Epilogue: The Calm Before The Storm

[Airan]

Soft light poured through the single, tall window of Lord Atlas' chambers, illuminating pale dust motes that had been stirred into the air by the recent activity within the room. Frederick Swiftpaw, newly-appointed Admiral of the Waverunners- glanced up from the pile of papers at the late badgerlord's desk, watching as a pawful of Waverunners fumbled through different chests and drawers and sorted through the items inside. As had become tradition of the badgerlords and ladies of recent seasons, when they were buried it would be with their most important possessions. While burying Atlas would be an impossibility without his body, the tradition still stood and all manner of soldiers began the search through his belongings for whatever seemed worthy of the honor. As Atlas' right paw and closest friend, it was Frederick who found himself the primary target of questions about practically each and every trinket the badger had.

"Admiral Swiftpaw, sir," a hedgehog said, examining something in his paws. "what about this bracelet here? Looks a little small for Lord Atlas though."

"I think that's a ring, mate," somebeast corrected him.

"Fates, a ring? Thing almost fits around my wrist!"

"Is there anything inscribed on it?" Frederick inquired curiously, taking his time to straighten out the paperwork on the desk.

"Aye, sir," the hedgehog answered him, squinting his eyes as he looked back to the ring. "Err... Ia... Iap...?"

Frederick's ears perked at the sound of the word the Waverunner was trying to say. "Iapetus?" he finished for him. "Does it say Iapetus?"

"Aye, I believe so, yessir."

Frederick nodded. "Right. I do believe that would be a good choice then. It was a keepsake that belonged to his father, wot.  I'm sure Lord Atlas would have brought it with him had he known that he wouldn't... that he wouldn't return." The hare grimaced and chose to stop there.

"Err... I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to upset'cha. Bein' honest, I don't think any of us were really expectin' it. Though, maybe 'twas is his time. He was a right old monster, right t' the bitter end."

"Aye," was all Frederick said in response before turning back to the work in front of him. Though his new responsibilities from his promotion were keeping him rightfully busy, there was a pit in the hare's stomach that couldn't seem to be filled when it came to the late badgerlord. It was a month since his death, and though he recited the tale of how Atlas died in his arms, having conquered the Bloodwrath and wanting nothing more than peace, it was clear that not everybeast within the mountain believed him. To those that weren't there, he died the same way he lived: as a monster, and who could possibly mourn such a beast?

Frederick once more set aside his work, opening the rightmost drawer of his desk and searching through it until he found what he was looking for: a dagger with a bright golden hilt, with the name of the pirate king carved onto the blade. For a moment, the hare considered giving it to the other Waverunners to be buried, but decided against it, quickly putting it back into the drawer and shutting it. Though nobeast else believed it, Atlas died as himself, and he wouldn't allow himself to tarnish his memory with what Blade or the Bloodwrath did to him.

Frederick's ears twitched as the door of the room opened and Killian Wrightbones strode in, carrying a short stack of papers in his arms. Instantly upon returning to Salamandastron, the hare was told that he was being demoted back to his original rank of lieutenant, due to not being a proper example for other soldiers and for Atlas not being in the right mind when he was promoted, and he now wore a nearly permanent scowl and narrowed gaze on his features. However, if anything, all it did was drive him to try and redeem himself, dedicating most of his time to taking charge of keeping Hearth under control during the initial hysterics in an attempt to garner some of his lost favor with his superior. It was impressive, and, while Frederick had no intention of revoking his decision just yet, he resolved himself to at least keep his eye on the lieutenant.

"Some more of them for you, sah," Killian said as he stepped forward and set the stack of papers on Frederick's desk.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Wrightbones," Frederick said with a nod, taking the stack and beginning to skim through them. Ritter Greytips, Dusker Tetch, Morti Dulshed. All the respective names and dismissal forms for beasts who, whether because of injury, end of service, or just simply personal reasons, decided to leave the Waverunners and merely waited his signature of approval. A name caught his eye and Frederick raised his brow.

Robert Rosequill.

Frederick sat down the page and retrieved his quill, dabbing it lightly in an inkwell before signing his name at the bottom.

"Just like that then," Killian said quizzically. "Not even gonna bally think about it, wot?"

"I don't need to," Frederick answered. "Robert was invaluable, aye. Without him, I'm sure many of us would have lost hope in the sulfur mines."

"Aye," Killian mumbled, glancing towards the floor.

"But he led us through that, and we prevailed. I could refuse to sign this and keep him in service, but I won't. He's a warrior, but he belongs with his family." Frederick sighed and sat the document to the side before looking back to the other hare. "And we belong out here."

