19 April 2024

“I don’t understand,” Elliott pouted. “You’re a pirate, aren't you? Why are you risking so much to help me set up this resistance?”

For a long time, Moira didn’t answer. Then she asked, “How many people do you think are willing to challenge the Pirate King face to face? To all but demand something from him when they do?”

Elliott blinked. “That sounds like suicide.”

“Right?” Moira turned to watch Charles, who was struggling to climb up the rigging after Arylwen. “And yet that boy did just that. In the King’s own throne room, even.” She chuckled. “Oh, he was polite about it. Said ‘please’ and everything. But even then, and even trembling with fear, he showed more spine than men three times his size.”

“That’s it?”

“What other reason would I need? It’s why I joined up with Jasper in the first place, after all.” She dipped her head in Charles’ direction. “Mark my words; that boy will be a king someday.”

Elliott’s stomach twisted, and it took effort to keep his face passive. “And me?”

Moira raised an eyebrow, then smirked at him. “We’ll make something of you yet, little princeling.”

17 April 2024

I was quite proud of this one. The mother and love stanzas need work still, I think, but overall I like how it turned out. Especially since every character listed, except (maybe) Elliott, is or becomes a dragon by the end of the series. For context, stanzas 1 and 2 are book 1; 3, 4, and 5 are book 2; and the last is book 3, which has a lot more focus on Arylwen and less on Charles, so that makes sense.

I actually started this by trying to see how few words I could use to “tell” the Majesty story. I wasn’t happy with that, and wound up here instead.

There stands a boy

Trembling in fear at the feet of the Pirate’s throne

Yet does not yield

And the Pirate hails him, King

There stands a boy

Looking into the face of an old, tired Mountain

And offers hope

And the Mountain hails him, King

There kneels a youth

His surrogate Mother fading fast

He, helpless, weeps

And the Mother hails him, King

There kneels a youth

A ring offered to the Love of his life

Promise ensured

And his Love hails him, King

There stands a man

Confronting she who has conquered the world

At last, triumph

And the Conqueror hails him, King

There stands a man

Betrayed by one who was once his dearest Friend

Together in death

Only then does the Friend hail him, King

27 March 2024 part 2

This is a little tidbit from what I plan to be the second book in the Majesty trilogy. I want to have a lot of foreshadowing, so it feels believable when Elliott becomes the villain of book 3 (spoilers, sorry).

Elliott watched as the officers clapped his friend on the back. Everyone seemed to be celebrating. And why wouldn’t they? With Charles’ transformation, they had another dragon on their side; they actually had a chance, now. Not that Charles seemed comfortable with the attention. 

Despite all that, Elliott couldn’t bring himself to join them. He couldn’t feel happy about Charles’ success, and he didn’t have the energy to fake it. As he stalked off to his [chambers/tent], he kept circling back to one thought.

Why wasn’t it him? He was the prince, wasn’t he?

5 June 2023

It’s been a long time since I wrote this. I’ve been struggling with Majesty a lot, actually; not really satisfied with the opening scenes I have (with a couple exceptions), and I’m not really sure where I’m going with it, either. In particular, I don’t think this is how Moira gets introduced, or how the Pirate King handles this situation. Might have to let it stew in my brain a while longer…

…eyeing various crew members.

Then a fairly tall woman from the pirate ship strode over. “Alright, Jasper, that’s enough of that.” She had dark brown, nearly black hair cut roughly to jaw length, and wore a vest over a sleeveless shirt. Her pants went down to mid-calf.

The King chuckled, then eyed the woman. “You hae something to say?”

An easy smile fell on the woman’s face, and she leaned back against the ship railing. “This is a pretty nice ship. Don’t you think?”

“Eh. The big ol’ hole in the side dampers that a bit.”

“True. A bit of a shame, that.” She pushed off and began pacing around. “Do you have any plans for it?”

Charles and Elliott could only watch the exchange slack-jawed. Who was this woman, and how could she banter so easily with the Pirate King of all people?

