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Uncharted Waters
The sea breeze blew her midnight blue hair. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt like she was going to burst.
She twirled her sword in her hand and gripped it tightly. An extension of her hand. "The sword is an extension of your hand." These thoughts kept swimming through her mind.
They had been boarded. As she was drinking her mint tea amidst the peace and quiet, suddenly there were shouts from the other end of the ship.
Another ship and its crew were attacking her crew. Her ship. They wouldn't get away with it.
So here she was, ready to pounce on some man who considered himself a big deal.
She narrowed her eyes at him. Lean muscles, well-dressed, toothy smile—a typical big-eyed, cocky, and narcissistic person. They fought for a long time amidst the cacophony when she finally managed to stab him in the stomach and send him unconscious to the floor. She climbed the ropes and up the mast for a better view.
They all fought tooth and nail. That's what she loved about her crew—how loyal and faithful they were. Attacking them was not new. Whoever dared to touch them always got what they deserved. But now... now she wasn't so sure if they would make it. They were caught in a moment of weakness. No one had expected this. They had appeared out of nowhere. Literally!
"Azara! Lie down!"
She jumped onto the deck, drew her dagger from the hip holster, and slashed the throats of two men surrounding her best friend, her right hand, her second. It was a good thing she called out to her; otherwise, she would have had a knife stuck in her head. She looked at Sophia from head to toe, putting the dagger into the holster and pulling out the sword. "Are you okay, Soph?"
"Perfect. I've never been better." She blew a lock of reddish hair from her face and went back to battle. Azara too.
She didn't know how long they had been holding the front, but there seemed to be no end to these people. You kill them, they spawn new ones.
Maybe they wouldn't make it.
"Ahhh!" hissed the brave captain, who had just been cut in the thigh by the saber of this black beauty. Her pants were soaked with a copious amount of blood. It stung and was warm and it was spreading down the length of her leg. The opponent fought very decently. She was pretty tough.
Azara clutched at her wounded leg and dropped her sword to the ground with a clatter. She looked at Sophia, her most faithful person, her second self. At Marx, her guide, if you could say so, the voice of reason, who always knew what to do, always. It seemed he had no hopes either. Now, tired and exhausted, they fought with all their might to protect themselves...
Suddenly, people with towels in hand jumped on board and ran towards their captors. There was already a towel on the black woman's face, held by a strong hand to the area of the nose and mouth, and she was staring blankly at Azara with wide eyes. Her eyes squinted shut and she passed out on the floorboards. They all passed out on the boards. They drugged them. Great. There was no way out.
She reached for her dagger to attack the man in front of her with the towel. She pushed him and pressed him against the post with the dagger at his throat, ready to tear him open at the second.
"Come on now, I'm saving your skin and you want to ruin my neck. It doesn't work like that!"
"I really have no idea what you're talking about." Drops of blood trickled down his neck like beads.
"Hey, beautiful, let's put poor Nick aside and have a civilized conversation like a captain to a captain, okay?" A man appeared, well dressed in a shirt, leather pants, and boots, adorned with an endless number of necklaces and rings. He jumped with magnificent grace from his place on the kegs and landed on two feet. He exuded confidence and calmness. He held everything in his hands and he knew it.
It burned Azara in the chest, but she straightened her back, raised her head, and looked at him disinterestedly. "First of all, I'm not your 'beautiful.' Secondly, how are you going to tell me how to have a conversation? And thirdly, how do you know I'm the captain?"
The captain pulled out a blade and began twirling it. "Let's answer the questions then. Can't I appreciate beauty when I see it? As for the conversation, don't you think it would be much more appropriate without your dagger stuck in my friend's throat? And about you being a captain, I have my sources."
Her heart began to beat frantically at his look of complete dominance. How he handled the situation with such patience and composure, like the waters of a calm sea concealing something dangerous beneath the surface. Her veins would burst.
"My name is Kai Greco."
"I didn't ask." her words as cold as ice
"Is this how you show your gratitude to those who helped you, beautiful?" he asked in a voice so cheerful, all his teeth on display. She wanted to punch him, to wipe that bittersweet smile from his tensing face. Every nerve in her body wanted to fight him. To regain the upper hand slipping through her fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass.
"I'm not your 'beautiful.'" got the words out so harshly.
"You'd better tell me your name, or else I'll have to call you that." His eyes fixed directly on hers, as if they were looking for something, something deeply hidden.
"Azara. Azara Marchi."
Kai repeated the name as if he wanted to feel it on his tongue. "The pleasure is mine, Azara. A fiery name for a stubborn woman." He sheathed his blade, snapped his fingers, gave orders to his crew to clear the fallen people, and looked her up and down. "Now let's go talk. Let's hope I can answer all the questions swirling around in that head of yours." Kai turned and walked down to the cabins for more privacy. It was like he owned the ship. He didn't know at all.
"Come on, beautiful!" He turned his head and presented a stunning smile.
"I'll kill you," Azara muttered to herself. Kai walked past a sailor. "The healer will come in fifteen minutes to the captain's cabin to sew up her wound." The sailor nodded and disappeared.
Kai turned to the captain of the ship. "You wouldn't want to do that, Captain!" he answered her muttered threat with a sneer.
Kai ducked into the shadows on the stairs down, and Azara followed, angry, stunned, but also grateful. She just hoped she wasn't making some huge mistake.
