Oh my GOSH. It's been nearly a year. I'm sure apologies mean nothing at this point, and to those who are coming back to this story, I cannot thank you enough for your patience. THANK YOU reviewers (you know who you are). Like I said a while back, I've always known/still know how I wanted this fic to go. The plot is still there, I just didn't know how to go about it. But POOF, I just started writing this night and couldn't stop. To those who are new to this, well, I hope you enjoy this! I think I write better than I do in the past, but that can't be helped.

I added two chapters, this and the next one.

So when I last left you guys, Skipper had just regained his self confidence after a crushing defeat by Borius, and a Dragonite called Reingard dragged/ruined the Seatunder into a giant crater that housed the Dragon's Holy Land.

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The ship was lifted clear out of the lake and gently placed on its side on the grass. "Let my brothers and sisters do their work," Rei had said as he ushered them away. From the other side of the lake Skip squinted at what looked like a toothpick in the distance and the mass of creatures clambering about it. Once he thought he saw a jet of fire and heard a crunching of wood. It pained him to see his ship in such a state, so he leaned back on the velvety grass and watched the clouds cross from one end of the crater to the other.

"This is the life eh?" said Flint as he stretched contently.

"Aye, but we can't stay here forever," Skipper replied.

"I know, I know…"

Back in Lainaria, with the Captain withdrawn, everybeast had a lot of time to reflect, and Flint, as hotheaded as he could be at times, was no exception. He still couldn't quite place the feeling inside of him when Borius revealed himself on that accursed ship. The weasel had slew his father too, after all. The Totodile's mother was always a bit… haughty… a worry wart, a control freak. His father was the one he looked up to, the one who threw him into the ocean when he was naught but a hatchling, the one who gave him his first throwing knife. Flint's mother had always insisted that he stop hanging out with "that split-tailed scalawag" and to "put your claws in the soil and be a good, honest farmer." But it was his father's words that he always held close:

"Swim with your claws, son. They're webbed for a reason, ye know!"

The Totodile kicked the water dejectedly. "Aw, Dad, what's the use? If Mum ever finds out yer teachin' me t'be a no-good sailor she'd skin the both of us alive!"

"Nevermind your Mum now… She ain't like the two o'us seabeasts, but she's only lookin' out for our well bein'. No matter what, you take care of her, understand?"

"Of course, Da…."Flint muttered dejectedly.

The Feraligatr put his claws on his hips and scowled at his son. "Don't ye talk to me like that, Flint. I didn't say ye can't chase yer dreams…"

"But…"Confused, Flint looked up at his father, who was focusing on something in the distance.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, son. You and your pal Skip… one day I'll see you two rogues sail past that horizon."

And that was the only time in his life that Flint cried. Rather than bawl in front of his dad he splashed into deeper waters and flailed about for all he was worth. "Hahar! Now yer swimmin'!" his Dad had said. When his father was killed, when his mother died of grief, there were no tears. Flint almost felt ashamed. He had so many reasons for sorrow and so many for anger. Then again, so did Skipper, and the Buizel bore his weight just as stoically. No, wait… Flint remembered that his friend was crying… there were silent tears that coursed down the fur on the weasel's cheeks. Why didn't he? That day, when he stared eye to eye at his father's murdered, it was a peculiar feeling that was inside of him. Yet he remained calm while Skip had turned into a raging madbeast. Why?

"Hey you two!"

Skipper and Flint sat up as Torq and Tottle ran towards them.

"Come on," she said, "the dragons have something to show us!"

The group went further into the grassy field until they were surrounded by a sea of grass. Dorian and Rei were already there, standing beside an elegant, red and white creature, hovering in mid-air. She crooned in a shrill, chime-like voice whose beauty seemed to reflect in her blue eyes. It seemed that many dragons had those startling blue eyes.

Rei took the liberty of translating for the crew. "This is my friend, 'Light of the Morning Star.' You may call her 'Star,'" he added, noticing the slackened jaws on some of their faces, "She is quite young, only a few decades old… ("Decades?!" Flint muttered), but she and her twin brother possess a unique skill that few others have."

"What is it?" Tot asked.

"You shall see. It is called 'sight sharing…' Where are your other two friends?" Rei had just noticed the absence of the cook and the parrot, and looked around expectantly.

"Oh, don't mind them," Flint said casually, "Them two always appear at the right place at the right time. One's probably raidin' your stores and the other's probably causing trouble…"

"Very well then."

There was a sudden ringing in their ears as the Latias' eyes filled with light. Dimensions of time and space were whisked away as they were pulled into a vortex. Everything was spinning, and all but Dorian and Rei had fallen down to what was now empty, but solid, space. But shapes started to take form, like the blurry-eyed view of someone who had just woken from a nap. Sounds distinguished themselves from the ringing. And soon, they were in another place.

It was still the edge of the sea… They were in a town that looked like it was crammed onto the coast in one night. Soggy wooden docks ran down the developed coast, harboring all manners of different vessels. There were fishing boats, steamships, and even row boats. Even more varied were the townsbeasts. All looked tough and streetwise, though one cannot assume them all to be pirates. There were merchants selling their wares, and carpenters repairing roofs… Mothers could be seen milling their way through the packed market stalls and untended youngsters ran about without a care. Crooked houses blew smoke onto each other as tethered clotheslines ran from one to the next. There was shouting and laughter and all-around disorderliness.

"This is a port town," Skip noted.

"Not any port town," the Golduck added, wide eyed, "This is a town in Teria, the largest land mass… a continent."

