"Is this all we made today?" Lovino sighed as he placed the last coin into a leather pouch, the coppers clinking against one another as he pulled the drawstring to close it. He leaned back on his chair, placing the coin pouch on the table and scratching the back of his head. "I'm sure I caught enough."
"You did and I sold most of them. These are common fishes, fratello. I can't exactly raise the prices or people won't buy them at all!" Feliciano said, back turned to him as he scaled the fish expertly. It only took him a minute to completely scrape off the scales and clean up his chopping board. His knife screeched as he sharpened it against a whetstone, preparing the blade for the next step.
"You let them haggle you, is it?" Lovino was quick to raise his voice, sighing in defeat after his accusation.
Feliciano could feel the disappointment through his brother's voice. "Fratello, I-" A yelp cut off his rebuttal. Wavering his attention for only a second cost him as he sliced cleanly across his palm, filling the kitchen with the smell of iron as blood oozed out of the cut.
"Let me see that." Feliciano didn't even hear Lovino get up from his seat at the barren table but he's already by his side, taking his hand gently to inspect the wound. "Get that wrapped up quickly, press on it hard and keep it elevated, I'll go get some herbs." Lovino relayed his instructions clearly and concisely before stepping away from his younger brother.
"Fratello, you don't have to!" Feliciano protested but Lovino only tore up a rag and threw the strips of cloth at him before going for the back door.
"I'll be quick." The cool air greeted Lovino as he exited the little house, perched by the rocks, right next to the sea. Waves crashed against the dark rocks and the fishing boat tied to their little pier, rocking the boat gently in its place. He undressed quickly, flinching slightly when the cold droplets of water flying from the waves hit his skin.
Lovino did not have to endure the cold wind for long as he jumped into the sea. The saltwater enveloped him, making his skin crawl with slime and his neck fill with water. Fins in shades of orange and red sprout from his forearms. In a blink of an eye, his legs turned into a tail, littered with red and gold scales that reflected the little moonlight that pierced through the water. The muscles in his tail flexed and the large fin at the end propelled him forward and downwards into the dark depths below. He dived deep, knowing that he will soon see the caverns which hold a potent herb that could heal his brother's wound.
XXXX
Barely before the sun's shining rays broke through the wide sky, a proud galleon, The Proserpina, with her green sails unfurled in light winds, gently disturbed the calm waters of the Mediterranean. Ropes tightened as wood creaked alongside the quiet crash of water against hull. At her bow, stood her captain, his emerald gaze fixated on the horizon hidden under the cover of darkness. Not for long. Blond strands and long red coat shifted in the salty breeze as he occasionally checked on his first mate at the helm. He inhaled softly, catching a small ball of fire floating beside him. "Alfred!" Arthur shouted in a whisper as to not wake his sleeping crew. "Douse that flame at once!"
"Sorry, pa. The fog–" Without another word, the younger man snapped his fingers, extinguishing the fire then returned his hands to the wheel. Tensed. He stared out into the open sea as well, awaiting for something to rise, to appear. He knew a certain danger which never rested lurked just beyond their sight.
A man swung down from the crow's nest, sliding swiftly and fixing his brown hair and smoothing the creases of his maroon jacket upon landing. "Captain Arthur," he stood with shoulders back and hand firmly grabbing the hilt of his straight sword, "I believe it to be safe to continue our voyage. I have not spotted Os Ventos de Sangue nor her red canvas."
Hand rested on the Hong Kongese."I trust you Ka Lung, however, I'm aware how the Ventos de Sangue can stalk her prey as quiet as a grave." That was where she held an advantage, blending in with the black of a moonless night. Especially with this damn fog. The further they sailed from the coast, the better. "Return to the nest."