For his part, the King just scratched at his cheek. “Dunno yet. Doesn’t seem to be much worth keeping.” Then he paused, and looked right at Elliott. A feral grin broke out across his face. “Well, well. What have we here?”

Elliott pinched Charles, who’d been about to answer. Instead, Elliott said, “Alan, sir. ‘Prentice carpenter. And this is my friend, Charles.”

The King raised an eyebrow. “That so? Say, Alan. Don’t suppose you’ve heard the little rumor that your prince is still alive, have you?”

Elliott started… [9 May 2023]

…think of that?”

“You know, boy,” the woman added, before Elliott could answer. She wasn’t looking at them. “If you’re going to try to hide your identity, you ought to at least make it believable. Your accent’s all wrong for a lowborn apprentice, and even from here I can see your hands are too soft for carpentry work.”

Elliott’s face paled, and he looked up at the Pirate King. The King reached out to grab him, but Charles couldn’t just watch any longer… [9 May 2023]

…decided to remain very still.

“If you’re finished deciding what you want,” the woman cut in, “how would you feel about handing the ship over to me? Complete with crew and passengers.”

Everyone around inhaled sharply. Once again, who was this woman, that she could talk to the Pirate King as an equal? And what would she do once she got them?

The King just raised an eyebrow. “Hardly seems worth the effort. I was thinking I’d just scuttle it and be done with it.”

Cries of alarm came from many of the crew, including Jakob, but neither of them paid attention to any of that. The woman smiled. “Then it won’t matter if I take them, will it? Consider this repayment on that debt.”

The King scowled, but thought for a moment. “And after this, we’re clear?”

“One hundred percent.”

He glanced at Elliott. “I’m still taking the kid.”

The woman shrugged. “What use do I have for a prince?”

That elicited another round of protests, which got no more of a reaction than the last. The King grinned and extended a hand. “Shake on it.”

They did, and the King immediately ordered some of his crew to begin repairing the ship. He grabbed Elliott by the collar and dragged him off. The wyvern sitting on Charles waited until they were aboard the Fortune’s Blessing before it hopped off and scurried after its master.

9 May 2023

Honestly, a great deal of this section of Majesty just didn’t land quite right with me. That’s not why I took such a long break—we can blame Tears of the Kingdom and other video games for that—but I don’t think it helped that I knew something was off, and I didn’t know what to do about it. In particular, it’s not like there’s anything inherently wrong with this section, or with the alternate version of it I wrote in June and July. It just…wasn’t right for the story or the characters. I think I’ve pinned down a solution, but I’ve been writing other things this past week, so I haven’t actualized any of that.

…Jakob’s story. In the meantime, he prowled around the deck, eying the various crew members. When he noticed Charles and Elliott, he paused. “What’s your name, boy?”

Was the King talking to him? Charles opened his mouth to speak, but Elliott spoke up first. “Alan, sir. Carpenter’s apprentice. And this is my friend, Charles.”

The Pirate King raised an eyebrow, and looked the two boys up and down. “That’s interesting. Say, Alan, had you heard that your prince is still alive?”

Elliott started. He shook his head, trying to do his best to recover. The King nodded to himself. “Yeah. The Conqueror announced she’d killed off Averny’s king and queen, but that the princeling had scurried off like a cowardly rat. What do you think of that?”

Charles’ eyes went wide and he spun to look at Elliott. For his part, though, Elliott kept his face impassive as he shrugged. “That’s… good, I suppose? Assuming he wasn’t on the Siren’s Lament.”

The wyvern on the King’s shoulders chirped, and the King snatched Elliott’s arm, bringing his hand up to inspect, making Elliott gasp. “You know, Alan, for a carpenter’s apprentice, your hands are awfully soft, wouldn’t you say?”

Elliott struggled to free his hand from the Pirate King’s grasp, but to no avail. The King pulled him forward until his nose was almost touching Elliott’s. “Last chance, princeling. Who are you really?”

