Her skin was an unblemished olive tone and bore none of the filth Cira had come to expect in such a den of pirates. Green lace wrapped her waist and strung down to her thighs where they ended in tight bands, while her top in fact hid nothing. The fabric could be used as a desert veil to keep the sand out of one’s eyes without impairing sight.

While it looked ornamental and quite well-made, Cira just couldn’t figure out what practical use it had. Even as undergarments, they looked uncomfortable and bordering on insufficient. Raising her gaze to the girl wearing them, she looked just as confused. Her eyes were a bright hazel, framed by wavy golden hair that sparkled in the candlelight and softly swayed in the breeze.

The scene was strangely beautiful, and Cira likened it to a painting. While the girl’s trepidatious expression threw the mood for a spin, it almost portrayed an unseen slice of this girl’s life. A moment not often seen—a moment intruded upon. One lost in the toils of her day were it not for this moment encapsulated in time. I must have caught her getting ready for bed. Hence the surprise on her face and lack of clothes.

“W-who are you?” Confusion turned into fear as Cira started drawing runes in the air, “Wait, no! Please wait!”

It’s best to take care of this quickly. She’s already in bed, after all.

“Who the hell is—” Jimbo walked closer and froze in place, “Ohhh, boy.”

James crossed his arms and looked at the unexpected guest, “Huh.”

“Who are you people?” Each new arrival caused the fear in her eyes to grow.

“I think I recognize her…” James narrowed his eyes and leaned in, “Yeah, this is definitely Wick’s mistress.”

So… his wife or something? She doesn’t look like a sponge maiden.

“Only as long as he’s paying me!” The cowering girl cried. “I-I don’t care about that… that bastard!”

Some wife you got here, Wick. Cira had paused her enchantments during this exchange, and she heard Tawny smack Jimbo before pulling him away. Joe stood there staring at her in shock and Cira noticed this young woman had turned into quite the spectacle.

“What is wrong with you morons?” Cira pushed Joe into the others, “Don’t just stand there gawking at her, go watch the door or something.”

They were all startled out of their skin and practically ran away, leaving just Tawny behind. The girl on the bed didn’t know what to make of the situation, so Cira addressed her, “Wick’s bought your loyalty then, hm? You should probably just let me finish.”

Cira continued her rune, and the woman waved her hands in front of herself frantically, “No, no, please! I-I’ll help you, even! I know all about this place!” Does she think I’m going to kill her? I guess it’s a reasonable assumption.

She glanced at James, and he nodded with a shrug. Doesn’t seem like a bad idea. If she has an aura, it’s nothing notable. Should be a safe bet.

“Why not?” Cira smiled at her, “Now get some clothes on. It’s a cold night.”

The girl collapsed in relief, breathing heavy with a hand over her chest. After she calmed down, she muttered, “You must be that girl from his journal…”

“Oh? Now that, I am interested in.” While he seemed beyond irredeemable, Cira was curious about the man known as the pirate king. A journal could also tell Cira how much they knew about her and her whereabouts. “Do you have it here? We are in a hurry.”

Cira tried to avert her eyes as the girl bounded to the edge of the bed, almost desperately, to rummage through one of the nightstands with her posterior to the stars like a waxing moon. “H-Here! It’s right here!”

The girl got up and pushed a leatherbound book into Cira’s hands. “Will you calm down? I’m not going to hurt you. Also, could you please put some clothes on? I am not going to have you walking around like that.”

She shrunk back at Cira’s reprimand, “I… I don’t have any others.”

“Seriously? What is wrong with that guy?” It was baffling to Cira, and her nose scrunched up in disgust. The man had all the island’s wealth, power over its people, and this girl didn’t even own clothes. She shook her head and looked over at the third young woman present, “Tawny, will you go grab that guy’s robes from the other room?”

“Th-thank you.”

“What’s your name?” Cira asked the girl.

She looked up with fear still swirling in her eyes, “It’s… it’s Olive.”