Ka Lung bowed briefly then leaped onto the ratlines, climbing effortlessly to his perch. Arthur would not breathe easily until he made port back in England. He paced along the deck, its floors groaning beneath his boots as his eyes never left the horizon. From below deck, another blond man yawned while rubbing the sleep from his blue eyes. After scaling a set of stairs, he found the source of the noise, his captain's anxious strides back and forth. Approaching close, he let out another yawn. "Captain… have we made it out of the Mediterranean yet?"
"Davie." Arthur stopped but never tore his gaze away from the sea. "Not yet. We're still near Naples. Back to sleep with you. You'll need your strength in case … of him." With a grumble leaving his lips and arms stretching overhead, Davie headed back to the hammocks beneath. Slowly, the streaks of orange painted the sky skillfully behind him as day gradually broke. He hadn't the luxury to take in a beautiful morning though. As the country of Italy shrunk more and more, Arthur's rigid shoulders relaxed. Perhaps they had lost the Ventos de Sangue during the night? Even if true, his guard refused to lower. Not until they reached the shores of his birthplace.
"Enemy ship up ahead!" Ka Lung called loudly.
"Where?" Arthur breathed and searched for a galleon flying red sails, spotting them as the air cleared. Starboard side facing The Proserpina with gun ports open and ready, the Ventos de Sangue awaited patiently for her foe's arrival, her captain not found by Ka Lung, however. Arthur quickly crossed the length of his ship towards Alfred. "I suppose he's inevitable this time. You know what this means, lad?"
"Fire holes into his ship until he has no choice but to retreat for repairs?"
"That's my boy. Stay on the wheel." A smile before he shouted. "Ka Lung, sound the alarm!" Poor Davie probably already fell back asleep, he thought as the bell rang hard, waking everyone. Soon, the ship came alive with the clamoring of his crew. His gaze lowered to the only soul he found, a Brazilian woman he knew too well.
Marciana, after hearing the bell, hopped off the line and marched before the open door of her captain's darkened cabin, but did not step inside. "They're here." From the shadows, she noticed the man facing her with a glinting smirk.
Hao Jing, who was standing at the bow, quickly but calmly made his way to the captain's cabin as well. His footsteps were light, only thumping lightly against the boards and not even making them creak. It was easy to not hear him coming amidst the clamor unless he announced his presence vocally. Taking his usual place at Marciana's side, he could feel his captain's anticipation radiating out from the door. "The usual operations, I presume?"
Marciana shared a glance with her hazel eyes. "Except for our surprise."
Loaded cannons stretched from their open doors, as two ships drew nearer. Arthur crossed his arms confidently, searching for the Portuguese captain who suspiciously hadn't shown himself yet. Not like him, he wondered with furrowed thick brows. The shouting of enemy crewmates came commonly during naval battles, however, color drained from the English pirate's face, mouth agape. Breath hitched for a second, Arthur retreating from the rails as more and more members ascended onto the Ventos de Sangue's amidship. More than last time. More than they could handle. "That incompetent bilge rat bastard." Once all hands reached the deck, Arthur's worried eyes darted between his numbers and the staggering amount of the opposing force.
So many appeared on the foe's side, some men and women climbed onto the rope ladders, waving their swords and axes, yelling.
"Captain." A softer voice tore Arthur's gaze away, facing Quartermaster Matthew. He gestured to the men behind him. "We're awaiting your orders." However, he read the clear dread in his captain's eyes. A shot had not been fired as Arthur did not utter a command and looked at the faces of his crew. The people he had grown to trust and in turn, they had grown to trust him and his decisions. Would they lose their faith in their captain after this decision? Arthur knew the reason behind the sudden amount of hands, most likely a desperate purchase by his long time rival. He also knew his crew would risk their life for him but this? This wasn't worth anyone's life lost.
"... we're surrendering."
"What?!" Alfred shouted first as everyone's protests mixed among themselves. "We have the wind on our side!" Not much in truth. "Why would you want to surrender?!"
