The Open Sea II

“I was told to expect the princess of Ka'Ilyah, but to snag an unknown Sapia is an interesting catch indeed.”

The red-haired girl circled Haruki as he squirmed, tied to a tree trunk.

Her ponytail swayed when she paced, and toned muscles defined themselves when she crossed her arms. Her open-chested white dress shirt stood in contrast to her blazing hair and matching skirt, while a corset pushed up her already generous breasts. When she would walk, her boots would crunch the sand—surely, her footfalls would crush bone if she wanted to.

Haruki met the gaze of her sea-blue eyes. “What do you want from us?”

“I already told you,” she answered, then turned to Anemone, who was bound to a wooden post jutting from the ground. “The Federacy's been expecting the princess of Ka'Ilyah to cross the Keltic Sea for a while now. Didn't know how she would, but I guess we have our answer now.”

Somehow, the thought of all this being a set-up by Marina wasn't surprising.

“Federacy soldiers, I assume?”

A short man almost two heads shorter than the girl stomped forward. He looked more like a buff, muscular pancake than a guy. “Blimey, no! We're no dirty government dogs.”

The girl nodded. “We're the Redwing Pirates, proud and true.

Anemone’s expression brightened. “Pirates? Real pirates? I thought they were just make-believe!”

And to Haruki, all of this was also make-believe until yesterday. Actually, Anemone, can you not be so happy about all of this?

“Of course we're real, lass,” said the pancake man. “Is it true what they say of these leaf lovers, ignorant of the world outside their stoneless forests?”

The girl kicked him aside, and he rolled over like a ball. “Hold your tongue. Have some class and show respect to royalty, no matter who they may be.”

The man groaned. “Sorry, princess.”

“Princess?” Haruki raised a brow.

“Ah, that's just something they call me here in the Redwing Pirates,” she said, planting her hands on her hip. “I'm Flare Cavernheart, current de facto leader of our motley crew.”

“Flare. Okay,” Haruki said, taking a breath. “Did Marina put you up to this?”

“Marina?” Flare stroked her chin. “Name’s familiar. But it's been a while since we've been on the lookout for the princess. So whoever tipped us first had already slipped my mind by now.”

“How long have you been waiting for her?”

“Two years, more or less.”

“That's an awfully long time. Must've been quite the bounty.”

“Sure.” Flare paced again. “Two years is nothing when the riches you're promised will last you half a decade—and this is with all our crew combined.”

“That's impressive, actually.”

“So it is,” she said, then unsheathed her blade and pointed it at Haruki. “But you're not part of the bounty. Normally I'd kill you, but from your outfit, I can tell the strange contraption is yours. It's not of elven make.”

“You guessed right,” Haruki said, exchanging a fierce stare with Flare.

“You don't look the type to talk, so maybe I'll force the details out of you.”

A wind began to billow from the east—not from the direction of the storm. A faint green light emanated from Anemone and her hair fluttered upward. Her eyes burned with anger.

“Let us go,” she said, voice almost growling. “You harm one hair on Sir Haruki, and I'll—”

Flare drew the blade close to Haruki's throat, her eyes as sharp as its edge. “You'll what? Your bounty is still worth a hundredfold from what we'll get sparing him.”

“It's okay.” Haruki shook his head and gave Anemone a sympathetic look. “We'll be fine.”

Flare shrugged. “Yeah, you'll be alright,” she said. “Relatively.”

Anemone scoffed. “So you really are just cutthroats. I had such a romantic image of pirates.”

“Geez,” Flare said, scratching her head. “Both of these things can be true all at once.”

Flare swung her sword like a baton in the direction of the shore. “Take ‘em. We head out before the storm approaches.” She turned to the pancake-like muscleman. “Stow the machine in the carrier. Toss out an old ballista or catapult if you have to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ancient war machines are no longer worth studying or even trading. We work on something new now.”

The pancake man stood at attention. “Yes, princess.”

“H-Hey!” Haruki struggled with his ropes. “Don't touch the thing! You might break something. I honestly have no idea how I'll put it back together if you do.”

Flare grinned. “That's what we're bringing you in for. And if we break it, well, too bad. But don't worry—my men pride ourselves in our skills not to break machines—by accident.”

Several more men shaped like the pancake man emerged from behind the treeline and hauled Haruki and Anemone into the shore of the island, carrying them like pigs ready for roasting. They reached the shore, where three large wooden galleons waited ashore on the beach, their shadows casting over the sans. One of them was significantly larger than the rest, looking more like a small-version of a modern carrier shaped out of wood than a discovery-era ship.

Old, wooden catapults littered the surface of the ship, alongside bronze-coated ballistae with mechanisms that looked worn, teething on broken. Small men tossed a catapult and a ballista overboard, crashing into the sea with a powerful splash. These same men, with titanic strength, picked up the Kenichi Modern and placed it where the siege weapons once stood. Flare, alongside her aide, carried the captive Haruki and Anemone onboard.

The pancake-like men already on board raised the sails at the center of the deck when Flare boarded, as if on cue.

Flare then hollered at her crew. “Merry men!”

Everyone froze and turned towards Flare, most even standing on wires and poles like birds on transmission wires.

Flare clapped her hands. “We have guests today, as you can see,” she said, then shook her head and laughed. “And no, they're not fish food this time. So why don't we give ‘em a good old Redwing Pirate greeting?”

“Aye, captain!” The crew responded in unison.

The crew of pancake men assembled themselves into a line with Flare taking her place in the center. Three of them stepped back, perched on the mast, and began playing guitars and bongos.

Flare yodeled, and the crew followed. She then began to sing, and when she did, the rest of the pirates sang. They would alternate, with Flare singing first, and the crew following. Then they would holler first, and Flare would do so next.

They danced merry, and sang merry, complimented by an impressive acrobatic show on tightropes.

Haruki’s jaw dropped. It was like watching a musical. He could only wonder why—and pinched himself to see if he was dreaming.

As for Anemone, wonder had returned to her face. It seemed like any trace of animosity she had built for the pirates had all but vanished—even though she was still bound as their prisoner.

The men flipped Flare into the air. She spun thrice then landed with a sword flourish.

“Glad to have you on board, princess of Ka'Ilyah… and guy.”

“Oh, so I'm just ‘guy’, huh?”

“I don't think we've been introduced.”

Haruki rolled his eyes. “You do this song and dance number all the time? You look like you've got it rehearsed to perfection.”

“You have to keep occupied when you're days out at sea, somehow.”

“Right…” Haruki sighed. “So you really got your sea shanties practiced.”

Flare chuckled. “Glad you like it.”

He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

The crew froze again for a moment. Then, when a pin dropped, scowls and frowns replaced their smiles, like someone had just changed the channel and tuned them to Anger TV. Two pairs of men tugged Haruki and Anemone further into the ship and below deck. Though they struggled, the men's sheer strength proved too overpowering.

Even Flare's sunny disposition was replaced by grumpiness, and an iron glower befitting someone who commands others.

“Men! Nail everything down if you haven't yet.” She yelled.

“And the boy's machine,” the aide asked. “What of it? Do we nail it down too?”

Flare squinted, inspecting the machine. Her eyes went down to its landing gear.

“No,” she said, shaking her head with a curious smile. “It shall be Redwing Pirate property now. Let's give it the good ‘ol sea legs, shall we?”