Adrian awoke to the taste of salty sea water filling his mouth. After quickly spitting it out, he tried to sit up and get his bearings, but his body gave out on him, sending his face splashing back into the water and knocking his head on the deck just below the surface.

Giving up on the plan, he did the only thing his body could manage; lay face up in the shallow water and weakly rub his aching forehead. As the grogginess of sleep wore off, he was becoming aware that his entire body was feeling just as bad as his head. Every muscle in his body was twisting and screaming at him for the hardship they had endured while being tossed around the lower decks of the Maiden’s Fangs.

Stinging pain coursed into his left shoulder and thigh where the golden shrapnel had struck and tore through them. Each lap of the briney waves under him sent another wave of agony into the still barely bleeding wounds and Adrian had to start gritting his teeth to keep from screaming.

Desperate to escape the torture, he forced himself to push away from the puddle, struggling against his trembling arm and doing his best to ignore the pain until he was finally in a seated position. After carefully lifting his tender thigh out of the water as well, Adrian rested there, against a pole in the ship where a hammock had been hung.

Adrian glanced down at where that same hammock was now in tatters on the ground beside him after he climbed into it during the crash. Evidently, it had managed to reduce the impact and save his life thanks to his quick thinking.

‘Thanks for the assist, mate. I’ll always remember your noble sacrifice,’ Adrian joked to himself to fight off any other thoughts.

Like what was happening outside the shadowy confines of this ship.

Small rays of sunlight passed through breaches in the hull where the poke stones broke through when the ship fell onto them. Adrian couldn’t get into position to see through the holes, but he could hear fairly well, and all that came through was the usual sounds of the beach: wind, waves, and birds.

The normality of it was wrong. Did anyone survive that explosion? Had the Navy left Heartspear Cove? Were there even any pirates left? What happened to Garza, or Rodgers, or Walker, or Dorsey, or even his mum? How would anyone find him if he couldn't even stand to leave this Depths-damned ship?

Anxiety crept into his mind like a parasite and sent Adrian’s heart racing.

Collapsed there against the wooden column, he couldn’t fight back against the tears that came unbidden to slide down his cheeks and splash into the sea. Sniffling and rapid breaths filled the cabin. Adrian’s panic only grew further as he struggled to even draw in air, leaving him in a cruel loop of ever worsening misery and distress.

…

Adrian couldn’t be sure how much time passed before he came back to himself. At one point he'd drawn his warm wool jacket up over his head and fallen asleep again and when he awoke, the light coming in had turned dim and orange.

He was surprised to realize it was getting brighter over time and that he must have slept through all the previous day and night.

And still, nobody had come to find him.

His body was sore and stiff as a corpse, but fortunately, his wounds had all scabbed over while he slept. That meant that, while he couldn’t exactly move or stand, at least he wouldn’t be bleeding out. Of course, starvation and dehydration didn’t sound great either, but silver linings were a welcome gift wherever he could spot them at the moment. Like the fact he was still alive, or that his treasured coat still remained relatively damage-free, or that, technically, his raid on the Maiden’s Fangs’ crew had succeeded.

Reaching into his jacket, Adrian felt the telltale weight of his newly gained treasure. The heavy gem had managed to remain in the interior pocket even through the chaos of the earlier battle and its presence provided a comforting companion in the lonely ship. Pulling out the fist-sized rock, he played with it in his hands, watching the rising sun’s rays reflect the stone’s cool blue light around the cabin. It almost felt like the thing was radiating warmth, cutting through the bone-chilling cold of the sea.

“Oi, Cap’n! Anyone checked this wreck yet?!”

Adrian jumped at the sound of a woman’s shout from above deck, almost sending the gem flying out of his hands before he managed to juggle it back into his grip. Someone was walking around up there.

