Chapter 5 - Isla Rhea

Captain Kinsley's boots crunched on the jagged obsidian shore as he stepped onto the soil of Isla Rhea for the first time in his life. The sirens' song still echoed in his ears, but their warning only made him more resilient, more determined to finish his cause.

His eyes squinted against the sharp glare of the sun reflecting off the sea. The island rose before them like a leviathan from the depths, its lush greenery festooned with the charred scars of ancient dragon fire. Cascading waterfalls carved through the verdant landscape, their mist dancing with the light to create rainbows that seemed almost too delicate for such a savage place.

"Oh, Neppie, it's … stunning," he muttered under his breath, the word barely escaping into the salty breeze.

"Terrifying is more like it," Bonnie countered, her voice a steady presence beside him ash she tried to shake the char off of her leather boots. The 

"Both in equal measure," Kinsley agreed, his gaze tracing the treacherous peaks that clawed at the sky. He could feel the old magic here, Neptune's magic, woven into the very air they breathed, a tapestry of power and peril.

"Cap'n, this cave we're after," Bonnie started, her tone casual but her eyes scanning his face with intent, "is it truly worth the dangers ahead?"

Kinsley's hand instinctively went to the weathered map in his coat, fingers brushing over the lines Neptune himself had inked. "If the stories hold truth, inside that cave slumbers the might that once ruled these seas alongside Neptune."

"Stories," Bonnie echoed, skepticism lacing her words. Her concern was for the crew, for their lives balanced on the knife-edge of their captain's brokenness. 

The more Edward tilted toward his grief, the more the Lioness was swinging in the wrong direction. If the island wasn't rich in spoils, they would have never gone through with coming here.

If only they knew why they were truly here. But her loyalty, unspoken yet resolute, anchored her to his side despite the doubts that clouded her thoughts.

"Bonnie," Kinsley said, turning towards her with a spark of that same fire that burned in the bellies of the dragons of yore, "you know as well as I, some treasures go beyond gold and glory. This," he gestured to the wild expanse before them, "is about legacy. Neptune's... and ours."

"If you think it's worth it," she replied, though her hand rested on the hilt of her sword—a silent vow to follow him into whatever fate awaited them on Isla Rhea.

Edward's jaw clenched, and a vein throbbed at his temple as he turned sharply to face Bonnie. His voice was a whip-crack, slicing through the salt-laden breeze that swept across Isla Rhea's jagged cliffs. "Of course it's worth it," he spat out, his eyes blazing with a fervor that rivaled the mythical flames once breathed by the dragons of the island. "He was worth everything."

She looked past him, toward the verdant valleys that cradled dark secrets beneath their beauty, then back into his stormy gaze. "The crew may be content with the treasures we unearth here," she said, her voice steady but somber, "but I can't reconcile with igniting a conflict with Salacia. Our hands will be stained with more than just dragon's blood."

"Salacia," Edward hissed, the name a curse upon his lips, "she drew first blood when she struck down Neptune." He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him as he stared out over the treacherous terrain. "This war... it was hers from the moment she decided to end him."

The tension hung between them like the thick vines that entwined around ancient ruins scattered throughout the island - reminders of a time when gods meddled in the affairs of mortals, and mortals dared to meddle back.

Edward's hand tightened around the hilt of his cutlass, the metal cool and familiar against his palm. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks filled the silence that stretched between them, nature's own backdrop to their human drama.

"She is the architect of this war," Edward's voice was laced with scorn, a sharp contrast to the rhythmic lapping of the ocean below. His gaze never wavered from Bonnie, who held his stare with an infuriating calmness that seemed to mock the tempest within him.

Bonnie's lips curled into a smirk, as if she could see right through his bluster, straight to the core of his turmoil. "You can't blame her, Edward," she said, her tone light, almost teasing. "You were fucking her husband."

And there it was. A secret laid bare under the harsh light of day. Bonnie's eyes shone with a mix of challenge and pity, and Edward fought the urge to look away, to retreat back into the familiar territory of walking on eggshells and living under the shadow of the Lioness. 

