CHAPTER 1: INTRO

Duranté is the name of the senior Emperor, King Captain Butezda. I was aboard my ship, Maroontov, about age 16. I grew up on her, from age 4.

I know how to stitch sails, do carpentry, tie ropes, and navigate to sustain my livelihood aboard a ship. I climb the mast like a cat, my senses for living on the ocean have mastered ship life from having lived it for so long.

Short back story: Pirates took over when I was 6 and appointed me Captain's quarters when I was 13. All in good warmheartedness and humorous speech. I was best at what we did, had a knack for it. I loved living on the ship, it was all I had as my frame of reference.

One usual evening, with waves crashing mellowly against the ship and the familiar ocean breeze blowing gently. I was laying by the stairs on the quarter deck which is where the Captain commands the ship from. It was evening and the sky was clear, full of bright stars. Like a blanket on a glossy night. I couldn't see the horizon, but I knew it was there. With optimism I looked at the sky and thought of my heart and that I'd like to be wedded one day.

My heart longed for a girl that I had never met. I thought of her, this girl in some faraway land.

I could see her in my mind's eye, about the same age as me, young and beautiful.

I fell in love instantly with the mere thought of her. It awakened a purpose for living within me, a drive to do, a purpose to attain.

With haste, I go down to the Captain's quarters. Kind of like my personal space aboard the ship. I opened the smooth wooden door and entered my chambers.

On the table was a lit candlestick with the navigation papers and some tools for navigating on it, also a few research books and my leather journal.

I grabbed a pen and started writing.

"Dear Mistress of my heart, do you remember, do you recall? This is just the beginning of a never-ending ball; dance with me one day, and dance with me more. Dance our enchanting, dance to my core."

I felt like I was familiar with the vision of her body and wanted to figure out how I felt so familiar with a girl I had never met.

I took the journal and the pen and got on my bed. I glanced out the massive windows full of candles on the windowsill and bats hanging from atop outside, visible and audible in the clear gentle night.

My bedding was red and silky with a chino mattress cover and an orange pillow. It smelled of fever sweet but at the same time clean and like me. On the left across the room was a miniature dark little room that was known as a bathroom with a poop bucket. The wooden floor creaked as the ocean waves rocked the ship.

My dresser was below my bed. I didn't have much clothing, but what I had, I loved. My father's white shirt and my mother's lint bracelet.

I closed my journal and got in bed. Satisfied with the way the evening played out. My pajamas were a white long-john held to my waist with a thin rope.

A faint melody of the girl went through my mind as I drifted to off to sleep. Very pleased indeed.

The morning bell woke me up with its timeless chime. I got out of bed and dressed for the day.

I was quite fit, my six-pack abs cringed to my red shirt as I fixed it by my shoulder. "Time to go," I thought to myself as I pulled on my boots.

"Morning, Chap," a hoarse voice called to me from outside the Captain's cabin.

A short man with a blue shirt greeted me in the morning. He was standing by the door. Hanging on the door frame.

"Lovely weather, ay?" he said. I smelled the fresh ocean air and stepped outside with him. It had a small corridor that led to wooden steps that led to the ship's main deck. As I reached the deck, I saw what he was mentioning. A clear blue sky with soft, thin white clouds and a cool breeze brushed my cheek and neck. I felt the cool air go up my shirt as it tugged at my clothing.

'What a lovely day indeed.' I thought pleasantly to myself.

"Hoist the sails!" A tall man with Dutch buckled shoes said firmly. "Clean the deck, captain's here."

All the men attended to their duties on instant without even second guessing the command.

The tall man with the Dutch shoes' name was Raelph. And the short stub man with the blue shirt, who fetched me from my quarter's name was Pob. They're both blonde-haired haired Pob is a little bit more yellow-blonde than Raelph.

"Where we headin Cap'ain?" asked a short little coloured boy with soft smooth brown hair and green eyes.

"Hmmm, I say Thaose" I replied.

"Hoist for Thaose"; "Hoist for Thaose", "Hoist for Thaose" the chain of say so whispers go.

We sailed as fast as the wind could carry us, with a pleasant and adventurous, mischievous melody chiming through the bent wood of our ship.

Our pirate flag flapping a clap as we roll over the mellow ocean waves.

Everyone was attending to their own business.

Peaceful and calm.

The sun was just above the Horizon when we reached Thaose. It's a specific beach on the west coast of South Africa, close to Golden Horn.

The men and I were starving and somewhat exhausted from our day's sailing.

We decided in unison to lay anchor. Some men were so hungry they couldn't even respond; sighs of agreement were all that left them as they sat down by the ship's wooden railing. Known to us as the border.

Our chef left the crow's nest, stepping down the ladder like a cat and spider hybrid. And into below deck, he went. Eagerly.

We waited for about an hour and 14 minutes when the whistle blew.

Everyone stepped down to the kitchen in a row with their cutlery at hand.

I looked over at the Horizon once more just as the sun was setting, and the clinging of metal cutlery scraping at their pots made my stomach feel very loved. 'A good day's sail.'

Everyone had a spot on the ship where they enjoyed eating. I waited for my scoop of tomato soup and grabbed a bun of bread, and left for the little chair under the steps just outside my cabin.

The men slept in hammocks below the deck, and some had nest beds by the bottom deck. Those were pirates with a lot of cargo.

It wasn't long before we all started settling in for the evening. Only a handful of guys decided to go drinking on the gun deck by the stairs leading to the quarter deck. This was a common occurrence. Drinks after "work". Some, I guess, considered it like happy hour, even though it usually went on till very late, even at times, early morning.

A few musicians were playing their tunes from their hammocks, and the day was surprisingly successful.

Tomorrow, we'll be going to shore, shovel at hand, inland for some resources and what knots. I hope to stock up for another three 3months' sailing.

The thought of the girl flashed through my mind again. I could have sworn she said something.