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She twirled her sword in her hand and gripped it tightly. An extension of her hand. "The sword is an extension of your hand." These thoughts kept swimming through her mind.
They had been boarded. As she was drinking her mint tea amidst the peace and quiet, suddenly there were shouts from the other end of the ship.
Another ship and its crew were attacking her crew. Her ship. They wouldn't get away with it.
So here she was, ready to pounce on some man who considered himself a big deal.
She narrowed her eyes at him. Lean muscles, well-dressed, toothy smile—a typical big-eyed, cocky, and narcissistic person. They fought for a long time amidst the cacophony when she finally managed to stab him in the stomach and send him unconscious to the floor. She climbed the ropes and up the mast for a better view.
They all fought tooth and nail. That's what she loved about her crew—how loyal and faithful they were. Attacking them was not new. Whoever dared to touch them always got what they deserved. But now... now she wasn't so sure if they would make it. They were caught in a moment of weakness. No one had expected this. They had appeared out of nowhere. Literally!
"Azara! Lie down!"
She jumped onto the deck, drew her dagger from the hip holster, and slashed the throats of two men surrounding her best friend, her right hand, her second. It was a good thing she called out to her; otherwise, she would have had a knife stuck in her head. She looked at Sophia from head to toe, putting the dagger into the holster and pulling out the sword. "Are you okay, Soph?"
"Perfect. I've never been better." She blew a lock of reddish hair from her face and went back to battle. Azara too.
She didn't know how long they had been holding the front, but there seemed to be no end to these people. You kill them, they spawn new ones.
Maybe they wouldn't make it.
"Ahhh!" hissed the brave captain, who had just been cut in the thigh by the saber of this black beauty. Her pants were soaked with a copious amount of blood. It stung and was warm and it was spreading down the length of her leg. The opponent fought very decently. She was pretty tough.
Azara clutched at her wounded leg and dropped her sword to the ground with a clatter. She looked at Sophia, her most faithful person, her second self. At Marx, her guide, if you could say so, the voice of reason, who always knew what to do, always. It seemed he had no hopes either. Now, tired and exhausted, they fought with all their might to protect themselves...
Suddenly, people with towels in hand jumped on board and ran towards their captors. There was already a towel on the black woman's face, held by a strong hand to the area of the nose and mouth, and she was staring blankly at Azara with wide eyes. Her eyes squinted shut and she passed out on the floorboards. They all passed out on the boards. They drugged them. Great. There was no way out.
She reached for her dagger to attack the man in front of her with the towel. She pushed him and pressed him against the post with the dagger at his throat, ready to tear him open at the second.
"Come on now, I'm saving your skin and you want to ruin my neck. It doesn't work like that!"
"I really have no idea what you're talking about." Drops of blood trickled down his neck like beads.
"Hey, beautiful, let's put poor Nick aside and have a civilized conversation like a captain to a captain, okay?" A man appeared, well dressed in a shirt, leather pants, and boots, adorned with an endless number of necklaces and rings. He jumped with magnificent grace from his place on the kegs and landed on two feet. He exuded confidence and calmness. He held everything in his hands and he knew it.
It burned Azara in the chest, but she straightened her back, raised her head, and looked at him disinterestedly. "First of all, I'm not your 'beautiful.' Secondly, how are you going to tell me how to have a conversation? And thirdly, how do you know I'm the captain?"
The captain pulled out a blade and began twirling it. "Let's answer the questions then. Can't I appreciate beauty when I see it? As for the conversation, don't you think it would be much more appropriate without your dagger stuck in my friend's throat? And about you being a captain, I have my sources."
Her heart began to beat frantically at his look of complete dominance. How he handled the situation with such patience and composure, like the waters of a calm sea concealing something dangerous beneath the surface. Her veins would burst.
"My name is Kai Greco."
"I didn't ask." her words as cold as ice
"Is this how you show your gratitude to those who helped you, beautiful?" he asked in a voice so cheerful, all his teeth on display. She wanted to punch him, to wipe that bittersweet smile from his tensing face. Every nerve in her body wanted to fight him. To regain the upper hand slipping through her fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass.
"I'm not your 'beautiful.'" got the words out so harshly.
"You'd better tell me your name, or else I'll have to call you that." His eyes fixed directly on hers, as if they were looking for something, something deeply hidden.
"Azara. Azara Marchi."
Kai repeated the name as if he wanted to feel it on his tongue. "The pleasure is mine, Azara. A fiery name for a stubborn woman." He sheathed his blade, snapped his fingers, gave orders to his crew to clear the fallen people, and looked her up and down. "Now let's go talk. Let's hope I can answer all the questions swirling around in that head of yours." Kai turned and walked down to the cabins for more privacy. It was like he owned the ship. He didn't know at all.
"Come on, beautiful!" He turned his head and presented a stunning smile.
"I'll kill you," Azara muttered to herself. Kai walked past a sailor. "The healer will come in fifteen minutes to the captain's cabin to sew up her wound." The sailor nodded and disappeared.
Kai turned to the captain of the ship. "You wouldn't want to do that, Captain!" he answered her muttered threat with a sneer.
Kai ducked into the shadows on the stairs down, and Azara followed, angry, stunned, but also grateful. She just hoped she wasn't making some huge mistake.
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