❝
CHARLOTTE was there by the edge of the ship, swaying a little against the railing of polished wood, as if admiring the abstract blend of colors moving before her: the sea stretched into the horizon. The mild breeze caressed her skin, pulling on some strands of hair; for a moment, she let the thought of the world that had brought her there escape. She had spent a long time on land, almost forgetting the rhythm of the ocean: soothing, nevertheless.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Kali making her way towards her. As lively as ever, the pirate captain's grin belonged to a person definitely born to the sea. Without a word, she joined Charlotte near the railing and waved a hand toward the deck.
"I suppose you met Ishlah and Farla already, but now I think it's time you meet the rest of the crew. They're a happy lot," said Kali, chuckling while pointing at the people spread across the deck.
Charlotte nodded, following Kali's direction with her gaze as she regarded the crew.
"That there's Obasi," Kali went on to identify a tall, broad-shouldered man who directed the rigging with expert precision. He was tanned darkly, the sun having played its part for years on him while sailing. "He is the boatswain, keeps the ship in line when it comes to the crew and all things maintenance."
Charlotte watched as Obasi gave a command under his breath, immediately followed by an order so clear that all obeyed, eyes fixed to just one man. Though they served in various capacities, she marveled at how that sense of integration vibrated between all on deck.
"Makena is our carpenter," Kali continued, pointing toward a muscular man who was working along the ship's side while equally busy in the maintenance of its hull with quiet intensity. He was lean but solid, in whom the many rivers of experiences passed were mapped upon his face in deep creases around his eyes. "He is the one you want for anything hit—he is sharp on it."
Next, Kali motioned toward the crow's nest where a figure stood looking out over the sea. "There's Nyoka. He is one of our scouts and lookouts. Keeping eyes out for anything that may be heading our way. A fine pair of eyes, that one." Kali smirked knowingly.
Charlotte squinted up at Nyoka, seeing nothing more than a shadow of a man who looked both relaxed and alert while serenely perched up high.
"Barakhal's the one with the cannon," Kali pointed with her chin towards a massive, imposing man operating a ship's weapon. In a strong stance and with some hardness about him that made it clear he had no hesitation whatsoever when it came to a fight; "He is the one in charge of any weapons and whatever else that might need some firepower."
Charlotte felt Barakhal's weight even where she stood. As she kept on scrutinizing the crew, her eye fell upon a figure who appeared almost out of place among the others. A tall and striking person stood almost in the center of the deck; he seized her immediate gaze.
Anekha glided across the deck as if possessed by an ethereal grace, with skin fair as moonlight, in stark contrast to the sun-browned crew. Silvery-white hair was simply braided and loosely hung behind him, catching the sunlight. Charlotte's eyes went first to that soft, translucent pink—a color really pink could not quite manage—that looked into some abyss of knowledge yet was so delicate none of the other men seemed to hold. Sculpted features with high cheekbones and softly curving lips bestowed one final lift as an androgynous beauty dusting the line between existence and vision.
Charlotte's mind automatically conjured an idea that he must be a woman. The way he moved, floating almost, across the deck with an elegance that left the other members of the crew actually looking like they were on a marching drill seemed firmly set in the feminine category.
"That's Anekha," Kali said, bringing Charlotte's attention back to the captain. "He's our apothecary. Keeps everyone patched up when things go south. But don't let his looks fool you—he's a man."
Charlotte blinked, feeling very much surprised. She had indeed assumed Anekha a woman, with all the beauty and delicate movement giving her no reason to think otherwise until Kali spoke.
Kali laughed when she saw Charlotte at an impasse. "I know, I know. It happens all too often. Anekha is mistaken for a woman all the time. His voice throws people off, too."
Charlotte followed very closely as Anekha was ever so calmly striding toward them. There was a silent semblance of grace in him, the sunlight almost adoringly captured his skin. His albino traits stood out ever so glaringly in daylight, his pale skin, his white-blonde hair, and any glimmer of that soft and near-ethereal charm setting him apart from the rest of the crew.
