Would you sacrifice everything you ever knew....
The festival was alive with light, color, and dancing. Children ran rampant in the streets adorning masks and giggling, sparklers in hand and smiles on their faces. The adults were drinking and socializing near the booths set up with food and liquor. One man stood out among the rest. He wore a captain's uniform, the crest of the sea sewn to one of the suit‘s broad shoulders. His skin was pale, his hair long and rich blonde, his eyes an almost unfriendly fierce green.
The festival was one that happened every year, meant to celebrate the formation of the world as they knew it, and to unite the Gods and humans in an entanglement of purity and protection. Hundreds of thousands of years ago land masses were formed to protect the humans from the beasts and abominations of the sea. In exchange for this protection from the Gods, the humans would give unshakeable human purity as a reward. Human purity was easily tested, though the humans went completely unaware of these ‘tests’. Every 500 years the Gods would take the form of one of the seven deadly sins, and test individual members of the lands. Until now… They had passed. Until now…. They had been pure. Once the purity of humans became non existent, so did the protection of the Gods.
“Daddy, daddy!!”
The voice of a little girl broke his focus, his daughter. She stared up at him with adorable blue-green eyes, the same blonde hair as his, and a smile that could warm any heart. So innocent, so pure… His fourteen year old daughter reflected everything he used to be. Everything he couldn‘t ever be again. She was showing him her mask. It was made of bright blue sapphire, gems not being rare in this land, the eyes crystal clear and made of glass.
“Isn‘t it pretty?”
There was hope in her eyes, hope that her father would always extinguish. Hope was for the weak, the unsuspecting and the unprepared. His eyes held no conviction and his stature held only masculinity and power. If the towns people didn‘t know him, this man would be the last they would expect to be a father. Raising a glass of blood red wine to his lips, he sipped, still staring down at the slowly disappearing smile on his daughter‘s face.
“Run along and play, Victoria.”
He said without emotion, watching the play of emotion on her face. The most prominent was distain, mostly because he had used her full name. She had always hated it, insisting that everyone refer to her as ‘Tori‘ instead. Sighing, she took off and disappeared into the group of children who were playing with their masks and showing them to their parents as well. It was best he kept her at a distance. Maybe then she would keep her nose out of what he would be doing later…
…….To gain everything you ever wanted?
Wraith came in pale stashes of ash when the charred remains of prisoner and pirate ships appeared over the horizon. With the wind of the sea piloting the remains of the long dead bodies toward shore, people could see what war had done. The cold hand of death took their love ones on that day; the day Roman ‘One eye’ Jones killed the wife of Redd Barnett over fear of what he could not have. The Act of Blood had been shed upon the masses to view.
Pride ruled the world with his vigor; never was wrong even when he knew he was lying. Jamison Ale, trot and noble with a chin stuck up high to keep his eyes gazing down on the less important. He sat in trail, his old enemy, the artist gazing in the gallows; there Jamison lied claiming that none of his property could fail to bloom in Ester though Ester hadn’t bloomed in years. Jamison could never admit his prized estate was nothing more than a farce and yet he tricked the poor artist with a stroke of a pen. Lead him to Ester, beautiful Ester, and to death’s embrace. Thus was the Act of Arrogance, never admitting he was wrong the legs of the artist dangled in the breeze signed by the mark of Ale.
Gluttony poured in with the women as the stormed into the parlor; food, drink, and open breast filling the air as the pirates watched their money slip away. All that glorious booty; all that glorious ale, gone was the stolen money burned in exchange for the frivolous matters. However, even with all the glorious whores and ale; Malcolm Murray hadn’t had enough. The new whore, the non-whore, the Madame that sold whores caught his eye; with night bringing in the shadows, his men stole these tree women and on a ship in the stowaway they were his. With rape three, gluttony came to be since Malcolm could not have his fill and thus The Act of Pigs went out to sea, three stowaways dying of all their sanity.
Envy stared with fierce green eyes as he watched Captain Richard Tryte enter the pub with his wife. He wasn't fit to possess the love of such a beautiful woman, especially while his mistress watched from the corner. Bejaman Bennan had always been a jealous man, had to have the successess of others. He fed off of the energy and hard work of those around him, took their livelihood for himself. And on that stormy night he took what was meant to be his, though he failed to realize that Mrs. Victoria Tryte was fully in love with her husband, fully protective of her daughter, and as Benjamen Bennan tried to take her she lost her life as he hovered above her, choking the air from her lungs, his eyes burning green. "You are mine." Was all that left his lips, as thunder cracked outside and lightening lit his face.
