A/N: Alrighty, after quiiiite some time (::cough::understatement::cough::) I'm back with this one and I only have one major announcement for you. Due to the fact that time does take its toll on some people and as much as I'd loved being 18, I, unfortunately have aged within the last four years :P And because I can relate a whole lot better to people my age, I decided to change the age of the characters (that I do not own) in this story. I know, I hate it when people do that and I'm sorry but I feel a lot more comfortable that way. So yes, they've all been upgraded some 4 years, making Van and Hitomi roughly 23 years old. I changed that in the earlier chapters already, adding some experience with women for Van and a smoking hot tween body for Merle. She's going to be some competition ::grins::

Previously on "Beyond the Horizon": In order to get Dryden to cooperate Allen came up with a genius plan (or so he thinks) that now has Millerna and Hitomi annoying the bejeesus out of him. He is convinced it will be worth it in the end. Allen calls one piece of a map his own that is supposed to reveal the way to a rumoured treasure. Dryden has the second piece and they had to find out that there is a third piece out there. Allen has an inkling of who could be in possession of the third piece, Anne Flint knows where to find him. Meanwhile, Hitomi and Van decide to call a truce to avoid further blood shedding. He is going to improve her swordsmanship and she is going to help him remember...


Chapter 7 – Lost and Found


His words echoed within the cave when he spoke. "Dilandau?"

Dilandau scratched his cheek and watched his superior standing in the shallow part of the little bay that was trapped by the cave like water in the palm of a hand. Stones crunched under his boots when he took one step ahead. "The captain wishes to speak with you, Folken."

Folken turned and water splashed around his legs. He could feel the cold seep through the leather of his boots. "Did he say what about?"

"No, and I'm not his goddamn messenger." Dilandau ran a pale hand angrily through his hair and glared at Folken. His eyes glowed crimson in the dim light. "What are you doing there anyway?"

"I guess I'm waiting." Folken turned to look out at the calm bay again. The water was almost black like a liquid night sky except for the reflections of the torchlight that were dancing on the waves like will-o'-the-wisps.

He could feel anticipation stir in the pit of his stomach. Anticipation and something else, something he couldn't grasp, something that wasn't tangible. It was as if the air was vibrating and every fiber in his body was responding. It was an old feeling, a familiar feeling but nothing he could put into words. It was something he had almost forgotten, something that had been buried deep inside him and was now slowly awaking, stretching its limbs painfully because they hadn't been used in such a long time.

"Whatever." Dilandau shook his head and the echo of his footsteps followed him when he left.

Folken stepped out of the water and slowly followed down the path Dilandau had taken. The air in the cave was old and cold and smelled of wet stone but he preferred it to the hot and sticky air outside. It was always the same outside. Always hot. Always water. Always a ship they pillaged. Always people that died. It bored him.

They had left the ship anchored in front of the entrance and had entered the cave for reasons unknown to Folken. They had been at the hiding place just a few days ago and there was no need to refill the stocks. They had enough for another week or more. But nobody dared asking, nobody dared questioning what they were doing, nobody cared. Maybe the captain would finally tell him.

The voices of the other crew members reverberated from the walls, an echo of wine and laughter. They were strewn throughout the cave, in between the things they had stolen. Coins clinked faintly. Every once in a while he heard the tinkle of jewellery.

The noises faded the deeper he walked into the cave. A few dying candles were illuminating the room when he entered. Their nervous light cast fickle shadows across the stony walls and the old man who sat hunched behind a battered table.

"You can feel it, don't you, Folken?" His voice was rough with age. It showed all over his body in the deep wrinkles that covered the skin under his eyes and around his mouth and all the way down his skinny arms.

Folken looked at his captain with an unreadable expression on his face. "Things are changing."

The captain looked up and his purple eyes were clear and glowing, creating a strong contrast to his physical vulnerability. "They are. Why do you think did we come here? I know you've been wondering about it."

Folken held the stare although he knew that the old man was looking right into him, reading his thoughts, reading his soul. Folken knew that feeling of being probed, being tested. He didn't care. He had nothing to hide. "I think you have your reasons."

"I do." Wrinkled lips stretched in a smile. "We've been in pursuit of the missing parts of the map and now I know it was unnecessary. The missing parts will come find us."

Somewhere water dripped from the walls and sent an irritating echo into the room. "Why now?"

