Surprise!!!! And another new story!! I just couldn't resist!!! The "Create story" button is addictive!!! And before there are any questions, yes, I did watch "Pirates of the Caribbean" and yup, I liked it a looooooooooooooot and yeah, it did inspire me:P

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Escaflowne!


CHAPTER 1 Black sails

Memory was overrated.

Or so he tried telling himself and failed believing it. Somehow, the fact that he didn't know his own birthday bothered him more than he was willing to admit. It wasn't so much the celebration of the day but that he didn't know his age and a few other facts about his life angered him. He just didn't know why. It shouldn't be important.

He tilted his head backwards and looked into the clear blue sky.

The sun warmed his tanned skin and a light breeze ruffled through his raven-black hair, making the strands tickle over his cheeks. He took a deep breath and the strong scent of fish and seaweed pricked in his nose. Licking his rough lips, he could taste salt. It was everywhere on his clothes, on his skin, in his eyelashes, creating a fine crust that cracked everytime he rubbed over it.

A flock of white seagulls was circling above his head, their cries filling the air while the wind chased white clouds across the sky. He shifted his position and sat up, a warm smile appearing on his lips when he looked at the endless expanse of sparkling blue around him.

He sat in the crow's nest, a small platform, attached to the top of a thick mast of a huge ship. Two other dark-brown masts were shooting up behind him, rooted in the wooden hull underneath. Arm-thick ropes connected the masts with each other and with the ground, giving them stability as well as the rigging which looked like an over-sized net of a spider. The ship wasn't moving, the big sails rolled up. They had just finished repairing the sails after the thunderstorm the night before and the ship was still anchored, swaying softly from side to side with the waves. The sound of them hitting the hull reached him faintly, the heavy wood creaking with the movements of the ship.

He loved the ocean. He had loved it as long as he could remember and he would forever, that was for sure. He felt home at sea. Despite the thunderstorms, the risk of drowning and the sheer endless loneliness, he felt secure. The sea gave him constancy and freedom. He admired and respected the sea that seemed to have her own personality. Wild and vivacious, doing like she pleased; brutal and merciless, pulling ships into her boundless depths to never let them return again; calm, just like now, looking as if she couldn't hurt a fly. Independent.

He blinked. Shading his sparkling auburn eyes with his right hand, he knitted his brows and focused on the horizon. He was sure he had seen something. His eyes were trained for he was always sitting in the crow's nest and watching the ocean. With the years, it had become his place. Not only a place to look for prey but also to escape the trouble on the deck and be alone. His eyes suddenly widened and he reached for the slim telescope, lying beside him. Closing his left eye, he positioned it in front of his right eye, a huge grin appearing on his face. Within a second, he was on his feet and leaned over the railing.

"Ship ahead!" he yelled at the top of his lungs and his voice echoed out over the sea, bouncing off the waves. "Ship ahead!"

At once, the life returned at the deck. The men who had slept in the shadows awoke from their slumber and jumped to their feet, the ones who had sharpened their swords or simply had played cards now stopped their activities to run to the bow of the ship. A door burst open and a tall man stumbled out of a cabin, trying to slip into his jacket. He wore dark brown pants which vanished in brown leather boots that reached his knees, his blue shirt covered by his jacket. His handsome face was framed by long blond hair, tamed loosely by a black ribbon.

"Van, where?" he screamed, focusing his piercing blue eyes on the crow's nest which was surrounded by seagulls.

"Right ahead, captain!" came the faint reply and the blond-haired man headed for the bow.

At least twenty men were gathering there, shading their eyes and staring at the horizon intently. Looking around, he spotted a black-haired man in the crowd who was holding a leathery telescope in front of his right eye and walked over to him.

"Gaddes," the captain said.

Gaddes turned around and the wind tugged at his beige shirt, a green vest covering it and the long sleeves vanishing in brown gloves. He gave his captain the telescope through which he had just looked, a broad grin on his face.

"Looks pretty good, captain," he commented and the blond-haired man closed his left eye.

In the small circle, he saw a part of the dark-blue ocean which was sprinkled with the white foam crowns of the waves, a sharp line separating it from the sky. And right there, on this line, was a white dot. A ship, with sails sparkling in the sunlight. A light grin tugged at the captain's lips when he looked up, Gaddes watching him curiously.

"And?" he asked with raised brows, a light breeze ruffling his short hair which was sparkling a dark blue.

