Captain Thorngold threw the binoculars over his shoulder, for he had seen enough. Widagai flew to the other side of the ship, an impressive four meters, to catch the golden object. The colorful parrot would have ran if his left leg wasn’t made of wood.

“It be a simple calculation, Widagai. We can catch fish until we’re ancient … or we can plunder that ship there.”

Thorngold was a gray rhino that barely fit on the ship. His horn pointed at a small boat on the horizon.

“What if the king finds out? He doesn’t like buccaneers.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t dare arrest us all the way out here, on the Dolphin Pass. Something ‘bout a curse.”

Widagai was unconvinced. He folded his wings around the binoculars and studied their prey.

“If we do this, there’s no way back.”

Thorngold walked around his ship mate and shouldered a black object into position. They had precisely one weapon: a large cannon at the center. The little profit from their fishing had allowed Thorngold to purchase it at Heroeshaven. The remaining gold had given them twenty cannonballs.

“And if we kill ’em all, they can’t betray us!”

Widagai’s beak drooped. “The Brita will miss a ship. Such a ship is worth millions of Soliduri! With all the spices, silk, food—”

Thorngold licked the corners of his mouth. “And that’s why we plunder it. A ten minute job. Instead of sailing and fishing for ten months. It be a simple calculation, mate.”

Widagai put the binoculars away. The other boat seemed smaller than them and carried no weapons. They could easily attack it.

“Maybe we’re lucky this time,” said the parrot. “But what if we don’t meet any smaller boats ever again? We can never come ashore again. We’d have to still our hunger with a diferent boat every month.”

Thorngold grinned. “There is always a smaller boat.”

So there is always a bigger boat, Widigai thought.

Of course, the Brita wanted to protect their valuable ships, which means they usually sent along secret war ships. To watch from a distance, hidden.

If they saw anyone attempting to plunder their spices, they’d suddenly appear and punch twenty holes through your ship. In Heroeshaven they spoke with both fear and pride about Captain Pi who “protected their lands against those barbarians”.

The ship neared. Widagai could read the sail: a white cloth with an unfamiliar symbol of a jellyfish. That was a good sign. As fishermen, they’d fallen prey to buccaneers themselves many times, which means Widagai knew all the dangerous flags by heart.

The name was unfamiliar too: The Sting.

Fine. We’ll plunder it, he thought.

“Karlos!”

A black cat jumped on the ladder to the ship deck, skipping three rungs at a time. His fur was combed and licked clean; both his ears carried heavy golden earrings. He balanced precariously on the ship’s edge to study the water and pick some food out of his teeth.

“I’m not jumping in the water again for some ittybitty fishy. Ruined my fur for weeks!”

“I be giving you somethin’ better,” Thorngold said.

His cannon had a metal protrusion at the back. By taking it into his strong jaws, and walking around, he could aim the cannon precisely at the other fishing boat. Most of the weapons these days were only made for monkeys with hands. Thorngold had been overjoyed when he was able to find a cannon for a quadruped.

Widagai took off. It was a sunny, beautiful day without a single cloud in the sky. He didn’t like that. It made it harder to hide and spy on other ships.

He circled around the fishing boat, just above the ignorant heads of a few apes and swine. He counted five large barrels around the mast. Through the netting he spotted at least ten more barrels in the storage below. He scoured the horizons, but found no secret guard ships.

He raised his wing at Thorngold.

Thorngold ignited the cannon’s fuse.

Karlos raised his long nails before him like swords.

“Hello, dear traders,” one of the apes yelled. “Might we ask you for the fastest route to—”

They only spotted the cannon pointed at them from a mere twenty meters away.

“I warn you!” the ape said in a panic. “There’s a Heavenly Object here! Destroy us and the wrath of the Seafarers shall—”

From a mere ten meters away, their deck exploded.

A cannonball split the planks and created a rain of wood flakes. From that brown mist erupted a black cat, swinging from a rope, who landed on the deck with a dull thud. Widagai dove down and picked at the face of a swine.

“Surrender!”

The swine threw their weight into the battle. Karlos’ hind leg was squashed, but a fast slice of the nail created a hole in the deck instead. He fell down; the swine remained on deck.

One of the apes had found his sword. They could actually hold weapons, and this one was dangerous enough to make Karlos crawl backward with trembling paws.

Thorngold reloaded the canon. The tip of their ship was only five meters away from The Sting. Widagai saw it happen—he had a clear view from up high—but failed to stop it in time.

Their ship rammed the other trading ship.

The Sting broke into two pieces. Everyone on deck slid downwards, through the hole, as if the sea were a magnet. The barrels filled with valuable goods rolled along with them.

Karlos stuck his nails in the mast to stop his fall. His weight, however, made the mast bend until it broke like a bone.

The entire crew of The Sting, and Karlos, clung unto the wood with all they had. The floating mast was all that separated them from drowning.

Thorngold glared. “Save the barrels! Karlos! Grab those barrels!”

“I—be trying—to survive.”

Widagai wasn’t strong enough to lift Karlos, especially not with his single non-wooden claw.

The apes were agile enough to swing themselves on top of the mast. They collected wreckage to quickly create raft.

Until they suddenly stopped caring.

One by one, the apes let go. As if something below the water pulled them down.

Karlos went under too, but he fought his way back to the surface. His eyes were twice as large and forgot to blink. He stared at nothing, his gaze empty.

“The … curse … exists. I … have … seen.”

All the animals who had been under water, even if only for a brief second, squealed and swam in different directions. They moved faster than Widagai had ever seen—faster than he could follow. Thorngold whistled for him to come back.

“I call it a successful mission,” said Thorngold.

“Succes!?”

Without touching the water, he impaled two barrels with his horn and brought them onto their own ship. “It be a simple calculation, parrot. Our ship is still intact and now we have free food and gold.”

“But … Karlos …”

“I be admitting, it’s not great to completely destroy the other ship. We might want to try something else next time. Oh well, life and ya learn.”

Thorngold turned around—and day suddenly turned into night. The sun darkened and Widagai struggled to distinguish their own ship from the wreckage of The Sting.

A battle ship towered over them, at an astounding length of at least fourty meters. Like a whale eating a tiny goldfish, simply by accident, because he hadn’t even spotted the tiny fish.

Thorngold bravely turned around his cannon, but realized it was useless.

“We surrender! Spare us! Don’t destroy our pretty ship!”

Widagai flew upwards to give this message to the ship’s captain. Even that journey seemed to take ages. He flew past the name of this sea giant, painted on the wood with elegant letters: Adventure Galley.

Only one thought remained in his anxious parrot brain.

There is always a bigger boat …

The president of Barbala was about to refuse Paunet’s proposal. He’d hoped it would go smoothly, but now he had to come up with a really good explanation.

He didn’t have any.

“To be honest, your honor, I am bored to death.”

It was the truth. It wasn’t the entire truth.

Paunet was a peacock that displayed feathers in all colors known to monkeys, and even more than that, which most animals couldn’t see. And still he wore a colorful gown over his wings, even if that complicated walking and flying.

He stood in a beige building near the harbor. The salty sea air traveled through the building unobstructed, for the entire left side was a gaping hole. A gift from the previous attack on the island by an enemy ship. The only reason the island survived was because the original Seafarers had bravely defended it back then.

A dark brown table separated Paunet from the President: a brown-black hare with ears that reached the ceiling.

“Boredom is no reason. You come from a rich, powerful family. Why do you need more money?”

“But president, this won’t just be any ship, I say. This will be the best ship ever! No enemy ship will be safe. We’ll have won the war by simply having it, I say.”

Paunet crept closer. Not because he feared the president—he was practically family—but because his gown didn’t allow more movement.

“Did you hear, your honor? The next valuable ship has been lost at sea. What was it again? The Spring? The Thing? The Fling?”

“The Sting,” the president mumbled.

“As I said! Give me that space near the harbor, give me a chest full of Soliduri, and I will build a ship to hunt those bandits for you.”

The president shook his head, his ears flapping like strands of hair in a strong wind.

“Why? You have a save life here on Barbala. Money, status, wife, children. Have you even been on a ship?”

“No! That’s what makes it exciting! I, erm, will also need a crew. Animals who know how to turn on a sword.”

“To turn on a sword?”

Paunet laughed. “Ha, ha, just a joke, say I. Of course I know you need … a magic spell to use a sword?”

The president’s gaze settled on the complicated blueprint on the table, showing a large ship with innumerable cannons. He smiled. “These drawings look good, I must admit. If you can build this … even the ship of Captain Pi will seem like a toy!”

Paunet cringed at the sound of that.

“With all due respect, Captain Pi and those Seafarers are treated like gods around here—but they’re not. And I want to prove it.”

“But why?”

Paunet has asked himself the same question time and time again.

His family had several large estates on the tropical island Barbala, and coffers filled with gold. He was lucky. He had always had an easy life.

But that was his father’s achievement. One of the original Seafarers, he was, who did know a thing or two about money and trading. Paunet himself had never been interested.

And thus, for years, his riches had been stolen and destroyed, right in front of his beak. They had been at war with Frambozi for nine years now, and their enemies still believed all the tropical islands were supposed to be theirs.

What if he told the president he wanted revenge? No, he’d be rejected for sure. Everyone who left the harbor with a ship and revenge, died within a week, or became a buccaneer themselves.

“I am bored. I want a challenge. I want to hunt enemies for you.”

“You ask too much,” the president complained. This was not going as planned.

“Who refuses to pay the price, has never had the debt of Heavenmatter!” spoke Paunet formally.

