“You sure we shouldn’t stop on Plackelo first to see what’s goin’ on?” My trusted first mate asked, “After everything they been sayin’…”

“Three spears of the sun god my ass. I’m getting sick and tired of people pulling such intense names for stuff right out their ass. Saint of this, sungod of that. Bullshit is what I say. It was probably just another witch up to no good.” I shook my head in annoyance. “Good thing we stayed away from Fount Salt though. Wonder what Wick was looking for down there, anywhere.”

“Who cares,” Han replied, “Dumb bastard got what was comin’ to him. Here’s hopin’ there’s more on the way.”

“Aye.”

We clinked glasses and polished them off before he extended his spyglass.

“Hey, Ripley,” He asked, “You don’t think the witches found Lost Cloud, do you?”

“Not a chance. I’m tellin’ you. If those bullshit spears came from anywhere aside from Fount Salt, it had to be Green Pit—” My words died in my throat as the mist seemed to alight from below as well as above in the midday sun. “What the hell is going on?”

“You… you sure you wanna land?” I couldn’t blame him for asking—it was apparent now that something was indeed happening on Lost Cloud.

“If I chicken out now, I’ll never live it down… I need to apologize. Don really was a piece of shit, I was just mad about the money.” The deck of was freshly stained a beautiful, rich cherry, while my sails finally boasted one percent mithril content—the canopies anyway. My new ship was a real beaut’, but damn did it clean out my coffers.

“I know you guys go way back, but who’s to say he doesn’t just stick you the moment he sees you? Isn’t that how he got his name?”

“Ehh, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“And really,” Han had failed to be subtle about this subject over the last couple weeks, “Who’s to say he was lying about that crazy saint? They say Baum Chetner earned two ancient mithril coins just for being her jester for an evening. Coulda spared us an ass-beating and made some money just by throwing Don of all people under the boat—”

“Come onnnn, I get it!” I had to shut him up, “Why do you think we’re going back?!”

___

“What do you mean there’s no landing tax?” Sandy was a serious woman I had known for a long time—One of the harbormasters in charge of Hangman’s Cove’s inbound traffic. “Is it a holiday or something?”

“Oh, no.” Sandy chuckled with a strangely warm glow about her, “Captain Wick is preoccupied at the moment, so Hangman’s Cove is currently under rule of the People’s Temporary Republic of Dreadheart. Lost Cloud residents don’t pay fees, taxes, or tariffs.”

“The… People’s what?” Did I perhaps… make a grave mistake in crossing Jimbo?

“Hang on,” Han, ever diligent, “You sayin’ this Captain Dreadheart we keep hearing about is in charge?”

“No. Wrong again.” She rolled her dark hazel eyes as usual, “Captain Dreadheart just tossed Wick into a corner and disappeared into the night… We’re keeping order until she resurfaces to finish him off. Where have you been? I know Jimbo beat you guys up, but it’s not like it was the first time.”

“Hold on… can you tell me more?” I would have called bullshit as soon as the words left her mouth if it were anyone else.

“Actually, I need you to get out of here so I can get back to work,” Sandy smirked, gesturing to the impatient swashbucklers behind me. “You should be able to find out plenty at the Flyin’ Dutchess.”

Jimbo and I always had a feud, but he never stuck my men in the vitals. Ruthless bastard he is, he seemed to enjoy it more if he simply kicked everyone’s ass. Nothing was more infuriating. There was always one trick or another. It only ever came to a head when I got too drunk anyway… Hard not to lose at that point.

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

“What the hell do we make of that?” Han looked at me with wide eyes as we walked down the ramp to the first level boardwalk. “Even coming from her, it’s gotta be nonsense, right?”

“I don’t know…” I couldn’t help but feel something was off this whole time. “Not a single man in black and gold out today. Just shorts ‘n’ stripes, like the great Undine intended.”

Everyone in the streets seemed weirdly happy and worry-free under the ominous white sun that rested in the sky, centered above the cloudy abyss the cove encircled. Han and I tried to keep a low profile and simply observe as we made our way to the old tavern that lass Milty used to run.

“Did… something happen here?” As the young barmaiden with pink pigtails greeted us with a bright smile, I couldn’t help but notice the trail of bloodstains leading through the doorway.

“Just Pops getting’ himself into trouble with the ladies again,” The young girl rolled her eyes and continued without skipping a beat, “Table for two, or you headin’ to the bar?”