***

A sulfurous mist clung to the ground like a shroud, obscuring the path ahead and making their destination, the volcanic caves, seem like the mouth of the underworld. He could feel the heat emanating from the porous rocks underfoot, a reminder that this island was not just the abode of dragons but also a living, breathing entity of fire and ash.

"Watch your step," Edward murmured, his eyes scanning the treacherous landscape for hidden fissures as they neared the caverns. The porous rock formations twisted upward into jagged spires, standing as silent sentinels guarding the secrets within. Bonnie followed close behind, eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

The entrance to the caves loomed before them, a gaping maw in the mountainside. Stalactites hung like daggers from its lips, framing the abyss with an ominous beauty. They stepped into the shadowy throat of Isla Rhea, the temperature dropping as they left the sun's rays behind. Their lanterns cast dancing shadows against the walls, where molten rock once flowed but now stood frozen in time.

"Edward," Bonnie's voice sliced through the silence, "how do you intend to kill this thing?" 

"Don't you worry," Edward replied, his voice steady, "Neppie would have never sent me into the belly of the beast if he thought I couldn't win." 

His hand subconsciously touched the hilt of his sword, a silent promise to both Bonnie and himself. Neptune's legendary blade was said to be the only weapon capable of felling a dragon, and it hung at Edward's side—a token of trust or perhaps a test.

As they delved deeper into the heart of the cave system, the air grew thick with the scent of brimstone. Edward's boot slipped on a loose stone, but he caught himself against the rough cave wall, his palm scraping against the surface of the cave.

He steadied his breathing, trying to readjust to the rhythm of their cautious advance through the oppressive darkness.

"Edward," Bonnie's voice came again, not with fear now, but with a biting edge that spoke of deep-seated truths held too long between them. "Neptune was a vindictive, petty asshole."

His gaze snapped to Bonnie, hard and cold as the ancient rock surrounding them. In the dim flicker of the lantern light, her face was etched with resolve, unflinching before his reaction.

"It's true," she continued, undeterred by the icy look that could have frozen the very seas Neptune once ruled. "You know it is. I don't think he wanted you to disrespect death, even if it meant letting him—"

"He is not dead!" The words erupted from Edward in a thunderous roar, echoing off the walls and filling the cavern with the sound of his denial. Fury sparked in his eyes, a fire fueled by loyalty and the refusal to accept a world without Neptune's larger-than-life presence. "Not for long, anyway." His voice cracked, hewn by a mixture of anger and a hope so fragile it threatened to crumble under the weight of reality.

Bonnie met his outburst with silence, her expression softening just enough to betray her understanding. 

She had loves, too. Unlike her captain, she let them go a long time ago. 

Gouts of steam hissed from fissures in the cavern walls, the heat intensifying as they descended deeper into the bowels of Isla Rhea. Droplets of sweat beaded on Edward's forehead, trickling down to sting his eyes—tears he would not allow himself to shed for Neptune, not yet.

They edged along a precipice that yawned open beside them, a drop so sheer and deep the bottom was lost in darkness. One misstep could send them plunging into the abyss. Bonnie's hand hovered near her cutlass, her eyes scanning for any sign of movement—her trust in Edward's leadership did not extend to blind faith in the stability of their surroundings.

The further they went, the more the air vibrated with an ominous thrumming, a resonance felt in the chest, a heartbeat of the dragon's lair calling out to them. Edward's pulse matched it beat for beat, the sound fueling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Ahead, the passage narrowed, forcing them to move in single file. It was a natural choke point; should the dragon return, there would be no room to fight, no chance to escape.

"Careful," Edward murmured, more to himself than to Bonnie. The jagged walls seemed to close in around them, sharp stalactites looming like daggers ready to fall at the slightest provocation. The light from their lanterns cast monstrous shadows that danced across the rocks, taunting them with the threat of unseen creatures lurking just beyond sight.

