Chapter 46 - Pride & Honor

  Aaron's gaze, fixed upon the main Xenarian fleet, was unwavering. The Scarlet Reaver gained on them. Aaron stood with his arms folded next to Eksa. A certain satisfaction could be felt in the air he breathed, the same air now rife with the cries of enemies left behind. A part of him, though, wanted to be there upfront. Part of him desired to cut them down himself.

  Aaron found himself gripping his sword. His anger was siphoned away. Power filled him. And with it came the memories of responsibility rather than those of tragedy. It stole away the need to use his artificial power, giving him full control over the weapon borne of Chronary.

  He closed his eyes, conflicted. Xenarians were traitors. Xenarians were murderers. Xenarians were also his people. Also his to guide. Sins of the past are not carried by the descendants. A memory. Aaron agreed, but also didn't. What about Lera who was abandoned with nowhere left to go? Betrayed by her own father, and left alone so young with a curse as heavy as a black sky to bear. She couldn't reveal her identity lest she be killed for it. So heinous were the sins of the past that the Zz'tai had been branded traitors.

  I'm not strong enough.

  How was he to change a lie ingrained over generations? And who's going to build that world for us, Viper had asked. “Not me,” Aaron muttered.

  “Hmm?” Eksa asked, turning to face him.

  “Nothing,” he answered. She didn't look too happy about winning against what should have been an impossibility. For Eksa who was the scion of nobility, becoming a pirate was a breach of morals she was struggling to overcome. Flames. I shouldn't want to kill Xenarians. If not for my ancestors, then for Eksa at least. He'd been on this ship for her, and yet he'd failed to protect her morals. She was a killer now, a killer of innocents, and she was too smart to have not realized it.

  Three warships detached from Xenaria's fleet of nine. They formed a reversed V to surround the Reaver. It wouldn't work, Aaron knew. None from the scourge aboard showed any hints of anxiety within their movements. After devastating five galleons, they had full faith in their young captain. Victory became their purpose, as Aaron had wanted. But the price was extracted from Eksa. A portion of her humanity for their loyalty. He watched her carefully as she steered the helm in a way that allowed the Xenarians to more easily surround the Reaver.

  Aaron looked up at the soldiers aboard the warships. Only after having completed the surrounding maneuver did they realize they couldn't aim without risking friendly fire. The price of morality was made apparent. “They won't sacrifice their own for the sake of felling one small pirate ship,” he said. “They probably don't believe it's reasonable.”

  “I wish they had fired,” Eksa said softly. The caravel pulled up beside a warship.

  “Fire!” Aaron commanded. Levers were pulled. Strings snapped back. And bolts were launched with blinding fervor. Bolt after bolt found their mark, laying ruin to wood frames and creating gaping holes soon patched by water ever eager to take the shape of any vessel. Thrice over did the Reaver's hands let loose their malice. And soon, all three warships were filled with screams and saltwater.

  “I wonder how many widows we just created.”

  Aaron blinked. “What?”

  “I wonder how many parents have lost their sons,” Eksa continued. “How many sisters have lost their brothers. How many buckets of salt will be born from their tears.” She turned to face him. “How many children were orphaned just like us?”

  “This is taking too heavy a toll on her,” Viper whispered from Aaron's shadow.

  And no price has been exacted from me, dear friend? “We've done enough, Eksa. Let's go home.”

  “Captain!” a deckhand cried. “We've run out of ammunition.”

  Another reason to leave the battle.

  “Home to a place we stole,” Eksa whispered. She steered the Reaver away. They'd done more than enough. The Xenarians began retreating, firing pointless zoning bolts. They stopped to rescue as many men from their sinking vessels. Eksa was watching their flagship with interest. “The Salamander,” she said. She hastily wiped her teary eyes and spun the helm at least a half dozen rotations.

  “What are you doing?” Aaron demanded. “Eksa?”

  “That's Lord Theodore's ship,” she answered.

  “So?”

  “I want it.”

  He frowned. Had grief driven her to madness? “That's insanity. They must have hundreds of soldiers aboard. You'd be negating the very advantage of a small ship like ours has.”

  “You told me to win. That's what I'm doing. I command you, Jack, and Viper to win me that ship!”

  “You'd have us kill more?”

