Chapter 37 | To Write A Letter

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Ethan's P.O.V.

Scream. That's what I wanted to do.

I wanted to scream like the powerful winds carrying the ship, let my anger fly and hurt the malice. The people with the evil eye.

Hatred boiled my blood. Pain struck my chest. Sadness shredded my stomach. And guilt kept the torture alive.

Nothing worried me more than the possibilities of what could happen. Of what might happen. Of what will happen. Of what has happened.

If I just had arrived earlier that day, if I hadn't been so naïve, if I had opened my eyes and paid attention to what was happening, perhaps nothing of this would have happened?


It's such a pathetic word. Yet, it holds so much weight.

"Your Majesty," the voice belonging to the captain of the ship spoke, her tone flat and clear. "I am sorry to inform you that the crew has found no signs of the Blackburry. The scouts are still looking, but they doubt that there will be found any ships today."

Although her words did not surprise me, they still summoned anxiety and defeat. I could see how desolate the sea was, the lifeless sight bitter and eerie.

My eyes could not find the strength to tear the stare away from the empty ocean, so I just nodded without words and waited for her to leave.

Scream. That's what I wanted to do.

The void felt heavier the more I thought about her. Remembering her traits were the most difficult weights. No matter where I looked, I saw her characteristics everywhere.

Her hair; the way she tied her front strands behind her head. People who pinned their hair in a similar way reminded me of her.

Her personality; the aberration things she enjoyed: gray clouds, coldness, weird and tasteless (in my opinion at least) food, and her devotion to music. All the deviation my eyes could find, it reminded me of her.

And then there was her humor. Elena always carried some jokes or comments up her sleeve, always having something to say.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" She smiled with a twinkle in her eyes, her sly grin widening.

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know, why?"

"To get to the idiot's house. Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"The chicken."

At that time, I found the joke brilliant. But now, it was just another dagger that tormented me.

"Ethan," the hand on my shoulder felt ghostly, almost as if it wasn't there. "Ethan, you being miserable and staring at the water won't make the Blackburry appear out of the blue - pun not intended."

A sigh made Lorenzò's hold disappear, leaving my body and mind alone and isolated from any form of warmth.

He's right, I told myself, finally letting my gaze fall on the wooden ship. The only one who gains on my misery is Captain Claes. And if there is one thing he is not going to get, it's my determination and hope.

"I know it does no good to be gloomy and sad, but how can I not feel miserable?" My body turned around to meet their eyes, the feeling of guilt crawling and scraping my insides. "She's abducted because-"

"-A pirate decided to hurt innocent people." Conner cut me off to glue his ending to my sentence, his blue orbs never looking away. "Ethan, there is a reason why these pirates are listed as the most vicious and heartless criminals. They did this - Captain Claes did this to Elena, not you. So, get yourself together and be useful; Elena isn't coming home by you feeling worried about her."

Lorenzò and I watched with surprise at Conner's sharp, whacking tirade, taken back by how honed each and every word was.

That's when a plan began to thrive.

"A letter," the words fell out of my lips before my mind could organize my thoughts. "I need to write a letter," and before my friends could ask or stop me, I fled underdeck.

"Great, look what you've done, Conner!"

I wrenched the door open, finding Captain Petra at her desk with colorful maps surrounding her. She rose when her eyes met mine, perplexed by the sudden entrance, "Your Majesty, is there-"

Shaking my head to answer her question, I found a paper and a pen, quickly placing it on the table in the center of her office. "A letter," I said, looking into her curious orbs.

Her eyebrows furrowed, the confusion reflecting her aged features. However, it soon dissolved when she realized where I was heading. "You want to write a letter to them."

"You've got to be kidding me," Conner's voice emerged from the door, he and Lorenzò gazing me. "Ethan, you're not going to send a letter to the pirates, that's the dumbest thing I have ever-"

"What, no!" I ended his criticism, feeling angry that he could assume such thing. "The letter is to. . ." A sigh fell from my lips as I rubbed my temples, the pain becoming heavier and heavier. "Just trust me, okay? I know what I'm doing."

And hopefully, it will work. It has to.

"Could you explain why Captain Claes hates you so much again?" Lorenzò asked, finding a seat as he studied the map laying on the long, rectangular table centered in the big cabin. "There are too many stories about the two of you that I lose the grip of truth. Did you really kill an Aurora-"

"All you need to know is that Prince Ethan did what he had to do," Captain Petra cut him off with thick and sharp words, her hard gaze revealing the true seriousness of the situation. "If His Majesty had not acted the way he did, the pirates would have conquered the entire Atlantic Ocean."

There were too many tales about Captain Claes and me, too many to keep track of. I have heard everything from killing his brother to stealing his parrot.

However, there is always this one detail that many people get wrong; a name that confounds most folks.

"I did kill Aurora," I answered Lorenzò's question, watching how the old memories woke from the dead. "But most people forget that Aurora was actually Captain Claes' beloved ship."

The curly-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows, blinking in perplex. "What?"

"He 'killed' a ship," Conner repeated with air quotations, known to the misunderstanding that unfurled from tale to tale. "It originally belonged to Claes' mother, Aurora, and it was destroyed after Ethan sank the ship to the bottom of the sea."

"Along with his dreams of ruling the Atlantic Ocean," Captain Petra continued, her low, salt-and-pepper-colored bun becoming looser and looser by each head turn. "If his Majesty had not sunken the ship, the bridges to other kingdoms would have been broken. Not to mention, the seas would have been a dangerous place to sail. Price Ethan saved thousands of lives."

Although they were praising me, I could not convert their words into honor nor pride. The past I shared with Captain Claes caused nothing but brutal consequences - corollary that Elena is paying deeply, despite her non-existing part of the conflict.

"So, what's the plan?" Lorenzò looked at me, his query causing every eye to turn towards me.

The air fell silent, empty of answers and voices. Only the sound of faint waves could be heard along with the creaking planks, playing a song of the atmosphere's void.

"A letter," I repeated my statement, looking at them with a tired gaze. "We need to write a letter."

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