Charles couldn’t just watch any longer. He bit his lower lip, then tried to tackle the King. The pirate dodged, but he was distracted enough that Elliot was finally able to pull free. The wyvern jumped off the King’s shoulders and bowled into Charles’ stomach. It glared up at Charles, snapping at the boy’s nose, and Charles decided to remain very still.

Elliot pulled himself up as tall as he could. “You are right; forgive me for lying. I am Prince Elliott.”

There was a great deal of muttering from the crew, but the Pirate King ignored all that. His men came back from below decks, and one whispered in his ear. He nodded, and stepped toward Elliott with a feral grin. “Tell you what, princeling. Now that we’re being honest, how about a deal? You come with us, and I spare all those refugees downstairs. By Fortune’s breath, I’ll even repair the ship, keep ‘em from starving to death. What do you say?”

Elliott bit his lower lip. “And what do you intend with me?”

Jasper shrugged and paced behind Elliott. “Dunno. Might sell you; could get a lot for a fallen prince. Might try to strike a deal with the Conqueror, see what you’re worth to her.” Then he leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Or I might get bored and just decide to kill you one day. Just for the fun of it.” He pulled back and watched the boy. “So what will it be?”

Elliott glared up at him. “You swear that the people on this ship will not be harmed?”

“I swear it.”

He debated only a moment longer. “Make sure they have enough food to get them to the nearest port, and we have a deal.”

Charles cried out, but both Elliott and the King ignored him. “Do you really think you’re in a position to negotiate?” the King asked.

Elliott said nothing. Finally, the King flashed a grin. “Well, you’ve got more guts than some of the royals I met. Alright. Deal.” Then he grabbed Elliott by the scruff of his coat and dragged him off. “Get this ship repaired pronto!”

Charles watched, tears in his eyes, as Elliott was dragged aboard the Fortune’s Blessing. Even after the wyvern flapped back to the King’s shoulder, all he could do was lie there and weep.

5 May 2023

Well, I have more of a backlog built up than expected, considering how much time I wasted this summer, so for a while, at least, I’ll be double-posting again. It’s also been long enough that many of my thoughts on what I’ve written have gone fuzzy, especially for today’s posts, which I actually typed in months ago and just never posted on here.

I do know that I feel the crew’s reactions are way too muted for their circumstances; they should be pissed off, and even if they can’t really act on that anger directly, it should still express itself in some way. Wouldn’t surprise me if Jasper even revels in such things.

While Jakob surveyed the damage, Charles and Elliott headed above deck to see what was going on. The whole crew were dispirited; some were shaking with fear, while others just shook their head and looked at the Siren’s Lament with pity.

Their sister ship had already pulled a league or two ahead of them, and the pirate ship had drawn close enough Charles could make out the faces of individual pirates.

And just like Jakob had said, none of them gave the Dragon’s Flight more than a passing glance. All of their focus was on the Siren’s Lament. Charles noticed a man with sandy blonde hair, perhaps in his mid-20s, standing at the helm. He wore a bright scarlet coat with the sleeves rolled back to the elbows, and a green wyvern draped itself around his shoulders.

The man in the scarlet coat gave an order, and their cannons thundered. One of the masts on the Siren’s Lament cracked and fell, and it stopped dead in the water. They raised a white flag, but the pirates didn’t care. The man barked the order again, and another volley of cannon fire tore into the hapless ship.

The passengers and crew of the Siren’s Lament panicked. Some tried to prepare longboats, while others jumped straight into the ocean, trying to put as much distance as the could between them and the doomed ship. All the while, the pirates unloaded volley after volley, and did not stop until the ship had finished sinking.

Charles couldn’t pull his eyes away. His entire body shook, and nothing he did could make it stop. Next to him, Elliott bent over the railing and threw up. When he finally stopped, his face was pale and sweaty. He and Charles shared a look, and quietly collapsed onto the deck.

Soon, the pirate ship pulled back alongside them and prepared to board. Charles finally saw its name; the Fortune’s Blessing. He looked again at the remains of the Siren’s Lament and shuddered.

