But despite my aching muscles, I manage to drag myself up, lock eyes with Miss Captain, and give her my best smile. She seems to like it when I smile. Maybe it’s because I’m such a foolish bard, and my whole existence is endlessly amusing to her. Or maybe I’m just unlike anyone she’s ever met. Either way, her eyes light up, and that’s enough for me.
“What for?” I ask, keeping my smile in place.
“I was thinking you could figure out some flag for us,” she says, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that, honestly, complements her nicely. “There’s still only three of us, but we might die any day now, so we should probably get that sorted. Wouldn’t want to leave behind a soulless ship.”
I ignore the casual mention of death. No thanks. That’s not a topic I plan to dwell on—now or ever.
A flag, though? That gets my attention.
“A flag?” I repeat, feeling my heart start to hum like a well-tuned instrument. “Me?”
She gives me one of those looks, the kind where her eyebrow arches just so, as if she knows exactly what effect her words have. “I figured you’d like the idea.”
“Say no more,” I reply, dramatically waving a hand.
Now, between us, I’m running dangerously low on blank pages in my songbook. Two years of island life have pretty much filled it to the brim. But for this? For Miss Captain’s crew—my crew—I’d sacrifice a page or two for something as important as a flag.
She said ‘us,’ didn’t she, Vini? You’re one of them now. You sail with pirates.
“I sail with pirates,” I murmur to myself, savoring the words like the finest wine.
Miss Captain’s eyes are already fixed on the horizon, but she hears me. Her eyebrow lifts just a fraction, and she glances back.
“Damn right you do,” she says, her lips curling in that way that makes my heart skip a beat.
And she looked at me, like a comrade true,
I think I heard, for the first time anew,
That the sea might call out to me too,
That there might be a place on this ship’s crew.
I pull out my songbook, scribbling the thought down before it slips away. My fingers flip through the pages until I find one still blessedly blank.
With care, I dip my quill into the ink, tools of my trade that feel as dear to me as the air I breathe. The first stroke is hesitant, but soon, the lines flow easily—capturing the essence of our ragtag little crew.
Miss Captain’s old lot called themselves The Serpents, their banner flying the image of a snake. She never liked the symbol much, but I’ve seen how it still tugs at her heart, no matter how much she pretends otherwise.
So I start sketching. Not just any snake, though—no, this one is shedding its skin. The scales fall away, transforming it into a sea dragon, bold and fierce, just like Gypsy herself. The creature coils around a shattered compass, its tail tugging it south while the needle stubbornly points north.
“A fight against destiny,” I murmur, lips twitching into a grin as the thought takes shape.
Miss Captain leans closer, her earlier composure faltering as a spark of delight lights up her eyes.
“That’s... perfect,” she whispers, trying to keep her stern facade, though I can see the joy slipping through. Her fingers brush the edge of the page. “How did you do it so fast? It’s like you… read my mind. But fuck, I didn’t even know I wanted this.”
Oh, my heart. It stretches wide and full, swelling with pride.
“Some people just have that special something,” I say, smiling wide. “They live their lives in a way that turns them into living art. You’re one of them, Miss Captain. Art can’t help but find its way to you.”
Her eyes lock onto mine.
“I’ll tell Zayan to paint it on the sails at our next stop,” she says, her voice softer than before. “It’s going to look magnificent up there.”
“Glad to be of service.” I flash her the kind of smile I usually reserve for tavern keepers when I’m angling for a free round of rum. But this time, I don’t want anything in return.
For the past day, we’ve been relentlessly sailing the Whisperwind Sea. The first hour, we kept scanning the horizon, bracing ourselves for another storm to swallow us whole. Even Zayan, barely able to stand, couldn’t stop looking. But nothing came.
