Aboard the Xandrian military ship, Bear and Elephant stood over the bandaged figure of Gingerbeard. The pirate captain lay on a straw bed, arms resting at his sides, his expression weary yet sharp.

  “These bandages feel a little… loose,” Gingerbeard muttered, shifting slightly.

  Bear folded his arms. “We don’t have a doctor on board. We make do with what we have.”

  Gingerbeard blinked. “Why would you travel so far without a healer?”

  Bear looked away. “It’s a long story.”

  Elephant turned to him. “Bear, aren’t you supposed to be the one asking questions?”

  Bear sighed, gazing at the ceiling. “I’m trying your method—building trust, making the other guy talk more.”

  Elephant chuckled. “You’re learning well.”

  Bear turned back to Gingerbeard, his tone shifting. “You should be grateful for my friend here.” He nodded toward Elephant. “Without him, you and the rest of your crew wouldn’t have made it out alive. There’s a reason most nations don’t take prisoners.”

  Gingerbeard exhaled. “Aye… The experience points.”

  Bear gave a slight nod, impressed the pirate understood. “So—who are you? Why did you turn to piracy? Who’s the girl? And who’s the pirate with the spider tattoo?”

  Elephant crossed his arms. “Brother, maybe ask one question at a time?”

  Gingerbeard let out a breath. “I think I can manage.” He glanced over his shoulder at the little girl sitting nearby, scribbling on a sheet of paper given to her by the Xandrian soldiers. His expression softened.

  “She’s my daughter, Ginny.”

  He paused before continuing. “I grew up in a fishing village. A lot of the men you fought today were from the same place. My father was a fisherman. His father before him. The days were slow, but honest. There was an old saying: ‘Our village may be poor, but the ocean is rich.’ And for a time, we thrived.

  “But living by the sea means accepting its dangers.” His voice grew heavier. “One day, everything changed. A ship from Zairule docked in our harbor. They were recruiting young men.”

  He exhaled slowly. “My wife… she died in childbirth. But she held Ginny before she passed. Named her with her last breath.” His gaze flickered toward his daughter again before he continued.

  “The Zairulian navy promised compensation to those who joined their ranks. Many of us signed up. Some refused. I was one of the ones who wanted no part of it.” His jaw tightened. “Then they made a different offer. They’d give us a ship, weapons. In return, we were to intercept any Xandrian vessel we came across.”

  Bear frowned. “Why Xandria? We haven’t warred with Zairule in years.”

  Gingerbeard gave a grim nod. “Aye. But there was something Zairule desperately wanted.” He hesitated before murmuring, “The Holy Crystal.”

  Both Xargian guards tensed.

  “We were fools,” Gingerbeard admitted, his voice thick with regret. “We thought we could take their offer. Recieving a ship and weapons—use them to fish further out to sea and ignore their orders. But…”

  Elephant finished the thought for him. “But the Zairulians wanted their money’s worth.”

  Gingerbeard nodded. “Aye. They made sure we followed through. Two years ago, they assigned a soldier to keep us in line.”

  He looked up, eyes dark with meaning.

  “His name was Zaun.”

  Bear’s brow furrowed. “Zaun? The pirate with the spider tattoo? He’s from Zairule?”

  Gingerbeard took a slow breath before revealing the truth. “Zaun isn’t just any pirate. He’s a member of the Spider Fang—an assassin. But that’s not all…” He exhaled. “He’s from Zairule’s royal bloodline.”

  Bear and Elephant spoke in unison. “What?!”

  Gingerbeard gave a tired nod. “There’s bad blood between them. I don’t know the full story, but the royal family forced him into the Spider Fang. He’s been killing for them ever since.”

  Bear narrowed his eyes. “How do you know this?”

  Gingerbeard smirked faintly. “Men talk too much when they drink. And on this island where you caught us, there wasn’t much else to do.” He paused, then asked, “By the way, how did you even find our hideout?”

