Chapter 7: The Iron Tide
The Koarashi cut through the water like a blade, her patched sails taut against the wind, her hull slicing through the swells. The ice was behind them now, the north’s frozen grasp relinquishing them to warmer waters. The Skeleton Mines lay ahead, their promise of wealth and survival drawing the crew onward like starving wolves on a blood trail.
The sea stretched vast and endless, a shifting expanse of blue and silver. It was a near-perfect day—the kind that sailors prayed for. The sun burned bright, high in the sky, turning the ocean into a rippling field of light. The Koarashi rode the waves with newfound purpose, the men moving about the deck with anticipation, the bitterness of the mutiny now replaced with hunger for what lay ahead.
Then, the ship appeared on the horizon.
A cargo vessel, or so it seemed. Stout and slow-moving, her hull bore the markings of a trade ship—low-riding, heavy-laden, her sails bleached by salt and sun. The first mate narrowed his eyes at her, rubbing his jaw as the Koarashi adjusted course to intercept.
“Merchant ship,” he muttered, watching the way she rocked in the waves. “Could be worth a trade.”
A signal flag was hoisted—an invitation to parley. The other ship responded in kind.
Ai stood at the rail, watching the vessel draw closer. Something itched at her instincts. The ship looked right—the rigging slack with the weight of cargo, the slow, lumbering movement—but there was something in the way it rode the swells, too smooth, too deliberate.
The moment the ships drew alongside, she saw the truth.
The sailors on the cargo vessel moved too well. Their postures too alert, their hands too ready. Then, as the first mate called out, extending an offer of goods, the deception shattered.
A flare shot into the sky, its crimson arc burning against the blue.
Then, chaos.
The cargo ship erupted with movement—hidden hatches thrown open, cannons rolled into position, blades flashing in the sun. The air filled with the scream of grappling hooks, ropes lashing out like striking serpents. The pirates came fast, swarming onto the Koarashi before the crew could react.
Ai’s knife was in her hand before she even thought to reach for it.
A man lunged at her, a cutlass flashing, and she ducked low, driving her blade into the meat of his thigh. He howled, staggering back, but another came—a brute with a rusted saber, his breath thick with rum and rot. Ai barely sidestepped the blow, her feet slipping on the blood-slicked deck.
She needed something more.
Her eyes darted, searching, and landed on a fallen shield—a round wooden buckler, rim reinforced with iron. She dove for it, snatching it up just as another pirate lunged. His blade glanced off the wood, the impact rattling her arm to the bone, but she held firm.
Another movement—her gaze snapped to the fallen weapon at her feet. A spiked ball and chain, its iron head glinting with cruel promise. It had been a pirate’s, but now it was hers.
She kicked it up, fingers closing around the chain, and felt the weight, the power.
Then, she moved.
The next man that came for her barely saw it coming. The chain whirled in her grip, the spiked ball singing through the air before it crashed into his ribs with a sickening crunch. He crumpled, screaming. Another tried to rush her—she pivoted, bringing the shield up to catch his blade, then slammed the ball into his skull. Blood sprayed, bone cracked.
The deck became a battlefield of steel and screams. The Koarashi’s crew fought savagely, but the rogue pirates had the advantage of surprise. Bodies fell to the sea, blood darkening the water.
The first mate was locked in a brutal duel with the enemy captain—a scarred man with a wicked grin, his blade flashing too fast for comfort. Ai saw her moment.
She hurled the spiked ball.
The chain snapped taut, the iron head smashing into the rogue captain’s knee. He roared, stumbling, and the first mate wasted no time. His cutlass flashed once, twice—then the pirate’s head toppled from his shoulders, rolling across the deck before slipping into the waves.
Their captain dead, the remaining raiders faltered. Some threw down their weapons, others turned to flee, leaping back to their ship. The first mate wiped his blade clean and turned to the crew.
“No prisoners,” he growled.
The screams that followed were short-lived.
When the last body hit the sea, the Koarashi was theirs once more. Ai stood among the carnage, breath heaving, hands slick with blood. The spiked ball and chain hung from her grip, the shield strapped tight to her arm.
These were hers now.
The crew looked at her differently. They had seen her fight, seen her carve through men like the sea through stone. She was no longer just another deckhand.
She was something more.
As the sun began its slow descent, staining the sky in hues of fire and blood, the Koarashi turned once more toward the Skeleton Mines, cutting through the waves, leaving the dead behind.
Entered by: 0xe9a1…78d3
Chapter 8: The Years Between
The Koarashi was Ai’s world now, the ship that had molded her, the saltwater that had cleansed her and left her unrecognizable. As the years passed, Ai became an embodiment of the sea itself—unyielding, relentless, and at times, unforgiving. She sailed on the ship through countless moons, her life tangled with the rigging, the tides, and the strange rhythm of the crew.