As Anekha neared, Charlotte felt the atmosphere change; he emanated calm assuredness, and his gaze met hers with an almost unnerving silence.
"You must be the new guest," he said, and his voice was deep and rich, with an undertone that made it impossible to mistake his gender. "Kali's told me about you."
Awareness of his distinct masculine voice descended on Charlotte as he spoke. It was low but smooth enough, and there was no mistaking the strength in it. She caught herself forced to look for a moment beyond what was socially acceptable.
"Uh–I'm sorry," Charlotte said and felt herself blushing a little. "I thought you were–"
"A woman?" Anekha interjected, his smile very kind and knowing, as though he had heard it more often than he could count. "It's understandable. I tend to confuse people quite a bit with my appearance. With my hair, with my skin color... In fact, people often think I'm among the women, especially when they don't hear me speak."
Charlotte felt a little embarrassed, but under the glow of Anekha's aura, she had a little courage. Nodding slowly, she rubbed her eyes and glanced at him, still absorbing the sight of this most unusual gentleman. "I...I was not expecting someone like you."
Anekha chuckled, a soft flow of warmth. "Most don't. But yes, I'm a male. I guess that's just how I was born. Also I'm an albino, you see," his voice soft but steady. "People with albinism usually have skin and hair like mine, but the condition comes with some drawbacks especially with the eyes—pink like the dusk sky. Being a little bright, the sun above can be harsh; hence I always keep my hat on when it is too bright."
He adjusted his wide-brimmed hat with a grin, all the while keeping the shade on his eyes. "Well, I have learned how to make it work."
Charlotte could not help but marvel at Anekha's self-presenting demeanor. Perhaps due to this apparent incongruity, Anekha conveyed an almost unshakeable, quiet confident enthusiasm, backed by however powerfully calm demeanor he was projecting. Oddness, on the other hand, made for an interesting sized identity for him.
"Well, in a rather light, teasing tone," Anekha continued, "there are perks to my looks too. I know I could just slip anonymously among the crowd, or so I'm told. Very seldom do I have to put a pause to my ears and fight back for stealing attention."
Charlotte smiled, with more ease now. "I can see that," she said, laughing. "Sorry again for making that assumption."
Anekha shook his head warmly. "None taken. It happens. It is one of the more common mistakes. By the way, it ain't the worst one; I've had quite a few."
With shining pale skin in the sunlight, Anekha seemed to glow as he turned back to go, and Charlotte couldn't help but admire him. He was unlike anybody she had ever met, and for every oddity in his appearance, there was some sort of unquestionable grace and appeal.
"You will get used to him," Kali said with a grin. "He is good to have around. A healer and thinker. Just don't expect him to answer when you call him 'ma'am'."
Soft laughter departed Charlotte's lips, blowing away the last of the tension brought with her earlier confusion. Strange and varied were the crew, but Anekha was definitely the most unexpected of them all, all the more intriguing to her.
Kali then turned to a few others and swept her hand over the group. "Rama, Ajak, Eshlo, and Khalani—they're good hands. Each one's got their own role but mostly they help out wherever there's a need."
Charlotte smiled and waved while the men looked her way, each one giving her a nod or brief glance, their faces warm and welcoming.
"And then there's Jaiah," Kali's voice grew softer as she gestured to a woman whose skin was a striking tawn color, and whose hair was tied back in a messy braid. "She has been with us for some time now, and she is more than capable around the galley. A good woman to have around."
Charlotte returned Jaiah's smile, inwardly observing a subdued strength within her aura.