“You can quote sayings all you like, it’s still—”

“It’s only a thousand gold coins, say I. I don’t ask for the Firering, or the Book of Meaning, or the Fartherwater, or your firstborn son, or any other huge offering.”

The president was about to walk away. Paunet hesitated. He knew it might come to this, but it still hurt.

“I am prepared to put my entire fortune into this ship myself.”

The president chattered his long teeth and bumped his nose against Paunet in a friendly gesture. “That’s more like it! That will save me a lot of Soliduri, yes, yes, yes, then I think I can support you.”

“Great.”

Paunet smiled and stuck out his wing for a wingshake.

The president didn’t understand and instead pointed his front paw at a building on the other side. “That lot’s empty. Build your ship there. If you need more gold or material anyway, let me know.”

Once outside, Paunet bumped into the market stall of a brown mongoose. As always.

“Ah, Paunet!”

“Ah, Monogo,” he spoke pompously. “News? Any exciting matters?”

Monogo looked drowsy, as if he’d just woken up. “No, no, same as always. Nothing to complain ‘bout, nothing to complain ‘bout.”

“I am starting a new project. Would you like to help build the most dangerous ship ever?”

“Huh? No, no, I have me stall. Fine like so.”

“As I thought,” Paunet mumbled.

He walked the entire harbor square, but absolutely nothing was happening. The same stalls as always, selling the same things, including the same useless rumors about someone’s breakfast or clothing choices.

No news from the outside world, which was definitely the more interesting part of this world. No news from his father who’d found another ship and embarked on another world journey—and made it very clear that Paunet couldn’t join him.

He decided to waste no more time on it.

Soon after, Paunet stood in the empty hall the President had assigned to him. A few palm trees had worked their way into the room, through holes in the broken wall. But in his dreamy eyes, he only saw a ship, shining and magical. A beautiful vehicle that would be right here in just a few months.

His ticket to a new life.

He’d done it. His life would finally start being fun.

He grabbed his list of requirements: lots of wooden planks, hammers, nails, cloth for the sails, and more.

His personal servants had come down from the estate to meet him here. He commanded them to purchase all these materials “in the name of the President”. And to “please wear some less smelly clothes next time”.

When he left the hall, he instantly sought the shade of two palm trees to cool off and take a break. The first objective was a success; the second one failed.

His wife walked up to him and gave him a kiss. He let it happen. A smaller peacock, with slightly duller colors, accompanied her briefly. But his daughter only gave Paunet a brief wave, then walked away and continued playing on the beach.

He had never found his wife beautiful. He didn’t say it—for it was not nice—but it was the truth. Father had forced him to marry her because she was the president’s family. She had even more money, even more power, and even more plantations.

When they married, he’d asked her to release all her slaves. He found it inconceivable to possess other animals, no matter how popular it was. No matter how hard you needed them.

As a consequence, his wife now also had no money, no power, and no plantations anymore.

She caressed his gown. “What … what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I have a new job as, erm, inspector of empty rooms.”

His wife raised her feathers. “Oh, well, then I have a new job for you: inspector of the dining table at home. We’re having dinner, dear, are you coming?”

“My apologies, dearest madame, I am very busy with—”

“Inspecting empty spaces?”

“Yes, exactly. Very hard work, I say.”

His wife let him go and walked to his daughter. She played with the wreckage of another ship. One of many victims of the fight between Frambozi, Casbrita, and some more lesser territories.

His wife made a final attempt. “Oh, do you mind if we’ll dance with pink aliens tonight and sacrifice burning palm trees to the gods?”

“Whatever you want, dear,” Paunet said, as he waved to his daughter again and made for the wood store. “Farewell.”

His wife’s feathers drooped like a melting icicle.

“Are we really going to dance with pink aliens?” his daughter asked, her face covered in sand.

“No, dear, it was … I don’t know why I said it.”

Life, dear reader, seemingly always wants something new and is never content with what it has. The push for the unknown is the only way I can explain Paunet’s story. It’s what put apes on the precipice of becoming very clever human beings at this point in time; it also caused tremendous pain and sorrow throughout all of history.

Suddenly the church bells rang, just outside the harbor square. This could mean two things: very bad news or very good news.

Paunet turned around and studied the waves on the horizon. He saw no enemy ships.

Everyone took cover behind a stone or a pile of coconuts. They held their breath. No cannonballs lodged into their walls; no screaming echoed over the beach.

So it must have been good news.

A down of hares hopped every which way. They held pieces of parchment with their long teeth, rolled up and kept in place by a thick wax seal. All of those were dark red and imprinted with the symbol of the king.

“Raise the flags! Eat pumpkin cake! Hug your children!” the hares yelled.

The messengers stood still at the fountain, which almost dried up during the tropical summers of Barbala.

“The peace treaty has been signed. Barbala isn’t at war anymore!”

The village of Smalljourn slumbered peacefully in the night. Candle light reflected in the black sea like a sky full of stars. Not a single breathing being walked the streets or watched the harbor.

The perfect circumstances for an attack.

Captain Pi stood on the bow of his gigantic ship named Adventure Galley. On his shoulder sat Widagai, the parrot who had become his messenger. Many parrots had assumed this job in recent times, and other birds were following once they caught onto just how much gold messengers earned per letter.

A few weeks ago he arrived at Pi with the most important message ever: a request, from the king of Casbrita himself, to completely erase that dreadful enemy.

Whoever managed it would deliver peace. Whoever sank all fleets of foes, burned all harbors of adversaries, would be a hero of Casbrita. The Hero to Stop all Future Wars. Because if nobody had ships or a harbor to build them, nobody could attack you if you’re an island.

Pi was the man to do it. As the son of the legendary Seafarers it could even be called his duty.

And it started here, at Smalljourn.

“Aye, finally a village with a sensible name. What’s that? A hundred homes, a little less? Fire a few warning shots. If they don’t surrender, we dock and simply take the village.”

“I counted a hundred and five homes,” Widagai said, “during my spy flight.”

“Aye! Warning cannons!” a rhino yelled, hidden by the shadow of the mast.

Thorngold had been incredibly lucky, again. Pi had spared his ship and even granted them a pardon, on the honor of the one and true king of Casbrita. Since then, they’ve never had to fear they’d meet a bigger boat than the Adventure Galley.

After days and days of pleading, Pi had even allowed Thorngold to take his lovely cannon with him.

Not a minute later, his cannonballs were the first to crush a watchtower along the shore.

No reaction.

“Aye, that be weird,” said Pi.

He was a tall monkey, always meticulously dressed. A black round hat betrayed his high-ranking position within the royal fleet. His crew often gossiped about his background and intentions, but Pi said a captain should not have to share such details. He had to win his battles and fight for his homeland. And they had to do as the captain commanded.

A red cloth wrapped around his hips and his left hand always carried something. A bottle, a cigar, a telescope, but most likely a sword.

“Widagai, have you seen any living beings?”

“Not seen, but heard. Snoring. I think they didn’t expect you this quickly.”

A dangerous assumption, Pi knew.

His ship could dock at harbor without any resistance. He climbed down, joined by five crew members, without any alarms.

They sneaked across the wooden pier, past the watchtower with five holes, straight into the silent heart of Smalljourn.

They found a single dog rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He tried to pull a wheelbarrow with raw material from a rope around his belly.

He stared at Pi, both yawning and wagging his tail.

“Good night, gentlemen. Could you please help? Come, come, if you there with the sword grab this side, and then the parrots grabs the other side, then—”

Pi did not hesitate.

“It’s a trap!” he yelled. “Fire at will! Cover me!”

His commands were relayed. Back on the ship, fuses were lit and cannonballs flew. They struck the first homes on the beach. Wood and stone scattered to create a ghostly fog.

Pi coughed and held the red cloth before his mouth, as he stumbled back onto the pier. His crew became a shield at his back. One yelled and went down.

A fire was lit at the top of the watchtower. A cannon was pointed at Pi’s ship. Widagai flew upwards and annoyed the being pointing the cannon, a shadow of which he couldn’t recognize the animal species, by repeatedly pecking at them.

Pi felt the trusty soaked wood of his own ship. “Have we been hit? How many enemies?”

“Unclear, aye,” said Thorngold. The mist made it hard to see your own paws, let alone what happened further on the island.

Pi’s cannons fired. Smalljourn’s cannons fired.

A crew member yelled and toppled overboard, into the blackened water. A chorus of screaming voices raise from the village.

The mist sustained, for many minutes on end, until it finally cleared.

They had won.

Part of the village was on fire. The watchtower had crumbled completely. Some inhabitants had fled using their own small lifeboats; they floated as silhouettes on the horizon.

The others surrendered. A large dog held a white flag in his mouth and waved it frantically. The others raised their hands. Or their paws, if they could stand on two legs.

“Aaaaye!” Pi yelled, as his sword pointed to the heavens. His crew yelled with him. He watched the harbor one last time: all ships burned, most piers unusable now.

It was done. “Onto the next enemy village!”

When he turned around, his crew blocked his path to the helm.

“Missed opportunity,” said Thorngold. The others confirmed with a curt nod. “The village is ripe for the picking! Plunder their treasures!”

Another ape, covered in blue garments and at least five daggers, stepped forward. He held Pi’s flag: bright blue, showing the face of the king.

“Plant our flag. Claim the territory for Casbrita.”

“That was not the command. The enemy has been destroyed in Smalljourn, we must—”

The crew stood their ground. The group was exactly as wide as the ship and locked their arms to create a wall. “Take our chances. That we must, aye.”

Pi rapidly climbed into the mast to make sure he was above everyone else. “I am captain. I decide. We move on.”

He yelled. “Once we’ve destroyed all harbors, freed the oceans of tyranny, we will be welcomed as heroes! You’ll be covered in more gold than you can ever spend!”