  Bear crossed his arms. “That’s a secret.”

  Elephant added, “Consider it proof of Xandrian intelligence’s reach.”

  Gingerbeard glanced at the ceiling, then at his daughter, his expression troubled. “What’s going to happen to her?”

  Bear exhaled. “That depends on her skill.” His tone was firm, yet not unkind. “If she has a useful one, she could join the army. If not, she’ll be placed in an orphanage.” He studied the pirate. “Do you know what her skill is?”

  Gingerbeard shook his head. “I don’t even know my own.”

  Elephant leaned in. “You said Zairule wanted the Holy Crystal. Do you know why?”

  The pirate shook his head again. “Nay.”

  Bear stood. “Elephant, we need to step out and talk.”

  Elephant nodded, then glanced at the little girl, who was lost in her own world. She tore the paper she had been drawing on and held it up to her father.

  “Daddy, look! I drew us!”

  The sketch was rough—just two figures, one large and one small—but it was clear she had put her heart into it.

  Gingerbeard’s lips curled into a small smile. “Aye, my love, ‘tis a wonderful drawing.”

  The girl beamed. “You can keep it! It’ll help you feel better!”

  Bear stepped out, but Elephant lingered for a moment.

  “Gingerbeard,” he said, his voice serious, “do you swear to give up piracy?”

  The pirate looked at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion. “Aye. I swear it.”

  Elephant nodded, then turned to leave. “I’ll have someone bring you food soon.”

  He stepped outside and shut the door behind him. Two soldiers immediately took position, guarding the entrance.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Bear stood at the edge of the ship, arms resting on the wooden railing as the gentle waves lapped against the hull. Elephant walked up beside him.

  “Elephant,” Bear murmured, exhaling deeply, “what could I have done differently?”

  Elephant leaned against the railing, studying his friend. “In what way?”

  Bear stared into the distance. “Everything.”

  Elephant sighed, ready to offer words of reassurance—but Bear spoke first.

  “I fear what our leader will say when we return.”

  As if summoned by those very words, a voice rang out behind them.

  “Brother Bear.”

  They turned to see Dragon, the leader of the Xargian Guard, approaching. Her voice was soft, but carried undeniable authority.

  “I could tell you there’s always tomorrow,” she said, raising a hand. “But what we need tonight is something else entirely.”

  With a wide grin, she lifted two bottles of liquor into the air.

  “Tonight, we drink!” she declared, her voice ringing out with a jubilant “WOOHOO!”

  Bear exhaled, running a hand over his helmet. “For a moment… I really thought you were her.”

  From behind, Jackal’s voice cut through the air. “So this is where you’ve been, Chameleon!”

  He smacked the back of Chameleon’s head, forcing his disguise as Dragon to dissolve.

  Chameleon huffed. “I’m sure our leader would’ve said something similar!”

  Jackal let out a sigh so deep and dramatic that the nearby Xandrian soldiers paused what they were doing just to glance in his direction. Elephant chuckled.

  “Not a bad idea, though,” Elephant said. “The drinks, I mean.”

  Bear nodded. “Let’s go to my chambers.”

  “Aye aye, Captain!” Chameleon struck a stiff, exaggerated salute like a statue.

  Jackal smacked him again.

  “WHAT WAS THAT FOR?! I WASN’T EVEN TRANSFORMED!”

  Jackal shrugged. “I saw into the future that you deserved it.”

  Chameleon clenched his fist. “You only see one second into the future, that’s not—”

  Jackal immediately copied his words in perfect sync, mimicking his tone.

  “—enough time to make the—wait a minute… stop it… STOP REPEATING WHAT I’M SAYING!”

  Bear, Elephant, and Jackal burst into laughter, jabbing at the sides of Chameleon’s armor like teasing brothers.

  “Follow me,” Bear said, still chuckling.

  The group crossed the wooden deck and disappeared into the captain’s quarters, locking the door behind them.