"Because they have started searching as well." The captain leaned back in his chair and his beard flowed around him like a white waterfall. "All these years they have been sleeping in their owners pocket and I have been searching the seas for them without success. Now that they are awaking the search has come to an end. They will find each other."

Folken narrowed his eyes. With the years he had learned not to question his captain. "Why now?"

He folded his slim fingers over his beard. "Because everything is coming together now. The dice is cast, Fate steps back and watches her work."

Fate. The captain was always talking about Fate. He was obsessed with Fate and Folken was following in his very footsteps. There was something about the captain, about his voice and the way his eyes sparkled, there was a conviction and absolute certainty that Folken couldn't evade. He believed his captain and he would follow him beyond the horizon.

"Folken, we are so close."

"I know." Folken nodded swiftly and walked out of the room. There was nothing else that needed to be said. The captain knew everything that had not been said.

He found Dilandau slouched against the wall in the hallway. He had taken a torch from the wall and was dragging his fingers through the flame that was licking his skin greedily. Its hot tongue left a trail of soot smeared across his fingertips.

"What'd the captain say?" he asked and watched Folken approach, the light of the fire reflected in his eyes.

"We're waiting." Folken passed his crew member by without looking up. He could feel Dilandau's eyes burning into the back of his head.

"I'm sick and tired of waiting. It's been more than a week since we pillaged the last ship. The crew is getting nervous when just sitting around." Anger and impatience were laced with his words and he wasn't even trying to hide it. He wanted Folken to know. A lethal combination, especially when concerning Dilandau.

Folken stopped and looked at Dilandau over his shoulder. He was impatient himself. It was time for things to change. They had been waiting too long. They deserved what they were searching for. He deserved it. "You are getting nervous when just sitting around, Dilandau. Learn to contain your temper."

Dilandau's brows knitted and cast shadows across his ruby eyes. "But it's stupid to just sit and wait. We're not achieving anything. The other parts of the map are not going to come flying to us."

A smile touched the corner of Folken's lip and he turned back around. "The captain thinks otherwise."

Dilandau bit his lip and Folken's smile stretched wider into the shadows under his eyes. Dilandau would not dare to contradict the captain. He knew better than that. And Folken knew, too.

"We're waiting and that's an order."


It was hot and it was boring. Hitomi usually wasn't the one to whine about things she couldn't change but it was really hot and really boring. The sun was mercilessly beating down on her and made her skin burn.

They had been following Allen's course for the last two days and thus far it had been rather uneventful. Adding to that there wasn't a lot to do on the ship and Millerna was sulking in her cabin, no longer a source of entertainment. Dryden's little revelation had hit her hard.

Hitomi had hoped Van would show up for that sparring session he had proposed. It had been three days since their encounter in the storage room and he had mastered the art of avoiding her. Obviously, he wasn't as interested in what she had to say and there was no way in hell that she would be seen crawling on her knees, begging him to show her a few tricks with the sword. She rather watched the ocean all day long.

The faint fragrance of lilac mixed with the salty air and in its fragility it seemed slightly out of place against the harsh, rough scent of the sea. The rustle of clothes announced Millerna's arrival and Hitomi had to smile when the princess unceremoniously slouched against the railing beside her.

"Men suck. Especially Dryden."

Hitomi chuckled and glanced at Millerna. Her blonde mane was spread out across her back and a few stray curls swayed slightly in the breeze. "Tell me about it."

Millerna sighed and looked up at her, not able to hide the pained look in her eyes. "I cannot believe he didn't tell me. Forgot to mention this minuscule detail of his past."

Her voice was laced with hurt and Hitomi winced. "Millerna, he probably just wanted to –-"

"Don't you dare protect him!" the princess interrupted her angrily but quickly caught herself when she saw the shocked expression on her friend's face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to blow up in your face."

Sweat tickled down Hitomi's temples and between her breasts although she wasn't even moving. The air was hot when she inhaled and it seemed to stick to her skin like her wet shirt to her back. "It's okay, I guess. It really bothers you, doesn't it?"

Millerna turned to look out at the sea. "Yeah, it does. It's like he doesn't trust me enough and it hurts because I'm willing to give up my country for him."

Seagulls cried into their silence and they could hear the laughter of Allen's crew echo across the deck. Hitomi didn't reply. She didn't know what to say, not able to imagine what a burden Millerna carried on her slender shoulders, what a decision she would eventually have to make and how the consequences would haunt her entire life.

