Isla: I-la
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Chapter 1

The floor lurched beneath Isla's feet, but her footing remained steady. The rock of the ship was like the beating of her heart. Beneath her, the dark wood was worn smooth from time and the harshest weather. Overhead the black sails were taut, eating the wind that collided against the canvas. In the darkness of the early morning, the ship looked like nothing more than a silhouette. It sliced through the water, like a shadow gliding over the land.

Isla cut her gaze away from the horizon and to the storm that lay within the ship's rigging. The crew flew about, putting her commands into action. Around her, the fours corners of the kingdom had been pulled together. Talvish men with the palest of skin, the size of boulders worked beside dark, limber men from the Seau Islands. Stout, coarse Hendrain men traded words with stately, poised men from Loria. They were a collection of sailors that over twenty years had been packed, pressed and molded to form a crew that moved like a creature, fluid and precise.

The sky was lightening, pieces of the sun breaking the horizon behind them. Isla looked skyward, catching the last light of the fading stars. In their final farewell, she read the direction that she already sensed in the dip, bend, and tug of the water.

There was a feeling of peace and danger that lay at her feet. The ocean was a living creature that took what it wanted without mercy or apologies. To many, it was a terror that they only braved when there was no land left to travel.

Isla saw it with eyes of someone who has lived within its hold for years. The swell and fall of its waves were the lullaby that had put her to sleep growing up. The dark undulating land before her was one no man could map, but she knew it as others did not, just as her father had. It was as much a part of her as the blood that coursed through her veins.

As she stared at the endless sea a fire sparked in her deep blue eyes. The strength of her emotions seemed to brighten the gold that ringed the dark color. The source of her fire was the yellow glow of a lantern bobbing on the water and drawing closer. As the sun's rays cut into the night sky the shape of a stern took form.

"That the ship?" Hawk asked, his bass voice tinged with a Seau accent, his charcoal eyes narrowing.

Always standing beside Isla, he was like an unbending presence. A ship's mast, erect and strong.

"That's the ship," she said, her voice a contrast to his own, light and tangled with a mixture of accents. It was a result of growing up around so many languages at once. She had no true home dialect but seemed to fit with all of them.

The two figures standing at the helm couldn't have looked more different. Hawk stood a head taller than Isla with midnight skin, shaved head, broad features and muscles that strained against his homespun shirt sleeves. Even twice her age the wrinkles by his eyes were hardly noticeable.

Heading into her twenty-second year, Isla had honey-colored hair tied into a tail, sharp features, deeply tanned skin, and a lean, agile body. She was the picture of a coming storm, beautiful, captivating and deadly.

Hanging off one shoulder and secured with a strap across her chest was her father's coat. Despite the months of wearing it, it still smelled like him, the smell of the sea. The weight of it on Isla reminded her of the ghost that walked the ship, whispered instructions in her ear and still held the air of command she emulated.

"Captain Zev," Hawk said, "you know this plan is-"

"Completely foolish?" she said, cutting him off and never once looking at him, her eyes forever trained on the beacon in the distance. "Yes."

Hawk gave a nod, his arms crossed in front of his wide chest.

"As long as you are-"

"I am."

The silence that followed was heavy with both companions' thoughts. Inside Isla held to a fierce determination that was driving her forward. Though she could feel Hawk's cautions stirring around him, he said nothing. They both knew what lay ahead of them was their final option. It was this reason not a word on the subject passed between them again.

"Tell the men to get into position," she said.

Hawk took a step forward and bellowed her command. The men paused for half a second, listening then moved without question. The energy throughout the ship was electric, they all knew what that horizon held. It held a promise that no one spoke about, but all felt.

Isla spun the helm a quarter to the left, the smooth wood an extension of her body. The ship picked up speed, finding a current within the ocean that only she knew the secrets of. The bow cut through the waves like it was pulled by a sea serpent. The men shifted their weight adjusting to the increased momentum, after years of feeling the pull their muscles instinctively knew how to compensate.

Water crashed against the hull, sending sprays into the air. The droplets caught the sun's light and looked like diamonds. The wind whistled around Isla, kicking up her hair and brush her skin. In its grasp was the salty tang of the sea, a taste that kissed her lips.

Her target grew steadily closer, their pace gaining with every minute. Isla never glanced back to the horizon. There was no need. Her timing was never wrong. Even if the men on the distant ship turned their gazes back, the first light of the sun would blind them to their pursuers. No warning call would be given, no alarm raised. Before the prey was aware of their danger, it would be too late to change it.