Jakob came back above deck right as the pirates began to board. The man in the scarlet coat was one of the first to arrive, and Charles noted he had an earring in one ear, a fang of some kind. He looked around, then demanded, “Who among you is captain?”

Jakob stepped forward, arms folded across his chest. “Aye, that’d be me. What can I do for you?”

For several long, intense moments, the man stared at Jakob. There was a sharp glint in his eyes, and Charles was sure Jakob was about to die. Then he smiled, which was quite unnerving, and offered a handshake. “Jasper. King of the Pirates.”

Jakob hesitated only a split second before he took the pirate’s hand in his. “Jakob.”

The Pirate King shook once and let go. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be helping myself to the contents of your hold. That alright?”

With a snort, Jakob answered, “Couldn’t stop you if I tried. Not with my ship in this state. Still, don’t tink you’ll find much. Got caught up in that mess back in Averny; with all the refugees, didn’t have much space for cargo.”

The King’s eyebrows rose, and his smile widened. He nodded at a couple of his crew, who headed belowdecks, probably to verify Jakob’s story.

28 April 2023

I really hate our internet.

I really liked this scene, though. Even if the presentation is different, this scene comes directly from the dream that started this whole story. Well, that and specifically when the second ship is actually blown out of the water. The name of the second ship is probably going to change; I’m pretty sure its current name is the title of a comic on Webtoons I saw and read a bit of, though I’m not sure. If not, I might just keep it. Also, I figure they wouldn’t necessarily have the same motifs for their version of the Jolly Roger; I’ll have to figure out what I want to use instead and how to communicate that.

I am also considering, almost certain, that rather than send the boys to Moira’s ship, Jasper gives Moira and Arylwen this ship. Dunno if it got it’s current name [the Dragon’s Flight] before or after they took over, though, so it might change in this scene still.

There was a shout from the crow’s nest, and old Jacob’s face turned pale. He pulled out a spyglass and looked off to the horizon.

“What is it?” Charles asked. “What do you see?” He squinted, as if that would help him see farther.

“Pirates,” Jacob whispered. “And not just any pirates. It’s the bloody Pirate King himself!” He spun and barked a furious string of commands, eyes focused as he strode the length of the ship. Charles couldn’t understand more than half of them, but the crew scurried about, racing to keep their ship moving as fast as possible.

At a gesture from Jacob, they signalled their sister ship, the [Siren’s Lament], and even from here Charles could see how their crew, too, burst into a frenzy of action.

“I-is the Pirate King really that scary?” Charles asked. “Scarier than the Dark Conqueror?”

“I don’t know about that, but he’s terrifying enough. Unpredictable.” Jacob set his mouth to a grim line. “Run along down with the other refugees, lad. Leave this to us.”

Charles wanted to protest, but Jacob looked as serious as Charles had ever seen him. Reluctantly, he headed below decks. Almost immediately, Elliott came over and started interrogating him. “We can hear the crew up there, busy as bees. What’s going on?”

“Pirates,” Charles said simply. “Jacob said it was their king.”

There were more than a few gasps and sobs from the other refugees. One even fainted on the spot.

Elliott’s own face soured, and strode to the stern, Charles on his heels. Soon enough, he’d found a porthole and smooshed his face up into it. Charles squeezed in next to him.

By now, the pirates’ ship was clearly visible, even with the naked eye, including the flag featuring [a dragon’s wings]. Combined with the black sails and all the cannons, the ship looked very intimidating.

Over the next hour or two, the boys took turn watching the pirate ship creep closer and closer. It wasn’t until then they heard the distant roar of cannonfire, followed by a column of water bursting upwards just a hundred or so yards behind them. There were a couple more shots, as both they and the [Siren’s Lament] returned fire, but they were still too distant yet to do more than try to warn them off.

But one didn’t earn a moniker like “King of the pirates” by backing down from a fight. The pirate ship continued closing in, and soon enough they were exchanging fire with both refugee ships. 