“Hopin’ to talk to the Dutchess. Just show us to the bar and give us somethin’ light.” Something light meant they brought us continuous small glasses instead of big glasses.

The girl was practically glowing. She made a friend over the last month that she made me promise not to tell her mom about. Apparently, there was a fairy with a little black hat that came in the night to teach her sorcery. When I was a kid I had an imaginary friend named Big Franky, so my lips were sealed.

“A fairy, huh?” Han quipped when she returned with our glasses, “Did she mention her name?”

“Nope!” The girl’s pink pigtail’s bobbed as spun around, giggling. “She only talks in funny letters.”

My face cringed in confusion while my mouth was only half full of cold ale.

“Let’s just forget that.” I set down my glass, “I’m sure Dutchy’ll be out soon.”

That damned little girl made us order three rounds before I heard her walk ten feet to the kitchen and ask her mom to come out.

“Ohh, Ripley…” Her sympathetic eyes fell on sight, “We’ve all made stupid choices in life, but… you should really apologize to Jimbo.”

“How?!” I threw my hands up in inadvertent belligerence, “Where is he?!”

She only shrugged. “No one knows. I bet you’re here for the scoop.” The shrewd woman added a wink.

Dutchy had no choice but to continue after Han and I gave her the staredown, and she still flicked her eyelashes in innocence.

“My, that Saint sure is something.” Her voice was low. At this point in the early afternoon, there wasn’t a huge crowd to overhear anyway. “Pops tried to pick her up and cut his own fingers off. I thought Jimbo was blowin’ smoke out his ass too at first, but she gave me a…” she covered her mouth and whispered so quietly I could hardly hear, “an ancient mithril coin…”

“What?!”

Even Han was surprised.

“I heard she passed a bit of it around on Fount Salt…” He had a good way of socializing at any given pub we landed at. “What for?”

His incredulous look left only the truth to be said as Dutchy continued.

“For a keg… because I tried to give it to her for free.” Her face went pale as she recounted the transaction.

“What…?”

“I’m telling you.” Her eyes grew deadly serious. “Haven’t you heard about the Saint’s Pillars?”

“God dammit…” I am so tired of these stupid names. “Yeah, I heard there were three weird pillars of light. What are you driving at? Never mind the random sun above us.” I jerked my head upward.

She refilled our glasses from a pitcher and gave us a gesture with her eyebrows. The moment I slid a few more coins her way, she continued.

“Surely you heard the rumors of Fount Salt… The Hidden Witch, the Saint, Captain Dreadheart. They’re all the same person, I guess. That dismembered girl Jimbo dragged into Hangman’s Cove. They say she’s going to reshape this island like she did the last one.”

“What does that even have to do with whatever the hell is going on around town?” Han cut to the chase, pounding the beer as if the information he demanded was far beyond paid for. “Where the hell is his great majesty King fucking Wick?”

Dutchy hid behind her hand as she laughed to the sky, “Ohhhh, you boys. You’ve missed so much. She snuck into the palace and cleaned him out of all his treasure and most his weapons. Even took high consort Olive away. That boy’s cryin’ in his castle right now while everyone in the Cove is pushing up against his walls. Only a matter of time.”

“Until what?!” The flyin’ wench gave Han the dirtiest look until he finally folded with a reluctant groan. Another gold crown disappeared into her shirt before she bubbled up.

“Hangman’s sun appeared when the three pillars arose. The island quaked for an hour while nothing even moved… Ever since, everyone’s wounds heal themselves within an hour and it’s basically impossible to be sad. Have you tried it yet? Funniest thing, the sun is just low enough, so the hill shades the highest floor of Wick’s tower, but damn. Gotta hand it to those Dreadheart folk.”

I took a moment to finish my beer and ponder to the sky while she swapped me out for a large glass.

Sorcerous Saint Cira… How did Jimbo even fall in with you? I can believe easily enough that he wanted to get the upper hand on Don, but to think the Black Scourge could really fall in a single night. Whatever happened on Fount Salt, I had no idea, but that girl’s running amuck here now.

“So, what the hell were those pillars of light? She didn’t even show up?” Han asked for me.

“Nobody knows…” She shook her head, “But we all felt it. The world almost fell apart, but then it came back together. Don’t know how else to explain it. We heard a fight down on the East side, but nobody was brave enough to go check it out.”

“Maybe we should check the hideout—”

“Wick burned it down,” Dutchy cut me off with a shrug.

“Damn…” Han shook his head. “How ‘bout we try that old bat Kuja?”