The stern became clearer, the sleek line of windows across the back was framed by carved moldings. It was a sign of wealth of the highest kind. The ship was made from cedar wood, the light color speaking of its recent construction. The sails were almost blinding in their pure white color. All this confirmed what Isla had already been told. It was the newest kind of ship, built for speed.

At this thought, Isla's lips twitched at what could almost have been a smile. All the craftsmanship could not compare to the power of the sea. A power she knew how to harness.

"Sparrow," Isla said.

She barely had to raise her voice before a boy not much older than sixteen, with brown curls, the angular features of a Lorain and a tan complexion appeared beside her. Even at his young age, he stood at Isla's height, though the way he held himself said he was still learning the strength and feel of his lengthened limbs.

Without needing to be asked, he held out an eyeglass to her. The metal was cool in Isla's hands and familiar as the brass buttons on her father's coat. As Sparrow held the helm steady, she peered through the scope. The deck of the other ship jumped into clarity.

With a practiced hand, she surveyed the scene, counting the men, their alertness and the weapons. Among the sailors were guards in trim uniforms armed with swords and daggers. All of it was as Isla suspected it would be. She lowered the glass and handed it to Hawk, her gaze held by the approaching conquest.

"I have counted ten on the deck, five guards. All well armed and if I'm not wrong ready to be relieved of their duties."

Hawk was silent as he confirmed her findings. The deck dipped and Sparrow clenched the spokes, holding them firmly to their course. With a simple gesture, Isla took control of the helm, counteracting the ship's jerk and tilt with the ease of a veteran.

"You're correct," Hawk said. "But I judge from the stance and gait of the men that they are well trained. Even tired they will put up a decent fight."

She nodded to his knowledge.

"Sparrow, get my things."

The boy scurried away. The full force of the sun was cresting and Isla could make out the flag that snapped in the wind at the top of the distant ship's mast. It held the symbol of a shield with a ship at the center. It was the final confirmation Isla needed.

Sparrow returned, items in hand. Giving control of the helm to Hawk, Isla strapped her sword around her waist, pulling the leather tight. She accepted the dagger and secured it inside her boot. When she righted, the ship was only a few yards away.

"Tell Roland to prepare," she said, unhooking her father's coat from around her shoulder and handing it to Sparrow.

Hawk gave a sharp whistle. From the crow's nest, a head popped up, glancing down at them. The man had the wiry body of a Varron and though he was years past his youth, he looked barely older than a boy. The only sign of his age was the splashes of gray in his dark hair.

Hawk raised a fist and Roland nodded in understanding.

"Give the signal," she instructed.

Another whistle pierced the air. This time the rest of the crew were the ones to respond. Gathering hooks tied to ropes, they lined themselves up along the edge of the ship. Not a single word was spoken or a clatter made, all knowing that silence was paramount to their success.

Isla twisted the wheel and the ship escaped the force of the current. The second they were out of the ocean's pull, she nodded once. Hawk dropped his hand down. A burst of fire flared to life above them as Roland lit the tip of an arrow. In a graceful movement, he spun to the nearing ship and pulled the string back. When he let go the arrow flew in a flawless arch, like a shooting star. It hit the center of the mainsail and set it on fire.

In an instant, the deck was in chaos. Sailors panicked to stop the fire from eating away out anything else. Lost in their task, they didn't notice the ship that swooped in alongside them. Then all at once, their world became an explosion of movement.

"Now," Isla said.

Hawk gave the command and crew dove into action. Hooks sailed through the air, latching onto anything. A second after they landed, the crew followed. A bell clanged amidst the torrent of shouts, echoing the alarm that had already risen from the sailors under attack.

Isla's crew moved without hesitation. Each strike was done with unflinching accuracy. They didn't shout, yell or holler, as they rendered their victims unconscious. They were liking a coming tempest silent until there was no escape.

"Orin," Isla barked.

A Talvish man with washed out blue eyes and hair almost too pale to see, stepped forward. He was honed from muscle and as expressive as a stone.

"Take hold," she said.

With a bob of his head, Orin took up his position at the helm. Isla hurried down the steps of the quarter-deck, her boots pounding on the boards, and moved to the ship's edge, Hawk at her side.

Grabbing a length of rope, she climbed onto the railing, the course strands rubbing against her palm. She didn't think, simply jumped and swung across the gap between the two ships. For a second a stretch of blue was below her then wood. She dropped to the deck, hand already reaching for her swords.

Around her men battled, swords clashing, sparks spitting off at the contact. Already men lay unconscious across the planks. A door below the quarter deck slammed open and a wave of guards poured out. Isla charged ahead.

Her first opponent halted at the sight of her, stunned by the fiery girl before him. In that second of astonishment, Isla attacked. Knocking his sword aside with her own, she spun, smashing her boot into the man's temple. He crumpled to the ground without a sound. With the new surge of guards, her crew swarmed forward, taking them on with the same hard efficiency as before.