“And when will we have freed the oceans? When we’re all old and dead?”

Pi shook his head. “Only nine more harbors to go—stay strong! The last one will be the toughest. Casbrita wishes the Council of Kame, where the Companions ruled once, to be ours too. But then it’s done. Us heroes; peace everywhere.”

That was enough to break up the group, though not everyone was convinced.

“Elar, weigh anchor!”

“Elar went overboard during the fight, captain,” said Widagai.

“Thorngold!”

“His claws are too thick to—”

“Whomever is able to do so, make sure we start moving again.” With a disappointed grunt, someone trudged to the other side and weighed the anchor.

Widagai flew around the ship. After a short search, he spotted Elar, the crew member that had gone overboard, as he drifted aimlessly on the waves. Pi tried to haul him back on deck, but Elar worked against them.

When they finally placed him against some barrels, he spoke nonsense.

“The monster is coming. We’ll all die. Nobody is safe at sea. The monster ship is coming. Powers like gods will be unleashed.”

Everyone crept closer to listen. Elar’s eyes fell shut and his voice sounded as if he briefly became that monster himself.

“I … have … seen.”

Widagai had seen this before too.

The curse had reached all the way to here? They were on the other side of the world! The Dolphin Pass was many months away, if you traveled by water!

Pi pushed everyone aside. “Nobody touches Elar, or the water, until we figure this out.”

Widagai spotted something else in the water. Another parrot, larger and bright blue, which meant he was a king’s messenger. But if this one held an important message, it was now lost to the waves.

Paunet had expected these issues. His ship had only been in construction for a few weeks, and finally started to look like something, when the President refused to support him further. After the message that the war had ended, he didn’t find it all that necessary to build the biggest ship ever to defeat “the enemy”.

Paunet asked for a hundred wooden beams—he received fifty. He asked for enough white cloth to wrap around the entire building—he received barely enough for a gown.

He paced the harbor square with frustrated leaps.

“Ah, Paunet!” said the mongoose behind the stall, in the same place as always, selling the same wares as always.

“Monogo! Not the moment! Unless you have news for me?”

“Huh? No, course not. Have me stall. Same as always, nothing to complain ‘bout, nothing—”

“As I thought,” Paunet mumbled.

He finally found the President. Paunet’s patience for formal introductions and greetings had worn thin. His wing curled around the hare’s back and he nearly pushed his beak into his long ears.

“It’s a lie, President! Surely you’re smart enough to see that?”

“Pardon?”

“That fake message that the war is over.”

The hare hopped alongside him. “A lie? Signed by the king himself?”

Everything in the Caribean seemed to bathe in a yellow glow, and nature could be a green so bright that you had to avert your eyes. It was a lovely sunny place. Frankly, the only downsides were the war and the buccaneers. And coconuts that could hit you on the head at any time.

So why do I desperately want to leave? Paunet asked himself. He’d designed this plan for years. And now he wasn’t sure if he had to continue. But I really want to leave.

“A wax seal can be faked easily, say I. Centuries ago they even faked Companion Necklaces to great effect. And those things were far more rare than a stamp and some wax!”

The president chattered his teeth and looked skeptical. “Say you’re right. What’s the plan? Why pretend the war is over?”

“Simple, your honor. We stop building ships. We stop defending ourselves. In a few weeks, all our cannons have moved or been disassembled—and voila, the enemy takes our island easily.”

The hare shook his head. “I don’t see it. I am sorry, Paunet. I fear your ship—”

Paunet placed even more colorful feathers around the President, constricting him like a snake.

“I had hoped I didn’t need to do this,” he whispered, “but I know it is a trap.”

“Pardon?” The President hopped more vividly, until they rounded a corner and were alone.

“From a secret source. They also claim the enemy has a fleet of fifty ships, with one hundred cannons per ship.”

The President looked surly. “Of course. A secret source. Hundreds of cannons per ship.”

Paunet now placed his wings back on his heart and solemnly swore. “If someone asks me to keep a secret, then I am honorable enough to do so, say I! All I can say is that the information comes from somebody who worked for the enemy but has switched sides. You know how many powerful contacts my family has.”

The President did not walk away or make another sarcastic remark. He was lost in thought.

Paunet pushed some parchment against his belly. “My final request for more gold, I promise it. That ship will be our masterpiece. No, wait, I will name it in your honor! Come. Let me show you!”

“Fine,” he grunted.

Together they entered the large hall. The cracks in the beige stone walls had been fixed. He’d even asked a painter to provide a colorful and artistic wall painting that made the entire hall look as if you were inside a rainforest.

He’d also placed two purple doors in the gaping hole at the side. They had no door handles—another weird invention by the monkeys—but a plate you could headbutt. If you did, it unlocked and you could simply push open the doors by continuing to walk. A door that most animals could use, at least.

Upon entry, the President sniffed, moving the black tip of his snout up and down rapidly.

“I, erm,” whispered Paunet, “purchased some flowers to give the place a bit of a nicer small. Necessary, say I.”

“So that’s where the money goes?”

“A good smell is half the job.”

Fortunately, the President lost his skepticism when he saw the ship. It was only a skeleton now. Some loose wooden beams, half of an underside, a piece of cloth still looking for a lovely mast.

It was already impressive, though. It took a full minute to circle the entire length of the monstrous vehicle.

It rested on a row of round logs. Once the ship was done, they’d open the doors to the harbor, and simply roll the ship off of the logs and into the water. Paunet could already see it. He’d jump on the ship, wind in his feathers, and discover the wide world.

When he left the hall, he bumped into his wife again. He quickly closed the two purple doors and locked them.

“Ah dear, we meet again!”

She folded her wings. “And at the same location. With … the President?”

Paunet continued walking, his wing curled around the hare again. “Yes, yes, he helps me to find the next … empty space to inspect. Tough task! Little time!”

“We’re going to sing with magical unicorns on another planet, after dinner,” his wife said. “Fine with you?”

“Yes, yes, what an excellent idea, dear,” he mumbled in response.

Everyone had put out their flags to celebrate the “end of the war”. A wooden sign announced a large party using colorful letters: Peace in Barbala!

“You see,” Paunet whispered, “exactly what the enemy wants. What’s the best moment to strike?”

The President froze and mumbled. “At a large party. When everyone is in the same place, celebrating, caught off guard.”

He turned to Paunet now, his tall ears stiff and upright. “How long until the ship’s done.”

“A month or two.”

“I accede to your request. You’ll get your gold. Work fast.”

The hare visited the group of animals that had just placed the wooden sign. As Paunet walked away, he heard confused cries about why the party had to be “delayed two months”.

Smiling, he visited all the stalls to order extra materials. The President hadn’t even seen that he asked for much more than the original blueprint wanted.

He shopped until night fell. Rays of moonlight traveled through the stained glass windows of the church and created colorful figures on the cobblestones of the square. Some couples danced over them, accompanied by an ape playing some musical instrument. He had to smile.

Barbala was a beautiful island, so why did he want to leave?

His smile disappeared when he saw his building again.

The doors had been opened.

The burglar had shut them again, carefully and neatly, but that didn’t matter: the secret lock on the door lay in the grass, in two pieces.

“Hello?” Paunet squeaked softly. Dumb, so dumb. You shouldn’t have made a sound!

No reaction. His left wing pushed open the left door, with such care that only his beak fit through the crack. He took a deep breath and pushed further.

The space was dark and desolate. Moonlight only reached it through the smallest windows near the ceiling. The only sound was the wind rustling the palm trees and the clashing waves of the ocean.

The moonlight revealed a message.

The parchment was lodged between two beams to keep it upright and clearly visible. Was that … a skull?

Red letters, as if painted with blood. An icon of a dolphin with razor-sharp tridents—the commonly used icon to signal the Curse of the Dolphin Pass. He read the first few sentences and then lost his courage to read more.

Destroy this ship that violates sea law, or we destroy Barbala without remorse. The curse comes for those who forget the past or glorify the future.

“I said it!” Paunet yelled. He ran outside, half flying, half stumblin.

“Someone broke into my hall! The enemy is here! They’re coming for us! The war isn’t over at all! Aaaaaaah.”

Pi did not say it out loud, but he was glad that Mateshaven actually defended itself honorably. He didn’t like traps or uncertainty. He liked a good fight—his ship against the obvious enemy—which he could win. Also because said fights usually ended quickly. The enemy would quickly realize they stood no chance against Adventure Galley.

There was no senseless fighting. No more buildings needed to be destroyed, or animals killed, than necessary. And still Pi could conquer the next enemy territory for Casbrita and increase his legendary status.

The enemy was far better prepared this time. It even moved to meet him before he reached Mateshaven.

His Adventure Galley still drifted past Madaska, more than a day away from Mateshaven, when five ships already created a blockade on the horizon. Five strong ships, for this was a rich and powerful territory. Not because of their skill or discipline, though, Pi did well to remind everyone he spoke to. No, merely because the Soul of Darus was found here and had given them unfair advantages.

“Five ships,” Pi mumbled. “That’s nothing, aye.”

“Can we handle that?” Widagai asked. His wooden leg tiptoed on Pi’s broad shoulders.

“As long as we believe we can handle that, we can. Prepare the cannons—”

“Already started, aye!” said Thorngold with a mischievous grin.

The crew hastened to reach every corner of the ship. The entire ship seemed to tremble with excitement in anticipation of battle.

They were halfway their journey back to Casbrita. Back home, his lovely home, where his sweet wife and children waited for him.