He opened his jacket in a rush and hid the gem away before any prying eyes could see his prize. After carefully adjusting its position until he was satisfied it wouldn’t make too obvious of a bump through his clothes, Adrian turned his head to look back over his shoulder up the stairs. It was a risk to reveal himself like this, but it was clear he’d never get out of here on his own. All he could do was hope they’re not slavers or hunters who’d just take his treasures and leave him to die.

“D-Down here! Help!” His voice came out like he’d been eating beach gravel, ending his cry with a rough coughing fit.

“Huh? Oi! Someone’s alive in here!”

However nervous Adrian might be about what could happen next, it was too late for regrets now. It only took a second for the girl to come running down the stairs.

By her outfit and the dirty state of her face and short blonde hair, she was clearly a pirate of some kind at least. A human not too much older than himself. She wore faded old leather pants that were torn off just below the knee and a scrap piece of red cloth tied around her chest. Enough to keep her modesty, but no Navy sailors would run around in old, faded clothes that barely covered their body.

“Oh stars damn me, it’s a little kid.” The girl swore when she caught sight of Adrian sitting on the floor, coughing his lungs out. “Captain Roth, Sunshine, hurry it up! There’s a hurt kid down here!”

She rushed over, splashing through the shallow water to crouch down at Adrian’s side. Carefully, she put her arm on his back and rubbed it until his coughing fit ended.

“Oi, kid, you with me? Come on now, deep breaths. Stars above… you look like the damned Abyssals’ leftover dinner scraps. Er- sorry, I’m sure you know that already… But don’t worry! Sunshine will get all your parts where they should be. You’re in good hands. I’m Murphy by the way, but you can call me Murph!” Her face lit up with a friendly smile that helped to calm Adrian down. If nothing else, she didn’t seem like an unkind slaver.

“Oh, right!” Murph made a loose fist and knocked the side of her head. Then she pulled a large satchel around from her back, digging through it until she found a small leather waterskin to offer him.

Adrian eagerly reached his still aching but usable right arm and took the water in a shaking hand. The liquid coursed down his salty, parched throat and brought a cooling relief to his body and mind. He wanted nothing more than to keep drinking it like that forever, but a powerful hand came in to take the waterskin away.

“That’s enough, lad. You’ll make yourself sick if you take in too much.”

Turning his head to face the dirty thief, Adrian saw a towering middle-aged woman with muscles like steel ropes under her green-tinted skin, long black hair, and two ivory tusks growing up from her jaw.

He gawked at the sight of the intimidating half-orc, nervously gulping down the last of his water.

“Do not be afraid, boy. I am Narazenna Roth, Captain of The Good Ship Galaya.” The Captain’s deep, husky voice carried an aura of authority that captivated Adrian, drawing him into her words. She gestured over to a shorter, skinny man beside her with eyes like blue ice and a cold expression to match. “This is our Surgeon, Sunny. And you’ve met Estella Murphy, our Navigator. I apologize if she’s done anything strange.”

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“Oi, Cap’n, don’t say that! The kid’ll think I’m a pervert or somethin!” The blonde girl slapped the monolithic Captain Roth’s muscular bicep to no visible reaction.

While Murph complained, Sunny crouched down next to Adrian on the ground and started going over all of his wounds. Doing his best to ignore the lanky man’s pokes and prods, Adrian turned his head back to the Captain.

“So… you’re not slavers?”

Before Captain Roth could answer, Murph jumped in on her own.

“Slavers?!” She shrieked, staring up at Roth in exaggerated shock. “Tell me it’s not true, Cap’n! Were these last two years just a trick to sell your cute little Murph into slavery? Think about the good times, Cap’n; all those candle lit dinners we shared in your quarters, the cold nights huddled together under the stars, the-” a heavy green hand fell over the girl’s face, muffling her continued pleading words.

“No, lad, we are no slavers. The crew of The Good Ship Galaya are adventurers by trade and scavengers by necessity, but we’ve never fallen so low as to sell even people. You have nothing to fear from us but a headache from our plucky Navigator.” The corner of the half-orc’s mouth rose in an affectionate grin and she rubbed the blonde’s head, leaving the mop of hair in a tangled mess.