"And this, here," Kali started to say, voice tinged with affection, "is Tavira, the ship's cook. She's more than a cook, really. She's...a sort of mother for all of us." Charlotte turned and looked toward Tavira and straightaway perceived just how an older woman moves. She was in front of food but her moves radiated authority, commanding the kitchen that runs with a calm firm energy. Her skin, like most of the crew, was burnt brown by the caressing touch of the sun through years of living. Her long and dark hair was left not bunned, leaving its silky tail trailing behind. Her expression was quite sober most of the time, but therein lay an unmistakable warmth.
"She is the oldest amongst us," proclaimed Kali fondly, holding Tavira in her eyes. "Older than me, even. But don't let that fool you. She's not just here to cook. She makes sure no one is hungry, and she's always the first to come in when someone needs looking after."Charlotte watched Tavira relating to the crew. She saw quiet wisdom in her eyes, and even from a distance, it could be told that Tavira had an insight into the ship's steering, especially in case of emergencies. She could hear Tavira's voice now and then rising in gentle yet firm reprimands when one of the men dared to slack off, though there was no malice in it - just a deep care for each member of the crew.
"And, of course," Kali amended with a grin, "she loves scolding everyone, especially when they don't follow her orders in the galley. Well, she has a heart as big as the ocean under that fierce facade. You'll see why I said that."
Charlotte found herself staring at the woman as she moved around managing the meal preparations. Ablaze with self-magnification, somehow, even in subtlety, the needless speeches commanding attention. A few delicate gestures while checking that each crewmember had had their share—there was something about her presence that grounded people on her. Though placed in the cook's position, somehow, she appeared to be holding the crew together as any captain would.
Tavira held out, jerking on Charlotte. She gave her a passing nod and continued working, and it was enough for Charlotte to smile. There's something kind in Tavira's eyes, though not spoken.
"You will find," Kali said in a voice softer than the rest, as if to share a secret, "that in times of need-for advice or just a person who will listen attentively-it's Tavira who pitches in. She is the glue that holds this ship together. And believe me, we all know we'd be a little lost without her...even if she does give us a good earful every now and then."
Charlotte nodded and took note while watching Tavira lay her work, one the image of strength and nurturing all at once. Clearly, while Tavira wore the mantle of a mother very well, she was also a woman whose respect could not easily be earned-a power in her own right. "Sometimes I think she's the real captain of this ship," said Kali with a laugh, "but don't tell her I said that."
Charlotte couldn't help but giggle; she already felt warm toward Tavira. It was clear that, despite her formidable buff exterior, the heart of the woman was her compass guiding everyone in the new crew. Charlotte knew that someday she was going to learn a great deal from her.
The sun was going down and spreading its warm golden hue across the horizon as the ship swayed softly with the rhythm of the sea. Standing now by side, facing the ocean, at the edge of the deck with Kali, she was watching the sun dipping slowly behind the waves. Winds blew softly and the air was cool and fresh while their hairs danced along with the sea breeze as they both leaned on the rail. It was a peaceful moment that took Charlotte far away from the uproar of the land, an unexpected solace aboard a pirate ship.
Kali, standing beside her, lifted her chin and drew in another deep breath of salty air. A vague smile touched her lips. Her usually strong exterior turned tender in the dying sunlight that bared a rare kind of vulnerability.
"You know, " Kali said, breaking the hushed silence with a voice much softer than usual. "The crew... they are not just a bunch of people who got tossed somewhere in the world. We have deeper links among us. We come from the northern tribe of Afkaans. A nation surrounded by water like this."
Charlotte cast her a sidelong glance. Wide-eyed, she asked, "Afkaans? I don't think I have ever heard of it."
Kali nodded. She stared out at the horizon as though trying to find something very far away. "It's a harsh land surrounded by nothing but water, but we learned to survive there and it's where all our ancestors come from. You see, we're descendants of Isloria. You might have heard of him."
Charlotte shook her head, drawing her curiosity to the surface.
Kali had a barely-there smile on her lips as it went on, "Isloria was our great-great-great grandfather. The bloodline of his family has always been passed on from generation to generation. One of Isloria's family members becomes the captain of this ship, as Azalik is our captain now."
