng could not stand. Another little thing to despise, amongst many, was having to hear young people talk like idiots. With all frustrating struggle he had to speak properly, lubbers doing it in purpose to appear tanned, made the most perverse part of him wish to tear tongues out of their mouths. He looked askance. “I from Ah Clan, boy. We no drawing on skin. Is sacri.. sacre.. sa.. Is no good!”

Fueng blew and stormed out, only halting briefly before entering the bowels of the ship. “What ye waiting? Orders I gave, secure positions, join Eduard men! And burn dat black flags!”

Fueng went down the stairs like a demon returning to the hells, but once alone in the darkness, the facade intended to scare the men, faded. The stomping of his feet turned into a pitiful dragging. The frustrations over the Kraken’s fate turned insignificant. It wasn’t worth it. It was time for a change. To go back to Bandanii. Pick up Joy in his cousin’s shop, buy a boat and travel south. The mythical Blue was waiting. The maze of dangers all anglers used to scare their sons. A place no one returned, they used to say. A place filled with beasts from the world’s depths. It was fine, though. He didn’t plan to return, and he was used to monsters, anyway. Such a place was going to be a blessing. No storms to make him sick or wars to turn him mad. And most of all, no idiots pretending to be pirates.

Fueng opened the door without knocking and entered the captain’s cabin without asking. “Damn it, Long!” Snapped Eduard, bouncing his sight between the admiral and his quartermaster. “Are you going to teach him the gent’s ways someday, Hafiz?”

Fueng hissed and plopped down on a corner stool. He didn’t care, Edu spoke to him that way. He was a friend of Daddy, so he’d liked him.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. Fueng is leaving as well,” Daddy said, his face buried in papers as he had done since duties piled up. “We’ll do it your way, aye? But you won’t join me now. Go meet Adabast and Moret and you all stay away from it.”

Eduard stood slowly and massaged his knees. “I’ll miss you both,” He said. “Will you go east together?”

“Long wants to return to the South Cluster.” Daddy took a pause to be sure Fueng was listening. “I will join him when all is settled. I intend to keep my promise.”

Fueng’s smile would have reached up to the ears, but his discouragement showed the joy of his heart with a slight, timid smirk.

Not until they reached the port, did the trio resume their conversation. Admiral Eduard gave a brief speech and even briefer handshakes, then disappeared behind the canvas of the temporary headquarters. “I intend to keep my promise,” Daddy said. “You hear me? I just need to…”

“I know,” Fueng replied.

The way to the plaza where admiral Adabast had put an end to Sweetwater’s assault, was nothing but a dusty trek with limestone huts scattered at each side. The small village, the only inhabited place in a volcanic archipelago, was as remote as its islands. A place with few dwellers which after the attack, seemed completely abandoned.

The wind of dry, hot air made breathing difficult, but nothing compared to the reek of death. Men around covered their noses with fabrics. But not Fueng, not Hafiz. They had smelled much, much worse. Corpses piled in every corner and stains of red and grey of mass executions covered the once pristine white of the walls. Most of the victims were of old age. The ones not worth any penny, Fueng thought. Young, pretty, strong, or resourceful would not be shot by a squad. They’d be sold. This was not the first time Kraken brothers involved in the nasty business of the Red island, but it was going to be the last.

As the party reached the top of the village’s hill, others joined. In one side of the square and at some distance, an enormous mass of kraken men gathered in closed circle. Many wore a blue bandana meant to show allegiance to Eduard’s side, as did Hafiz men, but there were many without it and even more with the brand new uniform Vega ordered his crews to wear.

“Kalin and Vega are arguing at the prison side, sir,” said one of the Triumph’s mates. “Getting really ugly between us, but all villagers are safe and been taking care in front of the church.”

The facade of the church, falling apart at the other side of the square, was half covered by tarps shading dozens of people from the intense sun. Hafiz frowned, but not at the large number of victims, or the pitiful built of their medical huts. he did over an old hidden courtyard next to it, from where cries of fear mixed with shouts of for mercy in the distance. “Long, go check what’s going on there.” Hafiz said while reprising his way to the prison.

Fueng grouted but obeyed. He didn’t want to leave his Daddy’s side, but an order from him was sacred. Hurrying up so as not to leave him for too long, he promptly reached the archway of the courtyard. The house on the other side had been burned, and only walls remained around a charred, fallen roof. The courtyard, which would once have been a beautiful, flowery place worthy of hosting the best naps and parties, was now a wreck. On one side, a brother in blue was covering the naked shame of a young lady with a woollen rag. On the other, a pair of men in Vega’s uniform were receiving a tremendous beating from another of Kalin's men. Upon seeing him, the squid on the right tensed firmly, although the on the other side did not stop to care. Few steps closer, Fueng recognized him immediately. “Hey, Ricky! What’s going on?”