"I do not want slaughter!" Arthur's voice silenced all. "I shan't allow a single one of you to die because of his lack of merit and relentlessness." Facing the swiftly approaching red sails, he descended the stairs to the main deck. "I am surrendering myself."
Once in range, the opposing side rose their grappling hooks and boards, those bought snarled and bellowed for intimidation as the original crew members knew their adversaries better. Marciana held up her arm with a fist which prevented the pirates behind from advancing. Not yet. As they stood meters apart from one another, The Proserpina's crew diminished in comparison. The brunette returned to the line. "Captain Recife wants Ondas Verdes. Step forth!"
That was the only thing his rival had ever wanted. Arthur. He hesitated to walk. Was today actually the day? He should have guessed that Portuguese man, who could never best him fairly, would resort to a tactless scheme. In the end, perhaps it was best. The Englishman knew the other pirate would never rest otherwise. Like a shark chasing the fresh scent of blood. Even if they made port, when they disembarked, he would always hunt for him. After placing a single step, Alfred's hand struck and clutched Arhur's arm. "Dad, no!"
"Alfred. It's going to be alright."
"But, he's going to-!"
"Shh…" a light coo, "it's alright." Eyes returned to the brunette and hardened in a glare, refusing to show an ounce of fear. "Present. What do you seek with me?" He asked, as if he hadn't known the answer for years.
Marciana lowered her arm. "Bring her in!" Hooks flew and latched upon the rails, forcefully dragging The Proserpina until close enough to slide thick planks across, bridging the two ships. No one moved. No one made a sound. An antsy blonde woman lurched forward on the board but Marciana lowered her axe, board side of the blade against the other pirate's chest. She shook her head and pushed the other woman off the board.
From the darkness of the cabin, a slow but hard pounding of heels emerged. Thud, thud. The crowd of hired scoundrels parted ways, forming a clear path for their captain as a rattling unlike iron accompanied the steady pacing. Thud, thud. Arthur's expression remained calm despite the snarl struggling for freedom with each stomp. Thud, thud. Green coat swayed over a tall frame matching Arthur's height. Tricorn hat covered brown curls with the exception of a short ponytail peeking through. Sea green eyes adorning tanned scarred skin with a mole under the right found Arthur's emerald scowl.
Captain Esmeraldo Recife hovered one boot over the deck of The Proserpina, never breaking eye contact. His smirk, slashed on his left, simply grew upon touching down his prey's ship. "Ondas Verdes." He drawled out, one hand on his hip, other grasping a black hilt.
Arms tightly folded, resisting the instinct to expel the vermin from his ship. His brows, lacerated on his right, furrowed harder. "Esmeraldo Recife." Traces of poison laced in each syllable as his lips grimaced at the sound.
Still retaining a shadow of a smirk, the Portuguese pirate circled around the English in slow strides, as if savoring and prolonging the terror he instilled. Hand traced along the broadness of Arthur's shoulders from behind, disappointed but also not surprised when he didn't jolt at Esmeraldo's touch. As he suspected, the other man displayed no fear. However, from Arthur's crew, he did catch Alfred preparing to lunge, the potency in his blue eyes burning. Clearly pleased, Esmeraldo finished his circle and scanned over his foe one last time then turned and crossed the plank. "Tie him up."
"Aye, Captain Recife." Another voice familiar to Arthur, belonging to Arcelia, spoke with an accent from Venezuela. She was quick to cross the board not occupied by Esmeraldo, thick rope in hand.
"Stop!" Arthur yelled as Esmeraldo held his arm up, a signal for Arcelia to take pause as he faced him over his shoulder. "You have yet to agree to meeting my conditions."
This perked one of his brows as he returned to Arthur's front, black sword held just under his chin. "Can't believe you haven't noticed, Verdes but you're in no real position to be making conditions."