Then, there was a pause from the cannons on the [Siren’s Lament]. Worried they’d been hit, Charles darted over to a portside porthole, and saw that no, the other ship was fine. They had just been turning their cannons…

Which were now aimed directly at the Dragon’s Flight.

Charles could only stare mutely as their sister ship prepared to fire on them. Elliott barely had time to pull him down before cannonballs tore into the ship, leaving them crippled in the water.

Only a moment later, Jacob stomped down the steps to survey the damage. “Tend to the wounded,” he ordered the refugees, “and stop up the holes as best you can. Ship’s carpenter’ll be along when he can.”

From there, he headed over where Elliott was stilling covering for Charles. “You alright, Your Highness?”

Elliott shrugged and sat up. Charles looked up at Jacob. “Why? Why would they do that?”

“Because they’re damn fools, that’s why,” Jacob spat.

“They thought, since the pirate ship had us outgunned and outmaneuvered, only one of us would escape. Then they wanted to make sure it would be them, am I right?” Elliott’s voice carried more than a trace of bitterness.

“Like as not. That was a mistake; must not have heard much about the latest King o’ Pirates. May the Goddess have mercy on their souls.” He saw the confusion in the boys’ faces, so he explained, “This King might be unpredictable, but if there’s one thing he hates, it’s cowards. And what’s more cowardly than shooting an ally in the back so you can escape yourself? He’ll sink ‘em without question.”

5 February 2023

I really enjoy writing these character interviews. I might have to write a book solely using them to tease out the story. Maybe later.

One thing I’m most worried about is how many of the posts recently paint Arylwen in a very negative light. That’s not too bad; she’s certainly flawed, and that’s part of her character arc. But she needs to have redeeming qualities, as well. I need it to be easy for the audience to forgive her for her faults, at least after she’s outgrown them. And in the current incarnation of the story, it seems like Bethany gets the worst of those faults. I will have to tinker with that a bit.

Getting to know Bethany was very fun, though. The girl needs hugs. She’s better than she thinks she is. Which, as I understand it, is almost as common a failing as assuming you are more amazing than you actually are.

I choose to meet Bethany in a garden. There’s a tea table set up in the middle, complete with an array of cakes and things. I give it a critical look. Am I being too easily influenced by common stereotypes? How might I avoid making bethany feel like a cookie-cutter “helpless princess” character? I snap my fingers, and the platter is reduced to a single slice of cake a piece.

Bethany comes out a moment later, in a very fine green dress. I stand and tip my head. As she approaches, I step around the table and pull out her chair, and wait for her to sit down before I return to my own seat.

She studies me a moment. “Are you being gentle with me, monsieur?”

“Perhaps. More than I would with some characters. Don’t read too much into it, though; I simply have not gotten the full measure of your character yet, that’s all.”

Her expression sours, and she opens her mouth to ask a question, perhaps about Arylwen and how I’d handle her. But in the end, she says nothing; it seems Bethany doesn’t have the full measure of my character, either.

I pull out a notebook and flip open to a clean page, pen at the ready. “You are closely acquainted with several notable individuals. Prince Elliott, the young dragon Arylwen… Even Charles is gaining quite the reputation as a hero.” As soon as I mention Charles, a blush creeps onto Bethany’s cheeks, but she stoically pretends not to notice. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to meet and develop a relationship with them?”

She takes a moment to reflect, and a soft smile slowly eases onto her features. “It would have been nearly ten years ago. Miss Moira came to my father about something–I would later learn it was this very resistance–and she brought them with her. Not that either my father nor I realized who Miss Moira was at the time.”

I decide not to mention that I still don’t know who Moira is. Or was, rather, before her “ascension” to dragonhood. …I need to figure out what terms people in-universe use for that phenomenon.

I prompt her to continue, and she says, “Elliott was quiet. Brooding. It made him seem handsome, in an unapproachable sort of way, but he scared me, too. Arylwen…” Bethany’s face fell, and she drew into herself. “She took one look at me, my dress and my shoes, and stalked off with a snort.”

