[Saga] [Part 1] Enter the Red Cap Pirates!

‘Mustardseed’ flinched when ‘Oberon’ forbade her from saluting. Ah, she forgot! She was not Yumiko right now. Nay, she was supposed to be a pirate, cruel and crude. With a hasty nod she tried to correct herself. “Erm, aye aye mas-captain. Yarr.” Even her acting came off as stiff and unnatural.

She truly despised lying...

Fortunately, the surrounding foes seemed to buy the excuse. Murmuring in understanding, they gave the weird woman some space. There were all sorts of sad oddballs in the world. What was one more?

The swordwoman’s shoulders heaved and head drooped with a solemn sigh. She cast a quizzical towards Sir An-uh... Puck. “Y-yes... I... understand...” Giving back only a weak whisper, she looked around hesitantly. Her hand instinctively reached for her waist... only to find nothing there.

Right... Mustardseed didn’t wield a katana...

Splitting off from the group, the anxious wreck slipped into the crowd. Strange, new sensations assaulted her sharp senses. Scents, sounds, sights... Wait, something smelled familiar. She sniffed the air tentatively. Yes, there was no mistaking the sting of this intoxicating, dizzying scent.

‘Mustardseed’ followed her nose, while keeping an eye on her surroundings. Her keen gaze sought out potential escape routes, but everything looked too risky. It felt like traversing through the den of wild beasts. Honestly, she would’ve preferred beasts to this... Predators were open with their intentions. Pirates would sometimes pretend to be friendly before trying to kill you.

Lost in thought, the swordswoman accidentally bumped into someone. Or something. Her skull rang with a metallic clang as she staggered back. “Ow...” Holding her head, she paused and looked up at the towering shadow before her.

Standing taller than most men, an armored warrior blocked her path. Thick steel plates covered the massive torso and powerful limbs. The bulky helmet’s red visor gleamed in the light, hiding the stranger’s identity.

The Marine gawked at the figure. “Y-you are...” She quickly caught herself and bowed her head. “My apologies. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Please excuse mine rude blunder.” She hurriedly stepped past the mountain of metal and vanished into the crowd.

Meanwhile, a short man in similar armor glanced after the fleeing stranger. His helmet, however, was simply an upturned bucket with eyeholes. “What’s wrong, Commander? Someone you know?” His question was met with a deep rumble echoing against cold metal.

“Is of nothing. We go.”

With a slow, rhythmic march of heavy footsteps, the armored stranger headed towards the pavilion. A squadron of imposing and equally fortified men followed along. Their chests all shared the same insignia: a sea urchin with a knight helmet.

The wounded woman tried to calm her hammering heart. Close, much too close. From that point onward, she stalked between the stalls, shying away from everyone. Her nose still twitched, as a familiar scent called to her. It promised courage and safety... With just a sip.

Little did the weasel realize that her nose was leading her towards an incredibly popular location. As she got closer, she found herself walking past people holding frothing mugs. After all, what kind of pirate would say no to grabbing a drink?

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-----@^@-----

Booze brought people together. That’s why the beer tent was the place to be right now. A colorful crowd filled every corner. Ale flowed like golden rivers from the mugs to mouths. A chorus of jolly laughter accompanied every good quip and funny tale.

Despite staring for several minutes now, ‘Mustardseed’ refused to believe her eyes. No, this was not right... They... were acting like regular people. But she knew their real nature. Behind every smile was a cold-blooded criminal.

The wounded woman gritted her teeth. Her hands balled up into fists. Because of their twisted, cruel behavior, honest civilians suffered. Somewhere a young child lost a parent over a couple of coins. Elsewhere, an elderly person was too afraid to sleep at night. So why...? How could these wretches be this carefree?

However, the toxic thinking was suddenly cut short. The weasel woman flinched. A crude shout pierced her skull like a harpoon. Collapsing onto her knees, she clutched her ears. Someone noticed her blight and knelt beside her. He asked something, but the words couldn’t reach her ringing mind.