"So, what's your story?"

Hitomi blinked. "Huh?"

Millerna waved a hand in exasperation and some of her haughty air seemed to resurface. "When I said that men sucked you agreed. What's the story behind that?"

"Oh, that." She growled low in her throat and wiped her forehead. "That idiot, Van, found me in the storage room when I was practicing with a sword. He criticized my technique and said we could have a sparring session in exchange of some information about a guy he and I probably both know."

Millerna raised her brows and Hitomi rolled her eyes. "It's been three days, he hasn't shown up yet and I'm sick of waiting for him but too proud to go ask if he'd deem himself to go spar with me."

"You're right on the horns of a dilemma, aren't you?" Millerna put a finger to her cheek, her eyes sparkling. "Tragic, yet very entertaining."

Hitomi shoved her. "Shut up."

Millerna groaned and turned around, leaning with her back against the railing and resting her arms on top of it. She surveyed the deck and the lazy pirates that were clustered across it. "Well, there is a way to find out what...you know..."

She trailed off and her eyes spoke all the words she did not voice. A feeling of dread wrapped around Hitomi's heart like a cold hand and squeezed it. She reached for the pendent around her neck and shook her head determinedly. "No, Millerna. You know I'm not doing it anymore."

"But the cards could tell us what's best to do and if those idiots are going to come crawling to us any time soon." Her voice was pleading. "Just one reading."

"No, I promised not to do it again. I promised it, Millerna." Hitomi looked down at the floor boards but all she saw was the face of her father, his eyes pleading her.

The princess sighed. "We have to take the painful way then. The only other possibility I see to solve this rather stupid situation of ours is that we have to be the mature ones this time and take the first step."

"Guess so." Hitomi grinned and caught Millerna's eyes.

"Let's go find our men!" she exclaimed a little too excited and pushed herself off of the railing.

Hitomi watched her stalk across the deck with a slight shake of the head. But she had to admit that Millerna was right. Hitomi Kanzaki, daughter to the governor of Joya Verde had always prided herself on not being the spoilt brat everyone thought her to be, had prided herself on not being complicated in a very female kind of way. Time to prove it.

With a sigh, she crossed the deck and when she couldn't find him playing cards with the rest of the crew there, she went to the staircase that led underneath the deck. Sunlight filtered through slits in the boards and she saw dust dancing on the slim rays. She could hear the ship breathe, the wood creaking softly with every breath it took.

She checked the kitchen for she knew that Merle spent a lot of time there and that Van spent a lot of time hanging around Merle. The kitchen was empty save for the annoying parrot that ruffled its feathers and uttered a few croaking sounds upon her entering, not thinking her worthy of words.

Rolling her eyes, Hitomi headed further down the hall and turned when she heard Merle's clear laughter. She followed the sound and stopped in front of a cabin, listening to the voices that drifted through the wood. One was distinctly Merle's and the other was low and husky and distinctly male.

She knocked. Hushed voices. Another knock. More laughter. Knitted brows. Anger.

"Alright, come in."

She wasn't able too completely wipe the anger off her face when she opened the door and took one step into the room. It was dimly lit by the daylight coming through one tiny window and by the orange light of a lamp that dangled from the ceiling, lurching softly from side to side with the movements of the ship.

Merle stood in the middle of the room, wearing a dress she had obviously ripped so that it only reached to barely touch her knees and looking absolutely breath-taking. Her tan legs were going on forever and in the stained mirror behind her Hitomi could see that strings were interlacing at the back, exposing her shoulder blades and a good portion of her back.

Even when standing there with one hand on her hip Merle radiated an intimidating air of feline grace and Hitomi felt jealousy surging through her body.

She knew she had been staring and Merle knew it was jealousy in her eyes with which Hitomi regarded her, if the haughty tug at the corners of her lips was any indication. With a slight blush of humiliation across the bridge of her nose Hitomi turned to face Van who lay sprawled in a hammock, arms linked behind his head and his eyebrows raised in slight surprise.

"Yes?" he drawled lazily and Hitomi intensified her glare.

"I was wondering if you were still up for that offer." She wasn't going to explain herself and simply expected him to know what she was talking about. She had come to seek him out but she would do it standing up straight. She was not going to beg on her knees.

She stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, purposely ignoring Merle's eyes that were burning holes into her clothes.