"It's a trading ship, probably from Cesario," the captain replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "They're using the old routes because they think that they're safer. The fools."

"So, you think there's something in it for us?" Gaddes looked at the horizon again, knitting his brows to shield his deep-brown eyes from the sunlight.

"There's always something in it for us, Gaddes," the blue-eyed man stated calmly and took a deep breath. "Weigh anchor and make sail! We're gonna scare the lights out of some landlubbers!"

His voice echoed over the sea and faded in the endlessness of the sparkling blue expanse, causing cheers to erupt from the men on the deck. Their hoarse cries filled the air when they jumped into the rigging and began to climb up to the spars where the sails were fastened. A big grin on his face, Van turned around in order to hoist the flag. He pulled at a thin string and at once, a piece of black clothing crawled its way up the mast, the wind tugging at it violently. It turned and swirled and finally revealed a grinning, white skull on black background with a pair of white, crossed swords underneath it.

Without wasting any more time, Van grabbed the railing of the crow's nest firmly and jumped over it. With a thud, he landed steadily on a thick spar, the wind tearing madly at his pitch-black hair and sleeveless, red shirt. The young man kneeled down and pulled a dagger out of his right boot, the silver blade sparkling in the sunlight. He cut through the rope which was holding the sails together at the spars with a quick motion and repeated that action at the other three ropes, balancing over the spar without any problems.

The wind rustled through the fabric of the sail and made it unroll, after Van had cut through the last rope. With an elegant motion the sail unfolded completely, the wind causing waves to crawl over the black fabric. Looking around, Van saw that some other sails also unfolded, the wind trapped within their folds. The young man grabbed a rope which was swaying beside him and using it as support, he jumped down onto the next spar. A man with a red scarf and tufts of short black hair sticking out from underneath it was already busy, trying to untie the knot in the rope, his dagger between his teeth.

"Yo, Reeden! Why do you struggle with the knot when it is so easy?" Van asked and kneeling down, he cut through the rope.

"Aw, Van!" the slim man complained from the other side of the spar after he had taken the dagger out of his mouth, seeing what Van was doing. "I was really at pains to make the knots all conscientiously! And, stop that!"

But it was too late. Van had already cut the next rope, chuckling. "Go to your mother, Reeden, and cry your eyes out at her skirt! It's just a damn knot!"

"Stop bad-mouthing my mother, Van!" Reeden replied angrily, waving his dagger. "She was a good woman! All caring and friendly and..." he trailed off, noticing that the raven-haired youth was long gone.

He looked down at the knot and then sighing, cut the rope. With a rustling noise the huge sail unfolded gracefully.

Meanwhile, four men were trying to weigh the anchor at both sides of the ship. The wooden hull jerked when the heavy iron anchors were finally lifted from the ground of the sea, the chains rustling while they were rolled up on a spool. Some others were pulling on various ropes, trying to tame the sails, shouts and the sound of boots stomping over wooden boards filling the deck.

Letting the rough rope slip through his gloved hands, Van slid down until he reached the deck. He could feel the heat of the friction through the leather covering his palms. Dusting his hands off on his thighs, he reached for his sword which was leaning against the first of the three thick masts. He smiled, feeling the heavy weight in his hands and quickly wrapped the leather belt with the blue sheath around his waist. Looking up, he saw that now all black sails were unfolded and swelled proudly in the strong wind; three rectangular sails attached to each mast and three triangular sails spanned between them and connected the first mast with the bowsprit.

"Van?" a young, feminine voice caught his attention and made him turn around.

His auburn eyes met sparkling blue ones. They belonged to a young woman with shoulder-long and shining pink hair, brown pointed cat-ears sticking out of it. Her skin was even more tanned than Van's one and she had three black stripes on both of her cheeks, upper arms and legs. She wore a once white apron over her orange dress, trails of her fingers visible where she had cleaned them on the apron.

"Merle," he said and a warm smile spread widely across his features. "What are you doing here?"

"I was making lunch when I heard the yells and shouts and I wanted to know what happened," she replied, looking around with curious eyes and her ears twitched. "So, what's the matter?"

"Lunch will have to wait," Van answered, pointing over his shoulder. "We spotted a trading ship."

"Ah, that's perfect timing!" Merle clapped her hands happily, her tail swaying excitedly from side to side. "Our provision is drawing to an end! I was down in the stocks and..."