They’d conquered half their list, but Pi knew it would only get tougher and tougher. They were too far away from Caribean now for safety, but also too far from Casbrita to get reinforcements. And then the Council of Kame, Pi worried. How will we ever conquer that?

He pushed the thoughts away; he presently had a wall of five ships to climb.

“We must make sure they can’t attack us all at once.”

“How?” Thorngold kicked and dragged massive cannonballs towards the other crew members as if they weighed nothing. They, on the other hand, sometimes needed three apes just to catch them and put them in a cannon.

“A fine question.” Pi ducked underneath a rotating sail. A while later the entire ship turned and Pi steadied himself against two barrels.

The ships were close enough now to recognize flags. Yes, these came from Mateshaven, and were prepared for war.

Pi studied the ocean in every direction. There was always a solution. His ship barely had a scratch on it, that’s how legendary his skill in sea battle was.

But he didn’t see the solution.

The enemies created a circle. A crescent moon that left Pi no other choice than to sail into its heart. If they could lock him in, they could destroy the entire ship with ease, hitting him from all sides. Pi could maybe sink one or two—before he sunk himself.

“Captain, captain, captain,” Widagai said. “We’re almost stuck.”

“I know!” he yelled.

His eyes gazed; his mind searched; nothing. They should’ve taken a different route, through the narrow street between Madaska and Origina. But he feared that would lock them in too.

Thorngold stomped and grabbed his cannon. “It be a simple calculation. Five ships against one. Madness!”

Pi agreed. They should’ve turned around when they first noticed the five ships. But a captain who fled at the sight of danger wasn’t exactly an inspiration to his crew.

Yes, he was a demigod. A faint descendant of Gulvi. His father had been one of the original Seafarers who saved the world when it almost destroyed itself through greed for Floria.

He was, however, no superhero. He didn’t even know what his magical power was. He considered himself a simple captain who wanted to do good and remove evil.

Now there was nothing more to do than fight.

“Whoever wants to leave, can go now,” he spoke softly. He pointed at two lifeboats that hung just below the railing, dangling against the outer hull of Adventure Galley.

Silence reigned.

“Are ya mad?” escaped Thorngold loud mouth. “I mean, erm, are you perhaps not entirely—”

“We fight,” said an ape. “Better to die fighting alongside Pi, than life with shame.”

“Pi!” the apes yelled. “Pi! Pi! Pi!”

Soon the entire crew chanted his name. Believing you can win, Pi thought with a smile, is the first step to winning.

Then he saw the obvious solution. Inspired by what he’d seen Thorngold do, on accident, some time ago.

As the enemy ships opened fire, he suddenly turned his ship to sail straight at the nearest of the five. It seemed as if he wanted to ram the ship.

A possible tactic, for the Adventure Gally was larger and stronger. But it would also destroy Pi’s ship to such an extent that the battle ended right there. Like an elephant who might be able to crush a tiger with his massive paws, but hurts his paw in the process.

The enemy temporarily froze in surprise, then reacted swiftly. They turned with him. Once Pi had rammed the first ship, they could immediately shoot him to bits and pieces. That front-most ship was less excited about this prospect and still tried to turn away.

At the last moment, Pi gave a hand sign to his entire crew. All at once, with perfect timing, they shifted the sails, adjust the oars, and kicked against the rudder.

The ship nudged ever so slightly to the right. Instead of a full collision, it dealt only a glancing blow to the ship, floating alongside it. Anything that stuck out too far—oars, planks, ropes, decorations—was scraped off the hull and landed in the sea.

They were intertwined, like two friendly ships holding hands, unable to let go of each other.

His entire crew jumped on top of the other ship. Only Pi and Widagai remained.

His well-trained men had no trouble dispatching of the enemy. Three were kicked overboard, the helmsman received a sword through the belly, and the others surrendered.

Now they had two ships against four.

The enemy ships had quickly surrounded Pi again. Nobody remained on his ship to fire the cannons, and Widagai—at his own admission—was more than useless in a sword fight.

Everything depended on the next step. If they won a third ship, it would be three against three. Equal odds, fair playing sea. Not if Pi was involved though—then it was victory assured.

Thorngold lit all the cannons on the other ship. Most cannonballs landed safely in the water. All his love for cannons did not make it easier to aim at a moving target far away, standing on a bobbling ship.

Widagai left Pi’s shoulder for another reconnaissance flight. He found the one ship, of the four, with the least crew and signaled it to Pi.

The captain waited a few seconds, to gather courage and strength, then turned the Adventure Galley in its direction.

Five large swings of the wheel put the ship precisely in line with the enemy. The deck slanted until all the barrels toppled over and rolled into the sea.

It was a fine plan. But even fine plans go wrong.

For every cannonball they fired, ten were received. They’d accidentally given the enemy a better idea: they could ram their ship too—and they were fine with losing one of their four ships by doing so.

Pi turned and turned, but he was losing his first mast, then his second mast, then the bow, and eventually the water freely flowed into the lower decks of his ship.

The smallest Mateshaven ship, which he had planned to take over just now, raced to the side and rammed into the place just below Pi. The crew jumped into the water as it happened.

Pi’s ship broke in two. Slowly, defiantly, but broken all the same.

The Adventure Galley was no more.

Thorngold screamed and fired a thundering hail of bullets. It turned one enemy ship into more holes than wood. The type of ship that had the habit of sinking very rapidly.

It was one against two now.

Pi clung onto any part of his ship he could find, as the dark water approached.

“Jump! Jump for us!” his crew yelled.

Pi flexed his muscles as he elegantly climbed the final upright mast.

A new rain of cannonballs came for them. As they hit, Pi jumped from the highest point, spread his red cloth like wings, and started a glide.

He landed next to a grinning Thorngold. Until he, joined by his beloved cannon, was blown off the ship.

“No!” Widagai yelled. He was too late, too far away, still among the clouds. Thorngold fell backward into that cursed ocean.

Something else, however, came out of the ocean.

A black paw, neatly combed and washed, held onto him and threw him back on deck. It took a while before Widagai realized why the paw looked familiar.

“Karlos! Karlos!”

He wanted to fly away, but Pi held his wooden paw.

Pi’s other hand held a piece of parchment: a search warrant. For none other than Pi himself.

The enemy had promised 100,000 Soliduri to whoever defeated the monster Pi. A compliment, yes, but also a confirmation that they couldn’t finish this mission alone.

“Ask for help,” he asked, out of breath. “Fly back to Caribean. Ask the colonies for help. Ask fishing boats. Ask the tropical islands. Ask whomever wants to help us.”

“But …”

The wreckage of the Adventure Galley was used a shield. The massive wooden vehicle blocked line of sight and made it hard to sail through the area. The enemy struggled to see or reach them for the time being.

Pi fled as quickly as he could, now captain of a stolen ship—much smaller and weaker.

Widagai sighed, as Karlos was hoisted onto deck.

“I’ll find help,” said he. “Where might I find you in a week’s time?”

“Hopefully passed the Lovelily,” Pi said, still panting. “Go! Go!”

Pi watched his parrot ga. Then he looked at the state of this new ship, which barely fit his entire crew, even as they lost a few members during the fight. And that weird catlike creature that helped them, with eyes that didn’t lok natural.

This, he thought, is not going according to plan.

Even the best plans could change. Experience had taught him that lesson through the many bruises on his body, and the five ships he lost to the sea before the Adventure Galley.

Now that they had an enemy ship … with the enemy flag, logo, weapons, everything … they’d never see them coming.

The investigation on Barbala had taken several weeks. Nobody knew who the burglar could have been or how they arrived on the island. Why they hadn’t destroyed Paunet’s ship instead of leaving a threat to do so, posed an even larger riddle.

Paunet had found several more odd objects since then. An extinguished torch on a deserted strand of beach. Two rusty swords, hastily dropped into the grass patch behind the harbor. Every shadow seemed to hold an enemy spy now. The war wasn’t over; it had become secret.

He was afraid to visit his own ship, especially at night. He let the work continue, but kept to the sunlight outdoors himself. From the outside, the ship seemed built according to plan, but the extra gold that Paunet had received was used for a different interior. A beautiful room for himself, decorated with colorful carpets and the finest silk. A wardrobe, of course, and a library.

This left little space for his crew. And all those enemies he’d capture, obviously. Which is why he secretly made the ship slightly larger in all directions.

“I fear I have to ask a final bag of gold coins,” Paunet started, “for several setbacks—”

The President cut him off. “Setbacks? Of course. How unexpected.”

Paunet frowned and feigned surprise. “Yes, most regretful, I say too. I’d have wished the ship was already done! But first the burglary, then the threats aimed at my crew, and then—”

“Yes, very serendipitous. Precisely the day you claim the war isn’t really over, a message appears on your ship that seems to confirm it.”

The President looked stern and kept his ears glues to his neck, like a mouse trap that could spring at any time. “Precisely as your project runs into trouble, there’s a burglary and you convince the entire island it needs more ships.”

Paunet’s beak hung wide open and he pretended to be hit right in the heart. “Do you accuse me of … treachery?”

“I don’t accuse you of anything. Nor will I give you a single gold coin more.”

His heart raced. Would it be enough? Would the ship actually be finished now?

“Well, then I guess I’ll hunt our common enemies using a ship without a bow and only one half cannon.”

“No, no, no, Paunet. It’s done.” The President turned away. “Stop telling stories, stop promising, stop asking for money.”

Paunet’s wife walked up to them, his daughter under her wing again. She wouldn’t fit there much longer. When did my daughter grow so tall?

The President leaned forward. Even though he whispered, the aggressive words shocked Paunet to his core.

“And most of all: stop lying to those who care about you.”