The first mate, Morn Gael, had taken command after the old captain’s fall, a man of iron who ruled with a tight fist. The ship, once a simple vessel, had now become a symbol of their smuggling and piracy—every port was another coin in their pocket, every sail a new journey into the unknown.
Ai learned quickly. She learned to steer the ship through uncharted waters, to speak with the wind, to take what was hers from the edge of the world. She found herself at ease in the command center of the Koarashi, standing at the wheel and feeling the pulse of the sea beneath her feet. Her instincts guided her as surely as the compass; every wave that rose was a call, every gust of wind an invitation to push further into the unknown.
But the Koarashi was more than just a ship. It was a home, and like any home, it had its dark corners, its whispers, its betrayals.
At first, Ai was content to be a shadow among the crew. Her first year was filled with the mundane toil of a sailor—the grinding labor of hauling cargo, cleaning decks, and scrubbing the pots. The only difference between her and the others was her shield and her spiked ball and chain, which were always close by. Even at her lowest rank, she had always kept these weapons close, as if they were extensions of herself. But soon, Ai proved she was more than just a worker.
By the age of fifteen, Ai stood at the bow of the ship, her eyes fixed on the horizon as the Koarashi cut through the waves. The Elysian Fields lay in sight, and Ai watched in awe as wild ponies with shimmering coats ran free across the emerald plains that stretched endlessly toward the horizon. It was a place of beauty, untouched by the cruelty of men. She often found herself entranced by the sight, drawn to that wild freedom that seemed to pulse in time with her own heartbeat.
Over the next several years, Ai climbed through the ranks. By sixteen, she had earned a place at the table of the crew's elite, whispering words of strategy and cunning, her reputation growing as her skills on the ship flourished. Her ability to navigate through treacherous waters, both literal and metaphorical, won her respect—though not from everyone.
At eighteen, the Koarashi sailed past the Bubonic Beaches, a place she would never forget. The beaches were a cursed expanse, filled with death and disease, where the sand was blackened with rot and the stench of decay hung heavy in the air. She could see the twisted forms of men and women, the broken, bleeding bodies that had been discarded by the merciless sea. She had heard the stories—how those who set foot on that land were forever tainted, marked by the curse that lingered in the air.
Ai had stood at the rail, watching the shores recede into the distance, her face a mask of indifference. She would not touch that cursed land, would not even allow herself to breathe the air. The mere thought of it unsettled her, but she’d pushed the feeling deep down, burying it in the dark recesses of her mind where it could fester and grow. She had a future to focus on, and she would not allow the horrors of the past to hold her back.
Her twentieth year came, and with it, Ai found herself in command of her own destiny. She had fought and bled for this—every bruise, every scar, every victory had been hard-won. She was now first mate, a position that meant something on the Koarashi. But with power came suspicion.
Morn Gael, the captain, had begun to grow weary of her. He spoke little of it at first, his distrust simmering beneath the surface, but the tension was palpable. His eyes lingered too long on her—calculating, assessing. He was wary of her fierce independence, of her pride, of the way she had risen so quickly through the ranks. He didn’t trust cat girls, especially those as proud as Ai. He had heard the stories—how cat girls were known to turn on their masters, how their independence often led to rebellion. The captain feared Ai’s ambition, her potential to overshadow him. He saw in her not a first mate, but a threat to his authority.
And so, when the friction finally reached its boiling point, it wasn’t a surprise.
One fateful morning, with the sun still low on the horizon and the crew scattered about the ship, the captain summoned Ai to his quarters. His voice was cold, his eyes hard.
“Ai,” he said, the words like a whip, “you’ve been a valuable asset to this ship. But you’re a danger now, a liability. You’ve gained too much power, too much influence over the crew. I cannot have it.”
The words stung, but Ai remained silent, her fingers curling around the hilt of her spiked ball and chain. She knew what was coming.
“I’m giving you a chance,” Gael continued, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “A chance to live or die by the sea. Get off my ship. If you can survive the waves, survive the cold, you’ll live. If not…” He shrugged, leaving the threat unspoken.
The crew turned their backs as the captain’s orders were carried out. Ai was cast adrift, her shield and weapon slung across her back as she was tossed into the small dinghy that would carry her away from the only home she had ever known. The wind was sharp, biting as she floated farther from the ship. The Koarashi shrank into the distance, a fading speck on the endless sea.
But Ai was no ordinary woman. She was a child of the ocean, its fierce mistress. The cold could not break her, the sea could not claim her. With every stroke of her paddle, she fought back against the tide, the waves a reminder of the power she possessed. The sea was her sanctuary, her prison, her salvation. And with it, she would carve her own fate.
Entered by: 0xe9a1…78d3