"Aye, sah," the lieutenant said with a nod.

"Now then, was there anything else you had for me?"

"Err, yes, actually," Killian said. "Colonel Hagglethrump's lad, Cyril, told me that the prisoners are beginning to get anxious. They're startin' t' become a pawful, he said, wot."

Frederick groaned, running his paw through his headfur in embarrassment. "Hellgates, how did something like that slip my bally mind for this long?"

"Sah, I'm sure everybeast understands," Killian reassured the admiral. "You've just been busy is all. What with Atlas' death, Hearth, and those blasted pirates, I'd say you've had your paws full."

The hare nodded and got up from his chair. "Aye, well I'd best get to that now then. If you would, Killian, tell Cyril to get some soldiers to organize them and to have them brought somewhere where they can fit. The mess hall should be big enough."

"Right, yes sah," Killian said, saluting smartly. "Though, if don't mind my asking, what do you plan on doing with the blighters?"

Frederick paused, recollecting the weight of a heavy paw on his shoulder. Slowly he looked back to Killian. "The same thing Atlas would."

-----

As Frederick asked, the prisoners that were captured during the assault on Blade's fleet were properly rounded up and released from their cells, where they were made to march directly to Salamandastron's mess hall. The other Waverunners had long since finished their breakfast and cleared out of the room, opening it to the procession of vermin as they replaced the soldiers' spots at the long tables and were told to wait. Frederick stood at the far end of the room on a small stage that was set up for him, watching as some four-hundred assembled vermin rubbed at sore wrists and murmured anxiously among themselves. Nervous eyes drifted to the guards standing at attention along the wall and to the sword hilts they clutched at their waists.

"I told ya they was gonna kill us, mate," Frederick heard somebeast say with a sob.

"Ah, shut it, ya idjit. If they were gonna slay us, they woulda done it already," his friend retorted.

"But they got swords, mate. They'll kill us all quiet like..."

Murmurs began to stir among the crowd. Before any hysterics could begin, Frederick motioned for the Waverunner guards to have their arms fall slack to their sides. The voices began to cease as the hare turned his attention back to the crowd.

He cleared his throat.

"Right," Frederick began, speaking loud enough that his voice carried throughout the whole room. "My name is Frederick Swiftpaw. As instructed by Lord Atlas Stormstripe following his death, I have been given the title of Grand Admiral of the Waverunners, which is basically just a fancy way of saying that I'm the captain here, wot. I'm sure you are all wondering why I had you brought here today. To put it bluntly, you are all prisoners of the Waverunners and need to be dealt with."

The words had their desired effect and several beasts' gazes fell.

"But to put it even simpler," Frederick continued. "I have no intention of taking any of your lives, nor keeping you imprisoned any longer."

The beasts raised their gazes once more and hopeful looks spread through the crowd as excited chattering began to fill the room.

"Right, hush up, you lot! Admiral Swiftpaw wasn't done speaking yet," Killian shouted, shushing the prisoners instantly.

"Thank you, lieutenant," Frederick said with a nod to the other hare before clearing his throat once more. "When the rumors of Captain Blade's lost treasure began, beasts of all over were drawn in by the sounds of it, even our own badgerlord. And when they arrived at that island, nearly everybeast, whether they were common sailor, treasure hunter, or pirate, suffered the same fate: Blade standing over them with a mace in his paws, or cannons ready to fire, and telling them that they could either join his new pirate empire or die. And it's very hard to say no when your life is on the line.

"With that said, I'm sure there are beasts sitting here today who followed Blade willingly and truly wanted him to succeed, but there are also just as many who wanted nothing to do with it and merely were trying to save their lives. I could question you all and find out who those are, but I don't want to, and, despite the absolute heinous acts that some of you have likely done to innocent beasts, I am willing to look the other way just this once and give you all the benefit of the doubt. As far as I'm concerned, nobeast in this room is a pirate, but just a common sailor, wrapped up in the dreams of wealth and opportunity. So, I have decided you will all be given your freedom."

Cheers rang out from the crowd, but quickly ceased as a ferret stepped out from the crowd.

"Aye, and where do you expect us t' go, huh?" the beast yelled.

"Oy, you there, how about you shut your trap while the admiral is trying to bally speak, wot?" Killian's voice rang out in response.

"That's enough, Killian," Frederick admonished. He turned back to the ferret in question before beckoning for him to continue.

The beast narrowed his gaze at Killian before opening his mouth to speak once more, "When Cap'n Blade was alive, he gave us someplace t' belong. Made us feel like we mattered, or at least could if'n we tried hard enough. And then when 'e died - ya know, the first time - what happened? You beasts hunted us down and broke us apart, until we were killin' each other we were so desperate! When I found out he was still alive, I'll be honest and say I was the first t' say yes t' his offer. Kill me if ya want, but I would have followed that beast t' Hellgates. And then he... Then he died again. So, what d' ya think's gonna happen?"