It takes a moment for her to compose herself. No tears fall, and I’m not sure the glint I catch at the corner of her eye is even real, but it’s clear there are scars there. Then she takes a deep breath, and looks me in the eye.

“But Charles… Charles was different. He greeted me warmly that first day, and even after that, he would always notice me and drag me over to join them on their adventures. Oftentimes, Arylwen would get mad at him or say something mean to me, and they’d fight, and Elliott would have to step in and break them u.” She chuckled. “One time, Arylwen called me a pig. I think at the time, she felt that way about anyone who was rich, but it hurt, and I started crying. Charles got so mad he kicked her right in the shins. It didn’t matter that she was a dragon, or that he liked her.”

Then her smile faded, and she looked down into her lap. “I guess not much about Charles has really changed, has it? He’s still a hero, still kind to everyone, and I… I’m just a silly girl with a silly crush.”

I frown and look up from my notebook. “It is not silly.”

Bethany looks up at me, eyes wide. I sigh. “Even if it doesn’t pan out. Even if you know he and Arylwen get together, and then you watch it happen. Those feelings helped you get here, today, no matter how timid you think you are.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I hold up my hand. “Tell me, Bethany. Would a coward have been willing to slap a dragon across the face?”

Bethany has no response to that. I continue, “And do you think there is any dragon–especially Arylwen–that would just let that go? And yet here you are.”

“But that’s different. She and I are… Well, we, we know each other, and–”

“Do you know what makes Charles a hero? WHat it is that makes him brave?”

Bethany pauses, unsure what to say. I’m sure numerous ideas come up about why he’s a hero to her, but she just shakes her head.

“For me, at least, it is because even when he’s terrified, even when he thinks he’ll fail, he does it anyway. That’s how I found him, you know. As a little boy, scared stiff, certain he was going to be killed as he stood before the Pirate King. And yet, he went anyway, for Elliott’s sake.” A half smile falls to my lips. “Now, does that remind you of anyone?”

As I watch her expression, I can tell Bethany wants to protest. But she can’t find the words, as she chews on what I’ve said. I don’t know if she can accept it yet–I’m not sure she ever will–but at least she’s thinking about it.

“I wish,” I say, after some time, “that I could promise you a happily ever after. That Charles will see everything you’ve done, change his mind, and sweep you off your feet. But you and I both know that would be a lie.” I smile apologetically. “In fact, I know a bit too much, and you’ve certainly got your share of pain and heartache ahead. But there is joy, too. And the friendship you’ve developed with Charles and Arylwen is always going to be something you can fall back on.”

The tears do come, this time. Bethany turns away, perhaps embarrassed to be seen like that. I rise and check the time. “Well, I need to leave. Was there anything you needed? Anything else you wanted to say or ask?”

Bethany shook her head. As I pass her I pat her shoulder. “It will be alright. Even if that seems impossible now.” Then I walk away.

It isn’t until much later that I realize neither of us ate any of the cake.

7 January 2023

Continuing from the last Majesty post. Figured out a lot more of the current dynamic between Charles and Elliot with this. Ironically, even though he spends all his time talking about Charles, I learned more about Elliott here; it helped me finally get a pin on his character. Which made some of the earlier bits a little painful to reread, honestly, since he’s a bit over the top with the “noble privilege” in those.

“...anyway? Isn’t he some commoner trash, according to you noble folks?”

“Don’t call him trash.” The princeling glared at Arylwen, then stared back into the sea. “Why do you care?”

Arylwen shrugged and sat on the railing. “Just curious. Everyone seems to see something special in him. Even you.”

For a long time, the princeling didn’t respond. “Charles has this…core to him that no one else has. He’s honest–stupidly so, sometimes–and in a world of nobles scheming for power or asking for favors… well.” He smiled grimly and shook his head.

“So, how’d it start? When’d you meet?”

Elliott chuckled. “Well, he already spent most of the time in the castle, since his mother was one of the royal bodyguards. At first, he mostly played with the other kids in the castle, but one day he randomly noticed that I spent my time alone in the library.”

