Captain Morgan was getting nervous. The white city was getting closer and closer. The banana Co. was going faster and faster. And something had launched itself from the pier of the white city, and was coming at them. Fast.

            He couldn't quite tell what it was yet. It looked like it had wings. But he wasn't trusting his eyes, as it also looked like it was surrounded with flame.

            "I think we might have a problem." He said to the waves cresting in front of him.

            Such as? Came the reply, soft and fluid.

            "Well, there seems to be something heading for us." Morgan observed. It definitely looked like it was covered in flames.

            Something?

            "Aye." Morgan said, nodding. Definitely flame covered. "Something."

            A bad looking something or a friendly looking something?

            "I would have to say a bad looking something." He noted, as the thing sped up. They were rushing towards one another at very high speeds.

            How close is it?

            "I would say," Morgan's eyes narrowed as hew took the estimate. "Oh, about at the pretty close level."

            Thank you for your helpfulness. The voice said dryly.

            "Make that exceedingly close." Morgan said, watching the thing grow in his vision. "It's got flames on it."

            Right. Hold on.

            And suddenly the Banana Trading Co. Sped up another ten knots. Morgan's mouth tightened, and he gritted his teeth. They were playing chicken with a flaming ball of death. Yeehaw.

            "Very close." He announced, his lips thinning. His left hand gripped the mast for balance against the bouncing of the ship. He had never been on a ship moving this fast before. They were literally leaving the water. It made him feel like he was flying. His eyes narrowed against the approaching fireball, and his right hand wandered to the cutlass at his belt. He liked the feeling of flying. Flying and Fighting. In that moment, that was all there was to life. And drinking. And stealing. Yeah… that was all. Wait! There was Women somewhere in there too… Was that all? Yeah. That was all.

            Morgan was suddenly jolted back to reality by a particularly strong wave, and fixed his hazel eyes ahead on the fireball. He could now see the thing inside it. It had wings, long skeletal bat-like wings, and they were red. Almost instantly Morgan's memory resounded with his teachings from the catholic school he had gone to as a young lad. Surely all that talk of demons and such hadn't been true!

            The thing was almost on them now, coming closer, and closer. Morgan waited, his cutlass ready. The thing swooped down to the deck, burning towards him swiftly. Morgan grimaced, and swung the cutlass expertly. He felt the satisfying smack of metal hitting flesh. As far as he knew, demons didn't have flashed that went Shluck when it got sliced into. That was a good sign. But then his sword kept going, faster than before even. It was much lighter now. Morgan, off balance, gasped, and fell over one of the benches on the small deck.

            "Ow." He muttered, and looked at his sword. He blinked. He was no longer holding a sword. Just a hunk of charred wood. He also noticed a searing pain in his hand. He looked left, and right. Red, glowing, liquid metal pattered the hull of the Banana here and there.

            A high voice, wavering between maturity and youth said something, and laughed.

            Morgan looked up, rubbing his burned hand.

            Standing above him, feet a solid foot above the hell of the ship was a young girl. She was dressed all in red. Well, technically, what she was wearing wouldn't really have counted as dressed in any society, but it was still red. It looked like it was made of scales, or something, and covered only what absolutely needed to be covered. Normally, Morgan wouldn't mind an outfit like that. But two things bothered him about this girl. First, she was only about thirteen. Morgan made a specific code not to hit on anything younger than fifteen. It was a matter of reputation. Second, this girl was floating. She had long, leathery draconic wings sprouting from her back. Her hair was crimson, long, and flowed wildly down her bare back. Her eyes matched the color. She had long, claw-like nails, and she was still wreathed in flames. Morgan could feel the heat coming off her. Maybe she was a demon. He had heard of Succubi before. Maybe she was one of those. But then again, she was too young. Maybe she was a succubi who got kicked out of hell for not doing her job right.

            She laughed at him, and said something again. She spoke in a weird tongue. It took Morgan a few seconds to recognize it as Japanese. But the accent was weird, and he couldn't understand a few of the words she used. She was saying something about being sorry for the sword, and him being silly.

            "Bloody hell." He muttered, and slowly started making the transition into his Japanese mode of thinking.

            "You really shouldn't" Something something something "When I'm" Something "Fiery like that, you" Something something.

            "Hola?" Morgan asked. "Como estas?"

            A look of confusion crossed the girls face.        

            Crap. Wrong language… Hmm… Japanese…. Japanese… Lessee, not Spanish, not French… not Mandarin. Arabic? No… There we go! Japanese!

            "Konichiwa?" Morgan hazarded, sure he had mispronounced it.

            The girl's eyes brightened. "Ah!" She said happily. Her speech was becoming easier to understand now. "You do speak Japanese. Good."