  “That's Lord Theodore's Flaming ship,” she pleaded. “The symbol of Xenaria's naval might. It is the symbol that protects the Aegis Basin. We've ruined his fleet, Aaron. I have to have it. I'll use it to restore order on these seas and one day restore its purpose as a symbol.”

  Aaron pinched the top of his nose and closed his eyes. Even with an Artifact and his friends, they couldn't fight hundreds without tiring. Eksa had some sort of a relationship with Theodore of Xenaria that was damaging her so. “What if Lord Coraine is on that ship?” Saying the name aroused spite and returned tragic memories to him, making him grip his sword to quell his anger.

  “I hope he's not,” she said quietly. “But if he is, I hope he kills me and continues to retake Kovar.”

  Stupid girl. Aaron patted her head. “Don't say that. What kind of friend would I be if I let you die so easily?”

  She didn't react. She ordered the raising of sails once the caravel was next to the Xenarian flagship. Its wood was a darker shade of brown compared to the Reaver. The Xenarians had been too busy with their rescue efforts to move away in time. They fired their artillery in what appeared to be panic, bolts going wide by significant margins. The pirate crew threw hooked lines over the ledge of the warship and pulled to secure them. Eksa marched to the edge of her ship and drew her cutlass. “We're taking this ship as we've taken many others! Tonight, we will drink to victory at the bars you've all helped rebuild!”

  “Red Serpent! Red Serpent!” the pirates chanted.

  Aaron thought she might order the men to start climbing, but instead she put her weapon hilt in her mouth and was first on the ropes. He cursed under his breath. The girl really had a death wish. He pushed past others of the crew and began climbing right after her. Jackrin, masked, followed by another line.

  Once at the top, Aaron flung himself over the ledge. To his horror, Eksa ran straight into the enemy, clashing with a bearded man who towered over her. He blocked her attack with ease and shove her back. Eksa fell. No! The man prepared to thrust his blade through her. He wouldn't reach in time. There was a blur of motion followed by a clang of metals. Jack had thrown a knife and this large man had blocked it. Somehow.

  Aaron reached Eksa and hauled her back. “Get behind me!” he hissed. He drew Butter Knife and stared down the powerful soldier standing before him —a man standing a full head taller. Power coursed through Aaron's body. All around him, pirates came over the side and charged the line of enemy soldiers —of which there were less than expected.

  The large soldier rolled up his sleeves and took a stance. Aaron felt a searing flash of hate run across his thoughts. It was a stance he recognized. Martial arts of Xenaria's royal guard. Their fighting style was imprinted in his memory. More and more anger welled inside of him as he recalled their movements. His veins bulged with the power his Artifact was feeding him. A knight of Xenaria dared to challenge a royal like him rather than fighting for him. Curse you! Where were you when my mother was surrounded? Where were you when she needed you??

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  The knight charged. “What madness has driven children to piracy?” he asked.

  How dare he ask me that when it's his fault! Aaron couldn't see beyond his rage. His only thoughts were to kill this man and all those behind him. He met the knight's charge. “As if you'd ever understand!” he roared as their two blades met. Aaron's muscles vibrated upon impact. He grit his teeth. This man was strong. Strong enough to match an Artifact.

  Aaron swung relentlessly, but his speed was near matched. He barely had the upper hand in the exchange of blows. He mimicked his opponent's fighting style from what he recalled from memory, but his body, untrained as it was in sword arts, reacted slow even with magic running in his veins. The enemy managed to round to his side in a swift step. He bellowed and swung in a wide arc, both hands on the hilt. The attack was slow in coming. Aaron pivoted to parry, putting his free hand to the flat of his blade. He gasped upon impact, feeling all wind driven from him. White flashed before his eyes from the sheer strength of that attack. He staggered back and his arms slacked to his sides.

  When Aaron's vision had cleared, he saw the tip of his opponent's blade headed straight for his throat. His eyes went wide. Mother. Forgive me!

  “Aaron!” he heard Eksa cry. The poor girl.

  Aaron prepared himself for his inevitable end, but the longsword's tip veered a few inches wide. The soldier stumbled forward and dropped to a knee. Behind him, Viper disappeared into the shadows.

  Eksa was charging towards the knight with her sword held high, open mouth letting loose a scream. Her legs were kicked from below her and she fell upon the enemy. He tossed her aside and she rolled to Aaron's feet. He helped her up just as Viper appeared at his side. The sky was still grey, giving the Shadow Walker free reign.