Van's eyes widened briefly and there was the shadow of a grin lurking around the corners of his lips. It just barely flickered, the look Hitomi was giving him daring him to speak the words. He bit his lip. "Now?"

"I'm free and I'm bored. Now."

"I guess then it's now." He swiftly hopped out of the hammock and directed a disarming smile at Merle. "Sorry Merle, I'll drop by later so you can show me the other dresses."

Hitomi felt the familiar warmth of satisfaction pool in her stomach when she noticed the mixture of confusion and disappointment on Merle's face. Her eyes fell on the pile of clothes behind the cat-woman and she sneered. "Weren't you supposed to sell those?"

Merle's eyes narrowed and her tail twitched like a whip. "No, they're mine. I earned them. You know, some of us actually have to work for the clothes they wear."

Merle's words stung and Hitomi felt low. She averted her eyes and expected Merle to lash out again but Van stepped between them, holding Merle by the shoulders. He spoke to her quietly and she replied just as quietly but with a lot more vehemence, her tail twitched from side to side. The air was tense and awkward and Hitomi started when Van suddenly burst out laughing. The sound was deep and full, yet gentle. And genuine.

He turned away from Merle, still laughing, and Hitomi caught a glimpse of the laughter that had spread across his features, leaving his eyes dancing in its wake.

"Alright, see you later, Merle."

They left the room and when he closed the door behind them, all traces of that smile were gone from his features. "Merle is very protective of her belongings."

Hitomi looked away and tried to hide the shame in her voice. She was embarrassed. "I noticed."

Van wasn't aware of her troubled state of mind or pretended not to notice. Either way she was glad. "I think we should go to the storage room again. There is a too big audience up there on deck."

Hitomi didn't reply, knowing that whatever she would have to say would not matter at all. They were silent on the way further under deck and Hitomi quickly slipped in her room to retrieve the sword she had borrowed from Allen. Van merely raised a brow and she shrugged. What did he care?

The storage room was quiet and dusty and she walked until she reached the place where a lone sunbeam hit the floor boards. She stopped and turned, the sword resting at her side.

Van remained in the shadows and watched her like a lion ready to pounce on his prey. His outlines blended with the background. "So, what's it gonna be? Spar first or questions first?"

"Spar first." She bit her lip for letting the words slip out too eagerly.

With a faint nod Van slowly unsheathed his sword and the blade sparkled in the twilight. "Okay. Lesson one: Never just carry a sword. Hold it as if you have to use it at any time. Be aware of it."

She willed her heartbeat to slow down. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword and her brows knitted. That arrogant prick. She clutched the sword with both hands in front of her and watched when he bent his knees, bent his elbows and held up the sword so that the hilt was level with his head.

The air in the room was thick with warmth and anticipation. "Ready?"

Instead of answering she chose to attack. There was the high faint whistle when her sword cut through the air and sparks exploded where metal collided with metal. Immediately, she withdrew and swung the blade in a graceful arch above her head. Van nimbly shifted his weight on his other foot and parried her attack.

The noise of their swords colliding filled the room and Van parried every one of her attacks. When she hesitated for a moment to decide what to do, he lunged at her so suddenly Hitomi couldn't help but gasp and close her eyes when she raised her sword. The blades clashed together and she took a step backwards with the force. Van struck out again, quickly, and she couldn't do anything but parry and dodge. He was chasing her across the room and she blocked his attacks with an agility that was beyond reflexes. It was as if she knew his next move.

Van withdrew and Hitomi's shoulders slumped, the tip of the sword touching the floor. Her chest was rising quickly with every breath she took and she felt her damp clothes sticking tightly to her skin.

"Not bad." Van wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He wanted to say something else, she could see it in his eyes. When he spoke she knew it was not what he had meant to say. "Be careful with your feet. Stance is important for balance and agility."

Hitomi's eyes darkened and she swallowed a spiteful remark. She had asked him to teach her and now she had to deal with someone her age criticizing her technique. She managed a curt nod.

"You're very fast when it comes to defence but your offence is lacking power." He circled her and his eyes danced through the shadows like little flames. "You're not aggressive enough. You have to mean it. Try again."

Van slightly tipped his sword, indicating that he was ready for her to attack. She took a deep breath and concentrated on the position of her feet and her posture, trying not to give away her next move. She had noticed how his eyes stayed on her shoulders and watched her intently, trying to detect what she would do.

