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It was so long ago...do I even remember it well enough to share my story? I guess I do, although it feels like another life, rather than a mere 18 years ago. Well, I guess it would be mere by your standards, but for me it feels so very long. I was six then, and sitting in front of the door to my mother’s room. Inside I could hear her coughing and the hushed voice of a maid as she tried not to alert me. Everyone in the house knew I waited outside, I always did. Finally the stout woman who took care of our family as though we were all her children came out and looked down at me through deep brown eyes. “Little Miss, are you sure you don’t want to go see your mama while she’s sick?” Her kind face always brought me calm, perhaps because it was so like my mother’s though they were not related. I imagined what my mother; the once beautiful and proud woman looked like now. A lioness stripped of her fur, the creature my father called his wild African queen tamed and pathetic. It made me want to cry, though I did not. Even then it was not in my nature to let my true emotions show. Perhaps that’s why though you think you do; you don’t truly know me, even now.

I was a tiny child and I turned my face up to the woman and matter-of-factly spoke. “Mama’s going to die.” Then, for the first time in days I stood and walked away with my dark curls bouncing behind me. Everyone always told me I looked like my mother, but I knew that was a lie. She was tall and thin, graceful with long features. Her skin was nearly the colour of coal and her eyes were the same shade of brown as the French candy that father brought me, Chocolate. I was short, and my features were all round, though then it was from being a child. Even now I am not lithe as she was. My skin was always this medium tone, the gift of having parents of different races, and my hair has always been not quite black, but nearly there. My eyes however…those I was proud of, still am. My father had green eyes, so no one knows where I got these storm cloud orbs, but they’re mine.

As though my thoughts had summoned him, my father appeared in the hallway and picked me up, twirling me over his head until even I could not resist laughing. “There’s my child. Say, would you like to come with Daddy on a trip?” As a merchant, my father was often gone, more so of late. I didn’t realize it then, but seeing my mother sick made him sad, and he wanted to be away from it. They truly loved each other I believe. That was why my father bought her from slavers and freed her. Instead of leaving, she stayed and worked for his family for a small wage; they fell in love and then came me. The marriage wasn’t exactly smiled upon but I to this day have never seen a man smile at a woman the way my father smiled at my mother. Certainly no man will ever smile at me that way.

I was excited by the prospect of a trip. My entire life I had wanted to ride with my father and I nodded rapidly. “A sailing trip? Really?”

Wrinkles formed in the corners of his eyes and my father nodded. “Indeed my child. Desha and her father are coming as well.”

That made the idea even more wonderful. My father’s partner in business had a daughter near my age, Desha, and she had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. I was more excited than ever to experience life on the sea. Excitedly I jumped from his arms and ran to pack my own little bag like a mad gremlin. When I stood before him once more panting in exhilaration he grinned and tweaked my nose affectionately. Little did I know then that the journey I’d longed for would be the start of a life at sea that would continue even to the present.

The ocean breeze brushed my face and I smiled into it, holding tightly to the hand of the blonde girl beside me. Her long curly locks were held in an unruly braid and she pulled on my much shorter pigtails playfully. “C’mon Neshi, let’s go see if we can climb up to the crow’s nest.” She squealed eagerly. Desha was a year older than me and I thought of her as my protector. Though I was every bit as adventurous as she was, that little blonde definitely knew how to talk to people better than I. I’ll accept it, I’ve never been much for conversation…it’s just not my strong suit, so I always let her do the talking. Sure enough she charmed a sailor and we were up in the crow’s nest, looking out at the ocean until my father came and collected us. Those next months were the best of my life and I realized that I wanted more than anything to live my life on the sea. That was where I adopted the name Dusk as well.

Dusk is that brief time just before the sunset where the sky is a grayish colour and everything tends to be still. It was at that time each day that I would scramble to the front of the ship alone and draw. There was a man on the crew who would sit there and watch me, never speaking. I learned from my father that he came every day to this spot and always had for as long as he’d been working the ship. I felt bad for usurping his position, but he didn’t seem to mind. One day he looked over at me and chuckled, the first time I’d heard any sound come from him. “I now know what you are little Neshira.” He spoke.

I was curious and turned to him. “What do you mean?” I asked. “I’m a person. A little girl.”

He nodded. “That you are…but you are also an old soul, a Ledya Malcoa in my native language.”

“A Led-ee-a Mal coo are?” I asked, mispronouncing the second word. “What’s that mean?”

He laughed. “Led-ee-ah Mal-coh-ah” Corrected the man. “It means soul at Dusk…so I shall call you Dusk from now on.”