"Merle, what are you doing here?" a deep voice interrupted her, making the cat-girl role her eyes.

"Am I not allowed to go on deck and breathe some fresh air?!" Her ears were pressed flat against her head in slight annoyance. "If I have to stay down there in this musty kitchen for the rest of my life, just tell me!"

"Don't be so dramatic," the captain said calmly, not paying any attention to Merle's outburst. "I'm just worried and I don't want to see you up here when we start. So please, go down again and hide!"

Merle was about to complain but swallowed her reply when she saw the look in the captain's eyes, knowing that she would get the worst of it like she usually did.

"Aye, captain!" she saluted, her eyes glowing angrily and turned around to head for the door which lead under deck, stomping.

A light smile on his face, the captain turned around and faced Van. "Come Van, all help is needed by aligning the sails."

"Aye, Allen."

Sitting cross-legged on wooden ground and leaning with his back against a box, a young man turned a card absently between his fingers. He was running with his thumb over the smooth surface of the spade queen while his bright blue eyes were focused on something on the ground in front of him, his brows knitted in concentration. He blew a strand of red hair out of his face which fell instantly back in place and then leaned forward. Taking a deep breath, he took another card from the deck and placed it together with the spade queen on top of a huge house of cards.

With a satisfied grin on his face, he withdrew his slightly shaking hands and exhaled slowly. But right then, the wind increased and made the house of cards shake.

"No!" the red-haired youth said and tried to protect his work with his hands.

But it was already too late. A strong breeze tugged at his hair and blew across the cards, lifting them into the air. A light chuckle could be heard when the wind scattered the cards carefully across the deck.

"That's not funny, Meneus!" the blue-eyed boy hissed and glared at Meneus who was lying outstretched on the deck beside him, arms linked behind his head and eyes closed, enjoying the sun that was warming him.

"Oh yes, it is!" he replied and opened one eye, grinning at his friend. "It is cause that happened the third time now and you don't want to understand that it is impossible to built a house of cards on deck, Elias!"

The red head snorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Meneus shook his head and after running a hand through his short, black hair, he stretched noisily and sat up. It was quiet on the deck, only the wooden hull creaked with the soft swaying of the ship and a seagull cried every now and then. Some men on the ship were rolling up unused ropes while they hummed an old sailor song, their voices mixing with the sound of the waves crashing against the hull. Above that, the yells of a short man could be heard who was chasing a pelican across the deck with his brush.

"Man, it's pretty rare that the sea is that calm," Meneus stated and leaned against Elias' box. "If the weather doesn't change drastically, we'll reach Basram sooner than we expected."

"And I'll see Danah again." Elias smiled a silly smile, causing Meneus to smack him over the head.

"It's been months since you've last been in Basram!" he said. "She has surely forgotten you!"

"No, not her." Elias sighed and his friend merely roll his brown eyes.

The pulleys clinked against each other and white sails rustled when the wind freshened again, making the cards jump over the deck. Elias rose from the ground and began picking up the cards, his friend watching him. The wind had carried a few of them almost to the bow of the ship and the young man could pick up the last card before the wind pushed it into the water. With a sigh, Elias straightened and looked at the sea. The water was sparkling intensely, ruffled softly by the sea breeze. He frowned by spotting something at the horizon.

"Meneus!" he called and his friend looked up. "Bring me the telescope!"

"Can't you get it yourself?" Annoyance was swinging in his voice when he replied.

"Just bring it here, okay?" Elias shouted and Meneus rose to his feet, grumbling.

He reached for the telescope which was lying on the box beside him and slowly walked across the deck to Elias. A seagull cried above them and the red-head pointed at the horizon, making Meneus frown. There was a dark spot in front of the light-blue background which was the sky. If it was a ship then why didn't their observer say anything? He lifted the telescope and looked ahead.

"A ship! A black ship!" he gasped, seeing the black hull and the black sails clearly in front of his eye. His gaze trailed up the mast and his hands shook lightly, his eyes widening by spotting the flag. "Pirates!"

Elias inhaled sharply and dropped the cards he had been holding, the wind carrying them away. He ran across the deck and nearly stumbled over thick dew which was lying there, carelessly thrown away. Some crew members were running past him on their way to the bow, the young man pushing them out of his way. He saw the big, brass-bound bell sparkling ominously and without hesitating, he grabbed the rope and rang the bell, the high sound echoing into the sky.