She thrust at him and the impact was harder than before, making her arms vibrate with pain. Gritting her teeth, she lunged at him again and her anger was only fuelled when he swiftly blocked it. She came to a sudden halt when the edge of his blade pointed at her exposed neck. She felt the cool metal barely graze her skin.

"You don't mean it," Van said close to her face and retracted his sword. "This is not a game, mylady. It's you or your opponent."

Summoning all the strength she possessed, she thrust forward again and hit metal. Blood roared in her ears and almost drowned the sound of her heavy breathing hard. Her arms shook with pain when she pressed against his sword. His eyes were dark behind sweaty strands of hair and she could have sworn they crinkled at the corners.

"Mean it!" he yelled and shoved her away. Hitomi stumbled and was hardly able to regain her balance. Staggering slightly and panting heavily, she bent over to catch her breath.

"Right now, I really mean to hurt you!" she yelled with the little air she had left in her lungs. Sweat mixed with dirt on her skin and burned in her eyes.

He took position again. Hitomi was sure that there was anger in his voice when he spoke although he had no reason to be angry. "Good!"

"Goddamnit!" She lifted her sword and knew she had lost. She could barely feel her arms and his counterattack would be too much for her to take.

Sparks flew again and her blade slid along his sword when he dipped it. The force of his thrust sent her stumbling to the ground and all the air left her lungs. She didn't bother standing up, her breathing quick and her heartbeat frantic.

She felt him hovering over her and heard him breathe. At least he seemed slightly exhausted. "I'd say it's enough for one lesson."

"I hate you," Hitomi told the dirty floor boards and brushed wet strands of hair out of her forehead.

"You're welcome." He sat down on a box quite a distance away from her and waved a dismissive hand at her when she looked up to glare at him in return. "Your turn now."

She let out a long breath and let herself fall back against the wooden floor. Dust curled into the air around her and she stretched her legs, her pants scraping over the ground. She waited until her breathing had slowed again.

"Vargas arrived in the port of Joya Verde five years ago and stayed with us for more than half a year. I don't know where he came from or even the name of the ship that brought him. He just appeared that one day for dinner." Hitomi stretched out her arms at her sides and stared at the ceiling. "My father introduced him to me, told me he would be our guest for a little while. My father is very hospitable. We've had the strangest people stay at our house."

The wood creaked in the silence. "What did he...what did Vargas do?"

Hitomi furrowed her brows and tried to recall the image of Vargas. "I think he was resting. He seemed so very tired that first evening I saw him, and sad. He said he was searching for someone, had been searching for a long time. During his stay he taught me a few things about swordsmanship. He was an extraordinary swordsman."

This time there was less hesitation before he spoke quietly. "What's he look like?"

"Tall, very tall. Broad. Intimidating. He had a bunch of scars, a big one directly across his left eye." Hitomi turned her head slightly to look at Van and found him staring at the floor. His hands rested on the hilt of his sword in front of him. "Do you remember him?"

Wood creaked. Then, a slight shake of the head.

This time she was the one hesitating, not knowing how far she could go with questioning him. "Do you remember anything at all?"

His burgundy eyes flickered up to look at her and the distrust was plainly visible, not knowing how much he could tell her without saying too much. Then, a slight shrug of the shoulders. "Some things. Voices and emotions, no faces though."

Hitomi averted her eyes and returned to look up at the ceiling. "That song you played on the flute the other night. I said I didn't know it. Now I remember that indeed I do know it. Vargas had been whistling that very same melody a few times, or hummed it when he thought he was alone. And..."

She trailed off and rose from the floor with one swift motion. Her shoes clicked over the boards when she approached Van and his eyes widened when she reached for his sword. The action startled him so much that he lost his balance and toppled off the box.

There was a scratching noise when Hitomi drew Van's sword out of the blue sheath only so much that the crest showed. With his back pressed against the box he stared at her when she held it in front of his face. She was so close that he could see the dust that was caught between her lashes.

"He was wearing this one on his armor," she said and pointed at the red and yellow crest.

She held it so close that he could see the dragon curling in the center of the golden rhomb. His eyes flickered from the dragon up to her green eyes. "Do you know what it means? Did he mention anything?"

He wasn't able to rein the excitement in his voice and she almost felt sorry for him because she couldn't give him what he needed to hear. "No. It looks like a crest of some sort but I've never seen it before. Though, I have to admit, history isn't exactly a strength of mine."

