Beneath the churning, raging sea, far beyond what the eye could see. A groan rose, so massive it seemed to echo from the bones of the world. The stormclouds pulsed in response, reforming, invigorated by the cry.
Abigail and Demetri lay sprawled out across the deck, rain washing and pouring on their weary faces. Kael and the rest of the crew gathered around, checking in on their captain and scout. Despite their concern, though, their attention wasn't altogether there.
Low, ancient rumblings shivered through the air. The colossal arm of blue flesh slowly coiled back, retreating to its master below.
Dozens of sailors struggled upright, bloody and bruised and barely breathing.
Not a single soul looked away as the abomination withdrew.
Slow, it seemed, torturously slow. Breaths held, eyes widened, they continued to watch as the tentacle furled, wrapping into itself as it vanished beyond the rainline.
When it made itself to the horizon, relief washed, it was out of their sight.
How horrifying, it was out of their sight…
Only the sound of wind remained, the creaking of wood, and the soft, pitiless rocking of waves, pushing the ship wherever Amphriyammrra [1]pleased.
Silence stirred; nobody dared to break it, they could only ruminate in it.
How could they? An encounter with a monster of the deep, a beloved spawn of the abyss, how could they not treasure this moment of peace and silence after the chaos that just transpired? Who would da-
"Ba ha ha!"
Every head turned, gazes aimed at one person, their captain.
Even in such a situation?
Bruised, battered, soaked to the bone with blood, muck, sweat — and still the centre of attention.
Kael looked at her knowingly, the tension in his face loosening by degrees.
Nearby, the middle-aged woman shook her head and smiled softly to herself.
The bald man was also there, holding his shoulder in pain, mouth agape.
"Let this be a lesson, everyone! Don't mess with Captain Abigail if you don't want the Queen's Resurgance to blow some holes in ya! Muah ha hcgh–"
Her laugh collapsed into a rasping cough halfway through.
Pfft.
A snort escaped someone. Then another. Then a wheezing laugh.
The tension broke like a snapped line.
The deck erupted — a cacophony of ragged chuckles, barks, belly-laughs, and relieved, shuddering wheezes. Laughter that tasted of salt, sweat, and the thinnest kind of survival.
"Slow down, Cap'n!"
"Someone get er a drink fore she drowns in muck!"
The ship's maid rushed out with a flagon in hand. Captain Abby gratefully accepted the drink, holding onto the maid's soft, shaking hands for an inappropriate length of time. Her face turned scarlet, but the fear dissipated.
She gulped down the drink, letting out a quenched exhale, and finished off with a wink.
"Thanks for that, missy," her voice husky with exhaustion and mischief.
"I never got your name, did I? Wait. Save it for now — you can tell me all about yourself in my quarters."
"Ahahah!" The bellowing laughs continued at the spectacle of their captain's awful attempts at flirting, flashing her famously disgusting perverted smile.
Below lay Demetri, posed in a starfish sprawl, so still that everyone seemed to have forgotten he was there.
Even Abigail, still weak, sat up cross-legged nearby, tightly holding onto the flagon with both hands like a child's stuffed toy.
He muttered to himself. My headband, my headband. He placed his hand on his forehead, eyes widened.
He searched around his body, feeling for fabric. Red scarf, red scarf. There! It was finally found, neatly tucked in at his waist. He clutched it tightly and quickly wove it around his forehead.
Abigail leaned back with theatrical exhaustion, still nursing the flagon. "Ahh, nothing like victory, booze, and beautiful women to keep the blood flowing."
She pointed at a nearby sailor — a wiry fellow who blinked in surprise. "You too, darling, don't think I've forgotten about you. I've got room in my quarters for two."
Groans and laughter rippled again.
"Careful," someone shouted, "she's aiming to repopulate the whole crew by morning!"
"Ahh, she's gonna get all the men pregnant!"
Even the wounded were laughing now. Hoarse, sore, half-dazed, but laughing.
Abigail's eyes flicked across the deck.
They were scraped and soaked and a little broken, but they were alive. Both the crew and the ship, she was just as strong, if not stronger, than her crew.
"Dogshit…" a trailing, pathetic voice emerged from below.
Demetri was still in a starfish pose, "... Captain… you're dogshit at flirting." his final words before drifting asleep.
This time, the roaring laughter that swept through the crew was the largest it'd ever been.
The maid panickedly scrambled around, rushing into the deck below to fill flagons out of a metallic keg, and then rushing back out to satisfy the sailors.
Abigail's performance turned the scene into one of fishermen celebrating an unprecedented catch. The harrowing destruction and appearance of the sea monster were seemingly all an illusion.
Only after many hours did the laughter die down alongside the supply of rum and brandy.
…
The waning dot of flame in the distance sank, and the oceanic skies descended into twilight. On the pure black canvas, a beautiful painting, the Milky Way. Shining bright lights suspended in the darkness, colourful auroras of vivid greens, purples, and pinks stretched out, brief interludes of swirling cyan clouds broke up the black, a lingering residue of the day.