Charlotte delivered the heft of that statement. The very thought of a family stretching back as probably ancient as into the unhoused lineage of these persons was surreal. She glanced over at Azalik, standing near the wheel of the ship, eyes lost in his furrowed thoughts. She had always thought something special about him, but hearing about his family ties shed more light on it.
"Kali turned her gaze to Charlotte, her expression suddenly serious. "Azalik is not a captain by birth. It isn't easy for him. He fought for it. There is one story... a hard one. One few know.""
Charlotte leaned in, the towel propping her chin blowing off her body. "What happened?"
Kali sighed, turning her gaze inward as if the memory weighed. "From the moment he learned to talk and walk, he was being groomed to be the next captain. But it was more than that; it always was more than that. It became his test: a challenge put up between him and the other boys from the tribe by his father."
Charlotte blinked, failing to understand what Kali meant. "A challenge? What kind of challenge?"
Kali's eyes darkened and her voice turned somber. "The challenge was to find treasures in the sea. They spent weeks out there, days without food or proper rest, navigating treacherous waters, facing dangerous storms, and fighting off sickness. The boys were growing weaker by the day, but Azalik's father refused to let them return to shore. He said that if no one could finish the challenge, no one would become the new captain. And no one would get the treasure, either."
Charlotte sank her heart deep in her chest as she listened. It sounded like the toughest test of all. She could imagine, with some degree of clarity, the boys, worn out and sick, savoring their dream of returning home.
"But wouldn't they have to come back throughout it all?" Charlotte inquired, her voice quietened. "I mean... they were sick."
Kali nodded gravely, her eyes darkening. "One of the crew members spoke up. They were concerned. They said they should head back before any of them died out there. But Azalik's father refused. He said if no one finished the challenge, no one would win the reward. He'd promised to pay those who helped him, but when it came time, he refused. That's when everything started to unravel."
Charlotte's brows furrowed in confusion, "But why? Why refuse to pay?"
Kali's jaw tightened. "Because he didn't want to lose face. He was proud, stubborn. And he believed that the only way to prove someone was worthy of being captain was through that challenge. He didn't care if they were sick. He didn't care about their lives. He was so obsessed with his vision of leadership that he was willing to sacrifice them all for it."
Charlotte swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the story. It was cruel—too cruel. But Perhaad's tragedy was no measure of ending here.
"Some of the men were furious," said Kali, her voice firmer now. "Not only were they not getting paid, but it was also clear to them how much suffering the boys were going through. So they protested. The tension was high, and soon a few of the men were saying, 'Let's throw Azalik's father into the sea,' but they didn't throw him in; they beat him up. They were led by a man named Rajah,
Kali's voice turned darker, remembering the events. "Rajah... he led the protest. He was furious, not just about the money but about the situation: the boys were sick, barely able to stand, and their lives were put at risk. They didn't care about treasure anymore. They wanted to live."
Charlotte felt the tension building in the tale through her brow furrowing. "And then what happened?"
Kali continued, her tone heavy with the weight of the past. "Rajah got too close to the edge of the upper deck while confronting Azalik's father. He lost his balance, pulling Azalik's father with him, and the next thing anyone knew, the lanterns caught fire, and the whole ship went up in flames. It sank to the bottom of the ocean. They lost everything that day, the treasure, lives of some of the crew, and Azalik's father."
Charlotte gasped. The scenes were stunning in her mind; wild pandemonium, fire, the rushing toward survival as the ship sank. She could not imagine the kind of agony Azalik must have gone through, losing not only his father but the whole crew and the ship that had been his bequest.
Kali's eyes softened slightly in the direction of Charlotte. "Azalik had to grow up fast after that. The loss of his father, the betrayal by some of the crew... it shaped him into the captain he is now. He doesn't show it, but he carries it— the pain, the weight of leadership... all on him to bear now."