            "Umm…" Morgan said, staggering to his feet. Carefully, he crouched down in a fighting stance, and grabbed the claymore from his back. "Can I help you?"

            The girl looked at him suspiciously. "Maybe…" she said. "Why are you here?"

            Morgan blinked. This could be some of the trouble the voice had warned him about. He did notice that she had been silent for the past few moments. "Just vacationing?" He said tentatively, holding the claymore in a defensive stance.  "I've heard you Japanese have lovely summers."

            The girl smiled at him, and patted him on the head (she had to hover up another half foot to reach, to Morgan's satisfaction). "Well, then. You enjoy your vacation." She said happily. "Now, I need to talk to your friend."
            To Morgan's surprise, she turned around, and 'walked' strait to the prow. Morgan, witching her interestedly, vaguely noticed that the ship was no longer moving. The girl 'stepped' down onto the prow, up to the very tip, and balanced there perfectly, her feet now touching the wood. "Hello, Kiriln!" She called down into the water. "Nice to see you again, dear!"

            Morgan blinked. That didn't really sound like the call of an enemy.

            Hello, Tiamet. Said the voice from the sea in Japanese. The voice sounded tired and distraught.

            Morgan's eyes widened. Tiamet was a dragon from Norse mythology. This was going to be interesting.

            "What brings you to this part of the ocean?" The girl, Tiamet asked innocently. Her aura of fire had condensed to a ball in her hand, and she unconsciously tossed it up and down while she spoke.

            I think you know that, Tiamet. The voice responded, sounding impatient. Is Atma near?

            Tiamet shook her head. "She went to see Vadise right before I sensed you." She said. "But I think she might know you're here."

            Her senses are better than yours. The voice agreed nonchalantly.

            Tiamet's eyes narrowed. "That wasn't nice." She remarked.

            But true.

            "Shut up!" The red haired girl commanded, hurling her ball of fire down towards the sea. It exploded in a geyser of steam. Morgan swallowed. He could only assume this Kiriln person was his client.

            Morgan's attention was temporarily distracted from the very interesting conversation a small sound from behind him. He turned around, and froze. Rising out of the water by a long, smooth neck, was a head. It was slightly wolf-like in shape, but covered in long, blue-green crystalline scales. Its eyes were a deep piercing blue, and shone in a slight hint of merriment. Two pairs of long horns flowed gracefully back out of its thick, plated eyebrow ridges. Smaller horns ran along the bottom of its jaws, and on either side of its head, there were little frills. The entire head was about three feet long.

            Most things didn't shock Morgan. Morgan had that uncanny gift of having completely practical thoughts about everything. It took him less than a split second to realize who and what his client was. Dragons always had treasure. It was common knowledge. He was being hired be a dragon. A sea dragon, but a dragon none the less. Morgan + Completed service to dragon = Rich Morgan. The pirate's face cracked a grin.

            Tiamet was still staring down into the water, away from the dragon's head.

            A second appendage rose out of the water. This one appeared to be a tail, with a heavy, needle like tip. It rose up, and tapped Tiamet on the shoulder.

            Tiamet turned around irritably. "What?" She demanded. "I'm talkin' here!"

            The tail caught her across the face and sent her flying across the water. She hit the surface, and bounced with a great burst of steam, the skipped again, and again, leaving a burst of steam with each hit.

            Morgan crossed his arms, and nodded appreciatively. "You know." He said. "You get the farthest distance out of something like that if you hit them up at a forty five degree angle."
            The dragon leveled her head with him. "Yeah." She said, actually speaking now. Her voice was deep, and rumbled through the ship, yet still managed to be feminine. "But then she doesn't skip as much. It's funner this way."

            Morgan nodded. "So, your name's Kiriln?" He asked.

            Kiriln nodded. "Yeah." She said. "Surprised?"

            Morgan shook his head. "Not really. Mysterious voices that magically come out a the sea are normally kinda abnormal."

            Kiriln blinked. "Well, then, we had better get going." She said. "Tia's going to be pissed when she dries off."

            Morgan looked at her, curious. "Why don't you just finish her?" He asked.

            Kiriln chuckled softly. "We weren't really fighting." She said. "That's Tiamet. She's one of my old friends. She'll probably be one our biggest allies here."

            Morgan looked up at her with disbelief. "Even after you smacked her up like that?"

            Kiriln nodded. "Yeah." She said. "She can take it." With that thought, she disappeared back beneath the water, and within seconds they were moving again, the wind (along with a long stream of curses from Tiamet) at their backs.

*****

            Aaron yawned slightly, and the chopsticks fell of his nose. He didn't really care now. He had broken the record several minute ago, so it was no big deal. But he was bored again. He stood up, and quickly began taking down weapons from his wall, and sheathing them into random convenient spots. It was time to go out and have some fun.