Not even a bat of an eye. "Indeed, however," leaning closer towards the blade and not feeling a twinge of fright, Arthur's voice lowered along with his eyes, "I could put up a fight." Fingers at the tip of the sword then traced down alongside it. "I could make this difficult for you right when you are so close to finally acquiring what you've been chasing for eight years." Meeting Esmeraldo's hand at the hilt, Arthur grabbed it and lightly pushed him off. "You meet my conditions and I'll hand myself over without so much of a fuss. What say you?"
Carracks sword slipped back into its sheath, Esmeraldo sneered then folded his arms. "I say I've always admired how that silver tongue of yours always got you what you wanted."
"Still does."
Esmeraldo gave a glance to his awaiting crew then to Arthur. In minor defeat, the Portuguese sighed. "Name your terms."
Hao Jing scanned across The Proserpina's crew, golden eyes assessing their numbers as well as looking for a familiar face. Indeed the size of the opposing crew was still the same, in contrast to their own numbers, brimming at the edge of Ventos de Sangue. Glancing at Marciana, his eyes met with hers briefly before looking at the green back of their captain Esmeraldo Recife.
He would prefer not to fight, especially when he spotted a certain junior amongst the uneasy crew on The Proserpina. Despite that, he still found it hard to agree with Esmeraldo's decision to let Ondas Verdes bargain with him, especially when they blew through their funds to recruit so many more men for his conquest. He sighed quietly, air exhaling only through his nostrils. He would have some work to sort out later on.
"My crew and my ship go unharmed." A pause. "Indefinitely. You are to never hurt them nor The Proserpina."
"So long as they agree the same treatment to my crew and Os Ventos de Sangue." He knew there was more though, but allowed Arthur to quiver in the silence. Once met with unshakable nerves, however, he asked. "What else?"
"I am allowed to bid farewell to Alfred." Hand glided to his son then to himself. "In exchange for my life."
"Pa, no!"
Arthur then reached out a tempting hand for Esmeraldo. "Do we have an accord?"
Holding his chin, fingertips tapped along his scarred jawline as Esmeraldo hummed. Arthur already knew the answer but also knew his rival liked to dangle him in suspense. A sensation he refused to feel when in his presence. "I am to never fire upon your crew nor ship and they are to likewise never fire upon me," he shook hands firmly, sealing the deal, "in exchange for your life."
Knowing Esmeraldo as well as he knew himself, Arthur trusted him to keep his word. Ultimately, he knew what Esmeraldo sought most. Upon facing his son, Arthur lifted his hat and placed it upon him. "Lad, you have done me proud."
"No, no, no. Please don't. Don't do this." Alfred removed it, trying to return the hat but Arthur held it against his chest. "There has to be something else we can do. We can still fight him!"
"Look at his forces, my child. I will not allow him to take a soul from me, even if that means giving him mine."
"Please." Alfred's breath hitched as Arthur placed his tricorn on him again.
Shrugging off his red coat and draping it over his son, Arthur thoroughly looked over him and fondly grinned. He straightened the folds, noting how it fit perfectly on him as his heart swelled pridefully. "I've always wanted you to take my place, Alfie." His voice then rang strong. "Listen! By my order, I hear by name Alfred Jones as your new Captain. You are to obey his command as you would my own, lest I haunt you from the sea." Another stifled cry gained Arthur's soft gaze, his assuring smile never faltered.
"P-papa."
"Matthew," his second son, "you are to remain as quartermaster under your brother." He reached out and grasped his hand, tugging him close. Shoulders shuddered as the middle child stared at the deck, not realizing Arthur twisting off his rings. The pirate remembered how much Matthew loved them, even catching him a few times wearing them when they were too big for his fingers during his younger days. The Englishman slipped them onto the appropriate fingers, satisfied once assured they wouldn't fall off. "I know you will continue to do a fine job. Davie!"
Before the young man could speak, Esmeraldo reminded everyone of his presence. "The agreement was to bid farewell to Alfred solely."