I blinked a few times, but the name was a good one, and I liked the way it sounded, exotic and mysterious. It is my belief that perhaps that moment was when Neshira Drysdale really died, and dusk was born. We sailed the ocean on that particular trading voyage for nearly a year, but instead of returning home, supplies were picked up at a port called King’s Town and we continued on. It was strange to me, knowing that my father was never gone that long on his normal voyages. On usual trips he would return for a few brief weeks before he was off again, but his crew usually sailed nearly year round, different faces coming and going at each port. It amazed me how many men my father had working for him on this ship and the crew was anywhere from 10 to 30 men at a time. Each man grew to know me and Desha, and we became the pet of the crew, hauling small loads and doing what little work we could as we were taught. Often the work was simple mending of clothing, nets, and sailcloth. We cleaned on board and even did a little cooking like everyone else. In the face of the sea the two of us grew strong and took to wearing breeches like boys and running along the deck barefoot. It was in our second year at sea that the pirates came.

I was below deck when the trouble began and a crewman came down and warned Desha and I to stay out of sight. He revealed that a shadowy vessel was following our every move, and he feared that pirates were going to make a try for the ship. When night fell we would sail on, as fast as we could go and hopefully be out of their territory by dawn.

The sky grew dark and the ship began to move at a faster pace, but the men on our ever present shadow did not sleep for they too started speeding up. The floating behemoth was larger than our own vessle and they sidled up next to us swung ropes to our mast. Men jumped, swung, and launched themselves across the few feet between the ships and with their cutlasses out herded our crewmen into the center of the ship. In the hold, Desha and I heard every word spoken and we cowered in our dark corner, praying not to be found.

“Search the hold, bring the sleepers on deck and take stock of the inventory!” A smooth loud voice ordered. Scrambling noises erupted and the scraping of men coming down the stairs made us pull further back into the shadows. Ruthlessly the hold was searched, bedrolls thrown and hammocks upturned. Two men passed us directly and went lower, into the cargo area, apparently taking stock of our trading goods. One man kicked his way into my father’s office and swept everything from the desk and opened each drawer. Finally they gathered at the foot of the stairs and I was certain we were safe when they once more made their way on deck. I breathed a sigh of relief and Desha stopped clinging so tightly to my hand. It was good to feel safe again.

Boot steps echoed down the stairs this time however instead of bare feet and an imposing man dressed all in black sniffed the air once, twice, and then smiled. “Well well well….we has a couple of little mice hiding in a corner…” He purred. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and like a cat when it meets a snake I wanted to strike out and hiss instinctively. The boot steps got louder and with each one the floor beneath us rattled until I could hear his breathing over us. It was no use, we were found. A large hand on the back of my neck pulled me to a standing position and similarly Desha was yanked up, whimpering in fear. It was odd to see her afraid, our roles reversed as I met his icy stare with my own, trying to make myself look as unafraid as possible. He first looked Desha over, feeling her arms and her wrists then yanking her hair back and looking into her face. She gasped and I growled under my breath at him.

“Going to check her teeth and fore hooves next?” I asked quietly. For an eight year old, I knew this was pretty brave. He dropped her hair and dismissed her apparently from his mind as he studied me, pulling my small form into the light of the nearest candle and holding it close so he could view my face. I don’t know what he saw there, but apparently it was something unique.

“What surprising eyes…” He murmured. “Like storm clouds over the sea…” The same treatment was given to me as Desha and he didn’t miss a single movement of my muscles, ready to catch me if I so much as thought of bolting. As if I would, with all of his crew on deck. I was safer here with this one man than I was with the 40 or so armed ones holding my father and his crew hostage. “Names. What are your names?” It wasn’t a question. Obviously this man was used to being in charge, and that angered me. Authority figures were supposed to respect those around them, that was what my father said.

“How about asking nicely.” I shot back.

He smiled. “How about I take this pistol here and put some lead between the pretty blue eyes of your little friend over there.” His eyes glinted in the light and I couldn’t quite make out their colour. “Now. Your names.”

“That is Desha.” I gestured to where the blonde girl sat, looking at me as if I’d grown an extra head or something. “And I’m Neshira….now isn’t it only fair that you return the favor?”

He laughed aloud again, and I glared. No one laughed at me. “You’re like a sand shark…you try to look fierce but you forget that you’re too small to do any real damage should anyone challenge that attitude of yours. I am Captain Rorick Voldt of the Dark princess.”

“So you are a pirate.”

This time captain Voldt didn’t grace me with an answer, instead he grabbed me by my elbow and Desha by hers, leading us up on deck and throwing us into the middle of a group of men. “You didn’t look well enough. I found these two hiding down below.”

