A girl, small in everyway possible, sat unmoving as her icy eyes followed the pirate cross the bar. Her gaze had always lasted the longest if it were to ever meet that of another’s, but this particular woman proved to be a worthwhile competitor in the contest of hateful glaring.

“Hey there, poppet,” a husky middle aged man slurred, breath reeking of cheap alcohol. “You alone? How’s ‘bout I joins yas?” he leaned in close. Lettie ignored him, never breaking her stare from the pirate woman even after she turned away and lowered herself into a bar seat. Lettie gave naught the sour-smelling man the privilege of her acknowledgement other than a wrinkle in her nose and shifting plainly away from him.

“Aww c’mon, don’t do that,” the man laughed drunkenly.

“Leave me alone,” Lettie commanded quietly.

He chuckled again. “I can’t hear ya, poppet, when yer so far away.”

“I said leave.” Lettie whipped her head around to glare at the man head-on, voice and eyes hard.

The drunkard gasped suddenly and clutched his head. His breath came in short, erratic gasps. He collapsed to the floor, sights and sounds of indescribable terror flooding his mind. A sudden heaviness fell upon the bar that every patron could feel. Lynn stood from her seat, disturbed by but interested in the strange doll-like girl.

Lettie stood over the writhing man, her face glowing with anticipation as each passing moment pressed more and more heavily on his fragile mind.

“And don’t call me poppet.” She practically spat the words. “I’m no cheap rag doll.”

“Miss Lettie,” a hand slid onto the girl’s thin shoulder. Lettie turned, spinning on her toes, and the drunk on the floor suddenly found the ability to breathe once more.

“Serv!” Lettie exclaimed happily, smile bright and eyes shining.

She…changed? Lynn thought, voicing her shock inwardly. Can demons repent and become angels so quickly?

Serv had a pleasant smirk on his face that seldom faltered no matter the circumstance. “Let us try not to attract so much attention, alright, Miss Lettie?” His eyes were warm as he spoke to Lettie, both his hands on her shoulders now. “I’ll handle this.”

He turned to the two men who had come to help their buddy. They eyed Serv cautiously, distrusting of his amiable expression.

“She with you?”

“Indeed,” Serv nodded, pulling his coat back at the waist so the pistol hanging from his belt was in plain view. “And there will be consequences if you do not do as milady asks.”

The men exchanged looks, deciding their spilled blood wasn’t worth their intoxicated efforts. Grumbling swears they dragged their friend behind as they exited the bar. After the men left, the silence in the air slowly began to dissolve and the hub returned to its normal pace.

Serv took his seat next to Lettie at the scratched wooden table. Immediately as he did so, Lettie coiled her arms around his neck and swung her knees beneath her, raising herself up so their eyes were level.

“You were gone longer than you told me you would be,” she said callously, her lively smile long gone.

“My apologies, Miss Lettie.”

Lettie slid her arms down, curling her fingers around Serv’s throat. She bared her nails and dug them into his skin. Her voice lowered.

“Don’t do it again.”

Serv removed her hands with disturbing calmness and held them in his own, running his thumbs over her knuckles and fingertips.

“As you wish, Miss Lettie” he lowered her arms to her sides. Then, with his hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her back into the seat. He ignored the stinging of the small crescent moons marring his throat.

“The captain of The Emerald is over there-” He pointed to the opposite corner of the bar “- female, about twenty.”

“Female?”

“Unusual, yes, but she fits the description nevertheless. Right age, occupation… history…” Serv turned to Lettie, who was gazing blankly at the woman.

Lettie wrinkled her nose; she was in no mood to interact with such riffraff.

“I want some fresh air. Let’s leave,” Lettie looked at Serv hopefully.

The young man chuckled. “This won’t take long, Miss Lettie.” He stood and offered his hand to Lettie. She took it, pouting and reluctant, and the two strode gracefully across the creaky floor.


Lynn was content, sitting in her little sun patch with emeralds in hand, until a towering shadow was cast over her.

“You’re blocking my sun.” She spoke coldly.

“Captain of The Emerald, I presume?” Serv asked. He didn’t bother to bow. Lettie stood behind him, her tiny hand engulfed in his. She looked the woman up and down and found her appearance to be unsettling. She was the type to not hold back if things were to become unpleasant.

Lynn turned in her chair, and stood to face the two. “You’re blocking my sun,” she repeated.

Serv stepped to the side, an amused smile playing across his face.

“Who’s asking?”

“This is Miss Lettie Engel, whom I, Ulrich Frei, serve and guard over.”

Lynn raised her eyebrows apprehensively. The Engel name was quite a famous one, being that the family commanded a large portion of the shipbuilding business. She gave a curt nod. “Lynn.”

“So,” the buccaneer crossed her arms across her chest. “What is your business with me? You two don’t strike me as the working type, so you’d be useless as crew members.”

“We wish to board as passengers.”

“I don’t take hitch-hikers.”

“We have money,” Lettie said, her tone sharp. She pulled out a silk pouch, heavy with coins, from her dress pocket. The pouch gleamed tauntingly in the light before Lynn grabbed it and opened it to check its contents, much to Lettie’s glee. Satisfied with what she found inside, Lynn hummed approvingly and pocketed the money.

“Fine. You two are to address me as Captain and as Captain only. We set sail at noon.”