Adrian caught sight of the offended Murph staring daggers at Captain Roth through her fingers, gnawing on her hand like a rat until she was freed. She looked like she wanted to say more but a pointed look from the other two silenced her next words.

Roth knelt down beside Sunny to look Adrian in the eyes.

“Now, lad. Can you tell me your name and what happened here? How did you end up in this wreckage?”

Feeling more relaxed at the situation, Adrian told them the story of the raid. How he was generously bringing a midnight snack to a friend on the docks when the Golden Armada suddenly appeared in the harbor.

He described the size of the fleet, the striking image of Empress Solara at its head; the relentless destruction caused by the magical barrage of cannons; and how Archcaptain Rodgers had flown on the back of the golden dragon statue, Solara, before the Heartspear blew her to pieces.

Murph listened to the tale with wide eyes and rapt attention, eating up every word with untamed fervor. The Surgeon, Sunny, continued his examination without comment, but every so often Adrian would notice him come to a halt as he got caught up in the story. Finally, Captain Roth herself paid close attention with dark eyes that were growing more severe with each new detail.

“...The last thing I remember was a wave of fire hitting the boat and then flying through the sky. When I woke up it was hard to move so I’ve been stuck here for the last day or so.”

The story came to an end and the room sat quiet for a few moments while everyone digested it. The three pirates glanced between each other, clearly unsure what to say until the Captain spoke up seriously.

“Murph, take the rowboat, call all hands back to The Galaya, and bring her over to the reef. We’re taking this ship with us and leaving the Razorsky Sea immediately.”

The girl was gone in a gust of wind before the order was completed, and Roth turned to the skinny Surgeon in a rush.

“Is Adrian stable enough for me to fix the ship? I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible and we don’t have time to bring him over for now. Whatever was left of the Golden Armada must have fled after their Archcaptain’s demise but the Navy won’t just leave their ships here to be salvaged by us. Especially not their flagship.”

Adrian’s eyes widened at the thought while the two discussed his condition. He’d never considered that the bastards might actually come back, and just the mention of the possibility sent a shiver up his spine. The sounds of ringing explosions and the acrid smell of smoke erupted in his senses unbidden, bringing back the pangs of anxiety he’d fought off earlier.

“Um, first, could you tell me what happened to Heartspear Cove? Did the crew sail away already? I was going to find my friend Dorsey after I got out of here, so I can’t just come with you.” Adrian’s questions came out more feebly than he’d expected. He already knew the answers wouldn’t be what he wanted.

Captain Roth’s stern expression grew soft as she turned back to face Adrian, gently laying a hand on his good shoulder while Sunny was quickly wrapping up his other one in a bandage.

“I’m sorry, lad, but Heartspear Cove is gone, along with all of Garza’s raiders. It’s possible a few stray groups escaped in the chaos you described, but…”

Adrian did his best to fight off tears, but was ultimately unsuccessful as the full weight of her words piled onto his heart. Memories of the crew, their interesting stories, their drunken fights, their joyful celebrations, their heartfelt goodbyes to lost comrades, all raced through his mind until his body started to shake. Memories of hanging out in Dorsey’s bar to escape his mum’s biting words and whip lashes, and to sing shanties with drunken tourists until Dorsey forced him to go home for the night.

Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he still heard the Captain speaking to her Surgeon, but the words were meaningless to him. Everyone was gone. Everybody he’d ever known.

Suddenly, the half-orc Captain reached down and lifted Adrian up into her arms, holding his small body to her chest. He weakly tried to fight off the embrace, but her strength left no room for escape. Whatever the Surgeon had done left him with only a comfortable feeling of numbness even in his torn leg and shoulder, and he found himself sinking into the woman’s hug before he knew it.

“Just rest, lad,” she said in a low, calm voice. “Weep, if it helps; and pray to the Constellations above for the souls of those lost, so that their journey to the Undersea may have calm waters and peaceful skies. These are things you can do. I know it may feel as if your world is ending, but life will go on, so long as you allow it to.”