Instead of paying his rival any mind, Arthur coaxed his youngest to come closer, taking one of his hands into his own. "Davie. You are prompted as Alfred's first mate." He opened Davie's hand and secured his gun and sword in his palm. "Listen to him well, alright?"
"But we should-" He stopped himself, red coloring his cheeks as his eyes grew misty. There was no use in arguing with his now former captain. Years of service told him Arthur's stubbornness would never weaken. "I will." Swallowing hard, he calmed his breathing and forcefully bit his lip to stop the shaking. He managed a smile. "I will."
"Ondas Verdes, I haven't gotten all morning." Esmeraldo reminded again.
Arthur strode for the plank where Arcelia waited but meeting Alfred's pleading gaze, he stopped. His stare lingered as if trying to never forget his face. "Alfred– Captain Jones, I should say."
"Don't–"
"There is a whole world out here, waiting for you to seize it!" Voice spoke with vigor. "They'll write songs and draw wanted posters for you, my boy!" Both hands squeezed Alfred's shoulders as he touched foreheads and adjusted the hat. "Promise me they'll never catch you?" There were no words. Instead, the young Captain tossed his arms around his father, squeezing him tighter to his chest. Unbridled strength caused a grunt from the Englishman but, he held Alfred immediately, closing his eyes tighter. Arthur stroked his back, the sensation of hot sobs in the nape of his neck tempted his own. He would not shed a single tear, not when his rival wouldn't hesitate to ridicule him.
"I love you. I–" Alfred choked as Arthur continued comforting him, hushing quietly. He sang something softly by his ear, the heat against his neck persisted. Songs always soothed Alfred in his youth during nightmares and storms. Knowing it was the last one brought no solace as he couldn't utter anything but sobs.
"And I love you."
"Enough!" Sicken by the words, having already turned away from the display, Esmeraldo nearly hissed while raising his voice. "Blimey! On with it-"
"You've worn Captain Recife's patience thin! Step to it!" The same antsy blonde from before shot a bullet right into the board, nearly missing Arthur's foot.
Within seconds, Esmeraldo's blade found itself against her throat, shoving her into the crowd. "What the hell do you think you're doing firing at him?!" She stammered, searching for an answer while shoved further back towards the nearest mast. "He is mine. Ten lashings for you! Esteban!"
"What!?" She jerked her shoulder out of Esteban's grasp but he grabbed her arms harder. She kicked and wrangled again, this time, unable to free herself. "For what?! Firing at the enemy?!"
Esmeraldo's tone darken along with his glare, following the out of line woman towards the mast. "I have warned you lot before we had set sail that their captain is off limits. No one is to harm him! I forbid it!" He faced his first mate, eyes now wicked with anger. "Marciana! You know what to do."
Casting another glance at Marciana, Hao Jing wordlessly assured her before she stepped forward. The punishment was harsh, but the recruits were already warned beforehand, even before they set foot on Ventos de Sangue. He knew the blonde had shot herself in the foot the minute she pulled her trigger.
As Marciana wrapped the whip back in place, the punished fell to her knees, blood seeping into her clothes. Not giving her so much as glance, Esmeraldo sneered. "You got it easy since you're new, otherwise, I'd cut off your hand." Eyes on Arthur, he stepped back in surprise to find the Englishman already bound by the wrists on his ship. Taking the rope from Arcelia and wounding it around his hand, he yanked Arthur closer. "Finally." A whisper before announcing to his crew. "Everyone, as agreed, we are not hurting The Proserpina nor her crew, but, board her and steal all the gun powder you can carry. Take any treasure you can find and don't forget the rum. Go!"
There came a cheerful roar of men and women as they quickly crossed, pushing as they trespassed and reached below deck. "What are you doing?! We had an agreement!"
"Aye. No harm will be done but you said nothing about The Proserpina's supplies." Pulling away, Arthur rushed for his vessel but his rival heaved him right back. "Also, I can guarantee she won't fire back if she has no powder to fire with."