A sudden shift in the air pressure made Edward pause. He held up a hand, signaling Bonnie to stop. They listened intently, the oppressive silence now punctuated by the distant rumble of what could only be the dragon stirring in its lair. With a silent nod, they pressed on, the knowledge that their quarry lay close at hand lending urgency to their steps.

Every breath, every heartbeat brought them closer to the dragon's den, and to whatever fate and Neptune had truly intended for them.

***

Each step was heavy, laden with a purpose that went beyond treasure or glory. Edward's heart hammered against his ribcage—a rhythmic reminder of Neptune's lifeless form waiting to be revived by the magic of a dragon's heart.

The air was thick with the scent of brimstone and ash; a testament to the fire that once roared within these stone walls.

They rounded a jagged corner and there it was—a sight so unexpected that it brought them both to a standstill. Not the fearsome creature they had been tracking, but a pet dragon no larger than a hound dog, its scales glistening like molten rubies in the dim light. It lay curled protectively around the still and silent form of a much larger dragon—the baby's mother, no doubt.

"It's … a baby," Bonnie whispered, holding up a hand to forestall Edward's advance.

The little dragon lifted its head, eyes wide and shimmering, fixing its gaze upon the intruders. It hissed, a sound that was more plaintive than threatening, and puffed out its chest in a futile attempt at intimidation. Its tiny jaws parted, revealing needle-like teeth, but instead of a gout of flame, only a wisp of smoke curled from its maw, dissipating into the damp cave air.

"Easy," Edward murmured instinctively, his pirate's resolve faltering at the sight of such vulnerability. He knew the lore—dragons were fierce, proud creatures—but this small being before him was struggling with a different fight: one of grief and survival. 

The baby dragon's purrs vibrated through the stony ground, a juxtaposition to its earlier show of defiance. It crouched low, wings tucked close, the instincts of self-preservation battling its innate curiosity.

"Captain," Bonnie said, her tone soft but insistent, "we can't..."

Her words trailed off, the unsaid warning clear in her eyes. But Edward already knew—they could not risk Neptune's resurrection on uncertain terms.

Neptune never said anything about a baby! 

With a steely glint in his eye, Captain Edward Kinsley drew his cutlass, the blade a silent whisper as it slid from its leather sheath. His heart thundered against his ribs—a cacophony of grief for Neptune and the desperate hope to bring her back. This creature before him, small and defenseless as it was, held the key to what he desired most. He stepped forward, his resolve as unwavering as the ancient rock beneath their feet.

"Edward, wait!" Bonnie's voice sliced through the tension like a gale through sails.

Her hand latched onto his wrist with surprising strength, halting the descent of the cutlass mere inches from the baby dragon, which cowered under its shadow. Her grip was firm and unyielding, and her gaze bore into him with the authority that came not just from being his first mate, but his closest confidant.

"Ye ken we need to do this right." There was an edge of urgency in her Valorian brogue. "Until we have the witch to guide the ritual, killing this wee beastie could be more than just unsafe—it could be damning."

The words struck true, and Edward's arm dropped to his side, the weight of the cutlass suddenly a burden. His throat tightened with a cocktail of frustration and reluctant agreement. Bonnie was right; they had ventured too far, risked too much to act recklessly now.

As if sensing the reprieve, the baby dragon unfurled itself from its protective ball. With tentative steps, it approached Edward, its movements awkward and curious. The tiny claws pattered against the stone floor, and then, to Edward's astonishment, the dragon clambered up the leather of his boot and perched on his leg, its tail curling around his calf. It stared up at him, those wide eyes holding an intelligence that belied its youth.

A chuckle bubbled up from Bonnie's chest, and a rare smile softened her weathered features. "Seems like we've made a friend, Cap'n."

Edward looked down at the creature, a sense of kinship stirring within him. This dragon, alone and orphaned, mirrored a part of his soul he kept hidden beneath layers of command and bravado—the part that longed for Neptune's return, for completion.