He greeted her warmly. They spoke briefly, but her eyes were fixed on Paunet. A down of hares eventually pulled the President away with questions about building permits and stray coconuts, which left him and his wife standing alone on the square.

“Dear, we must talk,” she started.

“Is this about dinner again? I promise I’ll be home.”

“It is not about dinner!” his wife yelled. Paunet shrunk back. She pushed him to an even more silent and isolated part of the beach. “Sorry, but you can be so blind sometimes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my beautiful eyes, Paula.”

Paula pointed at the sea, which glistened in the sun and undulated carelessly.

“They say there’s a curse infecting the water.”

“I should’ve never let you read that letter,” Paunet said, shaking his head. “The curse is a made-up fairytale, say I, and everyone knows it.”

“They say there’s a beast there. A sea monster. And the beast must be fed. The stories started at the Dolphin Pass, but now the same story is told everywhere.”

“The Caribean and the Dolphin Pass are on opposite sides of the world! There is no reason to wor—”

“And everyone knows that a beast must be fed. The larger the ship, the tastier the morsel.” Paula wrapped her feathers around herself, as if she was overcome by cold. “Still men keep sending larger and larger ships to the sea. Still they keep feeding the beast.”

“If the enemy builds a ship, and you don’t, then your island is soon in the possession of said enemy.”

“Not anymore. It’s a time of peace, remember? War is over?”

Paunet didn’t follow. “You read the letter, right? And all the odd objects I told you about?”

Her beak closed shut with a loud clack. “I have, through tremendous effort, found six good friends to fill my life. Three of them have had to raise their children alone, for years now. Their men sought the adventures of the ocean, with a shiny ship and shiny words, and they merely fed the beast.”

Her eyes spit fire, brighter than sunlight. “Don’t tell me the curse is made up. It exists. In the heart of anyone who leaves behind his loving family for the open sea.”

He shivered, from skull, to spine, to toe. That’s what it was about.

She knew he was building that ship.

You didn’t build a gigantic ship to display it in your backyard. Especially not if it cost the entire fortune of your family. You build it to sail away.

“But for some,” Paunet spoke softly, “the sea might be the only right place. Don’t ask a fish to live on the land, or a bird to live underground.”

Paula cried. Her feathers shook. “But you can ask them why they’re not happy at this place. What gave them the idea they had to find a different home. What one might change to make their current home worth staying for.”

“I think … I think they’d answer, if you asked, that it’s not about the place. That there’s a curse in their heart which calls for adventure and exploration. That no single place would ever do—for they want to visit a new one ever day.”

“Well, well, well, then I think they should consider their answer a little longer and with less stupidity!”

Paula stood and ran into the busiest area of the beach. Their daughter played there, and waved absently to her father as she continued building a sand castle. His wife took her under her wing and stormed back to their estate.

He’d never seen his wife like that. Such passion, such emotion. Everything had always been … fine. No big troubles, but also no big joy or relief. Their daughter was silent, well-behaved, and never got in the way. The ideal daughter. That’s what Paula told all those friends of hers.

That’s what the entire island said about them. The ideal family.

He’d rather have had the opposite.

A daughter that dove into adventures every day. Who regularly broke something, or got lost, or at least did something new and exciting.

The sea monster had to be fed. Paunet hoped he could do it with the ships of others.

Lacking support from the President, he’d have to change a few things. He could only pay for a small crew. Perhaps he could have the best cannons, but he lacked Soliduri for ammunition. He certainly couldn’t replicate the luxuriance of his estate.

It didn’t frighten him anymore. The excitement of his new life, of defeating enemies at sea, had subdued all other feelings.

He’d travel the seas on the largest ship ever build, whatever it took. In fact, the President’s distrust would only make his plan easier, the goodbye simpler.

A dot appeared at the sky, grew bigger and bigger, and then crashed into the waves mere meters before his beak.

A parrot with a wooden lag stumbled onto the beach in a panic.

Karlos looked at Pi but did not see him. His glassy eyes dripped tears; his drooping mouth dripped spittle.

“You saved my life, man,” said Thorngold. He gave the black cat a friendly nudge, which nearly made Karlos topple over. “How … where … how did you …”

“I’d seen you’d be here. And that you would lose.” Even as he spoke, he watched past everyone’s faces.

“He can predict the future?” whispered Pi to Thorngold.

The rhino raised his paws in confusion. “Not the last time I be seeing him, aye.”

Pi leaned forward and forced Karlos to look at him. “Please clearly state your answers. Can you predict the future?”

Karlos closed his eyes and shook his head. “The water can predict the future. The curse.”

Several crew members were always looking down at the waves, always watching. But for the first time, their fear of the curse turned into a hint of desire.

“Don’t even think about it,” said Pi sternly. “You see what it does to you.”

“Aye,” said Arap, a bulky ape who was the captain’s first mate. “One of us jumps in the water and studies the future. Then they tell us exactly where the enemy is and how to defeat those scummelbags.”

Karlos shook his entire body this time. His fur slowly dried and shone again. “Most of the time, the water shows you nothing. Sometimes the past. I was lucky to see the future.”

“And live to tell the tale,” said Pi. His voice reeked of distrust. “Did you live under the water all that time?”

“The curse also creates air bubbles. Large ones. They helped me safely come ashore in the Caribean.”

What odd curse creates helpful air bubbles and predictions of the future? thought Pi. That doesn’t sound like a curse, aye, but like a gift.

Karlos had the same gaze as Elar, who went overboard at Smalljourn. What did he say again? The monster was coming, the monster ship was coming. That did not sound like a gift.

Their stolen ship hugged close to the shoreline. Lazyland had come and passed. Now the drifted passed Balkze, at a snail’s pace that frustrated Pi.

And then there was the matter of trust. An old friend of Thorngold and Widagai suddenly turns up? Trusting them, all those weeks ago, was a gamble, an act of kindness. Since then, they’d found more misfortune than at any other time in his career.

He beckoned for several apes to come to him.

“Treat Karlos well, but keep a close eye. A spy in our midst would mean the end. Once he feels better, we continue our questions.”

“Of course, captain,” said Arap with teeth clenched. “I’d forgotten that we’re a worthless lifeboat, an animal ambulance, instead of the strongest royal sea soldiers there ever were.”

Pi’s hand was already on his sword. “I hope I misheard you.”

Suddenly all the apes held their sword. Everyone stood behind Arap and formed a wall again. Pi had to face it alone.

Thorngold and Karlos stood awkwardly between the two groups.

“You’ll kill us all, Pi,” said Arap. “We lost our unsinkable ship. You deny us the pleasure of raiding all the villages on the shore. To steal the gold of our enemies. And the king of Casbrita just sends us all over the world to carry out his lust for war.”

Pi drew a second sword from an unknown origin.

“You swore an oath …”

“Who will stop us? The king? He’s half the world away, safe in his bed!”

“We are not filthy buccaneers and bandits!”

“We have no food. We have a damaged ship.” Arap stepped forward. Thorngold and Karlos, both animals of considerable size, stopped him. “Close your eyes and ears, then, if your pour soul can’t handle it. But let us steal and plunder what is rightfully ours!”

“We don’t fight for the king. We fight for what is right, aye, and that is peace in Casbrita.”

“You. Maybe. Not us. And if you don’t work with us, aye,” said Arap as he sharpened his sword against a barrel’s metal ring. “Then I propose a different captain.”

“We were sent to stop buccaneers,” said Pi, more disappointed than afraid. “And now you want to become them?”

“Aye, you know what happens then,” said Thorngold, who was still the only shield between the two furious apes. “There’s always a bigger boat. Pi took us in and cared for us—because that is right. If you do this, anyone who finds you and defeats you will not be as kind.”

Arap went silent. He lowered the sword, but never fully put it away.

“A compromise. Once we reach Lovelily, let us plunder. But everything we take, captain, we give to you. So that you can continue being being a foolish charity rescue boat. For believe me, Pi, as your best friend: once we’re home, the king will take everything we’ve done away from us.”

We have no food, no weapons, nothing, Pi had to agree with him. Part of the crew was severely wounded, but they had no medicine. He’d worked all his life to reach this position. Highest-ranking captain. Considered a hero, once he got home.

But how could you be a good captain if your choices didn’t let the entire crew get home? What would he do if the king indeed betrayed them and never actually rewarded them for the work?

It was the enemy they were fighting. If they didn’t want to be plundered, they shouldn’t have started a war with Casbrita.

Over a week later, they reached Lovelily just before dawn. The crew had repaired the ship’s hull as much as possible. On the inside, it was a broken mess that could barely be called a boat, with ladders that stopped halfway and captain’s quarters without doors or ceiling. From the outside, though, the Silver Dolphin looked as if it had never seen a battle in its life.

Their flag fluttered proudly—the enemy flag. No alarms were raised on their approach. The apes had tried to copy the flag’s logo and scratch it into their uniforms too. Just to be sure, they also hid the weapons.

The ship could dock at the harbor without anyone giving them a second glance. Arap looked at Pi and had to hide his grin.

Pi found it unbelievable. Such a simple trick, but, well, why would it not work?

He stepped off of the ship. His crew followed. Soon, his entire army stood in the sand—forty animals with double the weapons—and nothing happened.

A beaver walked up to them holding wooden blocks in his teeth, which were inscribed with arrows, dots and letters.

“Welcome to Lovelily! Are you traders? Oh my, oh my, what a large group. Maybe you want to buy a map of the city?”

“Erm, well.” Pi looked around, searching for a right answer. The crew shrugged. “No thanks, we know the place.”

That seemed a logical answer. Pretend you’ve lived here all your life.