My father saw me and cried out in anguish. “Neshira!” Beside him was the crumpled body of a man, and blood pooled around him. I recognized his vacant, dead face as that of Desha’s father. It tore at my heart to watch my blonde friend run forward and embrace her father’s body, crying as blood smeared her ivory skin. I knew then that it was likely I would be without a father as well, if I survived this ordeal at all.

“Men…” Captain Voldt purred again in that deadly smooth voice. “Do your jobs…and when you return to the ship, bring the girls with you. They can be of some use in a few years and until then they’re nice souvenirs. “

Every pirate amoung the men on that deck grinned and I grew a sickened feeling in the pit of my stomach, barely registering as the evil captain leapt from our ship to his own. I heard the sound of steel as blades left their sheathes and suddenly everything went red. Everywhere I looked a man was being slashed by the cutlass of a pirate and the crimson tide washed over the deck. Time seemed to slow as my father looked directly into my face and dodged pirates to come towards me.

“Neshira, I love you.”

He said quietly, urgently, knowing that he was going to die. In some strange way, I think the pirate behind him was touched, because he allowed my father to give me a brief, fierce hug and kiss my cheek before standing and turning away from me. Only then did he slash his blade across my father’s throat, a quick merciful stroke rather than the drawn out deaths many other men were suffering. I knew I should scream, cry, show some display as Desha had, but I was numb and I simply looked up at the pirate and folded my hand into his, allowing him to lead me onto the black grim reaper of a ship from whence he and all his brethren had come.
Another man had to pick Desha up, throwing her over his shoulder as he followed us, and she sobbed brokenly, beating his back with tiny fists. From that day on, we were alone but for each other.

Time passes quickly when every day is a blur of waking up, swabbing the deck, mending the clothes, cooking a meal, and running errands for the captain. Desha and I were put to work the day we arrived on the Princess and it was grueling work at that for an eight year old. If I had thought that I was working on my father’s ship, I knew now that I was mistaken. Captain Voldt had given orders that no man was to touch us under pain of death. Apparently he had a serious dislike for men who lusted after children, and that was a good thing, or else we’d have been prey to much more than the leers and comments we already received. Often I was summoned to his chambers, made to run his errands and sometimes he even spoke to me. I treated him coldly, distantly, and left his sight as quickly as possible. Not all of the crew was harsh and disgusting. The man who killed my father, whose hand I’d held as I let myself be led back onto this ship was almost kind. His gruff words of encouragement could be heard when I was close to exhaustion from a task, his hand stayed the lash of a whip from touching me and his cutlass warned off any man who dared to slap me for any reason. I found out later that he was the first mate, brother to captain Voldt in fact. At the time however all I knew was that for some reason, he’d taken to me and become a solid bulwark in my life, guarding against the harsh rage of the pirates with whom I lived and served.

I held Desha at night and she cried for nearly the first year, huddled in a ball in my arms and gripping the shabby clothing we wore. I never cried. Not even once. Think me heartless if you will, but though the work was grueling and the company wasn’t always pleasant, I was at sea and as long as I had the sweet voice of her waves against the boat to lull me to sleep at night, I was home.

A year had passed and we were practically members of the crew, if very low ranking ones. My silent guardian the first mate gestured to me one day and pulled me to the side. “Little one, would you like to learn the ways of the assassin?” He asked me quietly.

I did not know what an assassin was, but when he pointed to the daggers shining in his belt I nodded eagerly. The first thing any good seafarer needed was the ability to use a weapon. I may have known even then that I would choose the sea over all other loves in my life.

Day after day we worked hard, training just before sun-up. I was young and nimble, a perfect student for any master of such a subtle craft. I feel as though I have neglected Desha in this tale, but it is my story after all, not hers that I am telling. Know this; while I worked with the daggers, she honed other skills, the skills of manipulation and charm. I think that even then my Desha knew that she had one weapon to use better than any other, her beauty.

I was 12 years old when Desha ran to me with tears streaming down her face, clinging to me and sobbing. “I’m bleeding, and I don’t know why!” She yelled. Blood did indeed drip down her legs and I was curious. Of course I went to the source of all knowledge, or at least in my mind, the first mate.

My mentor and protector amoung the pirates were not happy when I showed him the blood. “You have become a woman.” He told Desha. “If the men find this out you will no longer be safe from their more vile corruptions. You must hide this. I know little of women’s matters, but if you ask the ship’s cook I am certain she will assist you. Come with me.” He took us to the galley and Berta, the round perpetually rum-drinking woman who served as the cook to the crew looked Desha over with scrutiny.