Night fell on the unruly crowd, drifting aloft the sea. Engine busted, sails shattered, yet they drank themselves silly, napping on the deck, like innocent children at a sleepover, tucked to bed by doting parents.
Only three remained awake.
Demetri sat propped against a broken barrel, scarf re-tied, eyes on the stars.
Gingerly and groggily, he grounded his feet and pushed, propping himself up.
He made his way to the other two.
Kael crouched beside the helm, fidgeting with a frayed rope in his hands.
And the priest stood with his back to the rail, watching the horizon in silence.
Demetri cleared his throat softly. "Didn't think we'd live to see stars again."
Kael didn't look up. "Didn't think the ship would, either."
The priest spoke without turning. "The sea shows mercy when she's amused. Or bored."
"Mercy, huh?" Demetri chuckled nervously, "Hope she stays bored, what's the damage?"
Kael held up the frayed line. "Take your pick. Engine's dead. Main mast cracked halfway through. Rigging's useless."
"And you, child?"
Demetri shifted on the spot, "Me? I'm fine, hehe." he lifted his hand to adjust his scarf, but eventually decided against it.
"Your scarf," the priest turned to face him. "You hold it dear?"
Kael looked up from his twining to listen in, nobody had seen him without his scarf after all.
"Ah, yes. It's, my mother gave it to me."
The priest hummed thoughtfully. "Strange. I remember only one time you didn't wear it. The night we first met you."
Demetri's eyes drifted up and then back down. "The night… Oh! Yes, at, at, erm. Macy's! You came to recruit me then."
The priest nodded slowly. "Mm. You stood by the hearth. No scarf then. Just a boy with sharp eyes and a hideous hairdo."
Demetri scratched the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. "Still got the haircut, unfortunately."
Kael offered a dry grunt of agreement. "Tragic." he'd finished the rope and was now busy knitting the torn sails, the cloth sprawled across as he knitted on his knees.
The needle used was more like a drill. A dry shriek rang out as it rotated at high speeds to penetrate the sails.
"So, begs the question, why were you no-"
"Khn [2]Zamar, I think we ought to let Demetri get to work, ey? He's rested enough." Kael interrupted the priest Zamar, nodding at Demetri. "We're helpless prey right now, I'd feel a lot better if we had Demetri back at work.
"Y… yeah, I'll get to it."
Khn Zamar was disgruntled but still let the conversation die there and turned back to face the unlit sea.
Demetri looked over the broken main mast where his nest once was. He exhaled and deflated. My crow's nest, he moped.
A sharp whistling sound reached his ears, he looked over at Kael, who clicked his tongue playfully and pointed towards the rear mast, which was still standing proud.
As Demetri walked past the hardworking lieutenant, Kael cleared his throat. "What's it been, couple months since you joined us? We were all surprised, you know, most everyone else here joined Abby cause we've known her a while, or had some connections to her father."
This was the first Demetri had heard of such a thing, though it did make sense when he thought about it. Abigail's goals and the way she went about them were just too crazy; only people who knew and trusted her would go along with it.
"I guess that makes sense, unless someone knew her and trusted her, they'd just think of her as a crazy girl with a pirate obsession." Demetri paused, his right eye awkwardly squinted, and he observed Kael cautiously. "They're right, of course."
When he noticed Kael didn't get offended, only dryly chuckled, he continued.
"But I'm also starting to realise how amazing she is."
To those words, Kael flashed a smile, his eyes had the usual bags, his face was pale, his dark hair shaggy, but it was a genuinely bright and cheery smile.
"All right, then I guess I'll keep it short. Whatever reasons brought you onto this ship, it better not be the only thing keeping you here. Apart from us being stranded at sea, of course."
Demetri gave a weak laugh. "Well, I don't see myself getting off anytime soon."
"Go on then, man, enjoy looking at your stars."
The riggings felt strange to him as he climbed. They weren't the same as on the main mast; the material was the same, of course, but he could feel the difference in tension and spacing. It took a colossal sea titan for him to realise it, but he'd made that crow's nest his sweet home.
At the top of the motel, uncomfortably sitting on the edge of the boom of the rear mast, Demetri took a deep breath.
His skin tingled from the cool night breeze, carrying the salty spray that settled like a fine mist on his face.
From up there, the repugnant smell of puke and alcohol no longer reached his nose.
Beneath him, the ocean rolled slow and wide, not gentle—never gentle—but steady now, like… like the heartbeat of a massive creature recovering from rage. Waiting to strike again.
For a moment, Demetri wasn't sure if that thumping was from the sea… or himself.
He pressed a palm to his chest. His heart thudded slowly, but heavily. His fingertips trembled, just a little.
Without thinking, he reached into his pack and pulled out the spyglass. His fingers shook as he raised it to his eye, scanning the black horizon with frantic vigilance.
Better to watch. Better to see it coming. I won't be caught unaware again.
Better than standing still and feeling the sea clawing at him from below.
Not a moment for the rest of that night, did Demetri look away from his spyglass.
[1] I called her "Selene" or smth in the previous vol, that was just a placeholder name.
[2] It's basically what ppl from Carthage called their priests