“Ah. More of that brooding.”

He shot Arylwen a glare, but continued. “Whatever the reason, he decided–on his own, I might add, whatever I thought–that I needed friends. At first, he tried to drag me out to play with the other children, but, well.” He grimaced. “After that, he parked himself next to me in the library. Sometimes he’d try to talk to me, but more often than not I’d ignore him. So he’d grab books and try to read. Honestly, it was exasperating how much he couldn’t understand, but…” For the first time, the princeling actually smiled for real. Arylwen felt a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

4 January 2023

This one is short, because I spent most of my evening planning things out for this story and trying to figure out who Elliott was better. In particular, I want to get a better grasp on the dynamic between Elliott and Charles, and the way that will evolve over the course of the series.

Arylwen found the princeling brooding over the railing at the stern. It figured. What else would blonde princelings do in their free time?

She dropped down next to him. She was a bit disappointed when he didn’t jump; he must be getting used to her by now. She asked, “Where’s the other one?”

“With the captain. I guess he wanted extra sword lessons or something.”

Arylwen shuddered. “He could still move after her normal ones?” When the princeling didn’t respond, she flipped around the rail to get a better look at him. “So what, he’s busy, and you just mope out here?”

Elliott shrugged. “More or less.”

“Why do you hang out with him, anyway?”

2 January 2023

Elliott’s still more hung up on royal pride than I think he should be. His shock at the difference between her demeanor and her implied heritage should still be there, but I think he’d express it differently in a less class-ist way.

Also, Arylwen is one of my favorite characters, at least as far as I’ve gotten to know her so far. She’s got this spunk to her, and absolutely will not take crap from anyone. It’s going to be fun, especially in the later two books.

A moment later, a figure with large, black bat-like wings glided down from the crow’s nest. When she landed, Charles and Elliott were shocked to see a girl their age, and even more when the wings folded into her back and disappeared. “What’s up, Mom?”

Captain Moira gestured to the two boys. “I’ve got a couple new cabin boys to work with you, straight from Jasper. Show them the ropes, would you?” She turned to the boys. “This is my daughter, Arylwen. I’ll be having her take care of you two, alright?”

Elliott still stood with his  mouth open, staring at Arylwen. Charles wasn’t much better, but he managed to pull himself together enough to offer a handshake. “Um, nice to meet you. My name’s Charles.”

Arylwen shook it halfheartedly, and she narrowed her eyes as she looked at the two of them. “Eh… Really, Mom?”

“Don’t judge the just by their looks; I’ve taught you that already. This one here used to be a prince.” She jabbed a thumb at Elliott, who had yet to regain his composure, then waved a hand at Charles. “And that one went down and talked with Jasper unannounced.”

Arylwen’s eyes grew wide, and she stared at Charles. “And you’re still alive?”

Charles nodded. “He’s, um, he’s really scary, but he think he m-might be kind of nie, too, in a way.” He bit his lip, then asked, “W-were those wings real? Are you really a dragon?”

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

At that, Elliott finally reacted. “But, that means you’re some sort of royalty! And yet, you’re dressed like [that], without any of the dignity a royal should have!”

Arylwen shrugged. “I don’t care about any of that crap. If you want details, ask my mom.”

31 December 2022 part 2

And with this, we are finally caught up; exactly one week behind my actual writing. That felt good.

More shenanigans with Charles and Elliott. I think I made Elliott too arrogant for this section; I don’t have a solid enough grasp on his character and how it shifts over the trilogy. His side of the story is, unfortunately, something of a tragedy, in contrast to Charles’ more heroic arc. I’d like to foreshadow that, of course, but I still need Elliott to be relatable, and a respected member of the team before all that goes down, which is hard to nail down.

The ship name—the Dragon’s Flight—is more than just a pun. It’s also not set in stone, so if I come up with something better I’ll use that instead.

Jasper raised an eyebrow and sat back. “Why?”