“There’s no doubt girl. It’s your first moon cycle. You’ll be getting it once a month from now on for about a week.” She dug around in the cupboards and pulled down a bag of powder. “Moon powder will keep your cycles on your terms, and prevent pregnancy should the crew decide to take you as their own.” She thrust the bag into Desha’s hands. “Take a pinch of if every day. You will have your moon days if you do not take it for more than a week. Use that to regulate when you have them and try to arrange for it to be when we’re at port.” Desha was frightened, but she nodded. Berta then sighed and handed her a wad of old rags, keeping two. One she tore into strips and the other she rolled into a tight cylinder about as big around as my fingers. On either end she used a strip of fabric to tie it and then used a third to tie around the bottom binding to create a sort of tail on the strange object. “When you have a moon day, to keep yourself from being discovered you will have to make these and put them up in yourself, where the blood is flowing from, do you understand?”

Again, my blonde friend nodded. “You mean it will stop the bleeding…”

Berta shook her head. “No, it will only absorb it. You will have to change the rags several times a day. Come now, clean yourself and do as I showed you.”
I and the first mate were made to leave the galley then so that Berta could clean Desha in private and tell her about something else that I was not allowed to learn yet. In the four years I had been with the Black Princess, the cook had never spoken so much in my presence. I turned to my guardian and asked him curiously.

“Does this happen to every woman?”

He nodded. “Desha is fully grown now, at least in a way. The men will no longer see her as a child if she reveals the moon cycles have begun. You too will experience this soon and you also must keep it hidden. When you are a woman I will not be able to protect you.”

That confirmed it in my mind. This man had been protecting me, though I had no idea why. Perhaps there was some guilt amoung pirates and he felt that he had to replace the father he’d slaughtered. Either way I cared not. He was my friend.
Desha’s deception did not hold up long. A man amoung the crew found her bloodied rags and pulled her to the deck. With a leer he led her to the captain’s quarters and I did not see her for three days. Finally, while on deck I caught sight of my friend and gasped. She was perched upon the lap of one of the crewmen, his hand keeping her hostage on the back of her neck. She looked like a hollow version of herself, eyes downcast and hands trembling as he cackled with his friends. I was angry, I wanted to kill him but my first mate held me back with a look, barely. The discipline he’d been teaching me for three years had almost cracked, and that angered me even more. That night my friend finally reappeared and I held her again as she whimpered and cried on me like a child once more. Her tears dried quickly however as members of the crew began treating her specially, giving her gifts and smiles. Her demeanor became less hollow and more coy as she batted her eyelashes, sticking her chest with its small breasts out and making sure to walk with a sway in her hips. I did not know of sex yet, so her changes frightened me and I asked my guardian if she was sick.

He shook his head. “No child. Desha is not sick…she has simply learned what many woman do…that she can rule a man with her body.” I did not understand, but he was quiet on the issue when I pressed, so I gave up. A sailor taught Desha to fight, one of the best warriors on the ship and in the darkness, before my lessons with the first mate, she taught me all she learned and I taught her all I had learned as well. We were strong and we knew it. Personally, I felt that I could have defeated many of the men on the ship, but inversely I knew that many of them could also best me in return. My skills stayed secret for this reason.

The day I turned 13 was the worst of my life, or so I thought. We were in port then, and when the crew returned to the ship Desha who had been roused to go along was not with them. I asked, pleading and begging but no man would tell me. My guardian was nowhere to be seen and I cried for the first time that night. When I showed up at our usual meeting place on the deck my first mate’s face was somber. “They sold her.” He informed me.

“They what?” I asked. My eyes were huge. We were currency now? Since when were we property? Oh wait, I remembered, since the day they took us. In all the years, I’d forgotten that we weren’t members of the crew. We weren’t anything to them…two children that they picked up from a merchant ship and raised to sell…like livestock. I fought with anger that night, landing not even a single hit on my tutor and he stopped me, shaking his head.

“When you fight with passion you lose logic. If you fight without logic, you lose your head…understood my little hellcat?” It was strange, but he never called me by my name…or any name. I was his protégé, his student, his friend, his hellcat, child, or little one always, never Neshira. I don’t know if I would have answered to that name anyway. Everyone else just called me girl. Desha had a name now, but she was no longer aboard…what did that mean for me? My stomach hurt and I fled to the hammock that served as my bed, sleepless.

The pains in my stomach continued and a week later as I hauled nets with the crew I felt a wetness beading down my leg. When I looked down blood was slowly tracking down my thighs, spreading through the dirty beige fabric of my breeches. I wasn’t the only one that noticed. Men from the crew pointed and grinned, but mostly I saw the face of my first mate. His eyes reflected an anguish I’d never seen in him and he looked down and turned away from me. I did not understand in the least, but after my own meeting with Berta, similar to Desha’s, I did.