Hastily, ‘Mustardseed’ scampered back onto her feet. Excusing herself, she slipped through the parting crowd like a fish escaping into a wave. She had to stay moving. Her plan was short and simple... First she had to get a sip of liquid courage, then she would continue charting this island.

Unfortunately, the overly-honest warrior was not ready for the sight that awaited her. Reaching the edge of the crowd, she spotted some familiar faces. A painful shock shot through her mind when she saw them being friendly with a pirate. “Master...? Sir Ayugai...? No... This cannot be...” She muttered softly beneath her breath. It was just for the sake of the mission, she tried to assure herself.

Yet the painful shock still lingered...

Reminiscent of a predator stalking through a thick forest, the weasel woman hid in the crowd. She didn’t want to be spotted by her allies like this. Not here. Slowly she slipped closer to the counter. Just one drink... Then she would go... One drink would be enough...

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‘Mustardseed’s’ hesitation was promptly shattered by a voice coming from far too close. Upon feeling a hand on her shoulder, she jumped. Literally. “Eep!” Like a startled stoat, she bounced high enough to hit her head on the tent’s support beam. Luckily, she was too light to bring anything down with her.

Twirling around to face the stranger, the wide-eyed woman reached for a weapon she didn’t have. ...Before finally realizing the stranger was in fact Ryo-erm ‘Oberon’. She still struggled to recognize him in his... costume... Further questions sparked panic in her mind. When? How? She didn’t even smell his approach. Usually his, uh, natural musk was strong enough to overpower other scents.

Maybe it was the lack of hair gel.

By now, several awkwardly silent seconds had passed. Finally the words registered in the pretend pirate’s mind. “O-oh, C-captain... I uh... No, I should not... I was just about to...” Her voice wavered, as she desperately tried to do the impossible. She was trying to lie. To come up with an excuse not to go. And she was failing miserably.

With slow, hesitant steps, the jumpy woman started backing away. “I must go... scout and-” Unfortunately, she bumped right into someone. A huge, muscular arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Oi, you ain’t going anywhere...” A massive, bald man with a ripped vest and bushy beard leaned closer. Much... too... close. His big grin was missing several teeth and his breath stank of cheap ale.

“...without a drink.”

The tension popped like a soap bubble. Radiating jolly, drunken friendliness, the big man tried to pull the Fairy King along as well. “You too, buddy. My treat.” His path led directly to the bar counter, with or without Oberon. He slammed a hefty palm against the countertop, making the other people’s pints clatter. “Oi, three beers for me and my new friends~!”

While the bartender worked his magic, the big, drunken oaf turned to the gaunt mohawk menace. “Oi, boss! Look, look! I made new friends!” He sounded so very proud of himself. His excitement made him seem like an overgrown puppy.

‘Mustardseed’, meanwhile, didn’t quite see it that way. Trapped. With no way out. She tried and failed to regain her personal space. Her desperate eyes darted around, a soundless cry for help. When wriggling proved fruitless, her hand twitched... scratched against the countertop... Slowly her nails grew longer and longer, beginning to resemble scythe blades...

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Nothing was okay. Everything about this was wrong. Instead of arresting these wicked criminals, the warrior was forced to play pretend among them. This was a farce. An insult to everything she believed. It gnawed at her dwindling sanity.

The boxer’s words barely registered in the swordwoman’s mind. She glanced at him. Or past him rather. Her hollow gaze wandered on the enemies all around them. And they were enemies. Nothing more, nothing less. One wrong move and every last one of them would’ve turned against her comrades. That’s all it would take...

Just one... wrong... move...

Fortunately for everyone involved, the announcement pierced through even the thickest panic. ‘Mustardseed’ snapped into full attention and directed her gaze towards the closest loudsnail. Being conditioned to focus fully on instructions came in handy.

‘Mustardseed’ stiffened like a statue, when she felt another hand on her shoulder. Her wide-eyed stare found a mushroom-, oh wait, her disguised comrade. She glanced between ‘Puck’ and ‘Oberon’ warily. Finally, her head drooped and gaze fell to the floor. “I am sorry... for being this weak...” She mumbled remorsefully. Shame burned hot in her heart.