"Aye," Frederick replied with a nod. "Well, I was hoping that I might be able to convince you all to choose not to return to piracy."

"Only a madbeast chooses piracy," the ferret answered him. "If there was a better option, I'd take it, but this world's practically ruled by you woodlander lot, and I wouldn't be able t' take two steps into one o' yer villages without bein' thrown out. Piracy's all I've got."

"I understand, the world isn't kind to you," Frederick said. "But as I said, I don't want you to return to piracy. So, it's fortunate that I do have a better option."

"What? What do you mean?" the ferret answered in confusion.

"Aye, admiral... what do you mean?" Killian asked.

Once more, the eyes of everybeast were drawn to the hare as he cleared his throat. Even the Waverunner guards gave him their full attention. He looked to the windows on the southern wall of the room and motioned for the others to do the same. On the horizon, a few miles from the mountain stronghold, were the different buildings and homes that made up the port of Hearth, pale smoke spurting from their chimneys like a beacon. "That is the port of Hearth. Maybe you've seen it before. Atlas had it built ten seasons ago as a place where merchants, sailors, and all manner of other good, honest beasts could work and settle with their families and friends in peace and safety. It's a place of opportunity where anybeast can succeed if they work hard enough and a place of refuge... for those that have nowhere else to go."

"Admiral, you're suggesting that-"

"Yes, starting today, so long as they abide by the same rules and laws as the other good beasts already living there, vermin are fully welcome in Hearth," Frederick started, looking over the crowd once more. "I've only discussed this previously with a few others, mostly the older generals and other higher-ups, but I've generally been met with complete support, wot. When Lord Atlas was dying, he told me it was time we welcome vermin with open arms. With his fate sealed, maybe he was trying to make amends for what he had done. But, regardless of his intentions, I agree. I think it's time we tried to end this age-old conflict... for the good of everybeast, vermin and woodlander."

The silence that followed was palpable. Both pirates and Waverunners glanced towards one another in distrust. Beasts whispered to one another, but Frederick could only catch a few snippets of their conversations.

"The hare's a blasted liar."

"That badger would never..."

"We'll be ran out..."

"Or killed, mate."

Finally, the ferret, designating himself as the official voice of the rabble, spoke up. "Did Atlas really say that? 'Cause after what he did, we all have a rather hard time believin' it."

"Yes," Frederick replied. "I was with him when he died, wot."

"Was anybeast else?"

"No," he answered. "But regardless of whether or not you believe me about what he said, I'm saying it now. You wanted a better option, a place to belong. I'm going to give you that chance, but that is exactly what it will be: a chance. Hearth will likely need to be expanded if it's to fit you, so if you wish to have a home, you will be expected to help build it. Likewise, if you want to eat, then you will be expected to work - I won't tolerate any layabouts sapping our stores or taking advantage of honest beast's generosity. Hearth is a place of opportunity, but it's up to you to pursue it.

"So prove yourselves. It will be hard, I know. Not everybeast will accept you at first either, but I'm sure so long as you work hard and don't return to your old ways, with time, they will. And if you work hard to change, then so can we."

The ferret looked away and nodded. It was clear he had nothing left to say, and Frederick wondered whether he was actually convinced.

Not pressing the matter further, Frederick addressed the crowd once more, "For those of you with a place to return to, you are free to go if you wish. We will give you all three days worth of rations and a map so that you may find your way back. If where you're from is across the sea, then we shall try to make arrangements so that you may return home as soon as possible," he said. "But, know this. We of the Waverunners have dedicated ourselves to protecting the beasts of the western shores from those pirates and brigands who would threaten them, so, if you choose to return to your old murderous ways, know that eventually we will bring you the justice that you deserve. Don't let this second chance go to waste.

"And to the rest of you, the offer still stands. Hearth is open to you. Whether your life there is prosperous or not, is simply up to you. "

As the mass of vermin erupted into chatter amongst themselves about their decisions, Frederick heard Killian whisper in his ear. "Sah, are you sure this is a good idea, wot?"

He shook his head. "No, but it's better than turning them away, or showing them hatred," he said. "I'm tired of this fighting, lieutenant. I'm tired of watching beasts die, regardless of who they are. I can't just sit by and do nothing."

"There's always going to be another fight, admiral."

"Aye. But does it have to be between ourselves? Can we not face it together? At least this way, maybe I can show them what peace truly is before the war begins."