On the tail end of the newcomers was a man older than the rest. He was dressed in a dark blue uniform, with hair tinged with silver. The insignia on his chest told Isla this was whom she was looking for. When she drew towards him, he met her, ready for the attack. Their swords met in a sharp clang of metal. Regardless of the man's age, he moved with skill and speed. This didn't matter to Isla, she didn't fight fair.

When the man parried her blow, she used his extended position against him, kicking him in the chest. As he staggered back, winded, Isla raced forward and butted him with the hilt of her sword. He fell back against the wall, and slid down, eyes losing focus. When his senses returned, Isla had her sword resting lightly at his neck and his weapon in her other hand.

"I would remain where you are if I were you." Her voice was cool, emotionless.

A muscle clenched in the man's jaw, the cold steel pressing into his skin. He flinched away.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Who?" the man responded.

Despite his answer, the man's eyes betrayed him. They flickered to the doorway which he had come.

"I have my answer," she said. "You can still survive this ordeal, Captain. But you will not be able to catch us."

With that, Isla twisted the blade away and hit him in the face. The man slumped sideways. A scream punched the air. Isla spun around in time to see a guard race towards her, sword pointed at her.

Before she could form a plan the guard's scream died in his throat. His eyes went vacant as he dropped to his knees and fell forward. Behind him was Hawk. In his hands were two rods of dark wood. They were light in weight, deadly in force and nearly indestructible. She nodded her thanks.

"He's this way," she said.

Tossing the Captain's sword down beside his body, she pulled the door open. They entered a spacious corridor with lanterns lining the wall. The smell of polished wood and lamp oil filled the air. At the end of the passageway was an entrance marked with the same symbol as the flag. Ignoring all the diverging rooms, Isla walked forward. From behind her the sound of the fight was muffled, only the echoes and stomping of footsteps joined them.

The handle wouldn't budge when she tried it. She stepped away and gestured to Hawk. He raised one powerful leg and kicked at the thick wood. The door splintered under his strength. Yanking it open, Isla dashed inside.

Sunlight cascaded in through the line of windows, putting the room in harsh clarity. It was lavishly decorated, a mahogany desk sat before the windows, piles of papers sitting on top. A dining table was off to the right and circled by four carved chairs. A wide bed, with curtains hanging around it, was positioned at the other end of the room, the sheets twisted.

All of this was absorbed in a blink of an eye as Isla entered. What she was looking for waited for her on the other side of the door.

It was a man, only a year or two older than herself, with brown hair tangled from sleep, a dark, handsome face and strong jaw. At the sight of Isla, his calm look of authority was dented.

Using the advantage, she struck. Grabbing the hand holding his sword, she spun around and elbowed him in the face, disorienting him. She took a step back, turned and kicked him in the chest. Shock registered in his eyes before he hit the ground. Resting a foot on his sword hand, she leaned over him.

He stared up at her as if she were a dream. His eyes reminded Isla of the gray sky right before a storm, dark and turbulent. In their depths, she could see questions and speculations converging. He opened his mouth but Isla punched him, knocking the words away. The man's head thudded against the ground.

When she stood, Hawk took the spot by her side. She took a moment to take in the man's appearance. His clothes though finely made had been hastily put on. His face held all the refinement of a nobleman but there was also something rugged about it as well as if he were part of that world but didn't entirely fit it.

"Isla," Hawk said, her name already telling her what he would say. "You understand this is Duke Sayers."

Swiping at a lock of hair, she nodded.

"Yes, I do."

"From here we can not turn back."

Something tightened in Isla's gut but she forced the feeling away. She stared down at the unconscious man at her feet.

"I know." She turned back to the door. "Bring him."

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Ahoy there mates!

So, let me explain what this is. It's not actually a sequel but it does take place in the same world and Gigi and Thayer will make a brief appearance.

My sister (JoymomentsSISTER) fell in love with Raif and never stopped loving him even when he broke Gigi's heart. She said she would always love him, that he was the type of guy she would let break her heart over and over again. Dramatic but true. She then said I should write her a fanfiction with her and Raif. That's how this story was born.

I wondered what type of woman it would actually take to win Raif's heart and it turned out she's a pirate! 😄 So that's how all this came about! Like all the first chapters I write, that is all they are for the time being, first chapters. When the rest of the book will follow I'm not totally sure. But I'm excited about this one cause Isla is like Carter became Louie and decided to become a criminal! It will be epic, or that's my hope.

What do you think?

Vote, comment, follow! Cause adventures await us!