And then she smiled. By seeing the vulnerability that he wasn't able to hide, that was so clearly displayed in eyes, she knew she could pay him back. Right here. Right now.

"Don't just carry your sword. Be aware of it." And with that she shoved the sword at him and rose. She walked out of the storage room, leaving him backed against the box and breathing fast.


His dreams had changed, had intensified. It was nothing real, simply perception based on memory. Fields and sunshine. Yellow everywhere around him. Beneath his feet. Above in the sky. Ripe ears pricking his palms. The dry scent of summer filling his nostrils. The dusty taste of wheat on his lips. He could almost feel the warmth.

The air vibrated with heat and the wind rippled endless fields like the sea. A tall figure stood within the golden ocean, his silhouette like a black papercut. Vargas.

Van had known what he looked like before Hitomi described him when they were in the storage room. Van had seen him in his dreams before, had seen the crest on his armor. He had just needed to know for sure.

The noise of heavy footsteps suddenly close behind him. He turned, the wind caught in his hair. Nothing.

Voices coming from nowhere. Voices inside his head.

He was distracted. A soft, warm touch. Merle clung to his arm and looked up at him. "Van..."

He opened his mouth but no words came out. He choked on words unspoken.

"Van!"

He jolted awake with a muffled scream and fell out of the hammock he had been dozing in. A sharp pain shot from his elbow to his shoulder. The floor was harder than usual beneath him and he groaned.

"Van, you okay?" Merle kneeled down beside him and when he looked up at her through the fog in his head he found a grin that betrayed the worry in her voice.

"I'm okay." He sat up and rubbed his arm. The fields and Vargas were gone and it took him a moment to realize that the noise of footsteps and muffled voices remained. His head snapped up. "What's going on?"

Merle sat down and waved a hand. "They spotted a trading ship and Allen ordered pursuit. We don't need anything but he wants to pillage anyway because he cannot say when we'll have our next opportunity."

Van scrambled to his feet and dashed to the door with a grin on his face. He stopped and turned in the doorframe. "You're staying here."

It wasn't a question but a statement and Merle crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her glare was made of ice. "Aye aye."

Everybody was on his feet. Van met a few crew members when he was running down the narrow hallway under deck. His boots left a loud noise in their wake and he could feel the boards bend slightly under his weight. Commands were yelled across the deck when he finally reached it and he immediately took his position beside Reeden. The thick rope was wet with spray when he grabbed it and it almost slid through his hands. They were hauling one of the main sails.

"You're late!" Reeden yelled over his shoulder and over the noise of the waves that were crashing against the hull of the ship.

"I'm here now!" Van yelled back and stemmed his feet against the floor boards, trying to haul the rope in sync with the other crew members. It was a tug-of-war with the wind and he the rope burned his skin through his gloves.

Spray cooled his heated skin and once the sails were aligned to the wind, the Black Lady picked up even more speed. They were catching up fast, already riding the wake of the other ship.

"Grapnels ready!" The familiar command echoed out across the deck and it was only a matter of seconds until they were boarding.

The sea seemed to boil between the ships when the Black Lady rammed the trading ship, spray splashing angrily. The hulls creaked, ropes whirred through the air and the metal fingers of the grapnels bore into the wood. In a tumult of bodies, yells and blades Van fought his way across the deck of the other ship. The familiar feeling of battle gripped his body, adrenaline pumping through his veins and his muscles tensing. His surroundings blurred and his senses seemed to be honed by the mere expectation of a fight.

He saw a blade sparkle out of the corner of his eyes and he quickly raised his sword to parry the blow. His opponent's arms were shaking so much that he could feel the vibrations through the swords. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips and he shoved the other man hard before sending him into oblivion with the hilt of his sword.

Sometimes it was too easy. The crew members of trading ships were usually hardly able to fight because they had either never properly learned how to or were scared boneless. There was no challenge. There was no fun.

He ducked when dust and splinters suddenly burst into the air to his right where a cannon ball had hit the ship.

Almost lazily, he tripped a crew and knocked the sword out of his hands. The young man gasped and stumbled when he turned and spotted Van. He quickly tried to reach for his weapon that had slid across the deck.

Van raised his sword above his head and was just about to thrust when something clasped around his wrist like a vice, holding his arm in place. He yelped in pain and tried to wind out of the tight grip of Dryden's hand. The pain intensified and he let his arm sink slightly, glaring up at Dryden.