“You’re a woman.” She said. “That means you need to know about sex. I am surprised you were kept ignorant this long with your little friend strutting about like the wenches at pirate’s port.”

I was curious. “Sex?”

“The eel in the cave, the ship in the channel, the snake in the hole…there are many ways to call it, but it’s all the same thing.” She answered. “When a girl becomes a woman, as you have, she can get pregnant…do you know how that happens?”

“I guess I never really thought about it.” I answered.

The woman snorted. “And you seemed so smart too.” She muttered. “Well listen to me. Now that you’re grown the men will want you for more than cooking and cleaning. When a man takes you at night he will do things with your body and his. If you’re lucky he’ll be gentle and you may even enjoy it, if you aren’t try not to move too much and wait for it to be over…”

“What will he do?” I asked.

“He’s going to put a piece of himself in that space between your legs where the moon-rags go. It will hurt the first few times, if not always...but men enjoy it, and many women do too. The captain forbade you to be touched as long as you were children, but you aren’t any longer.” The smell of rum on her breath was almost overwhelming but I tolerated it and bit my lower lip. Desha’s hollow eyes that first time I’d seen her after she was discovered came back to me. Was I to be broken so easily?

When I was clean Berta presented me with a clean set of clothes, a skirt and blouse. “You will wear this when you’re told to and not until.” She answered.
I did not understand, but I followed her instructions with the powder and rags until my moon days were gone. Even then I continued the powder, just as she’d told me. Two weeks after that first bleed a man fetched me and told me to dress properly. I assumed this meant that I was to put on the skirt, so I did. He led me to the captain’s chambers and pushed me inside, closing the door. I was frightened, I’ll admit. More than two years had passed since I’d spoken to the captain and I’d only glanced him at the wheel occasionally. He looked me over once, then again, walking in circles around me. “You do not look like a woman to me…you are still thin, with very little in the way of curve to you and much roundness of face…” He purred at me. “But the men say you are a woman, and as captain it is my duty and privilege to have you before they do. Undress.”

Under his watchful gaze I did as directed, shedding the clothing and standing before him with my arms crossed in front of me, shivering. He walked towards me and I think I let out a small whimper but instead of touching me, he picked up my clothing and carefully shredded bits of it with his knife. “Put them back on.” He said afterwards.

I obeyed, what else was I to do? The ripped clothes hung on me in tatters, revealing more than they hid and I continued to tremble.

“I do not touch children.” He spoke. “Even though your body thinks you are a woman, I do not. You do not look like one and you are not one….however the men expect me to have you for my own as captain…because of this, I need you to scream girl…I need you to sit here with me, and begin to scream as though you were in the worst pain of your entire life.”

I was confused, but he growled at me. “Scream child!”

So I screamed. Loudly, long, anguished cries of suffering. I thought of Desha as I screamed, I thought of my father, and my mother who was probably already dead. I screamed, and I screamed until my voice was hoarse and he held a hand to stop me. “Now” he said. “You need to walk out with your head down, try to walk as if every step is painful and make yourself cry if you can…You have been spared tonight, but I promise you when the crew has you tomorrow, it will be painful, and you will cry real tears.”

With that, I was dismissed. I made tears roll down my face by pinching my eyelids and walked out, limping and biting my lower lip hard to keep the tears flowing. The men clapped as I walked past them, as though I were a particularly fine show dog. At my hammock I lay silently, pondering my fate for the morrow. My guardian came to me and sat by my side silently. His hand lightly held mind, just as it had the first night I saw him, and his green eyes were filled with sorrow. He said nothing and I said nothing, but somehow we both felt what the other was putting out.
That was the last time I ever saw him alive.

The next day, a man dragged me into the hull and made me stand naked before him. He disrobed himself and pulled me to the ground. When he took me, it was painful, an explosion of intensity in my nerves that made me want to die. The captain was right, I did cry after that. When I emerged from the hull with my body shivering and the sated pirate behind me, my feet met blood. The trail led to a body with no head…but I recognized the shining daggers in its belt. I had felt almost nothing when my own father was slashed down before me, but the death of this man made my heart ache and I cried out, running towards his body and scrambling until I found the head, almost looking peaceful with his features in soft repose. I walked to his body and place his head back upon the severed neck, kissing the cold lips and laying with my face pressed into his chest. No blood had reached that chest, remarkably and I whimpered. His head, with its multitude of tiny shoulder-length braids rolled slightly each time the ship moved but I was still. Moments passed then finally I looked up at the gathered crew. “Who did this…why did you kill him!?” I cried.