They continued their trek into the city until they reached the first building: a tavern filled with cheerful music and laughing animals.

The harbor was built at the very end of the Lovewall, when it still existed, and was shaped like a water lily. It was entirely built on the water, like a gigantic wooden table with many legs.

In its center grew a small group of white and pink buildings. Thanks to the work of someone called Chef, they managed to grow thousands of plants on wooden soil. Visiting the place felt like walking through a blossoming forest where some giant just happened to clumsily drop a building every now and then.

What is this? Pi thought. It felt uncomfortable. Goosebumps traveled the skin of his arms and he wished for eyes in the back of his head.

How … how does this work? This is no attack. This is no fight. These creatures have no idea that an army walks with them. These creatures …

All around him, animals chatted, went on their daily business, or let their children play amongst the flowers. This was no trap too. This was a village that did nothing wrong, but just happened to be in the hands of the enemy. Barely so, the way it was located at what felt like a cliff at the end of the world.

A village that regularly hosted buccaneers, precisely because there was no strict policing. A village that also hosted slave traders, for they could do as they liked here.

And the king had ordered—commanded—that it be destroyed.

Don’t stand still in the middle of the harbor, that’s suspicious.

The group entered the tavern, as slowly as possible, as if this was their usual meeting place and they always came here.

At the same time, a parrot entered through an open window. No, it wasn’t Widagai.

“Smalljourn has fallen! Smalljourn has fallen!”

The tavern fell silent. Pi and his forty crew members rapidly took their seats in a dark corner.

They only heard about this now? That’s how long it took for messages to travel to distant places?

“A cruel attack. Barely any survivors, according to a dog attached to a wheelbarrow. The village is uninhabitable now.” The parrot swallowed before continuing the message. “They fear the attacker continues their path upwards. He might attack Mateshaven or Lovelily any day now.”

“Can’t they just leave us alone!?” a woman sighed behind the bar.

“Who’s the attacker?” a voice asked at the back. The parrot grabbed a second parchment. It contained a jumble of black scratches and a large monetary reward. Pi had seen this parchment before, when he first entered their stolen ship.

It had his face. The reward had grown. And thick letters screamed: “CRUEL BANDIT”.

All heads turned to study the parchment.

All heads turned to study Pi’s resemblance.

“Grab him!”

“Stop! I—”

Arap kicked Pi from his chair, sending the captain safely outside of the tavern before the fight started. His crew drew swords and dove deeper into the tavern like a swarm of hornets, buzzing and stabbing in all directions. Animal after animal hit the ground. The parrot left through the window and raised the alarm.

Pi stood outside as his crew destroyed and plundered the tavern. They found a chest of gold at the back of the building. Always filled when it comes to popular taverns.

A dozen barrels contained their food storage. They lacked enough hands to take more than three of them.

Arap and the others raced out of the tavern. Not to flee; to plunder the next building. All occupants yelled and scattered to find a hiding place. Those too slow would only find a sharp sword.

From a lighthouse, at the other side of Lovelily, erupted a squad of policemen. A pack of wolves and dogs who approached with terrifying speed.

“Stop! That’s an order! Stop fighting!”

But he’d promised to let them plunder. He’d prepared them for a fight for weeks, making sure they were ready to conquer the final cities on the king’s list. All that tension flowed out of his crew now.

Pi didn’t know if they’d win this battle against the city. He only knew that little would be left standing at the end.

No, Pi was not alone. Karlos stood behind him. Thorngold refused to leave the black cat alone. A pretty uninspiring crew if you still had to conquer the Council of Kame.

But everything was better than … this.

They ran away from the tavern, back to their ship. They were too late: several wolves had already found the foreign ship and tied it to the harbor with thick ropes.

Another ship then. A fishing boat. A lone fisherman was the occupant, sleeping in his hammock. He woke up instantly once Thorngold’s heavy paws plopped onto deck.

“Are you the owner of this ship? Pi asked.

“W-What? No, my brother.”

“Where is your brother?”

The owner took his time responding, as if he considered ignoring them entirely and falling back asleep.

Pi pushed him out of the hammock.

“Answer me!”

“My brother is looking for the real owner of this fishing boat to—”

“Whomever is the owner of this ship, we purchase it!”

“Aye? How? Why?”

“With violence,” Thorngold said with grin. “It be a simple calculation. A ship for us; a life for you.”

“I will compensate you,” Pi interrupted quickly, “once the king paid out our handsome rewards.”

Pi wasn’t sure anymore that the king would do that. He had a list of choices, and they were all bad.

Sail away and he’d drop his crew, risking their anger and revenge for the rest of his life.

Stay and they’d probably all be arrested or maybe die.

Return to the king without conquering the Council of Kame would mean he was forever considered a failure or maybe even jailed.

The Council was the only location on the king’s list with which he fully agreed. It was a hornet’s nest of buccaneers, enemies, terrible practices, and forbidden dark magic. It had to be attacked and cleansed at some point.

As the owner pushed his fishing boat off the shore, still surprised, Pi made this decision.

He’d conquer the Council, return home, demand his reward, and live the rest of his live in comfort on some remote island where nothing happened. Wife, children, a bit of land, and nothing to do with fighting, war or deadly danger.

The parrot with the wooden leg did not stay on Barbala long.

Widagai first spoke to Paunet. Aid? For the amazing captain Pi? That sounded like an adventure. Only Paunet had, as always, different plans. Plans that meant he never ever wanted to meet that boring captain Pi.

He said nothing of the ship he was building. He only told about the threat he received, the false message the war was over, and the weird things that happened since then.

Then Widagai flew to the President. After a conversation that lasted an hour, he left again. Paunet didn’t know what the President had said, but the parrot shivered and regularly forgot how to fly.

Good, Paunet thought. The ship is still completely mine.

The President had not given him another gold coin, as warned. That’s why the ship was missing some parts, like a mast, or a flag. But tomorrow … tomorrow it would be finished and he’d be gone.

By now, all of Barbala knew of the project. They often visited to give suggestions about the design. Sure, Paunet understood that an extra mast was nice, but he’d rather put the money into beautiful colors and a nice smell for the cabin. He thanked everyone, then ignored their completely valid suggestions.

He only listened once. At first, he’d called the ship The Wart. Because in his words: “It sticks to the enemy and makes them look silly, no matter how much they try to remove us!”

The island wasn’t thrilled with this name. So now the letters were repurposed to The Dragonth. According to Paunet, that was the “formal” spelling of the word Dragon, as intended by the First Dragon himself. Everyone assumed he’d just made that up.

As he walked home that night, he waved at Monogo. Still behind his trusted stall. He expected Monogo to reach stay alive for two hundred years and still look and do exactly the same.

“Ah, Monogo. Some final words? A goodbye? I leave tomorrow.”

He shrugged. “Same as always. Still donna understand why you go. Don’t you think: I have me home, me wife, me money?”

Paunet was about the explain himself, but merely mumbled: “As I thought.”

He made for his estate.

As he entered the bedroom, Paula was still awake. She sat upright and caressed the side where Paunet usually slept.

“Can I say something?” she started. “Anything that can convince you to stay?”

“Dear, I don’t have a choice. The President put everything into this ship. It cost a fortune. The crew has been assembled and—”

“You always have a choice!” Paula looked away. “Don’t lie to me. The President doesn’t trust you at all. You lie, you twist, you deepen your pockets with my family’s gold. The entire island expects you to sink immediately tomorrow, as soon as you hit the first wave!”

Paula hit the blankets hard. “They placed bets on how long you’ll survive at sea. Do you know the highest bet anyone placed? Do you? Three days.”

Paunet tried to appease his wife with a gentle feathery hug. “A bit more trust would not be—”

“Trust has to be earned. You didn’t build a ship, you build a fantasy.”

Paunet entered the bed to give his wife a kiss. She stood and walked to the other end of the room.

“No, Paunet, life hasn’t always been wonderful and exciting with you. If father hadn’t forced me to marry you, I’d have cast you aside at first glance. But we have a comfortable and safe life.”

Paula made her final attempt, crying, craning her head as if to pray to god. “Stay. I’d rather see you alive than dead.”

Maybe, on a different night, this would’ve been the dagger. Paunet would have put this wild and risky plan out of his head. He’d have hugged his wife, moved to a different island that was more lively, and made something more of their family and comfortable life.

But this night Paunet only felt the winds of adventure and smelled the scent of fresh gunpowder.

“And I don’t see the point of life if you can’t really live. If you haven’t lived to the fullest extent.”

Paula let him go. She sniffed and sprinted to another corner of the room.

“Then I want you to leave everything to me. Give everything you own to me and your daughter. It’s the least you could do.”

“Whatever you want, dear.”

Paula pushed an empty parchment below his beak. She’d prepared this, even though Paunet felt his wife had held the faintest hope he’d change his mind. This parchment looked familiar. He felt its texture—where did he feel this before?

As he signed a form that would give all his fortune and lands to Paula, he realized why it was familiar.

She had written that message.

She had broken into the ship hall and placed the threat.

She probably hoped to scare him. If he believed enemies were out there eager to kill him, he’d probably drop the entire project.

She didn’t understand that the threat had actually helped his gold and his desire to seek adventure. What was more interesting than a mystery in your backyard? Than someone so afraid of you that they have to threaten you?

“The war is really over,” Paunet whispered, “isn’t it?”

Paula nodded.

“But that means … that the parrot didn’t … and so Pi didn’t …” Paunet mumbled, as he sorted his thoughts.

Paula kept nodding. “When I noticed my threats didn’t hurt you in any way, I stopped.”