"Aye, I understand," Killian said as the two hares looked over the beasts once more. Hopeful smiles were plastered on the vermins' faces. "And I think they bally-well do too. I think you dealt with them pretty well. Maybe this can actually work."

"We can only try," Frederick said with a smile.
-----
It was past noon when Frederick had seen to it that the prisoners were all given a proper meal and sorted into their respective groups. Those that wished to leave had gone with Lieutenant Wrightbones as he sorted out their rations and supplies and helped to point them in the right direction, while the vermin choosing to stay in Hearth, numbering nearly three-hundred, were found living quarters within the mountain until architects could be commissioned to help with the planned expansion of the port. Volunteers to help with the project already began to line up, including some of the more optimistic vermin.

With things looking to be progressing well without him, the admiral excused himself and moved on to his next duty for the day. Though the captured pirates were all released, there was still one prisoner who hadn't and still needed to be dealt with.

Frederick's paws were clasped smartly behind his back as he walked slowly through the now-empty cells of Salamandastron. Accompanying him was Cyril, the bright son of one of his old mentors, Colonel Ambrose Hagglethrump. Top of the class in the Waverunner's military academy, Cyril's exploits in knowledge and swordplay reached Frederick's ears on frequent occasion from his teachers, and it was no surprise to him that the young hare had volunteered himself as the head overseer for the prisoners that were taken during the battle.

With so many beasts to deal with, Frederick knew that it would be a suitable distraction for the young hare, whose family had become overcome with grief after hearing the news of what happened while on the island. Upon returning to Salamandastron, the admiral learned quickly that The Zephyr's cabin boy, Scully, was actually Colonel Hagglethrump's youngest, and apparently distraught son, Gordon, who had forged documents to sneak aboard and run away, only to be presumably killed by pirates.

Frederick turned towards Cyril, who stared forward distantly as they walked. "I'm sorry. If I had known who Gordon was, I would have had The Zephyr turned around. I can't imagine what it's like to lose family so young.  How is your family faring?"

"Mother is taking it the hardest, of course," Cyril answered. "She always did love Gordon. My tutor, Brother Sage, is trying his best to help her cope, but she's been stuck at her easel painting pictures of him, over and over. She's convinced that she's not painting him right, that she's already forgotten what he looks like and she doesn't want to stop until she does. It's a sad sight. Father has been busying himself with funeral preparations."

"And yourself?"

"Me and Gordon were never truly close as siblings, but he was still my brother. It pains me to think he's gone, but my fianc?, Mary, is helping me stay strong for Mother." The younger hare paused for a moment as they turned the corner of the hall towards a section of cells that were isolated from the rest. "I suppose what matters though, is that, in the end, that monster got what he deserved."

Frederick nodded in agreement.

The two hares stopped at the iron plated door of the isolation cell at the very end of the hall, two guards standing at attention beside it with spears in their paws. Cyril made a quick motion with his paws, and one of them reached for the keys on his waist, turning to the door and going to unlock it.

With a click of a latch, the bolt on the door was undone. The guards removed the key and pushed open the heavy door, waiting for the admiral to enter before following after him inside. Never really intended for any long stays, the isolation cell was in itself just a simple rectangular room only slightly larger than one of Salamandastron's broom closets and lacked any real commodities asides from a single cot in the corner of the room, a chair, and a tin bucket. On the far wall, sunlight lit the room naturally from a single, barred window, pale sunbeams casting dark shadows across the rough edges of the stone walls.

Sitting at the edge of her cot, the pirate captain Ciera Ancora gazed out of the window at the sea below. She glanced briefly at the group of Waverunners they entered, her dark eyes moving between them until they stopped on Frederick and the stripes on his uniform.

"Is it time for my execution?" the ferret asked him dryly before turning back to the window.

Frederick gave the guards a dismissive nod and they saluted before retreating out of the room. Cyril, however, stayed his ground.

"With respect, sah, if what's been said is true, then this pirate was with my brother before he died, and she is also my charge," the young soldier said. "I believe I have every right to hear what she has to say, as well as help in deciding her fate."

Frederick cocked an eyebrow at the young soldier's impudence and opened his mouth to argue but quickly thought better of it. Despite his wishes of being alone with the prisoner, Cyril was right. He deserved to know what happened to his brother and what involvement she might have had with it. "Very well, corporal, but know that I've already made my choice regarding Captain Ancora's fate, and, regardless of what your feelings are, I trust you will not argue with me about that decision. Do you understand?"

Cyril narrowed his gaze and glared darkly at the pirate in front of him, clear to the admiral that he didn't agree and already had in his head his own idea of what should be done, but, after a few moments, he hesitantly nodded. "Yes, sah, I understand," he said before taking a backwards step behind the admiral.

