The Highest Highs

Somewhere, above the storm-laden skies… a queen waits.

The Dominion, for all its size and might, was not without its flaws. In their hubris, petty rivalries between their rulers and overextended borders left cracks for the cunning to exploit. For pirate queens like Eryssa, these cracks were where she thrived.

This—more than plundered gold or captured relics—was her greatest treasure.

Information. Power.

The Might of Ruutia, her black-wooded galleon brimming with enchantments and shadowsteel weaponry, drifted lazily above the icy peaks of Mount Zephyr. If her information was correct and the omens aligned, a gap in the Dominion’s supply convoys would soon present itself. If her ship could slip past their enchanted wards, the Dominion would be none the wiser.

Eryssa leaned forward in her captain’s chair, her dark eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Below, nestled between jagged cliffs, lay her prize.

A barren, windswept valley with little to recommend it—yet the faint shimmer of magical wards hinted at secrets buried beneath its unassuming surface. Kethron’s Hollow had long been whispered about as one of the Dominion’s hidden strongholds. Here, in the shadow of ancient ruins, the Dominion trained its goblin battalions and stockpiled the alchemical components necessary for their war machine.

For Eryssa, this was an opportunity too good to ignore.

Still, pulling off this heist would require a level of precision her crew had not displayed in years. This was no ordinary fortress—this was the heart of a vast empire, and any misstep could mean death for them all.

Not that the thought of the Dominion’s soldiers scared her. It was her crew she worried about. This was one of the first times she’d taken full responsibility for their lives. And if she failed… she didn’t want to think about it.

Eryssa sighed, tipping back a goblet of spiced cider. The sharp tang lingered on her tongue. She smirked. Ever the odd one among her kind. She couldn’t stomach ale or mead, much less the excessive drinking competitions her peers seemed to thrive on. At auctions in the Guild, she was often the butt of their jokes, even before she’d gone rogue.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, as it often did. "Not everything has to be solved with brute force or muscle. Let others swing their axes while you find the cracks in the armour."

How ironic, then, that she was about to rob the very empire her family had once sworn fealty to.

Knocking at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. Her ears twitched. "Enter."

The wooden planks creaked as heavy footsteps crossed the room. In her peripheral vision, she saw a figure easily twice her size step into the dim candlelight. Lys, her first mate, was a rarity among pirates. Towering and broad-shouldered, his scaled hide shimmered faintly under the light—an Ashenkin in full. 

Most of his kind would rather die than stoop to piracy, yet here he was, wearing leathers adorned with stolen sigils and charms.

"Report?"

"You know me."

"Our wind-warding spells are intact, and the hull repairs are holding steady. The weapons are in decent condition, though our shield talismans… remain temperamental after the last raid."

Eryssa groaned. "Come on, even you have to admit I couldn’t have predicted that storm elemental. It would take an act of the gods to foresee that."

"Be that as it may," Lys replied coolly, "had you prepared for the possibility of resistance instead of chasing shadows, you might have avoided it altogether. I’ve told you before: our line of work demands more than gambles and fairytales. You must be ready for the unexpected."

"You and your bloody honour. We’re pirates."

"Pirating is no excuse to be reckless."

"Well, I think it’s reckless for you to go against the very Dominion that cast you out. Why go on this raid at all?"

Lys didn’t respond. His silence, as always, carried weight.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I just…"

"It would take more than your words to wound me," he interrupted, his tone even. "Now, has the supply rotation changed since we last checked?"

"Triple-checked. Still the same."

"Then it is settled." He nodded. "Our scouts will move at dawn."

"Not even a sarcastic quip?"

"I’ve long since learned that arguing with you is a losing battle."

"Not even when we’re about to rob your former overlords?" Eryssa teased, grinning.

Lys paused, his scaled brow furrowing slightly. "I only fight battles worth winning."

And with that, he turned, his heavy footsteps fading into the shadows.

Eryssa leaned back in her chair, the silence in the room pressing down on her like a weight. 

She had always hated that silence, the way it seemed to strip away her confidence and leave her alone with her doubts.