Edward looked down at the creature, a sense of kinship stirring within him. This dragon, alone and orphaned, mirrored a part of his soul he kept hidden beneath layers of command and bravado—the part that longed for Neptune's return, for completion.

"Let's take him with us," Bonnie suggested, still grinning as she watched the unlikely pair.

For a moment, Edward remained silent, considering the ramifications. Then, with a gentle touch, he stroked the soft scales of the dragon's back, feeling the warmth of life beneath his fingertips. His eyes hardened with renewed purpose, and he nodded.

"Yes," he agreed, a plan forming in his mind. "He comes with us."

Together, they would find the witch. Together, they would complete the ritual. And together, they would face whatever fate awaited them beyond the volcanic caverns of Isla Rhea.

*** 

The salt-laden air was thick with the musty scent of adventure as Captain Kinsley issued his last commands to set the Lioness free from Isla Rhea's embrace. His weathered fingers coiled around the helm, poised for the familiar tug of the open sea. Below deck, the muffled stirrings of the crated baby dragon hinted at secrets and untold tales.

First Mate Bonnie checked the riggings, her eyes sharp, missing nothing. Always one to sense trouble before it brewed, she moved with a sailor's grace, her thoughts on the journey ahead. The crew heaved and hoisted with vigor, their muscles well-versed in the art of departure. With a groan of strained ropes and wood, the anchor relinquished its hold on the ocean floor, signaling the start of their voyage.

But as the Lioness began to edge away from the port, Bonnie's gaze sliced through the frothy wake to something unexpected—an anomaly in the rhythm of the waves. Her heart hitched as she discerned the motionless forms of two naked humans, adrift and vulnerable amidst the unforgiving swells.

"Man overboard!" she cried without hesitation, the urgency in her voice slicing through the din of departure like a blade.

The crew snapped into action, their jovial banter silenced by the gravity of the situation. They worked swiftly, casting ropes and nets with the precision borne of countless rescues. The bodies were hauled aboard with care, laid upon the deck like offerings to the ship herself.

Bonnie knelt beside them, her practiced hands moving over the man's chest, pushing rhythmically in an attempt to coax life back into waterlogged lungs. Beside her, Captain Kinsley took over for the girl, his usually stern features softened by a touch of concern that only the most dire of circumstances could elicit.

Water sputtered from the girl's mouth, a cough wracking her frame as she gasped back to the realm of the living. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing irises of a startling azure that mirrored the ocean's depths. To Bonnie, she seemed an ethereal creature, her beauty both otherworldly and mesmerizing.

Yet, the man with hair like spun gold lay still, his face hauntingly serene as if locked in an eternal slumber. Despite their best efforts, his chest remained dreadfully still, the silence of his lungs belying the chaos that had erupted moments before.

Bonnie's brows furrowed in determination, unwilling to accept defeat. She redoubled her efforts, her own breath coming in short bursts as she willed life into the stranger. Captain Kinsley looked on, the lines on his face deepening with each passing second. He knew the sea was a fickle mistress—often giving and taking without warning or reason. But on his ship, they fought for every soul, even those cast unexpectedly into their care.

Bonnie's hands stilled upon the golden-haired man's chest, her gaze caught by the stirring of his sister. The girl's lips parted, a raspy whisper cutting through the salt-laden air. "Milada," she said, her voice gaining strength, "I am Milada. Please, he is my brother; you must save him."

The plea was a catalyst, igniting a fierce resolve in Bonnie's heart. She glanced at Captain Kinsley, finding a silent accord in his steady eyes.

Bonnie's fingers pressed against the man's neck, searching for the elusive flutter of a pulse, her other hand ready to resume the life-giving compressions.

"Milada," she echoed softly, committing the name to memory as she worked. Her actions became precise, almost mechanical, yet each movement carried the weight of her growing determination to defy death on her watch.

"Tell me how to help him," Bonnie urged, her focus never wavering from the task at hand. Though her voice remained calm, a tempest of hope and fear churned within her, mirroring the restless ocean that cradled their ship.