  Inside, they covered the windows, allowing only the flickering candlelight to illuminate the room.

  Elephant unclasped his helmet first, setting it down with a quiet clink. Then Chameleon, who ran a hand through his unruly green hair. “Finally. Feels nice to take it off.”

  Jackal removed his helmet next, revealing amber eyes and wavy, light brown hair neatly combed to one side. He sighed. “For once, I agree with you, Chameleon.”

  Then it was Bear’s turn. He lifted his helmet, revealing short, thick, dark spikes of hair. He exhaled deeply.

  “Goblets,” he muttered to himself.

  He reached into a drawer, pulling out four goblets and setting them on the table.

  Chameleon leaned forward. “How many did you get, Elephant?”

  “Five,” Elephant replied.

  Chameleon smirked. “Then you pour the first round. Then Jackal, then me, and finally Bear.”

  No one objected. They didn’t need to.

  Bear picked up his goblet, his voice heavy with unspoken sorrow.

  “One drink for every brother and sister.”

  No one said a word. Silent agreement.

  Elephant poured the first round, his voice steady yet heavy.

  “For Hyena.”

  They raised their goblets, the metal ringing as they clinked together. Then, in unison, they drank.

  Elephant passed the bottle to Jackal.

  “For Shark,” Jackal said, pouring into each goblet.

  “To the brim,” Chameleon added. “That’s how he would’ve wanted it.”

  Jackal gave a small nod and filled each glass to the edge. Once again, they raised their drinks, clinked, and swallowed the burning liquor.

  Chameleon took the bottle next. “For Crocodile.”

  The group drank in silence.

  Then it was Bear’s turn. He exhaled, his chest rising and falling with quiet grief.

  “For Vulture.”

  They clinked their goblets one more time, drinking for every fallen brother and sister of the Xargian Guard.

  Twelve had embarked on this journey.

  Only four remained.

  Chameleon hesitated, then asked, “Shall we drink for Wolf as well?”

  “He’s not dead,” he added, “but still…”

  Elephant considered it for a moment before nodding. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

  He grabbed the bottle and filled their goblets once again.

  “For Wolf.”

  One last clink. One last drink.

  The night deepened, the weight of exhaustion settling over them. One by one, the Xargian guards drifted into sleep.

  But not Elephant.

  Unlike his brothers and sisters, his body could handle far more drink, and his mind was far from resting. He secured his helmet back onto his head, stood, and quietly stepped outside, closing the door behind him. Two soldiers took their positions, standing guard.

  On the deck, Rose stood watch, her posture rigid but not tense. She turned as he approached.

  “Sir Elephant,” she greeted.

  “Soldier,” he replied with a nod.

  She hesitated. There was something on her mind.

  Summoning her courage, she finally spoke. “Sir Elephant, may I ask you something?”

  Elephant gave a slight nod.

  She took a breath. “When that pirate used his skill on me… it reminded me of someone from a long time ago.” She hesitated, then removed her helmet, letting long pink hair tumble freely down her back. “Do you know anyone in the Xargian Guard who has hair like mine?”

  Elephant sighed. “I can’t speak about my brothers or sisters in the Guard. That’s a state secret.”

  Rose lowered her head, disappointment washing over her. “I know. I’m sorry, but please…”

  Elephant exhaled, turned, and continued walking.

  Then, without looking back, he spoke.

  “But if there was someone like that… I’m sure they’re fine.”

  Rose’s head snapped up, her lips parting slightly in surprise. Then, a small smile.

  “Thank you, Sir Elephant.”

  But the large soldier didn’t respond.

  He pressed on toward the quarterback, gathering supplies—food, water, clothing, and anything else that might prove useful for a journey. He packed the bags methodically, tossing them into a lifeboat before making his way to the back of the ship.

  There, he stood.

  Waiting.

  And waiting.

  And then—

  A bird streaked through the night sky, its wings humming with electricity.

