Kindling

Smoke billows through the air on all sides of the grand four deck war vessel from Triaan, Chancellor Gozo, as the heavy cannons engage pirate vessels on either side of her hull. Cracks of thunder accompany the plumes of flame erupting from the third deck above the water line. The pirate fluyt on Chancellor Gozo’s starboard side suffers a major impact when a cannonball comes whizzing through the smoke.

The wooden deck explodes in a hail of splinters and jagged pieces of metal. Nearby pirates, all former merchant seamen, cry out in various states of pain. A poor soul, stood above the detonation site, dies in an instant, his legs sheared off at the knee. A splinter drives itself through the eye of a deckhand carrying a cannonball. He crumples to the ground, howling in agony and clutching at his face.

The pirate captain watches the horror from the aft castle, doing his best to keep calm and continue giving directions. More explosions rock his once magnificent fluyt. The mizzen mast creaks and groans and begins to twist in the wind. A large crack curls its way around the wooden structure, snapping like a twig when a strong gust of wind strikes the sail.

As the mizzen mast falls, several taut lines of rigging snap. One slices the captain’s thigh without resistance and sends a spray of blood across the deck and down the steps. His leg buckles and he cries out with such anguish, it dismays his own crew.

There is no relenting from the Chancellor Gozo and it continues to unload shot after shot from its vast array of heavy cannons. The pirate galleon off the portside of Chancellor Gozo puts up a stronger fight than the fluyt, but the massive warship dominates the fight without much effort.

On the deck of the Chancellor Gozo, uniformed seamen, clad in the Persian orange and rose red colours of the Triaan Kraterocracy, race around tightening rigging and loading cannons above deck. Several run around with loaded muskets, handing them off to their fellow crewmembers. Smoke billows from below deck, making navigation a slight issue.

On Chancellor Gozo’s aft castle, on a raised platform, stands a stern and tall man with a broad hat with his arms folded behind his back. Several dozen pins line the arms of his greatcoat, each signifying a victory in combat. A ferocious, flaming wolf forms the insignia above his left breast. A braid of ginger hair runs down his back to his coccyx. His stern eyes sit unmoving, even as musket balls and cannonballs whizz past his position. A long scar runs from his right temple down his face, along his neck, and disappears into his uniform. The hairs of his moustache and beard, flecked with white strands, bristle in the breeze.

The only time the gaze of this man breaks from the prow of Chancellor Gozo, is when the galleon detonates in a plume of smoke and fire and splinters. The sounds of cannon fire dies down, only for agonised screams to take their place. These cries go unheard and unheeded as Chancellor Gozo continues its forward trajectory.

A One-Eyed Man with deep wrinkles across his face ascends the stairs two at a time. He stops behind the stern, tall man and gives a salute. The One-Eyed Man’s left hand touches his right shoulder, and his right arm shoots out sideways, hinging at the elbow so his palm faces the stern, tall man.

‘Orders, Admiral?’ the One-Eyed Man says.

The stern, tall man takes in a breath so deep, his ginger braid slides up his back as his muscular shoulders pull his greatcoat tight. Several dark tattoos peer out from under his uniform, contrasting the stern, tall man’s pale skin. He speaks in a gruff, gravelled voice.

‘Kill the survivors. Then we make for port. Go,’ he says.

The One-Eyed Man clicks his heels together and turns with a flourish and a nod. His feet echo on the wood of Chancellor Gozo’s deck as he marches back to the stairs. The One-Eyed Man stops when he hears the stern, tall man clear his throat.

‘Admiral?’ the One-Eyed Man says.

‘Bring me their captain, Executor,’ the Admiral says.

The One-Eyed Man says nothing else and descends the stairs, a lingering cloud of smoke hanging in the air. The battle is the fifth in as many days for the crew of Chancellor Gozo. The warship shows little sign of damage, due to the iron plating reinforcing the hull and the well-disciplined crew. The One-Eyed Man does see some repairs as he weaves through deckhands rushing around with wet cloths and bottles of high-proof alcohol to dress wounds. The One-Eyed Man does not need to wonder what the Admiral believes as the mission of Chancellor Gozo is clear as day. Eradication.

For the One-Eyed Man, it is a privilege to serve as Executor for the Triaan Kraterocracy, and he carries himself with a distinction befitting a man of his station. He carried himself the same when he served the now-deceased Admiral Az-al Denghu. In fact, the One-Eyed Man broke down in tears when news broke of the death of his great friend and ally. Moreso, the One-Eyed Man mourned the loss of his brother.

Thus, when the Triaan Kraterocracy approached the One-Eyed Man – then known as Captain Kar al-Denghu – he could not refuse such an honour. But such a place of honour came with a heavy price. The One-Eyed Man presses a gentle, calloused finger against the swollen and tender skin around his eye socket. A drop of pus oozes from the wound under the dark bandage.

The One-Eyed Man remembers how casual the Admiral referred to the process as ‘a small price to pay.’ The pain was not the worst part, for the One-Eyed Man believes in the cause. The worst part for the One-Eyed Man was having to perform the enucleation with his own hand as the leaders of the Triaan Kraterocracy watched.