Their view suddenly swerved, rising above the rooftops and soaring out over the ocean. Something lied in the distance, a small island perhaps? It was only a speck at first, but they soon recognized it: the Aurora Borealis. They flew around the great ship's mast and over the deck; it seemed deserted.

"Do not be fooled," Rei cautioned, "it is guarded by creatures we cannot see."

"Where's the crew?" Torq asked, as Skipper ground out, "Where's Borius?"

Again they returned to the town, scanning the area. "Look, there!" Tottle pointed out. It was Carakl, adjusting the veil over her head and milling her way through the crowd. Suddenly, she froze, her ears pricked and her sensors quivering. She turned on her heels, staring wide eyed at them…("Don't worry, she cannot see us, as we are not really there," Rei assured them), but decided it was nothing and moved on, disappearing into the mass of creatures. Dorian's eyes narrowed as he, too, recognized some creature. His gaze followed the two distinct silver horns that disappeared into what he knew to be The Tavern of Fools.

"So they're here…" Skipper muttered, looking around ravenously for Him… But if there were any pirates in the town, they blended in perfectly with the civilians. It was impossible to tell who were friends and who were foes.

"I think we've seen enough," said the Dragonite, and in a swirl of colors and cacophony they were back in the Holy Land.

Star crooned again, and whisked back and forth merrily, apparently proud of herself. Torq placed a paw on her chest, her heart was beating like war drums. "What was that?"

"Sight sharing," Rei repeated, "Her brother is keeping watch in that town as we speak, hidden by their second ability: to refract light and appear as if they are not there. Nobeast can see him, but he can see them, and we can see what he is seeing."

"Amazing."

Skipper stared hard into the dragon's eyes. "That's where we're headed, aren't we?"

Rei nodded, "Yes, you are fated to go there, friend. It is written on the map." He held out the mysterious map that the Buizel had obtained in Lainaria.

"How do you know?" the weasel asked.

The dragon's eyes twinkled as he replied, "You have very powerful allies, Skipper. Rest now. Teria is far, but I will get you there fast." With that, he and Star were gone, mere wisps in the clouds.

The Lucario's sensors trembled as she picked up a familiar aura. They were alive, she could feel it… and she knew they were fated to meet again. There was a voice in her dreams, one that was calm and motherly, and it told her not to be afraid, and to follow where her instincts led her… Night after night, the voice would return and free her from her nightmares. It was like meeting an old friend… or Destiny. But now was not the time for that. She drew the veil tighter around her face and disappeared into the crowd. There was a job to be done.

It was a gorgeous morning. The sun was shining high, the gulls were laughing, the dragons were humming… and most importantly, the Seatunder was sea worthy once again. Skipper ran a paw across the hull disbelievingly and whispered in awe, "This can't be… my ship?"

"It is," Rei replied, above Flint's mutterings of "I'll take 'er if you don't want 'er…"

The belly of the vessel was completely redone and reinforced with some kind of light weight metal. The wood was polished to a dazzling shine and smoothed to perfection. The mast and crow's nest were fixed with stronger, aged wood and the sail was woven of a tighter fabric. It was like a new ship altogether, but it still had the same feel, and it still flew the same blue flag. Truly the Seatunder reborn.

"And this," this dragon continued, breaking the Captain out of his stupor, "is a gift from our Holy Land." He held out, on the tips of his claws, what seemed like something from a dream. From the soot-black binding to the gilded waves on the basket, and the glow of blue on the edge of the blade, it was a rapier like none other. Of course, Skipper knew, there was only one way to test a sword: he turned it in his paw like a baton, it flowed smoothly across his palm, made for him, danced for him… and most importantly, it sang. It sang like some otherworldly metal, deadly and hauntingly beautiful. Its voice was electric and penetrating, hard to describe…almost like… like dragon song.

"Let all who hear this blade know that we dragons fly by your side, Skipper. Now, are you and your friends ready to set sail?"

The Buizel's mouth open and shut like the jaws of a fish, but he could not find the words for gratitude. Rei took that as a 'yes,' and so they went.

The bindings offered a much more comfortable grip for the helmsbeast as he rested his claws on the wheel. Not that there was any need for steering… the Dragonite once again towed the ship towards their destination. The wind and the waves were against them, so it was much appreciated help, and they would get to Teria many times faster this way. The plan was for Rei to get them within sight of the continent, then they were on their own. They would then swap the Seatunder flag for a common merchant's flag and dock at the far end of the port town, a place where lazy fishers and boat shacks dwelled and prying eyes had no business wandering about.

Though sun and moon and thunder come,

Waters swell, waters swell.

Who here knows what will become?

Even legends cannot tell.

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Somewhere in the ports of Teria wandered six creatures, each with an agenda of their own.

"Keep the Seatunder safe and steer'er out of port if trouble starts. We'll meet up with you later," the sea weasel had told the Slowpoke before leaving the ship.

Gully flapped hard to keep pace with a flock of Wingull was chatting with who were soaring effortlessly on the wind.

They had split up into three groups: Torq and Tottle, Flint and Skipper, and Dorian had insisted that he go on his own.

"This is like the day we first met, isn't it?" Tottle asked Torq as they made their way through the crowds. It was a port town very similar to this one, filled with disorder and endless noise, but no malice. Then came the cannons, and then the pirates… Many beasts fled inland or were killed… Torq and Tottle happened to run into the same shelter, and was defended by Dorian later on when they were cornered by a group of rogues. The town was destroyed and overrun; the three were struggling to survive. And then they found Skipper…

Torq nodded and replied, "Let's hope our stay here is more… pleasant."

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To the next chapter!