Frederick nodded and stepped forward, grabbing the chair and pulling it closer to him before taking a seat.

"Good afternoon," he said. "I trust you've been treated well."

Ciera's eyes didn't leave the cell window. "It's a good view here. Ocean as far as I can see, just beyond these bars." Her head tilted just enough to have a dark eye focus on him. "Fitting, really"

Frederick cleared his throat. "Yes. Yes it is." He paused, watching the pirate captain for a moment before straightening himself up with an admiral's bearing. Right, my name is Frederick Swiftpaw. I believe we've met before while we were on the island but this is hardly about that, wot. On behalf of my fellow Waverunners and the beasts of Hearth, I'd like to personally thank you for what you did. Had it not been for your warning, I doubt the other Waverunners would have been prepared for Captain Blade's attack and many innocent beasts would have been enslaved or slain. You saved many lives, from both Hearth and Salamandastron, and, for that, you have my thanks."

The pirate shook her head, chuckling dryly. "You Waverunners are all the same. A pawful of goodbeasts saved, and consequences be damned."

Frederick raised a brow in confusion. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

She turned around, eyes fierce upon him. "Do you think I'm proud of this? You've been thinning our ranks for the last ten seasons, and I offered the Waverunners the last remnant of piracy on a silver platter. How much blood is on my paws because of this?"

Frederick regarded her first curiously, then his expression turned perplexed. A question that lingered in the back of his mind for many days returned to him. "Why do it, then?"

Ciera held his gaze for several moments, then, with a sigh, she looked back at the window. "When I became a pirate, it was as a runaway and The Phantom was the ship that I found myself on. Everybeast on board told stories of their pasts, how they were stricken with poverty, or ran out of villages, and how piracy became their last resort, their only safe haven. Before he went by that name, Captain Blade, though, was different. Unlike every other beast, he was the only one who chose to be a pirate, and as I learned to fight, he approached me and asked me just a simple question: do you want to change the world with me?
"He envisioned a world where the wretches could have a purpose, where vermin could be safe, and we could all live united under a single flag. He carried himself with such confidence and passion, that it was impossible not to agree, and so for seasons we created the legend of Captain Blade until it became truth. You ask me why I did it? It's because when he took that name, I realized everything he said was a lie. Terramort fell, and he let Atlas pick us off one by one while he hid like a bloody coward. He never cared about vermin. I did though... And I wasn't going to let him lead them to destruction. If betraying vermin was the only way I could save them, then so be it."

"I see," Frederick said with a somber nod. "Turning your back on your fellow beasts must not have been easy, wot. There were of course deaths - such is the way of battle -  and some ships fled before we had the chance to catch them, but the vessels we boarded, anybeast who threw down their arms was spared. In fact, I just released them this morning with an offer."

"An offer?" she spoke the word as if it was the tired punchline to a well-worn joke.

"It was Atlas' wish that vermin become welcome in Hearth, so I've done just that and opened the gates for them. There's already a good sum of them who have decided that they'll stay. We'll be expanding the town in the next season to make room, but from here on, vermin have a place that they can call home, without having to return to piracy," the hare said.

The ferret was quiet. Then, softly, she offered, "That's impossible."

"I swear it on my honor, it's true."

"He was mad. After everybeast he slaughtered, he can't have suddenly become such a paragon of compassion."

"He couldn't control himself. He wanted peace just like any other beast," Frederick argued.

"Yes, and that peace would come when all of us vermin were dead! That's what he told me," Ciera spat. There was silence at the prisoner's outburst and she collected herself before looking back to the hare. "It won't work, I hope you know that. They'd burn down that port for a single gold coin. Those beasts are set in their ways, they'll never change."

"Maybe not, but I fought with several vermin who were admirable, brave, and honest in this last battle against Blade and that alone makes me at least willing to give them the chance," Frederick answered. "Everybeast deserves a place to belong."

Ciera only nodded in response, clear to the admiral that she didn't completely agree. A few moments passed as the ferret thought over it all, before she looked back to him. "You don't know the last thing about vermin."

"Then teach me. I'm willing to learn."

Ciera drummed her fingers against the edge of her cot, expression inscrutable. Then, she folded her arms together. "You want my advice? Those beasts have only ever known the sword--they don't know a hoe from a spear, and don't even think about handing one a hammer. You're taking away the only way of life they've ever known." She leaned forward. "But that's fine. Let the seasons pass. Let them have wives, husbands, children--teach them to act like you do. Then, when the time's right, and when they realize they have something worth fighting for, give them the sword back. Let them join the Waverunners.
"These are beasts who don't know how to live honestly. But they know how to sail and they know how to fight. So, let them, but give them something to fight for. Because, when the time comes, you're going to want as many of them on your side as you possibly can."