  Elephant extended his arm. The creature landed gracefully in his outstretched hand.

  Inside his mind, Niles’s voice rang clear.

  "YOU DID WHAT?!? YOU SENT PIRATES HERE?! AND NOW YOU WANT TO SEND GINGERBEARD AND HIS KID TOO?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, YOU CRAZY MAMMAL?! DO I LOOK LIKE AUSTRALIA TO YOU?! P.S. Thanks for the gold, but THERE’S NO SHOPPING MALL ANYWHERE! P.P.S Wolf says that he loves being here HAHAHA! NO WOLF! GO AWAY! GROWN UPS ARE TALKING NOW! DON’T INTERRU—"

  Elephant sighed, he removed his helmet so he could begin rubbing his temple. “That man should’ve figured out by now that we don’t know anything about his homeworld…”

  From a pouch inside his armor, he pulled out a grilled fish and handed it to Squeaky, who eagerly gulped it down.

  “Squeaky,” Elephant said, his tone firm but quiet, “deliver this message to Niles when you find him: We gave the pirates false coordinates, and Squeaky even flew in a way to mislead them. As for Gingerbeard and his child… please, do this for me as a favor. I don’t want to make any more children cry. And tell Wolf that we drank for his well-being.”

  He paused, then added, “Also… I’ve never heard of this ‘Australia’ before. I wish you good health, Sir Niles.”

  Squeaky chirped in acknowledgment, the message safely stored.

  “Alright, Squeaky,” Elephant murmured, exhaling. “Now, for the next task…” He hesitated, then muttered under his breath, “Maybe Bear’s right. Maybe I have gone too soft.”

  The small bird hopped onto Elephant’s broad shoulder as he turned toward the prison cell below deck. The two stationed guards straightened at his approach.

  “Take a break,” he ordered.

  The soldiers exchanged glances but nodded, stepping aside. Elephant pushed the heavy door open and entered.

  Inside, Gingerbeard and his daughter, Ginny, were fast asleep.

  Elephant crouched beside the pirate and gently shook his shoulder. Gingerbeard stirred, eyes groggy with exhaustion as he blinked up at the Xargian guard in confusion.

  Elephant kept his voice low but urgent. “I’ve prepared a boat for you and your child. Take it. Follow this bird—it will guide you to safety. And… make sure to feed it some fish.”

  Gingerbeard, still half-asleep, processed the words slowly, then gave a drowsy nod. He wrapped Ginny securely in a blanket, cradling her as she continued to sleep soundly.

  Elephant led them quietly through the dimly lit corridors of the ship.

  At the lifeboat, Gingerbeard climbed in first, and Elephant carefully placed Ginny into his arms.

  The pirate looked up at him, voice barely above a whisper.

  “…Thank you.”

  A flicker of movement caught Elephant’s eye—a soldier approaching, a torch in hand, its flame crackling against the stillness of the night.

  For a tense second, Elephant held his breath.

  Then, the soldier stopped, observing the scene before them. Without a word, they extinguished the torch. The glow vanished, leaving only the night and the quiet lapping of the sea.

  “Beautiful night,” the soldier said, her voice warm.

  From her pocket, she pulled out something small—a stuffed animal, its seams freshly stitched.

  “Good as new,” she murmured.

  Elephant exhaled, “Rose”.

  She tossed the patched-up toy into the boat, giving a small smile before turning on her heel and resuming her night patrol.

  Elephant let out a slow breath of relief, then tugged the boat’s rope, lowering it gently into the water. The splash was barely noticeable over the rolling waves.

  Gingerbeard adjusted his grip on the oars, casting one last glance up at the ship before rowing away, guided by the direction Squeaky pointed with its wing.

  Soon, the dark night swallowed them whole.

  Elephant stood there for a moment, watching the ripples fade into the vastness of the sea.

  Then, without a word, he turned and made his way back to his own chambers, disappearing into the quiet of the ship’s interior.