  Their opponent took a stance again just as a bloodstained knife flew toward him. He ducked beneath it. His reflexes were sharp.

  Aaron stepped up. “You are a knight, yes?” he asked, wanting confirmation.

  The man furrowed his brows. Then said “Eildred Aegis. Captain of the Queen's Guard.”

  House Aegis. An impeccable bloodline sworn to protect Xenarian royalty. Queen's Guard, this bastard called himself. When Lera was dead. How dare he. Aaron sucked in a breath. His rage was immense. And then it was all gone, fed into his weapon. His limbs felt thick with power, and yet also lighter than they'd ever been. “Queen's Guard… How ironic,” he said. “You three stay out of this. He's mine.”

  Eildred narrowed his eyes. He spared less than a second to take in his surroundings. The pirates were winning. The knight knew this, yet not a hint of unease could be read from his face. “Boy, you can't beat me on your own,” he said, as if confident he'd win four on one despite the presence of a Shadow Walker being made known to him. As if confident that he alone could turn the tides of a losing battle.

  No. He can and he would, Aaron realized. Eildred had the impeccable qualities demanded of royal guards since House Zz'tai's time, but he fought for the wrong monarch. Aaron barked a laugh. “Is this what you call a knight's honor?”

  He exchanged the fury of an infinite furnace for strength untold from his Artifact. And then he charged, swinging wide with teeth bared. The blow was parried but Eildred staggered back. “Your honor died when my mother died!” Aaron roared. The blade was fed further. More strength coursed through him. His attacks grew faster and stronger, but Eildred held on, deflecting each one whilst stepping back. Aaron saw himself as an infant in his mother's arms. He saw her beautiful face stained with tears, her two arms outstretched as she pushed him away, arrows protruding from her back. His wrath was greater than what his weapon could consume all at once. “How about now, Sir Aegis? Am I worth fighting alone now?”

  The knight stepped inside Aaron's space. “No,” he said, grabbing Aaron by the head and slamming him to the ground.

  Aaron's vision blurred. The word 'no' echoed in his ears. He wasn't worth anything. He was useless to the point of earning disparaging treatment from a knight who should have served him. But of course I am. I was the one present. Not Eildred. Me. And I abandoned them. I left them all to die. He could barely make out the sounds of Jackrin's depraved cackling and Eksa's fury filled screams.

  It was me, Aaron thought. I'm the one at fault. His face twisted. My fault. But I'll be damned if I let a traitorous knight patronize me! He got up again and bent his knees, getting low. Eildred was fending off his friends, struggling to find an opening to attack just as much as they were struggling to get past his impenetrable defense. Aaron used his artificial strength to lunge a great distance with his sword hand stretched out. Eildred slipped past the thrust and twisted to deliver an elbow into Aaron's jaw. His world went dark again as he collapsed. Memories disappeared, and with it, his anger dimmed. The Artifact provided less power with reduced fuel.

  Aaron groaned. His fingers dragged upon the wood of the deck. He blinked repeatedly until he had a fogged vision of his surroundings. He pressed his knuckles to the floor and pushed himself upright. The clash of swords and Jack's unceasing laughter rung in his ears. Aaron slowly stood as his vision returned to normal. Eildred was on one knee. He ducked below Jack's fist and lunged, picking the jester up with ease and tossing him into Eksa to fell them both.

  Aaron shook his head and resumed a steady breathing pattern. He looked at the markings upon the hilt of Butter Knife and realized just how unreliable artificial power could be. Use what you know. Know what you use. A memory not his own. Eildred was standing to face him now, but unarmed, his longsword close to his feet.

  Aaron used what weakened magic power remained in him to throw his weapon at the knight. Eildred flinched and dodged despite the blade going wide anyway. Aaron used that opportunity to close the distance between them and delivered a sharp low kick —taught to him by his mother's murderer— to the wound on Eildred's thigh. The large man grunted and fell to one knee again. Still, his eyes held no inclination to admit defeat. Aaron looked down at the man as a master would a kneeling servant. “That's a more fitting position for you,” he said, forming a fist and putting his back into a right hook.

  The Queen's Guard captain fell flat on his face. But he didn't know defeat. For defeat to a royal knight was death, and death only. He roared and flailed his thick arms before quickly pushing himself upright. Aaron kicked him back down. Viper retrieved the single edged Artifact weapon and Aaron held its tip at Eildred's throat. “You've lost, Sir Aegis. Your honor is more dead than it had been before.” Aaron wanted this man to know humility. To admit defeat before the rightful ruler of Xenaria. Rightful ruler… When did I start thinking of myself as such?