With a loud thud, a door burst open and hit the wall. In the doorframe stood the old captain, his brown trousers and green shirt crumpled, indicating that he had been sleeping. He was completely awake now and the sound of the alarm bell rang in his ears. Shoulder-long grey hair framed his wrinkled face and his clear brown eyes scanned the deck.

"What?" he barked and Elias just pointed to the other side of the ship.

The old man turned around and ran off, Elias following him. They heard the murmurs of the crew from afar and it turned into a whisper when the captain approached. The grey-haired man looked around and spotting the ship, he gasped.

"Pirates!" Meneus said, handing the captain the telescope.

"What? Why did you let them come so close without sounding the alarm earlier? I guess that bastard fell asleep again, up there!" the captain replied angrily and after gruffly grabbing the telescope, he held it in front of his right eye. "I swear I'll kill the gods!"

Slowly, he pulled back, his mouth half open, his eyes wide in shock. He gulped and his voice shook. "If the legends are true, we're all doomed to die."

"They're altering their course!" Allen's voice echoed across the deck of the Black Lady. "Kio!"

"Ack ack Kio, they alter their course ack."

"Kio, alter our course!" the blond-haired man yelled at the top of his lungs, trying to drown the sound of the waves crashing against the wooden hull.

They were sailing under full sails and the hull was rearing up whenever a huge wave raised it, only to crash into the sea again, spray soaking the deck. It was a continuous up and down, the boxes which were filling the deck jumping with the movement.

"Ack alter course alter course ack ack."

"Three degrees, south south-east!" Allen continued, standing at the bow and watched the maneuver of the trading ship.

"Aye!" Kio replied and turned the helm.

"South south-east ack."

"We'll cut off their way!" Allen yelled. "Grappling irons to port! We'll attack from port! And get rid of that damn parrot or I'll pluck it!"

Allen glared up at the blue and yellow parrot which sat in the rigging and it ruffled up its long feathers before flying away, put out. He still didn't know what had gotten into him when he had allowed Merle to keep this annoying bird! It wasn't of any use, just sitting in the rigging the whole day and commenting all and everyone. But the bird wasn't dumb and had smelled danger. Whenever Allen looked at the parrot for longer than two seconds, thinking of ways to compensate for his mistake, the bird just cried and alarmed Merle who was there to defend it immediately. So, no parrot stew for Allen.

Van stood at the port side of the ship, holding the wet railing tightly and watched the trading ship come quickly closer. They had no chance, their evasive action in vain. No ship on whole Gaea could compete with the Black Lady. She was the fastest ship plus the trading ship was being slowed down because of being filled with goods to the point of bursting. They had a lot more draught than Allen's ship and it would be easy to catch up quickly.

The wind tugged violently at his hair, letting it dangle before his auburn eyes and spray splashed into his face, the salt burning in his eyes and making his black eyelashes stick together. Angrily, he tried to get the wet, pitch-black strands out of his view but they fell into his face again by the moment he retracted his hand. The young man snorted and looking to his right, he spotted Reeden standing beside him. The red scarf on Reeden's head seemed to glow and with a quick movement, Van had pulled it off of his head.

"Hey!" Reeden complained, touching his head. "What's gotten into you? Give it back!"

"You don't need it at all," Van replied, taming his own unruly hair with the red scarf.

Reeden mumbled something under his breath before turning away and Van looked at the sea again, satisfied with his work on his hair. The huge ship worked its way unstoppably through the stirred water, the wind romping about in the sails. The sound of the waves and the clinking of pulleys hitting the masts filled the air, the seagulls which had accompanied them for a long time already gone. They would wait until everything was over and return, knowing there was no other place where they would get food so easy.

The time was passing by really fast and the Black Lady was catching up. They were already following in the trading ship's wake, the water splashing. Van could see the men on the other ship running and screaming. Of course, they were afraid, their ship wasn't armed. Actually, no trading ship was armed so that they could transport even more goods. It seemed the cannons weren't profitable enough. What carelessness. Everyone knew that the oceans were filled with pirates these days, sailing on the trading routes and robbing every ship which crossed their way – just like they did.

Allen cried the orders across the deck and Kio followed, guiding their ship beside the other one. Water splashed between the mighty wooden hulls while they were almost touching. With an amazing speed, the Black Lady rushed past the trading ship and reduced the distance until they were in level with each other.