"Nor can she defend herself, you backstabbing, impulsive–!"
One arm holding the Englishman in place suddenly squeezed him firmly against his front. "Many things I am, pirate being the first but a backstabber? Twasn't me."
"Nor was it I." Arthur strained to speak against the hold. He could do nothing but watch as more and more of his trove dwindled. His focus remained on his crew though.
"Stay out of his cabin!" Esmeraldo barked and the pirate back away with their arms raised, not daring to suffer the same fate as Marciana's lashings. "Alfred– Captain Alfred." Another call. "Raise one of your anchors and bring it over here."
"Why are you asking him to do that?"
"I'll be needing it. I know that boy of yours is strong." Indeed, usually at least four people were needed to raise a heavy piece of iron but that Alfred hoisted it alone. "Easy boy." He warned as the young man carried the massive anchor, avoiding any of Esmeraldo's mates and setting it beside him. He read the fury in those bright blues but already having Arthur and more men, there was nothing to be done. "You sure you didn't cast a spell on him?" He asked as Alfred returned to the near empty ship, his crew at least allowed their swords.
"You damn well know I found my boy like that."
Once someone loaded his last keg of rum on the Ventos de Sangue and they pulled back their boards, the Portuguese shouted one last order. "Drop all sails and leave us, Captain Jones." Alfred gripped the rails tightly, chest heaving while his head lowered. Body wracked as the wooden rails cracked under his pressure, helpless to stop this.
"Hands to the lines," Alfred rose his head, glaring every possible dagger at Esmeraldo, "and set course for the west."
"Adorable. His first command." A mocking coo slipped as Esmeraldo worked on securing the rope completely around Arthur's body. He tied the two ends together, connecting Arthur to the anchor. His face fell neutral, no way would he reflect a moment of panic, nothing to satisfy the Portuguese's long sought revenge. Once the green canvas of Arthur's ship dwindled and blended with the green sea, Esmeraldo admired his work. "After all these years of knowing one another, I expected better from you." He pulled back his coat, revealing chains dangling from his belt. "I even had these special shackles made to commemorate the occasion but you didn't even put up a fight before my arrival."
Those were not made from common iron. They appeared as clean as silver. "I saw your numbers, the bastards you bought and I didn't want to lose a soul. But I also know, deep down, you're only after me."
"No matter. This anchor will do. To the plank."
As agreed, there was no fuss while the English pirate walked to the edge of a creaky board. He became suddenly aware how deep the usually calm and inviting waters below were. Arthur did struggle with the ropes, testing their worth. "You're getting careless. These knots are weak."
"They'll tighten as you sink to the bottom of the ocean. Hoist the anchor!" A few of the men grabbed the anchor and cursed over each other about the weight.
"Por que não podemos simplesmente atirar no baca chupador de lima?"
Not exactly a wise choice to speak like that. Hao Jing remained silent. There was one thing they neglected to tell the newly hired men. Ondas Verdes wouldn't let himself be insulted like that, even when he was already doomed.
Without missing a single beat, Arthur fired back in perfect Portuguese. "Faça melhor punheta, então talvez você tenha alguma força. Vocês chicotearam cadelas."
Shocked more by the fact the Englishman understood them rather than what he said, one pirate slipped the anchor, the rest cursing again as they dropped it accidentally, cracking the deck boards. They scurried to raise it before their captain noticed.
Looking the other way, Marciana huffed heavily then assisted in lifting the anchor until the men got their bearings. "This is why we could never discuss our battle plans in Portuguese."
With hand fiddling over his cravat, Esmeraldo seemed more distracted than invested with the small debacle behind him. Sea green eyes stared intently, finger traveling from neck to collar back and forth. He wondered…
"One a count of three! One!" The group strained as they lifted together, some red in face as veins pulsated on their foreheads. "Two-"
Esmeraldo motioned his hand. "Wait."
"Agora porra o quê?"