Frederick nodded, then his eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean 'when the time comes?"

"Blade will return."

Frederick's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Captain Blade is dead. I saw Atlas slay him, wot."

Ciera nodded. "That may be, but that doesn't mean he can't come back."

"I don't understand."

Ciera sighed. "You beasts don't know anything about Blade, do you? He wasn't just some beast who appeared one day and called himself the pirate king. No, that's not how piracy works. If he wanted to be king, he needed everybeast to fear his name-

"So he made himself into a legend." Both beasts looked towards Cyril, who had been silent until then. The other hare crossed his arms and continued. "I'd imagine that for a captain like Blade, getting respect from his own crew would be simple enough, but spreading that renown across the sea so that every pirate knew him would be much more difficult with how divided everybeast was. But, of course, everybeast loves a good story, and I'm sure Blade knew exactly what to say to make sure that his story would forever be told. That's how piracy works, right? Myths. Legends. Rumors. Without them, how else would he have even drawn Lord Atlas or you, Captain Ancora, to the island in the first place? No, Blade certainly knew how powerful words were and the effects they can have on a beast. I'm sure there are pirates already spreading stories about the battle and his death as we speak. But, of course, with Blade's reputation, those stories may very well become exaggerated. To them, he could have died in a blaze of glory or even managed to have survived. Whatever makes the more interesting story."

Ciera regarded him with a curious gaze. "What's your name?"

"Cyril Hagglethrump," the hare said flatly.

The corner of Ciera's mouth twitched. "Cyril," she spoke slowly, as if rolling the name over her tongue to get a feel for it. "That's interesting."

Frederick's mouth twisted into a slight smile of pride and he nodded. "Cyril here was the top of his class in our academy. He's always had a good head on his shoulders, wot. I hear he's getting married soon, too."

The other hare only nodded in response.

"I wasn't aware that piracy was a school subject," Ciera replied.

"I study independently when I'm able," Cyril answered her. "And I have a tutor who's schooled me in certain subjects."

"Most beasts don't choose to study piracy," Ciera said, her gaze narrowing slightly as she regarded the hare quizzically. Cyril's mouth twisted into a scowl in response.

"Right," Frederick said, wanting to get them back on topic. "But what does this have to do with Blade returning?"

Ciera looked at Cyril for another moment before turning to the admiral. "Blade has always been more of a legend than an actual beast. Not very many pirates in his empire, asides from his captains and his own crew, actually knew who he was, and we were all instructed very carefully to not let it be known. To the common pirate, Blade was just a name, and, just like any other faceless beast, they would come up with their own narratives for who and what he was," the ferret explained. "To foxes, he became a fox. To rats, a rat. And so on. Not many beasts knew he was actually a ferret and to those that did... well, if I've learned anything about other vermin, it's that they're stupid and I'm sure they'll forget. Like any legend, all it takes is a slight twist in that narrative and everything about Blade can change. Your friend here mentioned that Blade could still be alive, even though he was slain. He's right. Those pirates don't know of his fate. You could show them a body, but I doubt they'd actually accept it. They'll create their own stories just as they always have.

"And there lies the problem. Blade's dead, but he's already shown that he can survive some impossible odds, and some might hold onto that hope that he's managed to do it again. And if Blade is 'alive' then it'll only be so long until some smart beast rises to power and claims to be Captain Blade himself, which is very, very dangerous, especially if what I've heard is true and Atlas was slain as well. With that madbeast gone, any fear we pirates had is gone with him," Ciera continued. "You've made a lot of enemies, admiral, just as I'm sure I have as well, and there are beasts out there who will want revenge for this defeat. There's a storm approaching and I hope you'll be prepared for it, because Blade is still alive in the heads and hearts of every pirate out there, and, when he returns, it can be as anybeast."

"Even a woodlander?" Cyril asked, tone tinged with curiosity.

Ciera studied the hare for a moment. "In theory."

"I see," Frederick said, clutching his chin in thought. "Thank you, again, for the warning. But, you don't need to worry. We Waverunners are no stranger to a good storm. We'll weather it just as we always have."

Ciera leaned back, tapping out an uneven rhythm against her forearm. "It's admirable, you know. What you're trying to do here for vermin. It won't work, but... it'd be a shame if it failed before you could even try." The ferret hesitated for another moment, gazing once more out the barred window of her cell as a butterfly landed on the sill. It was there for only a second before flying away, and Ciera turned back towards the admiral. "You never answered my question. Is it time for my execution?"