Everyone on Chancellor Gozo made a similar deal. Every deckhand and gunner and cook and the navigator all gave a part of themselves to secure their station. And when the crewmember gave what the Admiral asked of them, the Admiral baptised each crewmember with their new names, under the proviso the name they have on land is one they never speak aboard the Chancellor Gozo. The only names spoken are the titles each crewman possesses. A gift from the Admiral.

The One-Eyed Man wishes he could know more about the Admiral, but all he knows is the Admiral appeared one day as if out of a vision. True to the Triaan Kraterocracy, the Admiral connived and fought his way to the top of the social ladder in record time. This and the knowledge Chancellor Gozo is the brainchild of the Admiral is all the One-Eyed Man knows of his commanding officer.

Silent Suleiyman, Master of Boarding, stands at attention as the One-Eyed man approaches. A mask covers the lower half of Silent Suleiyman’s face, though the One-Eyed Man does not know why.

‘The Admiral wants their captain. Slaughter the others,’ the One-Eyed Man says.

Silent Suleiyman cants his head and gives an intricate hand signal to other nearby seamen. The One-Eyed Man takes a deep breath, looking first to the flaming debris of the pirate galleon. The ten-and-fifty weight cannons ripped through the vessel as though it were paper. No doubt the powder store took a direct hit from one of those massive weapons.

The fluyt on the starboard side fares little better. It lists to port and the waves lap at the sails, bringing more water into the hold with each rise and fall. The One-Eyed Man possess no sympathy for the pain the Chancellor Gozo brings upon the pirates.

The One-Eyed Man leans on the rail and raises his eyebrow when he sees the damage caused by an errant cannonball. Splinters sit scattered across the deck amongst gnarled pulleys and stressed lengths of rope. The One-Eyed Man turns his gaze to the sail behind him and sees a few tears he assumes are the result of the errant cannonball.

‘Brave souls. I hope whatever god you worship finds mercy for you,’ the One-Eyed Man says.

There is one soul the One-Eyed Man does not dare offer a prayer for. The pirate captain. The One-Eyed Man knows what is in store for this abominable human being at the hands of the Admiral. Fourteen times has the One-Eyed Man seen the power of the Admiral come to the surface and consume an unwitting pawn in whatever sadistic game the Admiral plays.

There will never be satisfaction for the Admiral until he defeats the man many perceive as the scourge of the seas – The Salt Sage. The One-Eyed Man knows the tales and the myths surrounding the elusive pirate lord hailing from The Green Desert. The One-Eyed Man hears the stories of how the Athenaeum protects The Salt Sage and even masks his movements.

Picking up a three-pronged splinter, the One-Eyed Man looks back along the deck of Chancellor Gozo and up to the platform where the Admiral watches over his kingdom. The One-Eyed Man holds the splinter up to his eye, so the longest prong lines up with the Admiral. He takes in a deep breath and sees the silhouette of a demon.

‘Executor,’ says Mischief.

The One-Eyed Man lowers his arm, his eye and head tracking the splinter down until his hand rests by his side. He turns his body until he sees Mischief’s feet. With a calm and calculated inhale, the One-Eyed Man raises his neck up Mischief’s legs, slender and strong even when hidden behind featureless breeches. Mischief’s hips bulge out, promoting her feminine form. Mischief wears the same uniform as the One-Eyed Man, but the mark given to her by the Admiral climbs up her neck. Her scar, caused by setting the left side of her face alight, is grotesque and twisted, but Mischief does not shy away and stands tall and proud.

‘Speak, Seeker,’ the One-Eyed Man says.

Mischief raises her right arm, holding out a spyglass for the One-Eyed Man. She looks over her left shoulder, the glorious golden hair on the right side of her head blowing in the breeze. Mischief nods to a distant speck on the horizon.

‘We have incoming, Executor,’ she says.

The One-Eyed Man snatches the spyglass from Mischief’s hand. She does not flinch, but she turns to face the same direction the One-Eyed Man does as he walks to the prow of Chancellor Gozo.

Peering through the spyglass, the One-Eyed Man surveys the distant vessel. He sees two masts, each with three sails. The deck sits low to the water, and it flies three distinct flags. One is the rose red and Persian orange of Triaan, a second is the verdant green, gold, and blood red of The Green Desert, and the third flag flies the white star against the pale blue sky, signifying Kulvaan.

‘Merchant. The smoke clouds gained their attention. They’ll appreciate an escort to port. Stow the guns!’ the One-Eyed Man yells.

Within seconds, each of Chancellor Gozo’s decks is awash with activity. The sound of cannons rolling on wood fills the air and the One-Eyed Man turns to Mischief. He thrusts the spyglass back into her hand. The pair lock eyes for several seconds, neither blinking nor breathing.

‘Executor,’ Mischief says.

The One-Eyed Man turns and marches back toward the aft of Chancellor Gozo. Despite the small length of time, Silent Suleiyman and members of the boarding crew hoist their longboat to the deck. The captain of the pirate fluyt lies in the boat, wrists and ankles tied with ropes so tight, his extremities are a deep red.