It was the captain who spoke as he emerged from his cabin. “They slaughtered him because he tried to go after you when that man took you below…they killed him because he tried to protect you.” The leader looked at me with hatred and resentment in his eyes. “He is dead, because of you.”

I stood and faced him down much like the first time we’d met. I was taller now, and my body was coiled muscle, like a spring ready to strike. “He is dead because your men are savages!” I cried.

“They’re pirates, not tame navy men.” He snarled back. “My brother knew the way they are. He knew that if he tried to stop your “debut” as the ship’s new whore they would kill him…and he did it anyway. Even an assassin like Valen couldn’t stand against 30 well armed toughskins.”

He was angry and he dismissed me with a wave of his hand. “You’re of no use to me. You killed my brother as surely as if you’d swung the blade yourself. Men, get good use of her while you can. When next we make port I will sell her.”
The captain was good to his word and I found myself traded amoung pirates like nothing more than a sack of gold. The next ship I was on revealed itself to be one of non-humans. That’s where I learned that in the pirate profession there were more vampires, demons, and other creatures of dark magic than there were humans these days. The other thing I learned was that women could also be pirates. On this ship of danger and darkness the crew was cruel and I felt the sting of a whip upon my flesh more times than I can count. The first mate, a ruthless woman as cold as she was beautiful took a dislike to me the moment I stepped on board. She was a demoness by the name of Altara and for some reason I rubbed her the wrong way. She claimed me for errands when the men weren’t claiming me for their beds. On my face she left four deep scars, results of her sharp claws breaking the skin when she felt I had been too slow to answer her summons. I wore a collar on that ship and I can’t say I was unhappy when she finally convinced the captain I was useless and they sold me. That was how it went for another two years. My next ship was taken by a rival pirate crew and they had more and more beautiful wenches to turn to so they sold me to the Devil’s Rose. It was on the rose that I saw Desha again, but she was not as I remembered her.

When I stepped on board only to be greeted with a cry of joy from a flashy female pirate I gasped. The woman took me into her arms and squeezed and only when I looked up into her blue eyes did I realize it was my dear friend. She’d grown, and now stood inches taller than me. I suppose I’d grown as well, nearly at the height I stand now with hair I’d taken to wearing in many tiny braids, a tribute to my guardian on the Black Princess.

My Desha held some weight on the ship, the captain’s lover in fact, and she demanded that I be made crew, rather than slave. He agreed and I was given clothes and more training. It felt good to be again able to wield cold steel and I was happy. No man on the crew touched me, but one night as I lay in my own bunk adjoining Desha’s room a soft hand caressed my face and a voice whispered in my ear. “You’ve grown so beautiful Neshira…so very beautiful…” Her hand on my skin made me shiver and I looked up into eyes so wondrously blue that I blushed. Before I realized what I was doing I’d pulled her down and captured her mouth with my own. It was unlike the hurried rough kisses that had begun so many unpleasant encounters with the men on the ships. She tumbled into the bed beside me and lust overcame us both. The night was passed in slow passion, heating each other to the cusp of climax, and then cooling down again until we finally fell over the edge of bliss together and into a trembling heap on the bunk. She pillowed her head on my chest and sighed happily, but I was worried.

“What if your captain finds out…?” I asked her quietly. Desha just smiled at me and laid a tender kiss on my lips.

“He won’t. My Neshira…” Her voice held an edge of wonder to it. “I’ve dreamed of you…many times…sometimes when he and I…I would picture you instead and…”
I quieted her with a kiss. She did not have to act as though this was a great love when we both knew it was not. Pleasure was pleasure and we definitely had the chemistry to make it happen. She slept that night, curled against me until the noises of stirring crew woke her and caused her to scamper up and dress for the day. I moved more sluggishly but we both made it out onto the deck before any other member of the crew. Each night the passion grew more intense, and so did my feelings for Desha and hers for me. By the end of the first year, I knew I was truly in love with her, and that scared me. The love was doomed however.
It was around the middle of my second year as crew. I was 17 years old then, barely, and feeling pretty good about my new life as a pirate. The waters were calm and beautiful and the ocean air made me feel as though I belonged in it. A woman on the crew had given me triangular tattoos on my face, covering the scars from Altara’s claws and giving me more of a pirate’s look, according to her. I was lightly scratching at these scars, which itched on particularly hot days, when I heard the telltale waves of a ship coming upon our port side. “Caution, Ship to port!” I yelled, scrambling for the Crow’s nest and looking out over the beautiful ocean to the deep brown monster that was making its way alongside us. It was hauntingly familiar to the night I’d first been taken by pirates and I knew what was going to happen. When they began to board I leapt from the nest, landing in a crouch and taking a man out on my way. One down. Back to back Desha and I fought and watched as first the captain, then the rest of the crew fell until only the two of us and the other females were left standing. The other crew had specifically spared us.

