There are life-changing moments in every person’s childhood, when one comes to realize the fairytales and fantasies once held so close are simply wonderful illusions. If you really look close enough as you sit in his lap, most of the time you can tell Santa’s beard isn’t real. Even if the impostor does happen to have a very realistic looking costume, once reasoning skills kick in, the child realizes it’s impossible for Santa to be at all of the malls at once, or even travel the world in one night for that matter. Sometimes these realizations come astonishingly late. You know, those little boys and girls who cling to childish delusions far longer then they ought to, the ones who are horrified and humiliated in front of their entire fifth grade class when they’re laughed at for believing in the tooth fairy.

And then there are the prodigies, the ones who discover the true commercialist meaning of life even younger then their fellows and are stuck in kindergarten, pretending to believe in fat men sliding down skinny chimneys in order not to spoil their classmate’s childhoods. At five years old, they are fully aware their knowledge deprived them of something magical in a world where magic doesn’t really exist.

No matter how mature it is to realize one cannot be a fairy princess at eight, at five it is simply depressing. The prodigies, the ones believed to be blessed, are robbed of the world’s hidden miracles and surprises. So while their classmates are envious of their effortless addition skills, the prodigies are equally green when their classmates look at magic shows and see the impossible rather than obvious slight of hand.

Reinaka was one such prodigy and she had lost the ability to dream like a child very early on. Perhaps that was why she couldn't stay with her former crew. Perhaps that was why she had run away and left that life, though short it was. She stood there, leaning against a post, reading a News Coo from a few days prior, scanning over i to see if she'd see their names somewhere. She did it every time she found a paper. What were they doing? Where were they now? Tai... Owen... Lee.

But alas they weren't here and she was. She folded the paper, dabbed out a cigarette and picked up the sign from in front of the deck that lead to her ship. The Killing Quill sat a few meters away, bobbing along on the waves, anchored for only a short while longer. She'd just about gotten her quota. Fifty thousand a pop was a decent enough wage to be making to carry people from Blue to Blue. What else was she supposed to do? What other purpose did she have at the moment. She didn't have a crew, she didn't have a reason to pirate anymore. All she had was herself... and a boat.

"Alright, all a-fucking-board. The anchors raising in ten minutes. One way route to Ilusia in the West Blue."

She turned and walked the dock to her ship and busied herself raising the anchor and preparing to voyage back out to sea.

He anchor was hoisted, the sails opened wide and the trusty rent-a-crew agency had sent her a decent crew of sailors to help with the voyage. It was a decent enough company and that came highly recommended. A doctor, a cook, a shipwright, a gunner and a deckboy - each with specific skill sets that would get the Killing Quill and the 27 souls on board her from Point A to Point B. She sent each of them to the respective positions, walked up to the top of he ship and stood behind the wheel of the ship.

The girl eyed the people on board with a watchful eye, taking into account each individual that had paid to board her ship. They all wanted adventure or fame or fortune; it didn't matter to her. They were wrong to think such things were out there, waiting just for them. Nothing was out there but pain and misery - she'd learned that the hard way. So now she ferrying people to their fates: pirates, marines, criminals or whoever. Could she ever make that fateful step again?

"Alright, people. We're outta here!"


She turned the boat and let the wind carry them away. The seas were calm, no storms were in the horizon for at least another kilometers: smooth sailing ahead.