"Enough," Dryden hissed quietly, holding his stare. "It was Allen's order."

Van blinked and looked around. The dust was still settling but the fighting had stopped. He hadn't noticed. When his shoulders relaxed slightly, Dryden loosened the grip on his wrist.

"Don't let yourself be carried away by fighting." His eyes never left Van's face and almost carelessly he pointed the tip of his own sword at the young man who was still on the floor.

Van's eyes narrowed at the patronizing tone of Dryden's voice and he snarled. "You've got no right to give me any orders, you're not my captain."

Dryden was about to counter with harsh words when his eyes fell on Van's sword. It was unsettling to watch the expression on his features change from confusion to surprise to shock to anger all within a few seconds.

"Where did you get that sword?" he asked in a low, urgent whisper and held the fist that was still gripping Van's wrist up into his face.

Van gritted his teeth. "It's mine."

Dryden rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know you got it by the legal means of a pirate but where did you get it?"

"As I said, it's mine. I didn't get it anywhere." Van finally wrenched his wrist out of the tight grip it had been in and took a step backwards, rolling his shoulder. His anger made the air around him vibrate.

"You must've gotten it somewhere." Dryden's voice was impatient and his eyes were boring into Van's.

"No, I've always had it. And even if I didn't, it wouldn't be any of your business."

Dryden's eyes narrowed and Van could feel that he wanted to say something else. It took him a lot of willpower to keep his mouth shut, if the balled fists at his sides were any indication. But Dryden chose to swallow the words and turned on his heels with a sour expression on his face.

The crew was busy emptying the storage room of the trading ship and Dryden spotted Allen talking to Gaddes, laughing loudly. Dryden growled and grabbed a rope to get back on deck of the Black Lady. He would have a little talk with the blonde captain when he was done pillaging.

When he stalked across the deck, his sole intention was to get to Allen's cabin to nurse his anger. It should be worth it when he finally had the talk with Allen. That bastard deserved it.

Lost in his thoughts and muttering to himself, Dryden didn't notice when Millerna stepped into his way until he almost bumped into her. Her lilac eyes were blazing and her skin was glowing with suppressed anger when he looked down at her.

It hadn't been supposed to happen that way. He hadn't wanted her to find out that way. She deserved answers and she deserved his full attention but at the moment he couldn't give it to her.

"Not now," he said gruffly and was about to brush past her when she suddenly grabbed his arm, her nails digging into his skin.

"Don't not now me, Dryden," she growled and tightened her hands around his arm. "You've been avoiding me for days. I deserve some answers."

He sighed and turned to face her. "I know, Millerna, but believe me now is not the right time. I know you're angry —-"

"Yes, I'm angry because you so blatantly lied to me," she interrupted him vehemently.

"Whatever I told you was always as close to the truth as possible."

Millerna stared at him, contemplating another outburst. She knew that it wouldn't impress Dryden. He had never bothered with her temper. "You could've told me, I would've understood."

Her voice was quiet and there was so much hurt and sincerity in it that Dryden wished he hadn't heard it. He knew she meant it, even what she didn't say. And he knew she was right. He had hurt her, he had underestimated her sensitivity. Beneath the feisty exterior she was vulnerable. He had made a mistake and he was not yet ready to admit it.

Millerna bit her lip hard to distract herself from the burning sensation at the back of her eyes. "Why did you suddenly turn into such a jerk?"

"I'm sorry," he said quietly but Millerna had already left. The only reply was the lone cry of a seagull.

Dryden removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He knew he had brought all this upon himself, there was nobody else he could blame. It had been his decision to keep the truth from Millerna. It had been his decision to accompany Allen on this suicide mission. Now he had to deal with it. He could just imagine his father saying "I told you so".

Allen's cabin smelled of old paper and lamp oil and Dryden remembered the scent from when they were younger. The cabin used to smell just like that and Dryden knew Allen resented that he couldn't make his father's ghost leave the ship completely. And yet he was following in his father's very footsteps although he had sworn at his mother's grave to not make the same mistake. Dryden wondered what had changed Allen's mind.

He was sprawled in a chair with his feet on the table, maps buried underneath his boots when Allen entered his cabin. He fixed his friend over the rim of his glasses.

"That expression of yours is telling me I'm up for a whipping." And he had the impudence to grin toothily.