Captain Roth took careful, deliberate steps up the broken stairs to the deck of the Maiden’s Fangs where Adrian felt the heat of the sun wash over him. Back out in the light of day, the aftermath of the battle was clear and obvious.

Garza’s Island was gone. The mighty cliffs that contained the lives and homes of a thousand pirates and their families reduced to charred boulders and rubble in the sea. The corpses of people and ships alike floated in the shallow water where the harbor sat, most of them burnt beyond recognition from that terrifyingly intense golden sun.

While he looked out at his old home with dull eyes, Roth kept moving over the deck to the helm of the small cog and Sunny followed behind.

“You were lucky to have survived this battle, Adrian. From what you described, it seems this ship was sent flying into the coral reef from the blast and managed to get her keel stuck in just the right way to remain in one piece without taking serious damage. Had she taken the hit harder or in any other way, you would likely have drowned if you weren’t simply thrashed into the rocks. Had she been in better condition and looked seaworthy, the Navy would have blown her away before leaving, just to be sure no possible survivors could sail her away,” the Captain explained solemnly.

“Your life from here on out is a miracle granted by the stars above, lad. The Constellations must have great plans for you. It is good to feel melancholy at such an unfathomable loss; for it shows just how much you cared about them that you feel the way you do. But life is what you make of it, and it would be a shame to let this single, terrible moment sour the potential for a lifetime of greatness.”

Adrian listened to Captain Roth’s sermon without responding. The words sounded nice and made some sense, but he wasn’t in the mood for nice words. As his thoughts ran, they began to turn. He was sad, yes, and probably whatever melancholy meant as well, but more than that, he was angry.

Angry at the Navy, for bringing down a storm of calamity onto his home. Angry at Archcaptain Rodgers for being willing to commit the atrocity of slaughtering the people of Heartspear Cove over one Depths-damned treasure. Angry at Garza for stealing whatever the thing was in the first place, dooming the people that looked up to him for nothing but his own greed.

Angry at himself, that he could understand them.

The idea of a treasure so amazing that it could result in the death of at least one Archcaptain, complete annihilation of an island full of people, and decimation of the all powerful Golden Armada spoke to Adrian’s very soul. What could it possibly be, to be worth such a steep price? He couldn't even imagine.

So he wanted it for himself. He needed it. If for no other reason than to just know why this had all happened.

After realizing there was no answer coming from him, Captain Roth left Adrian to his thoughts and stepped forward to take the ship’s wheel in her free hand, closing her eyes in quiet concentration.

When she lay her hand on the well worn wood, it started glowing with a soft green light that drew Adrian's attention from his position in her arms. Starting at the point of contact, the light slowly spread down through the rest of the helm without stopping.

It moved to the Maiden's Fangs’ stained deck below, the charred and shredded hull, the cracked mast. The glow ignored things like the cannons or the sail, but soon, every inch of wood on the ship was shining beneath them.

After being swallowed by the Captain’s light, the ship started wildly shaking beneath them. Roth kept steady and held Adrian in place, but Sunny had to grab her shoulder to avoid stumbling at the sudden movement.

Adrian watched with unhidden awe as the old wood warped in place, twisting and stretching to fill in the ship’s wounded hull. The mast, tilted from the crash, moved on its own to stand upright and tall once more. He felt the deck raise beneath him as she lifted herself off of the poke stones to fill in the holes left behind.

In less than five minutes, the decrepit wreck had become a seaworthy vessel.

Captain Roth let go of the wheel in a rush, panting out heavy breaths.

“What in the Depths was that?” Adrian asked aloud to nobody in particular.

Rather than the exhausted half-orc woman, the answer came from the deck of an approaching sloop, where Murph stood on its extended bowsprit, holding a rope to keep her balance.

“That was the power of The Good Ship Galaya! Welcome to the crew, Adrian!”