Frederick felt Cyril's hard gaze on the back of his neck, but ignored it. As much as he understood the young hare's desire for vengeance, it wasn't his decision to make, nor would he let it be. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it, wot. Unlike those other beasts I released this morning, I know of your reputation, Captain Ancora, and the crimes you've committed for yourself and for Blade. I'm sure it would bring relief to many innocent beasts to know that you've finally been brought to justice, but due to your actions to stop Blade and save Hearth, I can't, in good conscience, take your life."

"And my freedom?"

"I've released every other prisoner we've taken," Frederick stated bluntly. "You're not an exception."

"Sah, that's preposterous!" Cyril finally objected. "Think of what she's done!"

"I'm well aware of what she's done, corporal!" Frederick snapped with a look back to the younger hare. "I understand how you feel, Cyril. I do. I know what it's like to lose someone that... that you love, but, this is my decision, and it's final. Ciera Ancora will go free."

Cyril muttered something under his breath and rolled his eyes.

"If you have something to say to me, say it."

"I said you're a bloody fool," Cyril answered, meeting the admiral's narrowed gaze.

"Right. Well, that's something you and I can discuss later. But, as I understood it, you agreed that you wouldn't argue with my decision, so unless you want to spend the next few weeks cooling your paws in the guardhouse for insubordination and disrespecting a superior officer, I'd suggest that you silence yourself this instant, and remember why you are here. Otherwise, you can leave. Am I clear?" Frederick warned.

"Of course, sah," Cyril muttered.

"Then speak your peace."

Cyril turned his gaze away from Frederick and back towards Ciera. The hare's eyes darkened as he glowered at the pirate. "Tell me what happened to him. Gordon."

The ferret raised a brow. "I don't know a Gordon."

"He was one of our cabin boys on The Zephyr and went by the name Scully Craws," Frederick explained. "It's only after we returned to Salamandastron that we learned most of his documentation was forged or simply made up. He was one of our retiring officer's sons and unfortunately, no beast on board was aware of this fact when we left port."

"I see," Ciera said, hesitating for a moment to collect her thoughts before looking back towards Cyril, and darkening her gaze. "I didn't kill Scully, if that's what you think. Blade killed him. Scully practically worshipped Blade, and wanted to be a pirate, just like him. He was naive and stupid, but I gave him what he wanted. When we made it to the Dead Rock, Blade saw that trust and used it to his advantage. Scully told him everything he needed to know about Salamandastron, and when he wasn't useful anymore, Blade stabbed him in the back. Know that. Scully saw Blade as a hero, and he killed him without a second thought. I don't know what stories you've heard, Cyril, but know that Blade was no hero, regardless of what he wanted to do for us vermin. If it benefitted him, even only slightly, he wouldn't have hesitated to watch all of us die."

Cyril was quiet at the ferret's retort, glaring daggers at her.

"Thank you, Captain Ancora," Frederick said gruffly as he stood up from his chair. "Is there anything else you want to know, Cyril?"

"No, sah. I think I've heard enough," the hare answered flatly.

"Very well, if you'll follow me, Ciera, I'll take you to your ship," Frederick said to the ferret before knocking on the cell door to be let out. "You can return to your duties, Cyril. As for your outburst, you and you're family are going through a dark time, so I'll forgive you for that reason, but I expect it will not ever happen again. As I said, I know what it's like to lose a loved one."

As the guards opened the cell door, Cyril turned his head back towards the admiral.

"Like Atlas?"

Frederick paused. "Yes. Like Atlas."

Without another word, Frederick and Ciera departed from the cell, Cyril's gaze fixed on them the entire way.

-----

Hearth was ablaze with activity as it always was, scores of sailors and travelers of all kinds intermingling and conversing loudly with one another as they tended to their vessels, sorted through the wares of different shopkeepers and their stalls, or joined groups of beasts to visit the local taverns close to the docks. A procession of Waverunners called for them to make way as they pushed through the crowd of beasts and towards a small, rickety vessel at the end of one of the docks.

"That's the one, right?" Frederick asked, reading the name that had been hastily carved onto the side. "The Silver Maiden? That was the name of your other ship, wasn't it, wot?"

Ciera glanced up towards the vessel as she kept pace with the hare and his soldiers. "Aye, I liked the name," the ferret said simply, though it was clear to the admiral that there was more to it than that, though he chose not to pursue the issue any further.

As they arrived at the gangplank, one of the Waverunners looked to Ciera. "Your paws," he said simply with a gesture towards them.