"I need to know…" Hand lingered against his cravat with idle strokes of his index finger down along the silk, studious stare lowering to Arthur's neck. With heels half off the plank's edge, the Brit could only lean back so far as Esmeraldo drifted his hand cautiously towards him. Shoulders stiffened as Arthur felt the subtle pressure of fingertips slip under his neck cloth and lower a few inches. He inhaled sharply as sea green eyes glinted wildly like discovering a well kept secret. Chest tightened and heart drummed as Esmeraldo's hand clutched around something. Two ends of a silver chain joined in a fist rising between the long known rivals. Bounded hands clenched furiously as the Portuguese revealed an item. In his open palm, shining so elegantly in the glow of the sun, laid a silver seahorse pendant. Thumb brushed over the creature's face, along its chest then traced the loop of its curled tail. He scoffed through an ill smile. "You … pathetic git. You're holding onto a dead memory?" He grasped the seahorse and raised it high, threatening to break it off.
"Don't you dare!" Arthur, for the first time, yelled with a plea in his voice. "It's all I have left of him!"
"That friend of yours has long since passed, you sentimental fool. Fine." He released the necklace. "Keep it. If you're lucky, it'll scare off the sharks." Reaching by his belt, Esmeraldo pulled out an ivory dagger. Oh, wrong one. Hand shifted to a normal one beside it, removing and pressing the blade by Arthur's throat. Seeking to hear more of that pleading he only had a taste of, he traced the edge slowly along Arthur's pulse but not enough to slice. He found no fear in those emerald eyes. "No begging? You really won't let me have this?"
With how much he knew his rival preferred to keep secrets, Arthur leaned in closer for a quiet jab. "You're better off bottling olive oil like your brother, Antonio."
A hard exhale as the dagger quickly hovered over Arthur's head but instead, he sheathed the weapon. No, no. He wouldn't get a rise out of him. Instead, he took a chance to stab back. "Sails to the wind." Another smile graced his lips as he startled the Englishman but he soon quelled his nerves.
"And never look back."
"Haul the anchor overboard!" After hearing the order, the men gladly threw the anchor past the rails as Esmeraldo clutched Arthur's shoulders and forced him on his knees. Grabbing his chin, he titled Arthur's head back while locking their gazes for the final time. "I want to be the last thing you see before the black abyss takes you."
"In-" Was all Arthur said before taking in a breath of air as he plunged beneath the sea. The sight of Esmeraldo, then the ship's hull, blurred by the water, shrunk faster and faster. He twisted and jerked against the bindings, managing one arm free as the chill of the ocean, where sunlight could not penetrate, pierced him. Throat burned for air, forcing his mouth open but there was nothing but water and darkness consumed him in moments.
Tentatively, Esmeraldo focused on the surfacing bubbles, counting the seconds with his own breath held. Three bubbles, then two… then one. Then… no more. He did not move while searching for another. Five seconds, ten seconds, then twenty.
"Captain Recife?" Marciana called but his hand motioned once more for her to halt.
Tensed shoulders rested as their captain pulled away from the plank, joining his crew. Just like that, it was over. Strangely, he felt additional weight against his back upon the realization. He ignored. Taking off his hat and holding it against his chest, Esmeraldo lowered his head. "Everyone, bow your head in silence. Captain Ondas Verdes was the most worthy … pirate."
Lowering his head, Hao Jing took off his hat without deliberation, holding it to his chest while looking down at his boots. Marciana mirrored his actions, so did Arcelia and Esteban as they stood silent and unmoving.
The new hires exchanged looks of disbelief, prompting one to ask. "Você está falando sério?"
Esmeraldo didn't waste a second to hold a sword to the other person's neck, marching and shoving the man until he hit a mast. "Bow your head before I lop it off! Eu lhe dei uma ordem e você a seguirá!" The slew of them hastily scrambled and took off their hats, facing down with eyes closed.