Dryden didn't move, his hands folded on his stomach. "Like hell you are. Allen, mind telling me why that hot-headed kid is in possession of the royal sword of Fanelia?"

Allen held Dryden's stare. Of course he would find out eventually although Allen had thought Dryden would be a little faster on the uptake. He averted his eyes and waved a hand dismissively. "He doesn't know what it means, so it's not a problem."

"So, you do know about it." Dryden's voice was calm but he was boiling inside with anger. And frustration. Of course Allen knew about it and it was just like him to keep it to himself. "You saw the crest."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Allen's lip but he quickly turned away to hide it. He strode to a chest of drawers to the side of his cabin and opened the top drawer. After briefly rummaging through it he found his small, leather-bound book. "Of course, I'm not an idiot."

Dryden removed his feet from the table and leaned forward to rest his elbows on it. His eyes were hard. He hated it when Allen played with him like that, hated to beg for every single bit of information. "Then you must know where he got it, he wouldn't tell me, said he's always had it."

"He didn't lie." He reached for a quill and calmly opened the book, not wasting a glance at Dryden. "Van is a little too honest for a pirate, I blame his royal heritage."

"What?!" Dryden exploded and slammed his hands flat on the table. "But – but that's impossible! The royal family of Fanelia died when their ship sank 16 years ago! Everybody knows that!"

Allen lifted his head and gave Dryden a look as dry as desert air. "Well, obviously the prince survived. He's pretty alive if you ask me."

"Are you telling me the crown prince of Fanelia is on board this bloody ship?" Allen was enjoying this a little too much for Dryden's taste.

"No, he's actually king since his parents died and all." The blond captain narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice to a hiss. "And why don't you say it a little louder, I don't think they could hear you at the South Pole!"

Dryden was still processing what he had just heard. He had thought Allen capable of a lot of things. "Are you insane?"

Allen waved his little book, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. "Up to your little outburst here nobody but me, Gaddes and a few other perceptive members of my crew know about it and I wish to keep it that way."

"What about him?"

There was a moment of silence and laughter filtered through the wood from outside. "He doesn't know and I don't see any need in telling him and burdening him. He probably lost his memory when that ship sank, must've been 7 or 8 years old, doesn't know who he is. He was probably twelve when I picked him up, didn't know a thing and I saved the poor soul."

"You have had the Fanelian prince...king on your ship for more than a decade." Dryden had cupped his nose and mouth with his hands and was speaking slowly as if talking to a child. "You could've returned him."

"Dryden, you should know I don't care about politics." There was disappointment in his voice that he couldn't quite hide like something he had stolen and wanted to hide behind his back but was too big so it showed above his shoulders. "There are two basic principles I live on. One, I'm loyal to no-one but myself and two, the sea belongs to nobody. I've been doing pretty well so far and I wish to keep it that way."

"Don't you think he deserves to know who he is?"

Allen sighed and finally put his book away. "I think there's a reason why he doesn't know and he'll be grateful that I spared him the burden of ruling a country when he was a kid. He will thank me for giving him a carefree childhood."

"Carefree childhood," he snorted and Allen narrowed his eyes. Tension hung in the air like thick morning mist. "I wouldn't consider pillage and plunder a carefree childhood when you have to worry about getting caught and being hung for all the laws you broke."

"Dryden, you of all people, have no right to judge this way of life." His voice was the hiss of a viper that had been stepped on. "Just because you chose to live an honest life you don't get to play high and mighty with me. And by the way, I wouldn't consider lying to my fiancé an honest life."

"Allen, be careful." Dryden's intonation hadn't changed at all but anger rang with his words like distant thunder.

"Oh yes, I see, I got you cornered and now you're getting aggressive."

Dryden reached for one of the daggers that lay on the table and twisted it between his fingers to give his hands an occupation. He didn't want Allen to see them shake. "It was not his decision."

Allen smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. "It was not her decision either, Dryden. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

There was a hollow thud when Dryden rammed the dagger into the wood of the table. He did not meet Allen's eyes. He could not.

"I think this conversation isn't getting us anywhere but closer to ripping each other's head off," Allen said after letting the silence feed on Dryden's anger and his voice was definite. "I'd say we call it a day. You may leave."

The legs of the chair scratched across the floor when Dryden stood. He used the last bit of dignity he had left to stop himself from slamming the door shut behind him. This time the smile reached Allen's eyes and bathed in their blue.