“Is that right?” The sorcerer grinned, “Call me Cira. If you just sit tight for a minute, we’ll get started when she returns.”

It was close to the paladin’s Oliver’s name, but she thought this girl wore it much better.

Cira leaned against a table decorated with lace and flowers then peeled open the journal. It had a ribbon to mark a page that wasn’t very far in, and each entry was rather brief. She counted back the days and found the entry from the day Wick returned to the Lost Cloud. It took a little effort to decipher his horrendous handwriting and lack of spelling capabilities, but Cira wanted to take a peek while she had a moment.

‘8th of Marin,

Everything went to goddamn shit while I was gone! It’s Jimbo this, Jimbo that. I swear I’m gonna punch the next guy who says his name. What makes him so great just ‘cause he got a new captain? I don’t give a shit if god crapped her out, this is my goddamn island! Jimbo doesn’t have a crown. I have a crown!

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

That piece of trash even brough that bitch here! To MY ISLAND. She’s hidin’ right under my nose. I swear, I’m gonna gut the both of ‘em as soon as I see ‘em! That son of a bitch is gonna die—”’

The entry had gotten progressive harder to read, as if the man was getting furiously inebriated as he penned it. Cira noticed a splotch of wine on the corner of the page.

‘9th of Marin,

God dammit, Don. Couldn’t you just beat one little girl? This is all your fault isn’t it?!

Don’s useless brother finally did something useful today after I punched him in the face and told me all about that so-called saint’s house. He was sayin’ some weird shit I didn’t get about another island, but the dumb broad crashed into MY ISLAND and thinks she doesn’t belong to me? That bitch had a solid gold staff layin’ in the grass. Gerald said all kinds of crazy looking alchemy stuff was just thrown all over the place. Even told me where Jimbo’s hideout was.

Sounds like he’s full of shit, but if that witch or whatever’s got a boat full o’ treasure, I’m takin’ it. Maybe I’ll even take her for myself too. If the ship exists, John’s team will be back with good news any minute now, and within the hour Jimbo will be finished. Ohhhh, I can’t wait!

THOSE GODDAMN USELESS BASTARDS. EVERYONE AROUND ME IS GODDAMN USELESS. WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE ON THIS ISLAND WITH HALF A BRAIN. I SWEAR I’M GONNA—

One of my mages picked up their trail due South. Those idiots must think they can escape to Plackelo Island. Not on my watch. No one escapes the Pirate King.

10th of Marin,

I feel so much better. I swear, sometimes Olive is the only one worth a damn around here.

I reached a moment of clarity and figured out exactly where they went. That girl was a fool to think she could trick me.

12th of Marin,

After all, why wouldn’t she flee back to Fount Salt? John tried to tell me there’s no way she’d go there after everything that went down, but that’s exactly what she wants me to think. That girl thinks she’s so clever, too bad I’m the smartest man on the Boreal.

She may not be too smart, but she should consider herself lucky she can be useful to me. After all, why would I kill her when I can just make her my wife? Then all her power would belong to me! I’ll be unstoppable.

13th of Marin,

Topin reported that John’s crew was destroyed by the Volcanic Witch while approaching Fount Salt. A total loss. Everyone died in seconds. She left Topin alive on a small raft to send a warning. “Stay away from Fount Salt.”

It doesn’t matter. She won’t be able to resist me when I tell her I’m the King. One look at this crown, and she’ll be butter in my hand. Hell, a girl from Leviathin Isle… I’m practically the only guy in her league. It’s only natural she belong to me.

White Steve sure is late… I’m sure I’ll get good news from Plackelo tomorrow.

I don’t feel too good. I think I’m going to throw a party in the courtyard and forget about that accursed girl for a night. I’ll leave Olive up here for later. That will help me get my head straight.’

“Wow.” Cira closed the book and shook her head, “Fuck this guy.”

Olive looked at her timidly, now dressed in a set of green robes a couple sizes too large. She went bug-eyed when Cira met her gaze, “Uh… Do you need help with something?”