Paunet grinned and gave his wife a final kiss. To the surprise of both, this was the first passionate and sincere kiss in years. “Burglary. Treachery. Dropping swords. Dear, this is the most exciting thing you’ve ever done!”

His wife smile weakly. Her heart wasn’t ready yet, but may this was the best for both.

All of Barbala had gathered their best clothes, their tastiest coconuts, and assembled on the beach. Cheering and clapping they accompanied Paunet’s ship, as it rolled off the logs, got stuck in the sand, but eventually reached the sea without too much hassle.

The first test was passed: the monstrous ship floated. Several bets about how long The Dragonth would last could already be thrown in the garbage.

Paunet waved at everyone. He grabbed the rope to hoist himself onto the ship, when the President appeared. He carried a flag: bright blue, containing the royal symbol of Casbrita.

Not everyone cheered. The Brita had conquered Barbala a while ago with violence and threats, turning it into a colony of theirs. The natives were still the largest part of the population. Hares such as the president did not even naturally appear on Barbala at all.

Paunet accepted the flag with a glimmer in his eyes and a spring in his step.

“We might not have always seen eye to eye,” the President said cautiously. “And you’ve wasted so much gold that we’ll feel the emptiness of our coffers for years.”

The beach laughed. The President shook his head and studied The Dragonth with admiration. More than fifty cannons. Beautifully painted sails on every mast and flames all along the hull, scratched into dark brown wood.

“But you’ve built the largest ship I’ve ever seen. I’ve let the king know that you’re an official member of the fleet. Make us proud, weird peacock. Make this flag proud. Make your homeland proud.”

Paunted rolled up the flag and stuck it under his armpit, so that he was free to give the president a sincere hug. His crew already prepared the ship behind him.

He suspected this was his wife’s doing. Most of his crew members had arrived from different islands and just “happened” to be here when he needed them. They held themselves well and were more skilled than the crew he had assembled himself. Paula’s last attempt to keep him alive.

“Goodbye!” Paunet yelled ceremoniously. He took off his black hat to wave at everyone.

He looked for his wife in the crowd, but she hadn’t come. As he stood on the bow, he could see more of the island, even as far as their estate in the east. That’s where he found his family standing on the front porch, watching him go.

His daughter waved absently. He blew her a kiss.

The ship moved. Slowly the beach let them go. The crew worked on their own, without any commands from Paunet. That was fine, said he. He didn’t know any commands.

He ripped the king’s flag to pieces and pushed it into a random barrel.

He walked to his own room, below deck, and grabbed a different flag. One that surely didn’t glimmer and shine with bright colors and pride. One that was black and had a skull.

Below the main mast, he attached the flag to a thin wire. By pulling on the other end, the flag would surely be dragged upwards, to the highest point of the entire massive ship.

The beach fell silent.

His own crew had expected it; Paula knew him better than he gave her credit for.

He used his beak to dislodge a few letters on the side of the ship, and brought back a few letters from the old name that he’d stowed away. Not long after, his ship had a new name: The Wrath.

“Filthy scummerbag!” the President yelled.

Paunet could barely hear it, for he was long gone. All the “ooh” and “aah” sounds from the beach were merely an angelic choir to his ears.

He smiled, flew to the flag, and spread his wings wide.

As if he would ever work for that boring king. As if he would do what was expected of him any longer. As if he sought the ocean for its peace.

A new buccaneer had entered the stage. One with the largest and most expensive ship ever built. And a loud scream, in his heart, demanding danger and battle and adventure.

Now Paunet only had to learn how to steer a ship.

Pi increasingly saw the advantages of being an innocent fishing boat. Yes, they traveled incredibly slowly. But they were also impossible to find on the wide ocean. They must have spread the warning posters with his face all over Origina. Everyone was looking for Pi—nobody could find him.

He sailed over the Midterra Sea, which was cold this time of year and an unpleasant place to be stuck on a ship. They were also unfortunate: the Ancient Turtle had recently resurfaced and blocked the ocean for many miles, forcing them to take a wider route.

After many weeks of travel they finally neared the Apire. Placed on the north-west tip of Origina, it was most recognizable by the tall trees and even taller buildings.

The idea of giving up and returning to the Apire was pressing. His family would accept him, sure, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. You had one chance to become a hero for your homeland, and you’d waste it? Pi shivered at the thought.

They sailed on and reached the Dolphin Pass. Once upon a time, this place bustled with activity. Ships moving from Origina to Aprania, or Origina to Garda, and back of course. They traded everything you could possibly trade. When the Seafarers came and told everyone there were even more islands out there than they knew, sea trade became the most important thing on Somnia.

Then the sea bandits came, the buccaneers, and it all stopped. The more valuable your ship, the better your trade, the more likely you were to be plundered and killed. It wasn’t worth it. And the enemy dared call him a bandit?

Only the richest empires, like Casbrita, owned a fleet strong enough to protect their most valuable ships. That had been Pi’s job for years, using the Adventure Galley.

The empires liked to sail tot he Caribean and back again, but never across the Dolphin Pass. Because the Council of Kame was there, and it was regularly called the breeding ground for all that’s dark.

And now his crew counted just three: him, Thorngold and Karlos. The longer the cat was out of water, the more Karlos returned to being his old self. There was something in the water here—a curse, a gift, he didn’t know—but maybe he could use it.

“Karlos,” said Pi. “What can you tell me about that curse? What happened to you since you fell in the water? Tell me all.”

“I already did, captain.”

Pi sighed. “We must … in some way or another … conquer the Council of Kame against at least twenty sea bandits. Does the water have magic? Can we use that?”

“Oh, for sure.” Karlos plucked something from his teeth and studied his reflection in the water. “You do know why it’s called the Dolphin Pass, right?”

“This was Gulvi’s throne, godchild of water and oceans, in the form of a dolphin. Maybe it’s still his throne.”

“The curse is surely some godly magic. A magic flow that seems to go everywhere.”

“But the gods are gone.”

“And what did they leave behind? The Heavenly Objects. Every god had their own magical object which was so strong they couldn’t always have it on them. Many think these objects still exist, spread across Somnia.”

Pi dug into his memory. The lessons of his youth returned to him, when he dreamed of the sea and life as the “best captain ever”. He’d asked his mentors about the world, magic, ships, Gulvi, until they went insane and asked him to shut up.

But this lesson had always been at the forefront of his mind, for it was about his own ancestor.

Gulvi’s Heavenmatter was the Fartherwater. And it fit Karlos’ description perfectly: it showed you visions of the past … or, sometimes, of the future.

Pi took off his uniform. His thick red shawl, his black hat, the long coat he always wore. Soon he was just an ape in his underwear, standing on a fishing boat. He only kept his belt, holding his weapon and tools.

“Erm, captain,” said Thorngold, his face contorted. “What on Somnia ya be doing?”

“The best way to win this fight, is to know all the future moves of your opponent.”

Pi missed his parrot. He had nobody to explore the area of a battle before entering it now. Where was Widagai? Would he still be searching for him?

The Council of Kame appeared in the distance. It was surrounded by countless ships, in a neat row, ready to defend it against him.

Karlos shrank back. “I’m not entering the water. Not entering the water.”

“I, erm, was made more to stand on a ship,” Thorngold said. “Aye, with a cannon.”

Pi nodded. Then he jumped overboard, elegant as a dolphin.

Immediately, he was bombarded with visions. Visions that seemed so real, as if they happened right in front of him, right now, and he’d be able to touch them and influence them. Water and bubbles cooperated to craft powerful illusions left and right.

To his left he spotted a vision from the past: how his ship had been broken into pieces during the attack near Mateshaven.

He shut his eyes. Calm down. Take a breath—no, don’t take a breath under water. When his eyes felt ready to receive more visions, he opened them again.

To his right he saw something that just happened: a very normal day in the fishing boat, as they passed the Apire. Why would the magic show that? It’s not interesting at—

He could influence what he saw.

Future, near future, please.

He felt connected to the Fartherwater, as if he’d always known and understood. It wasn’t a curse to hem; it was coming home.

Future, near future, Council of Kame, how do I win the next fight—give me something.

A new vision flashed through the waves, further away and harder to spot. A monstrous ship added itself to the fight, around sunset. Just like … just like everyone had said who’d touched the curse.

He couldn’t recognize its flag. But a simple bandit who paid for such a large ship? Unlikely.

As a godchild of Gulvi, he’d hoped to be able to stay in the water for longer without breathing. That turned out to be a false hope. He could only see this future vision twice, then he had to return to the surface.

His head swam. His body seemed exhausted, lit and burned until there was nothing left. Still he lingered. He pulled a glass bottle from his belt and tried to catch fragments of the Fartherwater.

Soon after, he broke through the water surface and eagerly gulped for air. First he threw the bottle onto the stern, then he pulled himself back onto the ship.

Thorngold studied him, horn raised. “Hmm. No glassy look. Do you remember your name? What’s ya date of birth? How many horns am I holding—”

“I am fine.” That was a lie. He felt sick in a way he couldn’t explain.

He pointed at a small island just outside the territory of the Council. “We wait there. Near sunset, a ship will appear that is so powerful it should be able to defeat everyone.”

And so they waited.

And they waited even longer.

Several ships were already firing, but never getting even close to them. Warning shots, he thought, or practice shots. Or maybe, for once, he was lucky and their enemies were terrible fighters.

The sun set. The water colored orange, yellow, red.

And then black, because a monstrous ship cast a shadow over it all.

Pi, Thorngold and Karlos secretly pushed their boat alongside, matching its speed. Once close enough, they dug their nails into the expensive wood of the ship’s hull and climbed onto it from the side.

It was called The Wrath. The wrath of the king? The wrath of a buccaneer? Or the wrath of a god?