Charles blinked. He hadn’t expected that. “Um, well, he’s my friend. And he’s a prince, even if he doesn’t have a country right now, and, and–”

One of the wyverns hopped down and sniffed at Charles, who squeaked and stepped back. Jasper asked him, “Are you scared, little man?”

This was it. He was dead. Charles gulped and nodded, but rather than give up words started pouring out of his mouth. “I-I know you hate cowards, and you’re probably going to kill me ‘cause I’m so scared, b-but at least promise you’ll set Elliott free! He hasn’t even had a chance to try to take [our country] back yet, and he’s amazing, not like me, so if he had help–”

Jasper gave a signal, and another wyvern shrieked and snapped at Charles, silencing him. With a languid air, Jasper rose to his feet and began to circle around the boy, eying him up and down. Once he was back in front of Charles, he squatted down on his haunches and looked the boy in the eyes. “Let me get this straight. You’re freaking terrified of me, and you’re dead certain I’m gonna kill you. And even then, you came down here on the off chance you might be able to get me to let your friend go. That right?”

Charles nodded. Jasper tilted his head, almost ninety degrees, and narrowed his eyes. “This wasn’t some order from that princeling, was it?”

With a shake of his head, Charles replied, “Elliott told me I was b-being stupid actually. But, if you’re just going to sell him back to [the Conqueror], I had to try something. I think she’d do worse things to him than just kill him.”

Only the sound of the wyverns shuffling about could be heard. Charles began to sweat bullets, but he held very still, and even tried to hold his breath.

Then Jasper started laughing, and Charles about fell over. The pirate king clapped Charles on the back, hard enough it stung, and said, “I like you, kid. You’ve got guts. Alright, I’ll give you lot a chance. We’ll see if this princeling measures up.”

For a moment, Charles couldn’t believe his ears. It worked? He’d done it? By the time it sank in, Jasper had already pushed him above deck. Then all the tension drained out of Charles’ body, and he fainted to the floor of the deck, with a smile on his face.

The next day, Charles and Elliott were reunited. Elliott rubbed his wrists where his manacles had chafed, his displeasure clearly evident on his face. He looked at Charles in wonder. “What the heck did you say to him?”

Charles shrugged. “I don’t really get it, either.”

The ship they were on pulled up alongside another, smaller vessel. Probably another one of the ships in Jasper’s pirate armada. The crew pulled out planks to lay between them, and they herded Charles and Elliott across.

Elliott looked around, and with what little dignity he could muster he demanded, “Where’s the captain?”

“That’d be me.” A tall woman strode toward them wearing a loose, patched-up tunic, and a pair of breeches with one leg torn off at the knee. She had dark brown hair that fell around her shoulders in waves, and piercing green eyes that seemed to peer into the depths of Charles’ soul. He shivered, but he tried to match her gaze as long as he could.

Elliott opened his mouth to say something, but the woman held up a finger. She studied him next, then pointed at Charles. “You’re the one Jasper was telling me about? The one that impressed him?”

Charles shrugged. “I, I think so. I talked to him yesterday, at least.” 

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Well. Looks can be deceiving, then.” She turned to Elliott. “As for you… The princeling, right? You’re just as he described, so far.”

Elliott’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he frowned. “And what does that mean?”

The woman ignored him, and instead looked over them one more time and sighed. “I’ve really got my work cut out for me this time.” Before either of them could respond, she pointed her thumb at herself and said, “I’m Moira. You can call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Ma’am’. From now on, you’re not princes or servants or any of that. You are deckhands aboard the Dragon’s Flight, and that means you answer to me. Is that clear?”

Charles saluted and said, “Yes, Ma’am!”, but Elliott just glowered. “I’m not some lowly deckhand; I am a prince, and–”

“You were a prince, you mean,” Moira cut in. “You have no country, no authority, and no reason for me to respect you. If you want to change that–any of it–you start by doing what I say. Am I clear?”

“But–”

“Am I clear?”

Elliott shut his mouth, and his face turned pink. He bowed his head. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. You actually can learn; that’s a good sign.” She looked up into the rigging and whistled.