“Yeah. Why does this guy keep a diary?” Joe caught the book as she flung it away.

“Because…” Olive fidgeted as worked through the answer, as if it mattered, “Because no one else can… comprehend his deepest thoughts… that’s what he said.”

“Laughable.” Cira paced around the room checking corners and opening cupboards, “There’s supposed to be a vault in here. I assume you know where that is?”

“I…” The girl was in the hot seat now, but her hesitation was enough of an answer, and she quickly noticed Cira realized that. “I do… It’s behind the bed.”

She jerked her head and the crew started pushing the bed out of the way, which made surprisingly little noise. It must have been designed that way.

“This feels so unguarded… shouldn’t Wick take a little more care with his belongings?” Even if he trusted this Olive girl, that’s sensitive information just sitting at his bedside. “And I thought he didn’t use this room often.”

“He’s been… very stressed since he returned.” Olive supplied. Maybe the bed here is more comfortable? I can relate to that.

The massive canopy bed had a headboard that went almost to the ceiling, and moving it revealed a lavishly sealed door that could only have been crafted by an artificer. It boasted three keyholes and a place to put your hand from the looks of it.

“There’s no way in…” The girl timidly continued “Not without Wick.”

“Nonsense.” While Olive saw a door sealed with layers of enchantments and impervious, mana-rich metals, Cira saw the same thing she always did—materials. “Whoever built this door ripped him off. This is no more than an enchanted lock built into a fancy-looking door. The single trap is plain as day even to my eyes.”

Cira lifted her staff and the girl winced, but she proceeded to draw a rune up in the corner of the door and a blatantly shimmering explosive glyph disappeared. A grin crept on her face as she dismantled the first locking array, “I’ve actually been looking for this one for a while.”

A silvery gem fell off and she caught it in her hand—it was a spatial catalyst found only at high altitudes and usually deep inside older islands. After she repeated the process for the next two, another glyph melted down the adamantine facets which connected the gems to the door, and she balled it up like bread dough before handing it to Joe.

“Just… who are you?” Olive looked on with wide eyes and James shook his head.

“Why don’t you just melt the whole door down while you’re at it?”

Cira chuckled, “I have no need for steel.” Another glyph took shape opposite the hinges, and she formed a small array, “But the locking pin is made of tempered brinstahl. Now that’s good metal.”

It trickled out of the door into a melted pile and Cira drew on its surface. Before everyone’s eyes, it turned into a metallic, waist-high cheese wheel. “You’re up Cedric. Wheel this out with us.” She gave it a light roll to the only mage who hadn’t done anything yet.

“….Okay.” He almost slid back stopping it, and then everyone’s eyes fell on the vault’s door as it slowly crept open.

The unmistakable glow of mana shined through the crack like an enchanted treasure chest, reflecting shimmers of blues and golds, reds and greens… It was like a rainbow reflecting off the surface of a lake and slowly lit up the room.

A wide grin formed on Cira’s face as literal piles of gold coins came into sight. Random artifacts were strewn about the floor while shining goblets stuck out of the various piles. Enchanted weapons were hung on the wall or unceremoniously scattered on the floor.

Blessed silver, adamantine, a fruit bowl full of catalysts. Cira could replenish her mithril stores, though only to a small degree. This was truly a treasure vault if she had ever seen one.

Cira couldn’t stop giggles from bubbling up as she looked around the bedroom with a stupid grin. She took a few steps to the food cart and swiped her arm across it, throwing the empty platters to the ground with reckless abandon before wheeling it over to the vault.

“Alright, boys. I want every gem in the room on this cart. As many artifacts as you can fit—the shinier the better. No, we’ll take two trips.” Cira didn’t know what was so funny, but she couldn’t stop laughing. While Marko alone gazed on rapturously, her crew and especially Olive grew increasingly concerned. Wait, I’m here for a very good reason. “Find the white gold first.”