Ricky stopped a kick and spit over his whining prey. “The one over there was trying to abuse that lady. And got what he deserved! And about this one,” Ricky reprised his kick and the Vega’s vermin let out a terrible scream from the ground. “This bastard thinks it’s fun to scare a little girl, huh, pig?”

Fueng looked around. “What girl?”

Ricky’s foot motioned down to silence the sobbing. Then, wiping the sweat with his sleeve, he bent between pots and beckoned. Fueng moved his head from side to side to look among the plants and pots. Behind the junk, a little girl was hiding deep in undergrowth. Curled into a ball, she was trying to cover her face between arms and legs full of blisters. “The more he scared her, the more she got into the stinging bush, and we can’t get her out.”

“She scared of the tattoos, ye silly,” said Fueng. He crouched and dragged his feet to get closer. Moving any gardening pot on the way with care and speaking in the sweetest way he could, he stood at a sufficient distance so as not to scare her. “Hey. Is that a little mouse old Long see? What yer name?”

Two little eyes showed over the arms, but she remained quiet. Fueng reached for one of his sweet roots and pretended to chew it. “Uncle Long has this. Is waaa… is yikes! Heh. What to try? I say lie. It’s delicious!”

The kid didn’t go out, but her attention was hooked and, most importantly, she was not scared of him. Fueng pretended to chew the root again and pulled out his tongue with a grin. “So good!”

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From his side, Ricky’s hand brought a piece of fruit. “Was that?” asked Fueng.

“It’s called an apple. You should try one.” Ricky answered.

Fueng snapped his tongue, rubbed the fruit on his shirt, and took a bite. “This is good! Wan some? come. No afraid of uncle Long. Ricky, ye good lad, bring woman.”

It took a couple of faked, broadened smiles and a few fancy faces to banish her fear for good. Two more jokes to bring a little smile. Another juicy bite to make her crawl closer. When Ricky returned, he was smart enough to remain in a distance and, feeling safe, the girl reached Fueng’s arms. He stood and caressed her back gently. “Good girl. Ye brave and strong. Good, good. Lady here, take care of you.”

“No!” yelled the woman. “That’s the mayor’s daughter! She’s cursed. I can’t!”

“What? You silly. Just little girl,” said Fueng in shock. “Where family of girl? Some alive? Bring anybody here, now!”

The woman squeezed the front of the woollen rag and broke into sobbing. “All dead. All …all of them! You take her because no one in the village will. They all fear the screams!” She stepped back to flee, but Ricky grabbed her by the arm.

“Is fine, lad. No worry.” Fueng said. “She crazy. Better go away.”

When Fueng reached the medical tents, the little girl was received with even worse hostility. “Get that thing away from me!” said one of the injured villagers.

“Leave that here or I swear I’ll stab her to death!” said another. “It’s all her fault! Pestilence bringer!”

Fueng tapped gently on her back and blew. “Blow I… so crazy this people! Come, little mouse. Daddy know what to do!”

As they approached the prison, the number of brothers around increased and the little girl trembled, tightening her embrace around Fueng’s neck. “She strong!” Fueng turned towards Ricky, but the young sailor was already making for himself a space among the crowd.

From the centre of the ring, Daddy was giving one of his majestic speeches full of encouraging words Fueng always found equally fascinating and lulling. Upon arrival, the speech to convince the brothers to change the future of the brotherhood became louder and clearer, although Fueng did not pay attention. He hadn’t done it for years.

“Close eyes, little mouse. Uncle, take care of ye. No afraid, eh?” They crossed the Ring of men and stepped inside with no need to push or ask. The lads always were nice to let him pass without problems. Daddy, standing in the middle of a sandy circle, had stopped his roars and was now appealing to his companions with softer words. The men, who had been silent as statues, began a soft murmur among themselves. “Is that what we really want for our future, lads?” Daddy said. “Is that what-”

“Talk and more talk, Hafiz!” shouted Vega, who was awkwardly planted next to him. “Words that are worthless!” Vega wore an admiral’s uniform with brighter colours and newer fabrics than Daddy. Still, he didn’t give the appearance of majesty of his peers. Nor his voice, nor his stance, nor his presence. Nothing about that fool was worth one of Admiral Hafiz’s boots. An empty shell for an empty man, Fueng thought.

The ruffian’s face smiled while his treacherous hands tried to quiet the murmurs. Upon seeing how docile brothers turned silent around him, the inner monster chewed through the guts, begging to be unleashed.

“You speak as if what happened here was a mistake, or a crime!” Vega said. “As if this was caused by a rogue captain who has gone out of line. I have not acted out of greed or malice. Neither did my men. The orders came from above. From the Kraken Himself, Hafiz. If anyone is guilty of this, it’s not me. You should look for culprits among your aforementioned friends... Or maybe you should take responsibility for once.”

Fueng yawned. Vega’s smile grew, as did the murmur around. “No punishment should be given to my crews or captains. Neither to me. Furthermore, being both admirals, you have no authority to give orders. Do you want to support your claims, as the squid’s ordinances say? Release my ships, exonerate my men and we both go to Kalin to meet with the admiralty. So are the things!”