As the wounded woman regained her grip, her sharp claws retracted. Swordsteel shifted back into regular fingers. A close call indeed. Any further and someone might have noticed... Or worse, started asking awkward questions.

With a deep breath and great reluctance, the warrior stepped closer to her allies. She was ready to follow wherever her captain or... erm... her ‘captain’ would lead her. To the pavilion, most likely. In all honesty, she didn’t want to go. It was the reason why she had excused herself earlier.

But this time she had no choice.

As the group headed for the pavilion, ‘Mustardseed’ voiced a quiet question. “How... do thou do it...?” It was meant for both of them, yet at the same time, to no one in particular. Her words drifted in a breeze that seemed to come from nowhere. “How do thou stay so calm among these violent beasts?” Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing, trying to understand.

“Why do thou fit in so well?”

The overly honest woman still couldn’t wash a particular image from her mind. She had seen her master being friendly with a frightening pirate. Likewise, the comrade closest to her rank didn’t seem the slightest bit worried. They were all swimming with the sharks, yet neither showed any signs of fear.

What manner of masterful mental technique did they employ...?

Could she learn such secrets too...?

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-----@^@-----

Uncertainty clung to the Marine’s mind like a veil of fog. At first, she thought she understood. Duty. Of course. The man was so dedicated to his duty that he was willing to abandon even the sense of his true self. Truly admirable.

However, when Ryoichi spoke the unspeakable, Yumiko’s expression darkened. Her mouth twisted into a deep, thoughtful frown, while her eyes stared into the distance. ‘Not... inherently... bad...?’ Complicated thoughts swirled around her head like indecipherable symbols. Anton’s addition didn’t help, not one bit. ‘People... just as... we are...?’ These claims were strange, nay, outright impossible.

Stewing in doubts, the worried weasel took a seat alongside her allies. She found herself inadvertently bracing for each introduction, expecting worse and worse monsters each time. One in particular slashed deep into her soul. “Lady Eiserne...” A solemn whisper of careless familiarity slipped from her lips.

Shaking the doubs away proved fruitless. Even as the festivities officially began and the feast was brought in, the confused woman was no closer to any sort of resolution. Her teachings clashed violently against what she was seeing. And what had Master meant by his question...? Why did people become pirates? Was it not their hunger for riches, glory and simple bloodshed?

As the torn warrior pondered, shadows rose from the corners of his mind. Grinning and giggling, they drew closer to her soul. Wicked whispers filled her head. Idiot... Failure... Coward... They taunted her. Yet in the same breath, they promised a way out. She just had to cleanse this filthy place...

Tear it all down and scatter it into the wind!

Without a word, ‘Mustardseed’ rose from her seat and stepped away from her comrades. Her foggy eyes scanned her surroundings, until stopping on a stone pillar. She brushed her hand gently against the cold surface. Sturdy, solid... Yes, this would do.

-WHAM!-

A couple of seconds later, a hefty thud accompanied by a nasty cracking sound shook the scene. Soon the quiet woman returned to her seat. A crimson stain on her forehead slowly trickled onto her features. The foggy uncertainty was gone from her gaze, replaced by steely resolve.

But this wasn’t enough... It had merely silenced them...

Naturally, the oddball offered no explanation to her allies. Rather, she grabbed the closest pint of ale and downed it in one gulp. Her shoulders heaved with a deep sigh. No, this still wasn’t enough... They knew how to swim... So she grabbed another equally large pint. Down the hatch it went, with a motion she had practiced more than was healthy.

Several minutes and half a dozen drinks later, the weasel woman finally felt like she had washed away her doubts. A pink blush painted her features. The stench of ale lingered in her breath. Her head was spinning... Strange warmth filled her chest... It felt... nice.

Yes, this was enough.

...Well, maybe one more.

The unsteady mess glanced at her allies. Briefly she wondered when all of them had gotten an identical twin. “Hey... hey... Passh... passh me one more...” She slurred, gesturing at the full pints. Her arm flopped weakly towards their direction. So close... Yet so far.

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