The One-Eyed Man snaps his fingers as he walks past. A hunchbacked man, far larger than his comrades, hoists the pirate captain over his shoulder and trudges after the One-Eyed Man. The pair stomp up the stairs until the Admiral clears his throat and the One-Eyed Man stops and salutes as before.

‘Admiral,’ the One-Eyed Man says.

A shockwave and a deep rumbling sound shakes the Chancellor Gozo as the Admiral unlaces his fingers from behind his back. Bones creak and crack and muscles ripple under his greatcoat. A rolling and echoing breath escapes the Admiral’s lips. His gruff, gravelled voice flows forth, a dark undertone accompanying what he says.

‘Pirates are scum. They pilfer and plunder honest men. They rape babes still clinging to their mothers. Pirates kidnap men and women alike, sacrificing them to heathen gods. The seas are in dire need of a cure. A remedy to remove filth. The gods spoke to me long years ago, this you know. Each of us in this world comes assigned with a task. A goal to achieve in life, by hook or by crook. You all know what my goal is. Eradication,’ the Admiral says and his head snaps to the frightened pirate captain.

Without instruction, the hunchbacked man deposits the pirate captain next to where the Admiral stands with a sickening thud. The eyes of the Admiral, alternating between green and blue, never leave the pirate captain’s face. The platform under the Admiral creaks as he turns himself with a practiced slowness.

The One-Eyed Man watches with reverence as the Admiral unclasps the buttons of his greatcoat. A litany of tattoos comes into view, with the most prominent being a torso-length depiction of a Valkyrie on the Admiral’s right side. Several smaller images sit scattered around the muscled frame of the Admiral.

Of interesting note is how the Admiral’s greatcoat never hits the ground. It stays floating in the air, at shoulder height even after the Admiral slides it away from his broad frame. The pirate captain stares with doe eyes, struggling in vain against his bonds.

‘What the fuck are you?’ the pirate captain blurts out.

The Admiral raises his right hand, his grip as though he were holding a goblet. As he does, the pirate captain feels his body raise up, a mystical force tugging against his neck. The Admiral brings the pirate captain to eye level and gives only a wry smirk, the right corner of his mouth raising a fraction.

‘A wizard. A demon. A monster. Evil. A God. The Devil. Pathetic titles, all of them. Some call me a herald. A harbinger. Envoy. Messenger. I have seen the other side and lived in the Ethereal realm. Do you see this scar?’ the Admiral says, pointing to the long scar running from temple, wrapping around his neck, and zig zagging down his body. ‘This is the penance I received many moons ago from your people. The Salt Sage spared my life, but he made an enemy. I taught myself how to wield the very power of the Gods. Shall I demonstrate?’

The Admiral’s eyes shimmer and the dancing of flames comes to the forefront of his irises. A sinister smile crosses the Admiral’s mouth, and he leans in close to the squirming pirate captain. A wave of heat floods the body of the pirate captain and sweat drips down his forehead. An unbidden yelp escapes his lips and the Admiral laughs.

‘Stop!’ the pirate captain yells.

There is no reprieve as a burning sensation builds deep in his chest. The Admiral raises his hand higher and angles it toward his body, and this pulls the pirate captain to eye level with the Admiral. The feel of a raging fire encompasses the pirate captain who fights against his bonds to no avail. A low growl emanates from the Admiral’s throat.

‘Your essence is mine. You will kindle the flame. Look into my eyes and tell me what you see,’ the Admiral hisses.

As if by magic, the pirate captain snaps his gaze to the Admiral. Beyond fiery eyes and pained souls and intense screams sits a bright light and a brilliant, verdant, rolling plain filled with thousands of joyous peoples. A smile crosses the pirate captains face, and the pain erodes from his body.

‘Paradise,’ the pirate captain says.

The Admiral draws in a deep breath through his nostrils and draws out the soul of the pirate captain, little more than a cloud of smoke, inhaling it with great pleasure. The satisfied look of the pirate captain turns into one of immeasurable pain as a glorious flame of bright white ignites his body, starting from his toes. The crew of the Chancellor Gozo do not look away, the awe in their eyes keeping them transfixed on the sacrifice proffered to the Admiral.

The ashes of the pirate captain scatter into the wind when the flame finishes consuming his flesh and his bones. The Admiral exhales with a contented sigh. He closes his eyes with a shudder. When he opens his eyes again, they are back to their normal blue-green colouration. The Admiral snaps his gaze to the One-Eyed Man.

‘We have incoming, Admiral,’ the One-Eyed Man says.

The Admiral turns back to face down the length of Chancellor Gozo. His eyes return to a stoic and stern stare. There are no longer any flecks of white in his beard and his long ginger braid seems to gain a fraction more length.

‘To battle stations,’ the Admiral says.

‘Admiral, they are but merchants,’ the One-Eyed Man says in a pleading voice.

The Admiral’s right eye twitches. ‘A small price to pay.’