The crowd erupted in a clamour of reproaches, insults, and curses. The little girl deepened her face into Fueng’s chest. ”Almost finish, No scared.” The sea dog whispered, his hand caressing a messy black mane tickling his chin.

Vega raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, waiting for Hafiz reaction. What Fueng’s daddy did next returned the tumult to a freezing silence. He did not raise his hands, nor did any similar mediating action. Daddy slowly removed his jacket and tossed it onto the sandy ground. As he pulled up to show his prosthetic arms, the crowd began a chant of a repeating single word. “Challenge… challenge!”

Vega fidgeted. “No, no, no. This is unacceptable. We are admirals, Hafiz!”

“Challenge, challenge!”

“Squid rules, ye say?” Daddy pulled down his suspenders and moved his arms in a warm up they never needed. “No other way to solve disputes is as sacred and old as this one. No matter the rank, boy!”

The ring exploded with excitement as Daddy raised his fists. Vega, raise palms instead. “Gentlemen, gentlemen! This is ridiculous! We all know your prosthesis are an advantage… This is unfair!”

Hafiz lowered his arms and the brothers their shouts. Vega looked around, searching for help. Daddy for an excuse to continue. “Give Vega a sword!” Daddy shouted. “You, boy. Give him your sabre!”

The curved blade raised dust as it fell at Vega’s feet. The pedantic admiral hesitated before crouching. Fueng saw in his face a clear lack of courage and determination. A coward with no way out.

Vega reached for the handle. If he fled, the respect and admiration of all his men would banish forever. If he took the fight and won, he would become what he dreamed of. With a blade in his hand, he’d have hoped to win, but he was deeply wrong: winning was never at his reach. Fueng burst with laughter inside.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” Daddy said. The blade swung and daddy stepped back, the tip passing at a finger of his nose. A calculated move. The next lateral cut was avoided by crouching, and the next with a lateral step. It seemed like Daddy struggled, but it was all calculated. Confident, Vega launched another attack from above, a motion to be followed by a swing to the legs. Vega was convinced Hafiz would take a step to the left, leaving his side open. The blade turned, following the motion of the initial blow. The iron cut, but the legs were not there. Hafiz had taken the step, but forward. Closed quarters, a palm hit Vega’s arm, and while the sword was still flipping in the air, a fist hit his ribs. Vega collapsed between gasps. Daddy’s knee hit the nose squarely and Vega writhed like a top, spilling over a cloud of sand.

Daddy stepped forward and Vega dragged away with a shriek. Chaser and chased moved around the ring, one putting all efforts into a clumsy escape, the other taking his time to enjoy the struggle. Fueng chuckled.

Vega crawling as the vermin he was turned out to be an embarrassment difficult to watch. Daddy kicking and pushing with his feet a humiliating delight. Vega coughed, gasped, moaned and cried. Daddy could have finished him with one strike. But that wasn’t a fight. It was a punishment. A warning to the other dissidents no more evil would be tolerated. Vega was the scapegoat and, even some might have taken pity on him, Fueng could not find even the slightest bit of mercy for such a disgraceful man. “Stop it!” Vega moaned. “I surrender!”

Daddy grabbed the jacket and pulled up, then his opened hand slapped him unceasingly as a mother who beat a mischievous child. And Vega cried as such. “Stop it…stop it! I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I swear!”

“No, you won’t!” Said Daddy, right before releasing. He dusted off his clothes and walked away. Before the ring opened to let him pass, he yelled with more intensity than he fought. “The greatness this man promises you is as empty as the one he pretends to have. Think about it, lads!”

Fueng joined the retinue behind Daddy, and soon reached his side. “What’s that, Long?” Daddy asked.

“Is little girl, ye silly.” Fueng answered. “All family dead, all village think she witch. They want she death. What to do, daddy?”

“Don’t call me that,” Daddy said. “And I don’t know. Maybe your cousin finds her a mother in Bandanii?”

“Ah? Bandanii is a big ney! Many wolves pretending sheep there. And cousin too busy to care for little mouse!” Fueng faltered ahead, confused with an incessant flow of ideas piling inside his mind. “Do little girls drink rice wine?”

Daddy approached slowly, letting out a sigh and placing a gentle hand on Fueng’s shoulder. “I don’t think so. You can’t bring her south, brother. She is too little for such a dangerous trip.” Daddy reached to caress the girl’s hair, to which she reacted with a powerful tug to move away. “What happened to her arms?”

“Little mouse hid inside ivy bush.” Fueng said. “How about rum? Ale? Ale almost water, right?”

The troupe reprised the trek towards port, following an admiral who Fueng realised was dragging his feet with much more burden than he’d ever seen. “Tell you what,” Daddy said. “We will stop in Selesa before Bandanii. I’m sure we will find someone there who can take care of a little brat. How difficult can that be?”