*****

            Morgan and Kiriln were practically at the pier when Tiamet caught up to them. Morgan was the first to spot her, as his head was the one above the water. She was flying towards them again, faster than she had been the first time.

            The second the ship brushed against the pier, Morgan was off. The logical part of his mind was working again. Fire girl + Ship = Fire girl – ship. He didn't want the firefight getting anywhere near his only ticket out of here.

            "Hey, Kiriln!" He called out to the waves. "You sea-bound?"

            The beast breached the surface, and casually smacked the surprised Tiamet away. "Yeah." She growled, weaving her serpentine head back and forth. "I can change my form, like Tiamet can."

            Morgan blinked. "So, she's a dragon too?"

            Kiriln nodded her head, and dipped below the surface, getting ready for a surprise attack. Us dragons aren't really what you would call 'normal' as far as beasts go.  

            "I don't think that girl would be normal as far as anything goes." He remarked, staring at Tiamet as she recovered from her second bat, and came flying back at the pier.

            Morgan looked around as there was another smack of a tail, and Tiamet went flying again. It was a very nice pier. Now he had a chance to really look at it. It was made of some sort of white stone. It wasn't marble, like some of the buildings were. Maybe it was alabaster, or sandstone. It seemed to be built right out of the seabed, no supports or anything. And the buildings themselves were beautiful, carved out of marble, and alabaster, and all other white stones. Whoever lived here would have to be rich. He smiled, and turned around again.

            He could tell the two dragons were friends. They were obviously not trying to hurt each other. Well, not really obviously, but, they weren't hurting each other non the less. Kiriln was currently trying desperately to spear the smaller girl with her tail. Morgan nodded, and smiled. They would be at it for a while, if he had any judgment of the situation.

            He turned around, and smiled. Time to pick some pockets. As he walked down the streets, he briefly reflected on his week. Monday, he was running from the British and Spanish navies. Tuesday, Kiriln shows up, in the form of a disembodied voice from under the sea. She takes out the navy, and employs him. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, heading here. Saturday, attack by a fire toting, maniacal little girl, and just as quickly gets informed that she is one of his allies. He was actually rather proud of how he had managed himself. He always did have a cool head. But this was just a work of art! And besides, he got some money out of it. He would have to have explanations later, of coarse, but there would be time for that once he needed to know what was going on. Now, he needed a drink, a woman, and some money.

            He grinned, and stalked off into the city, looking for purses to slit.

*****

            Woot! Well, it took me long enough! Sorry, I've been having some major writers block, (I'm still getting out of it, so this wasn't the greatest of chapters.) Also, this is not a complete chapter. My computer's being stupid, so the second part should be coming soon. Sorry.

            Okay, some quick responses.

            Time's Mortal Enemy: Thanks very much. On your criticism about the mystery, the lack of it kind of on purpose. As you could already tell by the meeting between Sesshoumaru and the dragons, they are in 'we're fighting a war here' mode, and as a result, the dragons, except for Kiriln and Vadise aren't keeping as many secrets as they normally would. I'm trying to make Menomaru kind of a mystery right now, as well as what Kiriln is doing here.

            Jessica T it's me: Thanks a bunch. One word though. Oni and Shin were always Menomaru's servants They just didn't have their powers while they were separated from him, hence the reason they were looking. Oh, and real quick,

            DICLAIMER: Oni and Shin are NOT mine. They are in the first InuYasha movie (The love which transcends time) which this fic is vaugly modeled after! They didn't have names in the movie, so I gave them names, but other than that they are not mine!

            Tiger of the Wind: WHOOHOO! Hey, I love you! I mean, you are mega awesome! The coolest every, in fact. Keep up the good work on your own fics, and thanks for all the reviews on mine. Oh, by the way. I was on an RPG fanart site known as IcyBrian. There was someone named Tiger of the Wind there, as well. Was that you? If so, then you're a really good artist as well as a really good writer. Folks, if you haven't checked out tiger's fics, you need to. I'd say that their easily some of the best on the InuYasha section! READ THEM!           

And about Morgan. Piracy is a bad, bad, bad thing. You shouldn't do it. At times, Morgan will make piracy look fun. This doesn't mean you should go and keel haul your cat. That would be mean. Also, he is very opinionated about women, and alcohol (He was named after a spiced rum, after all). Garret Jax Inc. Would like everyone to know that the views, opinions, and general weirdness of Cap'n Morgan in no way reflects of the opinions and views of Garret Jax. I don't drink (I'm only sixteen, after all) and I firmly believe in equality between men and wenches. WOMEN! Women! I meant women. Don't hurt me.

            Anywho, it's late and I need to clean my room before my parents get home, so toodles! More tomorrow