Greed Watched the children play from a nearby festival booth, counting money in his lap. His eyes shined bright in the flashing lightening as women and children ran for cover, the storm breaking up the happy crowd. Thousands of paper currency he counted, stolen from the pockets of those passed by. The life of a pickpocket was never easy. Running his tongue over cracked smiling lips he continued to count, his eyes darting around to make sure he wasn't being watched. He would be a rich man indeed. Although he was already one of the richest men in Bale, it wasn't good enough. He wanted more, needed more, absolutely had to have more. A hysterical almost loon like cackle came from his lips as he finished counting, lightening striking the ground not even two feet from his booth, but he stayed unmoved, his grin unshakeable.
Lust burned into the eyes of his mistress, leaving his wife and child behind to lay in the arms of a woman he didn't love. Captain Richard Tryte stared up at the ceiling, having left the festival for her warm embrace and tempting curves. While his wife lay dieing in their two story home and their daughter run amock in the city streets trying to find shelter, he lay in the arms of his seductive homewrecking lover. There was no guilt in his heart, no shame in his body. He was a man, meant to be unfaithful... Right?
Sloth came with the sound of all their acts; every moan of pleasure or hurt, every laugh for abundance over need, and every scream of death caused by the arrogance and fears of men. All of the acts of these island born humans…the spawn of former good men and women; all of them were to bare fault in apathy. They know of all the sins and the men who did so and yet none of them act to prevent such a thing. Citizens of the world wish to stand on the side and ridicule the ones who do act against such horrible people. Apathy allows for the sins of men to take place and thus their sloth has caused all the evils of the world to happen.
* * * *
Upon the bars and shackles a criminal presides…
The waves crash onto the cliff side near the elevated plateau where, deep within the graded rock resides cells. There view of the firework display is wonderful; unadulterated by the height of men and the height of men with a child on their shoulders. Steel bars only block a portion of their view, leaving these incarcerated men to tilt their heads in awkward angles yet they watch the glorious sky set ablaze; including Orien who sits on his stone bed.
This pirate, a man who embraces the role of scoundrel, is covered in the same smelly clothes he wore on that day most his friends were killed. Now, as a way of torture, one by one the Bale Men killed off the remaining three by starving, firing squad and the gallows. Lily Liana’s last remnant was certainly next with his last days coming in that coming week. There was no doubt in Orien’s mind that death was to come—he had a feeling. This gurgling feeling that caused his eyes to stare at the darkened clouds in the backdrop only became stronger when he noticed the seas violent actions.
Sea and air formed a serpent of water. It spun and contorted in little spout until a large beast roared behind it even. Standing from his stone haven, Orien shoved one of the weaker prisoners to the side as he gripped onto the bars to stare at the beach…the tide was ghastly low. Turning his head to look toward the guard that watch, he smiled, “Death awaits my friend—
The guard tilted his head proudly, “Only for you, b*****d.”
—Oh no no…” Orien tilted his head back to exaggerate himself smelling the air, “I can smell it. The smell of dead children…” His smiled faded as he slowly approached the guard partitioned between steel clad, “I can smell your blood on my hands just before it’s washed away by the sea water…”
Angered, the guard unsheathed his sword, “You son of a Bit—
Screams filled the air along with a thunderous boom and sound of crackles. Behind Orien, through the barred window, the tornado—the wind serpent—could be seen along with the pieces of the pier and bodies of still living humans who were at the mercy of the beast. Behind that beast were its twins ripping and tearing the pear to hell once approached them.
“This isn’t even the worse part!” Orien proclaimed loudly as the other prisoners all ran toward the gates begging to be released. The guard, overwhelmed, stepped away from the bars frightened he couldn’t think of what to do. Suddenly another boom came, it rattled the cave loosening the steel gate as the serpent hit the Cliffside—ripping a hole into the prison wall. The idiot prisoners decided to jump, leaving the safety of the gate to clinch on to fall to their deaths at the rocky body where no tide had been for five minutes.
“Here it comes…”
Soon, a wall of water rushed through the pier and into the cliff rushing gallons upon gallons of water into the cells. Orien was pressed against the steels bars waiting for the rush to break open his cell and once it did he bolted out—with his hands using the bars to maintain his balance. The guard, slipping and falling from the water, tried to apprehend Orien but failed when he slipped right into his grasp. Using the rough and ridged shackles, Orien chiseled through his neck before dropping the body to be sucked through the giant hole in the wall. Just as he promised, Orien’s hands were washed of the bloody purged. Now he was left to wait until the storm calmed.