Charlotte stood still for a moment, absorbing it all. The waves stretched before old and new like the waters Kali spoke of. Today she respected Azalik and saw him for the strength he had inside, the strength he never showed.
"He's one strong man," Charlotte said at length in soft whispers full of admiration.
Kali gave a short, almost imperceptible nod. "He is. And sometimes... sometimes the strongest men carry the heaviest burdens."
Together they lingered a little longer, with the waves gently caressing the hull in fading flashes of light from out of the dying sun. For a moment, the world seemed a touch smaller, pulling together in silence the bond between them, the sea, the crew, and the pain they had all known.
For a moment, Charlotte's gaze lingered on the horizon, before she turned back to Kali, softly asking, "What happened to the boys?"
Kali's expression softened. "Azalik didn't leave them behind. Even with the fire and chaos, he and the others managed to save the sick boys using the spare boats."
She leaned on the wooden railing, eyes distant. "They rowed through thick smoke and dying light, guiding the boys back to the tribe. It wasn't easy—some of those lads could barely breathe. But Azalik… he never let go of a single one."
Charlotte spoke with quiet awe, "And they made it?"
"They did," Kali confirmed, "All thanks to the Elder."
Charlotte frowned. "The Elder?"
"She was the tribe's apothecary back then. And Anekha's grandmother," said Kali, smiling lightly. "Sharp-tongued and tougher than any sailor I've ever met. The moment Azalik and the others docked, she sprang into action—didn't wait for anyone's word. Mixed herbs, chanted old prayers, stitched wounds with her own hands."
A light laugh escaped Kali. "She even scolded Azalik for dragging blood into her hut. Called him a reckless fool... but she didn't hold back on treating them, not once."
Charlotte tried to smile but only half succeeded. "She sounds... fierce."
"She was. Still is, and in her own way. Most of those boys lived because of her. And because Azalik chooses people over gold."
Sheepskin shadowed the silence as Charlotte whispered, "He is more than a captain."
Kali raised her look to meet hers. "He is the reason many of us are still breathing."
Charlotte tilted her head, a curiosity flickering within her eyes. "What about you, Kali? What's your story?"
Kali chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, mine's nothing worth telling. Just a boring tale."
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "I doubt that."
"Well..." Kali leaned back against a crate, arms crossed, a grin gradually overtaking her face. "Captain—Azalik—he's my cousin. So I got dragged into all this mess. And my sister? She is one of the tribe's infamous cooks. Once cooked a feast so good, it stopped two clans from going to war. I was just the loud-mouthed girl they dragged along because I could fight and didn't mind the sea."
Charlotte smiled softly. "Still sounds more interesting than my life so far."Kali laughed. "Maybe. But y'know..."Her voice lowered slightly, playful and sweet. "I used to dream of being a captain myself. First woman in our tribe to ever do it. I had even picked a name for my ship."She gave a bright wide smile, though something seemed wistful in her eyes.
"Of course that dream's about as likely as fish learning to fly. But hey, a girl can dream, right?"Charlotte smiled, catching the light behind Kali's jest. "Maybe not as unlikely as you think."Kali shot her a sidelong glance, a smirk at the corner of her mouth.
"Careful now, love. Give me hope, and I may yet steal this ship under Azalik's nose."Kali's grin stayed plastered as she looked out to the deck with the breeze flowing across her mint-blue hair.
But then a deep unmistakable voice roared from afar, "Kali! Need a hand here!"She felt it appropriate to roll her eyes fondly and smirked. "Always the demanding cousin," she muttered. She straightened, winked playfully at Charlotte. "Duty calls, princess. We'll talk more when we aren't surrounded by salt and ropes."
Charlotte nodded and watched as Kali strode away toward the opposite end of the ship, where Azalik was already all tangled up in a net full of gear.
Just as she turned her gaze back toward the horizon, a familiar voice husked gently behind her.
"Seems you are getting comfortable."