Epilogue I

That is how Captain Flameheart was banished from the Sea of Thieves once and for all. Since his defeat, not a skull or rib of an ashen skeleton has been spotted in the Devil's Roar. As I write these words over two decades later, those memories still visit me in my dreams at night, and I get to replay them all over again. Some wake me up in a cold sweat: being chased by the ashen skeletons, nearly being eaten by a megalodon, and facing Flamheart in both his skeletal and phoenix form. Others, though, I wish would replay for the remainder of my slumbers: Wooly and Matt's tearful reunion, meeting all the allies who have become my good friends, finding the enchanted dagger, and seeing Wooly return from the dead.

In mentioning my allies, I'm sure it would be beneficial for anyone reading to know what became of them. Wooly and Matt were ready to return to the seas but had one small problem: they no longer had a ship. Captain Riley had sunk it just before Wooly had been captured and Matt was forced to flee. Sovereign Margot heard about their plight, and since she had been so impressed by Wooly's courage at her banquet, she gave them a generous donation of gold to buy another sloop. The two friends were overjoyed by this gift, and Margot even let them name it. Matt allowed Wooly to pick the name, and he chose the Royal Battlegill. Now they run odd jobs for the trading companies and often help my father with his fishing business.

Wooly kept Riley's mask as a sort of trophy. I expected he would want to get rid of it since it was a bitter reminder of all the pain and suffering Riley had put Wooly through. When I asked him about this, he just grinned and replied, "I consider it memorabilia. It's a symbol that, although Riley beat me down, I bested him in the end. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, the Crimson Crypt do have impressive taste when it comes to their masks."

I asked Oliver if I could confide in my parents about his origin, and he agreed. When they learned he was now practically an orphan, they immediately offered him a place to stay in the tavern, indefinitely. He now calls Ancient Spire Outpost his home, and he's become the brother I have always wanted. Because of his merfolk origin, he is an indispensable asset to my father's fishing. He knows all the spots where certain fish like to congregate at certain times of the day. Now there's hardly a day when we return home without our nets full to bursting.

When my mother heard about Oliver's passion for painting, she remembered that there was an old set of paints that had belonged to her grandfather stashed up in the attic. She brought them down, and since then, Oliver has whiled away many happy hours creating new artwork. Although we had no proper canvas, he would use barrel lids, old planks, and even the underside of the tavern's tables. He never fails to impress us with his masterpieces, and I can tell that even some visiting sailors will pause for a moment or two to admire his paintings.

Trent and Preston sailed Anthony and Shadow back to Devil's Ridge. I extended the offer to Anthony to stay at the outpost longer, but he insisted on returning to his cabin.

"The skeletons made an awful mess of the place," he told me. "I need to get back and patch things up. I know Shadow misses the place as well." The black fox whined in agreement. Before he boarded the Awakened, I pressed something into Anthony's palm: the enchanted dagger.

"This dagger is part of your family's legacy, Anthony. Many people know about it now, but you can recreate its shroud of mystery for the next generation. You should be the one to decide its fate."

Anthony hesitated for a moment before securing the weapon in his belt. "Thank you, Clay. I'll make sure it rests in a secret place."

Because of Alexander's acquaintance with Sovereign Margot, he, Flash, and Vote returned home with her after the battle. Now they work for Margot and help run her branch of business for the Sovereigns. Occasionally, they'll drop in at the tavern for lunch and a quick chat during their business travels.

Three days after the Battle of Fetcher's Rest, I approached Wilma the weaponsmith in her shop with a favor. Over the next few weeks, she crafted ten silver pendants, each hanging from a thin chain. The pendant was a phoenix, its fiery wings spread wide and its head turned to one side. The back was inscribed with two letters, one on each wing: B and F for Banishers of the Flame. Once the pendants had been made, I gave one to each of my nine closest comrades as a token of my appreciation for their loyalty.

I am wearing that pendant even now, and it has been my source of comfort when danger rears its ugly head. If I begin to feel those nagging doubts and fears beginning to stifle me, I rub that silver phoenix and remember that there are those who believe and trust in me. Flameheart thought he had won, but like Wooly wearing Riley's mask, I now wear a symbol of his triumph as my own.

To quote Anthony, I thought I would never see the day when Reapers and Merchants could moor side-by-side without a single shot being fired. Peace is a fickle thing. During times of "peace," everyone feels free to bicker and fight with each other as much as they want. Once a common enemy appears, however, all squabbling stops temporarily to drive away the new threat. Do the groups then immediately go back to arguing with each other? Often they do, but not always. Perhaps during that time of cooperation they begin to realize that their disputes were over such trifling matters.

While the trading companies here still compete with one another, I can definitely tell that their hostility towards each other has diminished somewhat. Considering how many sailors fought with me on Fetcher's Rest, I'm sure many of them will bump into each other again. I hope that, before they begin to quarrel, one will recognize the other from the battlefield. Maybe they will forget they are from another faction and instead remember them as a fellow Banisher of the Flame.

'Becalmed' is a song that longs for the reality of such visions, for it is a song of HOPE: hope for a better future. A future in which pirates put aside the old, bloody habits in favor of what truly mattered: their freedoms. The freedom to send their ships skimming across the waves. The freedom to sleep under the stars on a fair night. The freedom to dance, laugh, and sing in the pleasure of each other's company. The freedom to fight: not for greed, fame, or fortune, but to protect their homes and those they love.

Yes, the sea is still crawling with those who have rooted their lives in greed and lust, but stories such as mine are like a candle in the darkness of human history. Its light still shines, no matter how grim the world around may seem. It is a prayer… a dream... a longing that things can, and will someday, change for the better.

Epilogue II

Anthony slowly scaled the sheer side of the volcano on Devil's Thirst. The smoking cone had finished erupting just ten minutes before, so Anthony was confident it would remain quiet for a while. At the top, he reached under his jacket and pulled out the obsidian dagger. Anthony fondly stroked the dark blade for a few moments as he stared down into the smoking void below.

"Your secret is still safe, Grandfather Kaliber," he whispered. He extended his arm and let the dagger slip from his fingers. The weapon disappeared into the world of eternal fire and brimstone below, where it would undoubtedly remain hidden for ages to come. Anthony turned and began carefully sliding back down the steep grade. Now he felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The family secret was still secure, just as he had planned.