"Get ready for the attack!" Allen yelled and ran along the port side of his ship, his men grabbing the grappling irons. "Grappling irons ready!"

A wave of excitement rushed through Van right then. He liked that part the most. Though it was always the same procedure - jumping on the other ship, overpowering some incompetent crew members and leaving with arms full of loot – he liked it. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and he tightened the grip around the railing, his heart beating strongly in his chest. Through the mass of tangled ropes which was swaying in the wind, he could see the crew members of the other ship, swords unsheathed.

"Attack!" the blond-haired captain's voice echoed into the summer sky and the storm broke forth.

Hooks and ropes flew through the air, the hoarse cries of Allen's men accompanying them. The iron fingers dug deep into the wood of the trading ship, preparing the way for the pirates. Van who had no grappling iron, climbed onto the railing and taking hold of a rope, he jumped on the deck of the other ship, the foaming water of the ocean visible under his feet for a brief moment. By the moment the young man hit the deck, he pulled his sword and blocked the first thrust, the noise of heavy boots crashing onto wooden boards surrounding him.

This noise was immediately replaced by the clashing of swords. Sparks flew everywhere on the deck, the crew trying desperately to defend their ship. Van leaned against the man who had thrust after him, a light smile on his lips. Taking a step to the side, he caught the man off-guard and without letting the man find his balance, Van rammed the hilt of his sword into the crook of the man's neck. With a grunt, he hit the ground, his sword sliding over the wet deck. The raven-haired youth looked around and spotted Allen enter the deck, before he had to raise his sword again to block another attack.

It was a red-haired young man who wasn't much older than Van. He was striking at Van with all his strength, his teeth gritted but Van just dodged the attacks. The black-haired youth allowed his opponent a few more thrusts before he decided to attack himself, tangling his sword with his opponent's one and sending him stumbling backwards. He was just about the raise his sword again and thrust at the surprised blue-eyed boy again when someone stopped him.

"Stop now!" Allen's voice drowned the noises which were filling the air.

The crew members of the trading ship froze, seeing their captain stand with his back pressed against the mast, his sword sticking unreachable in the wood and Allen's sword piercing into the skin at his throat. He wasn't breathing because if he did that, the sharp blade would slice his flesh.

"Now put your swords down or your captain will immediately become a head shorter," the blue-eyed man addressed the crew calmly.

They hesitated, and an eerie silence engulfed the two ships. Without batting an eyelid, Allen increased the pressure on his sword, a fine trail of blood streaming down the blade and the swords clinked to the ground. Van grinned wickedly at his opponent and the young man glared back, his blue eyes burning with hatred. Slowly, the pirates made the crew gather in a corner of the deck, Allen still pinning the captain to the mast.

"Merle said that our stocks were empty. That's why I think we should fill them up," he said. "Take everything you can find!"

Shouts of joy filled the air when the pirates separated in order to stroll across the ship, searching for something they could take with them. After sheathing his sword, Van headed for the hatch which would led him under the deck. He walked carefully down the wooden steps and entered a narrow hallway, doors hemming it irregularly and other hallways branching off. Some other men of Allen's crew were already there, peeping into the rooms behind the doors. Van decided also for one of the doors and opened it slowly. It creaked horribly, revealing a dim room. Only a few sunbeams illuminated it, creeping through the shade-covered windows and it smelled like wood. He entered the room, the boards creaking under him and he was just about to take a look around when white stars exploded before his eyes.

With a groan, Van fell to the ground and hit the wooden boards. An unbelievable pain emitted from the back of his head and over the sound of the blood rushing through his veins, he heard his own voice call him a bloody idiot. He had been too damn careless and now he had paid the price. Some member of the crew had knocked him to the ground and would stab him at any second if he didn't rise to his feet! Hah, as if he hadn't already tried! But it was just plain impossible to raise when the world was spinning before his eyes! His arms shook under his weight, hardly able to carry him.

A loud thud beside him, made Van slowly turn his head. He saw a man he didn't know, lying unconsciously beside him, a sparkling sword in his right hand. Carefully, Van lifted himself into a sitting position, still staring at the man on the ground, the sound of conversations from the hallway hovering in the air.

"What would you do without me?" a voice from behind suddenly asked.

"Ort!" Van uttered and turned around.