Ciera raised them without a word, watching as the beast produced a key from his belt and unlocked her manacles, gravity overtaking them as they slipped from around her wrists and fell to the deck below in a clatter of iron. He nodded his head for her to ascend the gangplank, but she turned back to Frederick. "I need one last word with your admiral before I go. Alone."

The soldiers looked towards Frederick hesitantly, awaiting his orders.

"Very well, captain." He turned to the other Waverunners, dismissing them with a single nod before following the ferret on board her ship.

"I've made sure that you were provided with enough provisions to last a short journey, at least until you can reach another port to restock," Frederick said as Ciera led him into the hold of the ship where nobeast would be able to hear them. When the door was shut, he gestured to the back wall. "I've also made sure that you were well stocked in other ways, that I'm sure you'd appreciate."

Ciera glanced over her shoulder, noticing a familiar glint of a steel blade in the corner of the room. "It's typically not wise to let a prisoner go with their weapon."

"I suppose not," Frederick said, giving a shrug in response. "But, it's as you said, we've both made enemies. It's best we be prepared."

The ferret strode to where the blade lay on the wooden floor, grabbing it quickly and testing its weight in her paw before carefully stuffing it through her belt comfortably at her hip. "About that," she said, before turning back to the hare. "There's one last thing I need to tell you. I needed it to wait until we were alone."

Frederick raised a brow. "And what's that?"

"Don't trust anybeast," Ciera answered him. "Even the Waverunners."

"Why not?"

Ciera kept her tone low, her expression dark. "When I was with Blade, he was already prepared to take on Salamandastron. He had knowledge of defenses and secrets that he shouldn't have had access to, long before Scully told him anything. What Scully told him only confirmed it. Which means that someone knew he was still alive, somebeast within the mountain who had access to all of this information and wasn't afraid to tell him everything they knew."

"There's a spy in Salamandastron?"

"Aye. But there's no telling how many of them there are. It could be one beast, it could be hundreds. Especially after everything Atlas did." Ciera paused, looking to the door of the hold for a moment cautiously before turning back to the hare. "if I can give you some advice it would be to watch your back."

"Of course, thank you," Frederick answered with a single nod. "Now, before you leave, I also have advice for you."

"And what would that be?"

"I know what happened to Fildering," Frederick said bluntly.

"I don't know who that is," Ciera said with a quizzical look.

Frederick frowned. "He was one of our soldiers. Young, brave, perilous... he would have made a good lieutenant or colonel one day. After you abandoned us with those serpents, you ordered his death on the beach. I wondered where he was after the mongooses captured you. Your shipmate, Vera, told me everything."

The pirate rolled her eyes at the name and sighed.

"So, my advice for you is simple. Sail as far away as you can possibly go. I'm giving you your life, but don't think for a moment that I've forgiven you for the crimes you've done or the lives you've taken, so it would be in your best interest if you disappeared, and never came back," Frederick said.

Ciera's gaze narrowed and she shook her head. "I'm not like Blade, I don't just disappear."

"I figured that'd be your answer," the hare replied, "so, I'll give you the same warning that I gave the others. What you have before you is a second chance to find an honest life. A pirate can still make amends. But, the Waverunners still stand to protect the seas from brigands and wavescum, so, if you return to your ways, if I so much as hear your name whispered in a negative light, Captain Ancora, then we will find you."

"I wouldn't have expected anything else," Ciera snorted. The ferret watched as Frederick began to take his leave, but she stopped him before he got to the door. "I'll keep an ear out for you. Word travels fast among pirates. If I hear anything about Blade, you'll be the first to know."

"And here I thought you wouldn't want to work for a Waverunner," Frederick chuckled.

"I don't," Ciera spat. "But that town of yours is the one chance we vermin are going to get to have a place in the world."

"I thought you didn't believe it would work."

"No," she said, "but that doesn't mean I don't want it to. I've always fought for piracy, it was a place where we belonged, but if this works, Swiftpaw, and we finally have a home, then you can be damn sure that I'll defend it to the death."

"We'll keep in touch then, Captain Ancora," Frederick said with a smirk. "Until next time."

"Aye, until then."

With that, Frederick left the ferret in the darkness of the hull, stepping across the gangplank and beginning the short walk back towards Salamandastron. As he walked, warm sunshine fell upon his back as he watched The Silver Maiden slowly drift out of the port until it was nothing more than a speck on the ocean. It was a peaceful day, and soft wind blew through the hare's fur as he listened in on the jovial conversations of the other beasts around him, laughing and singing, blissfully unaware of the dangers that could very well be right around the corner. Because, though he would fight to stop it, he knew Ciera was right.

A storm was on the horizon.