  Eildred looked around at the carnage around him. Bodies of hewn pirates and soldiers lay about, staining The Salamander's deck. But the day went to the pirates, their numbers superior and all remaining soldiers surrendered with arms up in the air. They'd been pushed into a circle with the ship's sailors huddled behind them. Eildred's eyes fell before him. There was genuine defeat there. A sincere disappointment at his failure in completing a task undoubtedly handed to him by Xenaria's current queen. There was no other reason for the captain of the royal guard to be so far away from his duty to protect the crown.

  Aaron studied the man further. He'd learned so much of Eildred Aegis from a mere exchange of blades.

  “Bet Dhorjun and Crow are going to be real shocked when we bring back The Salamander of all ships,” Eksa said, breathing hard. She was putting up a false air of pride easily masked by a rush of adrenaline. But the distress in her expression was unmistakeable. Theodore Coraine wasn't on the ship.

  Aaron let his blade inch closer to Eildred's throat. The traitorous knight. He deserved death. The edge of the blade touched skin and bit in. And there it stopped. “No,” Aaron said before sighing. Eildred had only done what he thought right. What was right, in fact. He was only trying to liberate an island overrun by criminals. Aaron sheathed his weapon, its last vestiges of power draining out of his muscles. “We're leaving.”

  “What?!” Eksa's brows furrowed and half raised in disbelief. “Are you mad? We need this ship. I want this ship!” she said, shaking her fists and stomping on the deck.

  Aaron knew how much the flagship meant to her, but he couldn't let everyone aboard here die. And he knew Eksa didn't want that either. Her emotions would be a storm right now and a tantrum was the only way she was capable of expressing it, though unknowingly no doubt. “I said no!” Aaron insisted.

  “And what gives you the right? I'm the Flaming captain of the Reaver. We're taking this ship and that's final!” Eksa said. “We deserve a proper reward after all our victories today!”

  A sound argument, but Aaron was firm on his decision. A decision made through sheer hypocrisy. Alas. “Our victory over their entire fleet is reward enough!” he said.

  “Not hearing it. If you won't kill him, I will.” She marched towards Eildred with her cutlass in hand, eyes glimmering with tears on the verge of overflowing. She was lost. She didn't want to kill and would surely regret doing so. Aaron snapped his finger. Jack stepped in between her and the knight. “Move!” Eksa demanded. “Flaming move!” She shoved him as hard as she could, but the half-breed stood firm. The pirates began murmuring with confused frowns set upon their faces.

  “Eksa,” Aaron said calmly. “We're leaving. Let's go.”

  She screamed and stomped off, ordering a retreat and returning to The Scarlet Reaver via the secured lines. Every Xenarian breathed a sigh of relief once their enclosure was broken and the pirates had turned away.

  Eildred was slowly getting back to his feet. Aaron watched him carefully as he shifted his posture ever so subtly. His gaze flickered to his longsword lying a few feet away. His discipline and patience was something of an amusement, and something to be admired. “Why bother for a return attack if you aren't going to take the ship?” the knight finally asked.

  The grey stone sky cracked as if weathered by the storm it carried. Aaron turned to face the burning horizon revealed beneath it. “I don't know. I guess we were going to take the ship.”

  “And something changed your mind?”

  “I don’t know,” Aaron repeated. The sun sank further. But even half of it was enough to light the sky.

  Eildred was silent for a while. Then he asked “Why not just sink us then?”

  “We ran out of ammunition. Had you continued to chase us instead of calling for a retreat, you would have won, Sir Aegis.” He met Eildred's eyes. “Go home, Son of Xenaria.” Aaron began walking away.

  “Boy… Who are you really?”

  Aaron halted his steps and turned around. The guard captain stood up straight, eyes alight from the setting sun, bearded face glowing from the sweat caught within it. A proud man. Proud to serve someone he seemed to care about. As he should be. Aaron wanted to preserve this image. This blazing caricature of a royal guard. It was inspiring. “I am your king,” he said. A calming sea breeze nudged his clothes and hair. Aaron didn't know what led him to making that admission. But he'd made it. And it felt warm in his chest.