Using cutlass and pistol they lined us up in a row and chose the most beautiful amoung our number, yanking them from the line. Desha was of course taken, along with a feisty redhead and a vampiric woman with white hair. I and the others were left in line. I don’t know whether to thank the fact that I am no great beauty or curse it after that day, but Desha was taken from me and they left our ship, held together by four women and four women alone in the middle of the ocean. With no one else feeling up to the task, I yelled out. “Well gals, get your hands to stations. We have to do the work of a 20 man crew and I don’t want to hear any whining about it! Get our asses to Pirate’s port in one piece or I’ll gut the lot of ya!”

Shockingly, they obeyed and I was thankful that we were only a few leagues away from the port, having only just sailed from it yesterday. When we approached the great sunken ship that marked the disguised entrance to the port I sighed in relief. It was time to round ourselves up a new crew and go after Desha. I wasn’t going to let her fall away from me.

The streets of pirate’s port are filled with dark dealings and laughter. Men and women stumble around in a drunken stupor and almost everyone is a pirate. As we approached the best inn and tavern of the lot a ruckus caught my attention and I turned to where a man was surrounded by seven others. He was holding his own quite well, but the shifting of his stance confirmed in my mind that he was exhausted. I’m not usually one to throw myself into situations for no reason, but something about this handsome stranger called to me and I tumbled into the midst of the men around him just as he fainted dead away at my feet. His auburn hair was in what had been a neat low ponytail earlier in the day and he wore clothes that would have been nice if not for the stains of blood on them. Obviously this was no pirate, and he must have tried to pass himself off as one. I looked at the angry men sheepishly and smiled. “Well hello boys….what brings a group like you to a place like this?” I asked. My voice dripped honeyed sweetness and they looked me over.
I am no beauty, I know that but I’m not ugly and men who like tits and hips tend to like me, I have both, though the latter is in greater supply than the former. Besides, I’m better looking than most hookers you’ll find around Pirate’s port and that is what those men saw. They leered and bared their steel at me; there was no talking my way out of this one.

A dagger expertly thrown from my right hand caught the furthest in the throat and with my dominant left hand I slashed forward with my cutlass and mowed down the two in front of me. With three of their comrades down, if not dead, the four others surrounded me angrily and shouted obscenities. If they were more used to working together, they probably could have taken me down, none of them were bad fighters. As it was however they got in each other’s way more than anything and I was easily able to bash one in the face with the pommel of my weapon and kick him away from me and into the other two. They fell in a great heap and didn’t rise, so I pulled the man over my shoulders and walked into the tavern. I got a room and dragged him up to it, tending his wounds as he slept. Finally I was able to walk back downstairs and look for my crew. They were gone, and when I ran to the docks my ship was too. No honour amoung pirates I suppose.

I shrugged and walked back up the stairs. Looks like I’d have to find myself a position on another ship. It was the first time I’d have to do that, but certainly not the last. When I arrived back heard my patient stirring and stood over him. He woke and sat up quickly, groaning as his gut wound popped open and falling back down. I wordlessly untied the bandage I’d made and re-tended the bloody mess. He was watching me I knew, but I ignored it. Finally he spoke.

“You’re a pirate.” He said carefully.

I snorted, not the most ladylike sound in the world, and turned to him. “Well you’re at pirate’s port aren’t you? Of course I’m a pirate.”

The man seemed confused. “You’re helping me? You’re awfully young.”

“And I bet I have more experience in life than you will when you’re gray.” I replied.

“And I’m helping you because you were stupid enough to think you could swim into shark infested waters dressed up like a tuna.”

He chuckled. “I’m Lerryn. Lerryn Idratch…an erm…”

“You’re a bounty hunter. You bring pirates in for gold.” I finished for him. “And you must be new at it because you’re certainly not as crafty as the ones my teacher told me about.”

Lerryn seemed shocked. “You knew and you still helped me?”

Rolling my gray eyes skyward I pointed at him. “Pirate. We’re not the most loyal bunch to others who aren’t our own crewmates. Any man I haven’t sailed with doesn’t have any reason to count on me and any man who would gang up on a man 7 to one doesn’t deserve my respect.”

“There were 12.” He pointed out. “I took care of five…does that mean you handled the others?” His voice betrayed a sense of disbelief….apparently I didn’t look tough enough to have dispatched 7 men on my own. Wow he was stupid. Perhaps he didn’t know that women pirates had to be just as tough as men…even more so to survive in a male dominated profession.

