Chapter 23 – After the Fire Fades (1511)

Three days after they left Mad Hat Island.

Their small boat drifted quietly across the waters of West Blue. The sea breeze carried a salty chill, brushing their skin like a reminder—they were still alive, even after walking out of hell not long ago.

Arthur sat leaning against the mast, knees drawn to his chest. The sky was tinted orange, the sun beginning to sink into the horizon.

"So…" his voice broke the silence. "Where are we going now?"

Lazhar sat calmly on the deck, as composed as ever. He unrolled a worn map, its colors faded, and pointed to a tiny, unnamed speck in the far west corner.

"Ovelia Island," he said shortly.

"Ovelia?" Arthur frowned. "Lame name."

"The place is nice. Quiet. Safe. Not many people know about it, and no one cares."

"So we're hiding?" Arthur asked with a hint of frustration.

"We're surviving," Lazhar replied, sharp. "And you two will train. Harder than ever."

Bastien, seated near the stern, stayed silent. His eyes were vacant, but his hands were busy tying knots with a length of rope. His heart still weighed heavy with what they had left behind.

Suddenly, the flap of wings echoed in the quiet. A news bird landed on the mast, a bundle of newspapers tied to its leg.

Lazhar tossed a few coins, and Bastien took the paper.

Silence.

Only the soft crinkle of pages being unfolded.

Bastien read quietly, "TRAGEDY IN MAD HAT: CRIMINAL ISLAND DESTROYED IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE."

Arthur leaned in. "Sounds like they made it heroic. That's insane."

Bastien flipped through the pages. There were photos: the city's ruins, broken ships, bodies covered in cloth. And one prominent image—a woman standing tall in a white uniform, a long sword on her back. Her hair was shiny black, her eyes sharp and unflinching.

"She… who is she?" Arthur asked, holding his breath.

Lazhar stepped closer, his expression growing colder. "Gion. Rear Admiral. Known as Momosagi."

"She's the one who destroyed Mad Hat?"

"She also saved the slaves," Lazhar added.

Bastien bit his lip. "That little girl… the one from the auction house… maybe she was rescued too?"

Arthur nodded slowly. "The one with brown hair. Scarred face."

"She was angry," Bastien murmured. "So angry."

"If she survived… then what?" Arthur asked, turning to Bastien. "Do we look for her?"

"I don't even know her name," Bastien whispered. "But… I can't stop thinking about her."

Lazhar stayed quiet for a moment, then said flatly, "If she's still alive, this world will change her. Just like it's changing you. Just like it changed me."

Bastien clenched the newspaper tightly, then folded it with care.

"If we ever meet again… I want to know who she really is."

"And if she becomes an enemy?" Arthur asked.

Bastien gazed out at the open sea. "Then we'll see."

Twilight fell slowly. Waves lapped gently at the hull. Their journey wasn't over—just beginning.

---

Night crept in. The small boat glided slowly with the current, guided by the wind and the faint hope hidden beyond the horizon.

Arthur sat beside Bastien, resting his head on his friend's shoulder. "You think we'll find peace on that island?"

"Peace, yeah," Bastien replied. "But peace doesn't mean safety. And it doesn't mean we stop."

"Stop what?"

"Getting stronger."

Lazhar nodded from the front, his voice calm, carrying the weight of many years. "You've just taken your first step as a free man, Bastien. But freedom… comes with a price."

Bastien looked up at the sky. "I'll pay it."

Silence returned to the night, accompanied only by the wind and the ever-whispering sea.

---

POV: Elyndra

Meanwhile, far away at a temporary Navy outpost, a massive warship lay docked on a neutral island near the waters of West Blue.

Elyndra sat in the medical bay. Her body wrapped in bandages, but her eyes showed no weakness. She stared blankly ahead—no tears, no words.

Until the door opened. A tall woman in a crisp white uniform entered, her steps elegant but strong. Her long pink hair flowed, and her golden eyes pierced like blades.

"Your name?" the woman asked.

Elyndra looked up. "I… Elyndra Morgrave."

"A noble name. But the past isn't a place to live."

Elyndra frowned faintly.

"I'm Rear Admiral Gion," she continued. "Starting today, you're my apprentice. You'll learn. Fight. Rise."

"Why me?" Elyndra asked softly.

"Because you didn't cry. You carry vengeance, but you don't let it consume you."

Elyndra looked down. In her heart, the old voices quieted, replaced by a new one—a principle that had begun to take root since the auction house burned, since the pirates died, since justice arrived wrapped in steel.

"To dwell in mistakes is evil."

She repeated it in her mind. Again. And again.

"Alright," she said, steady. "I'll learn. And I'll become stronger."

Gion gave a faint smile. "Then the world will know the name Elyndra Morgrave."

Outside the window, dawn began to peek over the horizon. Two destinies were now in motion—drifting apart.

For now.