In the doorframe stood a tall man, the light from outside illuminating him from behind. He was wearing simple black pants and a brown vest which wasn't closed and revealed his muscular chest, a huge scar running across his bald head. Ort was grinning from ear to ear while was scratching his head with the blade of his dagger. Spotting the blade, Van turned hastily back to look at the man on the ground.

"You didn't, did you?" he asked slowly.

"No, of course not," Ort replied and shrugged. "If the boss says no useless shedding of blood, then I won't shed blood. The coward will only have a wonderful head-ache when he wakes up. But you should be more careful, Van, or you'll someday look like me or even worse!"

Van smiled and rose to his feet. "I'll be careful," he said and after looking him over once more, Ort turned around and left him.

Van sighed and rubbed the back of his head. That would turn into a lovely swelling, he just knew it. Now that the overzealous crew member was knocked out, he had time to inspect the room. It was a cabin with four bunks, two at the left and two at the right, notches and names carved into the worn wood. Clothes were scattered across the small beds and under the window was a simple chest of drawers. Here was nothing to get – apart from the glowing red apple.

With a few steps, Van had crossed the room and reached for the fruit. He took a mighty bite and chewed, closing his eyes in delight. It's been a while since he had last eaten an apple. It wasn't that they were starving but a life as a pirate didn't include much luxury. They weren't rich though a lot of people thought they were. But what they stole was just enough to survive properly until the next ship crossed their way. It was a hard life and a lot of people would like to see them all hang therefore.

Taking another bite, Van turned around and left the room, heading for the stocks. They needed not more than thirty minutes to empty the stocks of the trading ship almost completely and fill their own ones. The ship transported food of every kind, ranging from tons of wheat and potatoes over sheep and pigs to exotic fruits. They had also found expensive fabrics hidden in a box. They would sell them somewhere together with the food they didn't need.

The last pirates with boxes on their arms crossed the deck under the glares of the crew, Van standing at the deck of the Black Lady, helping to lift the boxes over the railing. Gaddes just left the cabin of the captain and walked over to Allen, struggling not to drop the chest which he was carrying.

"Look, what I found, captain!" he said proudly, a big grin on his face and opened the chest carefully.

A light smile tugged at Allen's lips when he saw the golden coins sparkle in the sunlight. "Was that everything?" he asked and Gaddes nodded, closing the chest.

"Yep," he replied and then walked to the railing, handing the chest to another pirate.

"Good," Allen stated and withdrew his sword from the surprised hostage's throat. "Well then, gentlemen, I'm afraid but I've got to leave. It was nice to meet you and thank you for all the gifts!" With a grin and taking off his non-existing hat, Allen turned around and walked away.

"You spare our lives?" the grey-haired captain called after him, rubbing his throat. "Why?"

Allen stopped and slowly turned back around, a questioning look on his face. "Why not?" he replied and shrugged, the wind tugging at his blond hair. "What good is it when I kill you? I can't sell your bodies and I can't sell your ship because they would notice that it is a missing ship and arrest me. Do you think I want that to happen?"

"But they tell of a rumoured black ship," the old man continued. "Nobody has ever seen it from up close, it just has always been a silhouette at the horizon. It is said that there are no seagulls following the ship and that the crew consists of demons. And whenever another ship crosses their way, they leave nothing but rubble, the blood of the victims turning the water red."

It was silent again, the only noise the one of the wind crawling over the sails, making the fabric rustle. Van watched Allen, an unreadable look in his auburn eyes, while he was holding a box in his hands.

"Hah, captain!" Gaddes suddenly said, leaning at the railing. "Seems as if we have got some imitators! Funny..." he trailed off, seeing the serious expression on Allen's face.

"We're leaving, Gaddes," Allen said flatly and then turned to the other captain again. "Now, you can tell that Allen Schezar doesn't kill the ones who feed him and his crew."

Nodding at the captain once more, he grabbed a rope which hung down from a spar and swung himself across the sea to his own ship.

"Remove grappling irons!" he ordered and the sound of metal clinking filled the air when his men began to pull the iron claws out of the wood of the trading ship. "We head back home."

AN: Ah yes, finally done And now, that my mind is tidied a bit, I can focus on the fourteenth chapter of a certain story!!! You heard me?! So yes, it wasn't the end yet!!!!!!! I just couldn't write on with having this idea on my mind and not having it written down!!!

Okay, I just hope you liked this one

Till next chap,