An hour passed, Orien along with two bloating bodies sat in the hall as the other guards finally came to check on the prisoners. He stood, greeting them with a half bow, his hands rose in the air to show the bonding that held him. The Warden stood next to the Mayor of Bale Hughes Bale IV watching Orien in amazement since they expected everyone to be dead here. Two guards grabbed the unruly pirate pulling him through the halls toward the high officials. There, upon passing them, Orien looked at Hughes Bale and asked, “With what navy will you go about hunting us pirates with now, Bale?”
Orien was right. The Bale Navy was at sea when the storm hit when the tsunami hit but what Orien was completely unaware of was the fact that he’d given Bale an idea.
Two months passed, Orien was perplexed at how he was still alive. Not only was he alive, he’d been given new clothes, good food, and the ability to shave off the disgusting matted hair on his face. They even called him into the mayor’s office where he sat in a waiting room with other nobles. Soon, the secretary opened the door calling him in. Apprehensively, he walked through the doors—expecting to be shot to death upon entering—where Hughes Bale IV handed him an official document; The Creed.
“Let us skip the formalities, Seward.” The older Hughes turned his back to him to gaze out of the large window. “You were right; I don’t have a capable Navy anymore.”
Orien simply stared at The Creed not understanding anything that was going on, “Um, you know I can’t read, right?”
Hughes’ laughed as he completely forgot the lack of education most Hardship men had. “Well, Seward, you are now my navy…you pirates. Thank you for the idea.”
...when once upon nobility and hardship, a criminal is forced to become a savior.
And as the seas unleashed their wraith...
The first violent blow of sand and sea water left her breathless, knocking her small lithe form off of her feet and sending her clawing at the nearby buildings for any sort of purchase. She smacked against the brick and legs of other people, blonde hair becoming matted and salty. Her screams were left unheard, her father nowhere in site. No comfort came in the arms of a strong family member or the voice of her mother, which would never be heard again.
Her world blurred and darkened as she slammed against the wall of the prison and stopped, water rushing over her body and preventing her from breathing. Once it subsided she coughed, hacking up gallons of salty water and dirty, her eyes watery and burning. She tried to scream for help, tried to find any kind of shelter to protect her from the numerous oncoming assaults, but nothing came.
Victoria Tryte the second thought for sure that this was the end of her short 14 year old life, the wall of water miles away tall and threatening. She could hear the others screaming, the city of Bale wiped clean with the power of the sea. This was it... She was going to die at the hands of mother nature, something she had always highly respected.
Two strong hands grabbed her shoulders and hauled her to her feet, a man she barely recognized staring at her bloodied brow and frowning at her disoriented stature. "Isn't this Richard Tryte's daughter?!" The man shouted over the noise. That's when she recognized him. The mayor. She couldn't speak, couldn't even hold herself up, eyes fixed on the wall of water rushing toward them.
"Yes sir!"
She heard one of the prison guards shout, her eyes shifting to set on the prisoner in their grasp. She wasn't afraid. He was no threat compared to the devestation slaughtering hundreds of festival celebrators. And that was the last thing she saw before unconsciousness took her, Orien's amused smirk and mother nature's squabble.
She was carried to safety before the second blow could strike her down, and when she woke she was on a bench in the mayor's house, soaked but covered in towels and blankets, the prisoner from before chained to the bench beside her. Sitting up, she coughed, willing air into her lungs as striking blue eyes drifted over the man beside her. He was shaggy and unkempt, skin and bones from the looks of his draping clothing.
She hadn't seen her father in the two months that passed, while she worked in the house of the mayor and helped the prison guards keep an eye on Orien. It hadn't been in the cards before but since the devestation many were lost, others were uncounted for, including her father. She had nowhere else to go while the city washed away and many mourned the deaths of loved ones, and so she stayed. Hearing the proposition, no... The demand of the mayor on the head of Orien, her eyes widened.
Pirates would be the new navy.... When his gaze turned to her, her features hardened. Dropping everything she was doing, she stepped up to him and reminded him of her father's ship, of his occupation. Bale ships had not all been navy manned, her father's had been a pirates ship working for Bale, to make the city rich and loot from the wealthier lands.
"I want to go.... I want to be a hand on my father's ship. And if he isn't alive... I wish to take his place."
She spoke up, surprising the man who wasn't used to being commanded by women. Looking over the strong looking teen, he furrowed his brows. A woman... A child at that, could never take her father's place. However, they were short handed when it came to men, most of the prisoners perished, and the daughter of a highly renouned captain would surely be trustworthy.
"So be it."
And so became her fate. Once her father had been found, holding the dead remains of his mistress and surely not the man he used to be, he was recruited into the same business, only with his daughter on crew. Well, who used to be his daughter. She was different now, a new light shed on their situation when she became aware of her mother's rape and murder, and her father's infedelity. If she had to take orders, they wouldn't be from the likes of him.
....A new hero is born
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