“They weren’t terribly bright.” I answered simply. “Drunk men seldom are…now hold still.” As I studied him I noticed his eyes, the same shade of gray as my own, and surrounded by long dark lashes. A pretty man like this had no place on the sea. “Look…You can stay here until your wounds are healed but then I am going to find myself a new flag to sail under and you’re going to find a ship home, wherever you belong, before you get yourself killed.”

Stubbornly he glared at me. “You haven’t told me your name….and I’m a grown man, I can go where I please.” I supposed he had to have been around 20 or so. Not that far grown as far as I was concerned.

“And I’m a grown woman who knows more than you so shut your mouth.” I snapped back. “My name is Dusk by the way.”

“What kind of name is that?” He asked.

“It’s a pirate’s name.” I answered simply. “Just so you know, I was planning on pursuing ship that kidnapped someone important to me when I saved your a**…and now the crew I sailed here with has left me…it’s not exactly a happy situation.” I had a temper back then I suppose. I glared right back at him; cold grey eyes making him look away. Obviously he hadn’t mastered that particular stare that people with our shade of eyes can use so effectively. He was quiet then and I sighed, moving to re-dress his wound and cover him with the blanket provided to me. “Sleep now. That wound needs you to be still so it can scab over. In the mornin' you should be able to move, but it’ll be stiff.”
With that I walked into my own corner of the room and sat against the wall with my knees propped up and my arms wrapped around them. With a thud I rested my head against the hard wooden wall and prepared to sleep. “Good night…Miss Dusk.” I heard him say softly. I smiled a bit then. Perhaps this child did have some manners after all.
When Lerryn woke the next morning I was already about setting a tray of inn breakfast beside his bed. I’d already eaten mine downstairs and the room was tidy. I picked up my clothes and his, looking over when I heard him groan. “It is stiff…” He complained, making a face at me.
“Try to move slowly, stay in that bed if you can. I’m going to the bathhouse to wash our clothes, I’ll return soon. Try not to pop the scab or it’ll take longer to heal…along with the other wounds you have. I think that arm is broken.”
He nodded and tried to move his left arm. “It’s a good thing I’m right handed.”
I just shrugged and walked away, leaving him to wolf down the plain, but hearty fare provided with the cost of our room. My tab was running rather higher than I liked already but I had some left over gold from our last plunder and there was some jewelry I still hadn’t sold too. “Should probably go to the exchangers here and get that taken care of…” I muttered.

In the bathhouse I washed our clothing, getting the bloodstains out of his as best I could with little luck. Finally they were hung to dry and I stripped to the skin and prepared to wash myself. As always the scars on my back flared up in a tingle when the hot water hit them, but after a few seconds I relaxed and began taking stock of my situation.

Desha was out there somewhere with a ship I’d never seen before and I was stuck here, crewless and with an invalid pirate hunter to take care of. Great. There really was no way to help it and I sighed. I couldn’t just leave Lerryn alone in the middle of enemy territory, it wasn’t in my nature to abandon someone that I’d set out to help. Besides, in this season I’d be lucky if I caught a ship coming into port…it was prime season to be out on the sea, most captains wouldn’t dock here until the weather started turning a bit more sour, making it harder to find merchant ships to prey on.

Hard to believe I’d once been on one of those merchant ships.
Dressing quickly I took the dry clothes back up to my room, only to find Lerryn sitting upright and cleaning his bloody sword. Angrily I took the weapon from him and flicked him in the forehead with my middle finger. He put a hand to the tender spot and glared. “What was that for?” He asked angrily.

I pointed the sword at him and he blanched slightly. “You’re sitting up, and you must have done it too fast because you’re bleeding against you moron!” Throwing the weapon aside and ignoring his protests at the treatment of his property I pushed him down on the bed and ripped open his bandages. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared, only a small hole in the scab and I patched it up easily enough, but his recklessness was annoying. I picked the sword up from where it had landed and cleaned it myself, sheathing it back in its neat little holder and hanging it from a peg on my wall by the sheath-chain. “Don’t do that again.” '

My own weapon was hanging beside his, a large curved cutlass as opposed to his dainty looking English curved sword. I stormed around the room for a while, fuming, and he seemed frightened into silence as he watched me, finally dozing off to sleep. Left to my own devices I once more sat against the wall, still unnaturally angry. After a few deep breathing exercises and unclenching my fists I felt better, but it didn’t change the fact that Desha was who knew where and I was stuck here with a moron who treated life like it was okay to be a goat amoung wolves.

And thus is Dusk's story so far. I'll continue it every so often.

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