25
Pink tears in battle
T he echo of a gunshot ripped through the air, and my heart froze. My limbs were heavy from the water, Thalassa’s Veil clutched in my hand still shimmering faintly. The sharp crack of the gunshot rang in my ears as I struggled to catch my breath, the weight of what I had just learned in the depths sinking into my bones.
Before I could fully register it, the crew had already begun to sprint towards the ship. A surge of unease rose in my chest as I forced myself to move, stumbling forward. Something was wrong.
There shouldn't be anyone here until nightfall.
We ran, and ran, with our doubts filling the air and the questions in their eyes following me as they looked back at the veil in my shoulders. We passed the cave with the precious crystals embedded in the walls and made sure the doors were closed, and then we reached the rocks where the ship was docked. And my stomach lurched .
The bodies of the Pearlspire guards were sprawled on the ground, lifeless, their armor stained red.
My breath hitched. Dead. They were dead.
I barely had time to process the sight before my gaze shifted to the advancing figures of the Tidian guards. There were so many of them. Their faces were hard and cold, their swords raised as they charged towards The Rebecca.
A rush of panic surged through me, but my feet were rooted to the ground. The crew was already moving, reacting as if on instinct. Ela was a blur of motion, her two pistols out in each hand as she fired mercilessly and knocked any guard who passed by to the ground. Efren’s quick nimble movements drew my attention, his graceful dodges keeping him one step ahead of his attackers. Jonah, fought with a kind of grim determination, shielding them all as best he could.
Everyone was fighting. Even Coco, perched on Duke’s shoulder, screeched and pecked at the heads of distracted foes.
Calico’s eyes, sharp as a blade, flicked their attention from the fight to me. I felt his gaze before I heard his voice. “Donna, get to the ship!” His words were an order, but there was something in his tone—something protective, desperate.
I wanted to help. I so desperately wanted to feel like I belonged in this way too. To watch their backs and protect them. But I couldn’t move.
My only security in this area, my bow and arrows, weren’t with me. I didn’t have them. I had always relied on them to feel in control. Now without them I felt vulnerable. Useless .
The clamor of the battle grew louder, but it was all muffled, distant, like I was trapped underwater again. I barely registered the figure charging at me until he was too close.
The guard’s sword was raised, ready to strike. My heart pounded in my chest.
Move, Lady Love.
My body reacted before my mind could catch up. I swung my fist with every ounce of strength I had. My knuckles met the guard’s face with a dull thud, the force sending him stumbling backwards. I stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief, and I could promise that I almost apologized. I immediately held onto the skirts of my dress and noticed the dagger that Calico had given me when we arrived at Loro and that I had kept in the pockets of my dress. Before I could think, I grabbed it, my fingers gripping the handle so tightly they ached.
Another guard was already running towards me, his eyes locked on me like I was prey.
Everything slowed. My heart pounded in my ears, the sound of the battle fading into a distant roar. I saw him coming but couldn’t move. I just stood there, the dagger shaking in my hands.
Then, in a flash, it was over.
He ran straight into the blade. The shock in his eyes mirrored my own as the dagger sunk into him, deeper than I ever intended. Warm blood spilled over my hands, and for a moment, everything stopped. The guard slumped forward, his weight pulling me down. The dagger slipped from my grip, and I stumbled back, the blood—his blood—coating my fingers, my hands, my arms. Everywhere. Blood everywhere.
My mind struggled to catch up with my body. I felt disconnected, like I was watching someone else’s hands, someone else’s body. I had taken a life.
“Donna!”
The captain’s voice broke through the haze, pulling me back to reality. I looked up, dazed, to see him rushing towards me, his expression a mix of worry and urgency. “Get on the ship!” He shouted again, but I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the blood on my hands.
Suddenly, Calico was in front of me, his hands gripping my arms, steadying me.
He didn’t speak for a moment, just looked at me—really looked at me. His eyes softened, and he pulled the dagger from the dead guard’s body, quickly sliding it into his boot.
Then, with a gentleness that cut through the chaos, he took my wrists in his hands and guided my open palms to his chest. He rubbed them across his shirt to wipe off the blood, leaving a trail of crimson wherever he moved them.
“It won’t feel like this forever,” he said quietly, his voice firm, although I could hear the undercurrent of worry. “I know what's going through your head in this moment but I promise it will pass.”
His touch was grounding, steady. I wanted to believe him, wanted to shake off the numbness, the shock, but all I could do was stare at my hands. They were clean now, all the blood in his shirt, but I could still feel it, sticky and warm, clinging to my skin.
“Come on.” His voice was firmer now, his grip on my wrist pulling me gently but urgently towards the ship. I followed, my legs moving without my consent, my mind still trying to process everything.
By the time we reached The Rebecca, the crew had already started to retreat, the sails unfurling as they pulled away from the rocks. The guards of Tidia were shouting, but their voices grew distant as the ship began to move, slipping out of the coast.
I collapsed onto the deck, my body trembling, my eyes still wide with shock. I barely noticed as Calico knelt beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder, like a silent promise of protection perhaps.
I had never killed anyone before. I didn't even know if he was really dead. And now, no matter how hard I tried to wash it away, the memory of blood on my hands would linger.
He turned to me with an expression that was surprisingly soft—gentle, even. His eyes steady on me as he said quietly, “You did what you had to.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…” My eyes instinctively went to his boot where I knew the dagger was.
“No one ever does, not the first time.” His voice was low, gravelly, but there was no judgment in it. “Killing…it changes something inside of you. And it should. But that is what makes you too. ”
I looked up at him, eyes wide, still glassy with shock. “It felt so wrong,” I whispered.
“In this world, wrong and necessary tend to cross paths more than you think.” He took a breath and at that same time, I felt a breeze brushing past us.
“But you have to believe that the part of you that makes you be, the one you carry as your flag wherever you go, that part has to be stronger so it can coexist in the future with the ones you consider your darkness.”
“How?”
“You don’t have to know right now. But you don't need to carry that alone. This crew is your family now, we take care of the burdens that each one of us want to share, and the ones we don't, the ones that remain stored deep inside of us, those we understand them from silence.”
The tenderness of his voice and the sincerity in his words made tears start to come out of the corners of my eyes. I wanted that. I wanted a family. I wanted to be understood even in my silence.
“I do want that,” I whispered, speaking my thoughts out loud.
“You already have it,” he said with a calm voice. “You had it the moment you set foot on this ship.”
I nodded.
“Don’t cry, love. Or I’ll start calling you Pink Tears instead.”
I smiled through my tears. “I like that one too.”
“Aye,” he whispered, so softly it felt like a caress, one that I knew I really needed. “Me too. ”
At that moment when we were both kneeling on the deck and my trembling hands had calmed down, I only wanted to bring one of them to that scar of his, the one that he kept as a secret and I was starting to understand from his silence, I wanted to run my fingers over it very slowly and tell him that I understood, that I understood many things, and one of them was that I understood why they called him captain. But more than anything, I wanted to caress his scar, and then his cheek, and whisper my gratitude. But the moment I began to raise my arm, a yell interrupted the action.
“Cap’n! The Crown’s behind us!”
I froze at Jonah’s voice. The Crown’s Justice. Behind us, again.
“Gods above,” the captain muttered as he got up. But the words he shouted next, came out of his mouth like a promise, “Hoist the colours! This time I’ll make sure that bloody ship ends up sunk in the depths, even if I have to do it myself!”