He received his answer instantly. Hanging from ropes along the edge, they could just about peek onto the deck.

“No, you are the captain.” An ape yelled at a peacock, hands in their hair. “What should we do? What cannons must be loaded? Where should we sail?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know! What do you think that—”

“You’re the captain!”

“Well, then, well, I’d recommend you all read a good book, say I. Something about military strategy or—”

The ape groaned. “We can’t read!”

“Oh, well, not a problem. Tell everyone to come here, I’ll give you an alphabet lesson and—”

“No time!” The ape groaned loudly and tore apart his shirt.

“And you were planning on fighting … in these clothes?”

“Commands, captain, commands.”

“Erm, well, then, raise the sails! Port! Starboard! Load all the cannons and—”

Pi took the chance to climb onto the deck and make himself known.

“I hear you are looking for a real captain.”

He started giving commands. The crew looked at Paunet with some sense of loyalty, but the peacock seemed relieved that someone else took over that duty.

They listened to Pi.

Thorngold ran to the nearest free cannon. Karlos sharpened his nails against the mast. Pi had the ship moving at full pace, in the right direction, before the sun had fully set.

They approached the wall of ships. They were already in frighteningly close range.

But they didn’t attack.

They were fighting other ships closer to the Council. That’s what you get with bandits, thought a smiling Pi, they betray each other over nothing.

He could sink two entire ships before the others noticed and turned around. That’s when Pi noticed his monstrous ship might have looked great … but wasn’t really functional from the inside. Several cannons fell apart at the first touch. Several wooden planks just fell off and slid into the sea.

Pi glared at the peacock in his gown. He crossed his wings.

“The President refused to give me enough gold for a finished ship! Not my fault, say I!”

The more he shot, the faster they sailed, the more parts imploded, bend or outright broke.

The battle field used to be orderly—now it was chaos.

All ships chose a different direction. Attacking the nearest enemy, whoever they were, in whatever state they were, was the only strategy.

The Wrath had to accept several cannonballs before Pi realized another advantage: their cannons shot further than all the others.

He turned around and modified the plan. His ship stayed out of range of everyone else, then merrily shot the two nearest ships to the bottom of the sea.

Pi screamed. The crew screamed. Thorngold fired his cannon, again, and again, until his explosions where brighter than the star-filled sky. Other ships didn’t navigate by star, no, they navigated by the light of Thorngold’s terror of fire.

Pi gave his commands with ease. The line had been broken; they could now move directly into the heart of the Council. Even when ships tried to circle and enclose them, they could still move faster, stay out of range, and just blast them all to pieces. Even though one of the masts broke into two and Pi, in his excitement, broke several spokes of the rudder.

He fought for the king, he told himself with every ship he destroyed absolutely. His goal was not death and destruction—his goal was conquering the Council, spare everyone who surrendered, and turn that place into a legal and well-faring colony.

The Wrath cut through the masses, like a sword perfectly aligned to slice the Council’s core. Wreckage drifted on the waves like ten newborn islands. Enemy ships mixed with parts from his own ship, most of them broken of their own accord. A part of the enemy fleet’s crew had drowned; most of them survived by holding onto other ships or even climbing on board.

Two impressive ships were brave enough to chase them down, but even they were too slow. Pi walked to Thorngold to tell him to aim at their pursuers at all times. Just to be sure.

But the peacock, the actual captain, grabbed his wrist with surprising force.

“Thanks for the aid, I say. But, erm, two matters. When this battle is over, I am captain again. And … what on Somnia do you think you’re doing?”

“Pardon me?”

“Are you not Pi? Highest ranking captain in the royal fleet of Casbrita?”

“Aye. And we’re freeing the Council from all the scummerbags that—”

“On what ship do you think you’re standing?”

A parrot landed on his shoulder. One with a wooden leg.

“Pi!” Widagai yelled out of breath. “The war is over!”

The war … is over?

He looked up. It was hard to see, in the dark of night and through the fog of gunpowder and wood flakes, but The Wrath had the flag of a buccaneer.

He looked to the side. Really looked, as he shook out of his daze. All the ships he’d sunk wore the same glimmering blue flag holding the symbol of the king.

All the buccaneers had left him alone and just watched from the sidelines as he … as he …

But then … but then …

Casbrita had visited the Council themselves to conquer it with twenty strong ships. They would have won … if Pi hadn’t come along and absolutely decimated the entire fleet of Casbrita.

The war has been over for months.

Because of his bad luck, the message had never been able to reach him. He had kept fighting in all those places—Smalljourn, Mateshaven, Lovelily—that were actually at peace with the empire.

All that time, he’d attacked innocent animals in peaceful villages. Because he thought they were still at war, and because he’d received a command from his leader. That’s why they called him a cruel bandit.

But even if we were still at war, he realized. Does that suddenly make it less cruel?

The final Casbrita ships fled. The sea bandits cheered and let Pi dock at the Council harbor, with whatever was left of The Wrath. The Council had been definitively defended in the largest sea battle it had ever seen. A battle that would become known around the world as the Raid of Pi.

They also gave the council a new name.

“Council of Pi!”

“Council of Pi!”

“Council of Pi!”

His dream had come true.

He was a hero—just in the eyes of the wrong group.

In every journey, dear reader, there comes a point when there’s no way back. One mistake can be forgiven. Multiple mistakes can be made right. But both our characters, Pi and Paunet, had months to change their mind and still made a different choice.

And now they were buccaneers, whether they wanted it or not. The Raid of Pi became legendary, a warning tale told to children all over Somnia, until the words merged. Sea bandits would be called Pirates from now on.

The Golden Age of Piracy had arrived.

Casbrita, like most empires, had issued an official pardon. Any pirate who returned home and surrendered, would be given back their freedom. No punishment, no consequences. It might have been out of the kindness of their heart, but they mostly wanted back their ships, and they wanted to stop losing money and men on fighting.

Pi thought about coming home, until he discovered that the pardon had made an exception especially for him.

Any pirate had a chance to return to an honest life, apparently—all except for him.

The world saw him as a cruel Pirate. And he agreed: he’d attacked places and beings without good reason, even without giving them a chance to defend themselves.

The pirates, on the other hand, saw him as their Pirate Captain. The best to ever do it. Most pirates could only fight or fire cannons, but Pi was clever and experienced in all sorts of things. He inspired animals around the world to become a pirate, no matter how much he tried not to.

He’d let Paunet and his impressive ship go. He knew they’d be hunted by Casbrita now until they were destroyed. Without him, the odd peacock wouldn’t have survived a day. But simply by association—the peacock that helped Pi—he also became a legendary pirate now.

He wanted nothing of it.

The other pirates had given him endless gold, treasures and other gifts.

He wanted nothing of that too.

Piles of gold would just make everyone suspicious of him, even if he changed his face. If he bought a home in Casbrita with a million Soliduri, the police would arrest him the next day. He was rich, but couldn’t actually use that money. Nor did he care.

Only one thing remained.

Under cover of dark he fled the Council of Pi. Near Caribean, he discovered an island that wasn’t on any map he’d ever seen. Uninhabited, undiscovered. He called it Gardenhill.

He put all his gold and possessions into multiple treasure chests and hid them all over the island. His bottle of Fartherwater was hidden in the biggest chest with the strongest lock. Not long after, a small cottage appeared on the island, with a well-tended garden around it. In a few years time, he’d have a nice mansion here that would allow him to grow old in peace.

Large parts of the Caribean had declared themselves to be part of a new territory: Pirate Republic. No King would ever rule them, no President or Council. Nobody ruled anybody here and the pirates did as they pleased.

Only one island remained independent: Barbala. It had fought with so much passion, led by some peacocks, that no pirate ever set foot there. It was a true mystery where such immense hatred for pirates could’ve come from …

So Pi sent a message. Asking permission to dock there. Asking if his wife could come too. He was desperate to see her again. Owning an island and piles of gold meant nothing without the warmth of his family. He asked if he was allowed to give a speech claiming why he would still like to receive a pardon and live an honorable life again.

Barbala allowed it.

As he left for Barbala in a small fishing boat, he prepared his speech. The exact words he needed. To convince everyone the cruel things they said were true … but also not.

Along the way he was frequently attacked by pirates. He estimated there were ten times as many pirates as there were fishermen in these waters. The only reason he reached Barbala at all was because they recognized him and then left him alone. He was scared to death of meeting his old crew that he abandoned; they’d offer him no mercy.

Once he’d arrived at Barbala harbor, he could hear the whispers all around. About the cruel pirate he was. About how this confirmed that demigods were evil creatures that should be removed from the world. How women and children ran away when they saw his face.

If he hadn’t met some kind, familiar faces, he might have turned around and left.

Thorngold, Karlos and Widagai spied on someone from behind a palm tree. The rhino had decided to permanently strap his beloved cannon to his large back. He nudged Pi’s shoulder with force.

“Aye, Pi, mate! We thought ya gave up pirate’s life.”

“Don’t talk so loud,” Pi hissed.

“We found a promising pupil, aye. I’m mentoring him. Karlos is convincing him to become a pirate. They already call ’em Blackbeard. The Casbrita are building the largest boat ever and he’s planning to steal it immediately.”

Pi shook his head. There’s always a bigger boat, and that will never change.

“I am no pirate. Don’t bother me again with this. I only fight for one goal now: get that pardon and reunite with my family.”

He crossed the square, head held high, on his way to meet someone called Paula. That family member of the President was selected, for some reason, to judge his case. His future and family were in her hands.

He only wished she had a sliver of mercy left to give to a so-called pirate.

And so it was that life continued …