02 | ROOKIE MISTAKES

Just as August had hoped, Calico began giving her attention. A fortnight passed until the effects of her bribery came to play and her life switched for the better. Calico promoted her to quartermaster, allowing August assign chores and issue orders. No one dared to challenge her as she'd already accomplished the impossible: she won over the captain and first mate. August couldn't be happier with her life.

Or so she thought.

"Oi, Gold," Calico called, crossing the deck with bunches of cloth in her arms.

August looked up from her card game, careful to hide her hand. She'd begun a game of blackjack with Wes to pass the night. The port town they'd pulled into, Deepmist, was infamous for its cheating gamblers. She didn't feel like heading inland and losing all her riches.

"What is it?" August asked.

Calico tossed her the bundle, saying, "I want you to steal from the brothel. Word 'as it there's a fine count o' incos in their bank room. Sneak in as a broad an' take 'em."

Wes' forehead wrinkled. "She 'asn't done a sneak mission before; she's too loud."

August went to protest, but Calico cut her off.

"She's the only one sober enough to get in there." Calico shrugged. "There's a first fo' everythin', too," she added as an afterthought. "When I get back, be alive and rich."

August started, "Ay—"

"Where are you goin'?" Wes demanded in an accusatory tone, sitting up straight.

Calico narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm doin' business, don't worry 'bout it."

A dry smile stretched across his face. "'Course you are. When I think 'business' I think 'Briley Calico.' Makes perfect sense."

Hostility flared to life. The twins' deafening silence thickened the air. Their knowing glares dared one another to say what they were both thinking. Cutlasses rested on their hips.

August held her breath. If they fought, who did she support? Wes, the one who gave her a friend, or Calico, the one who gave her power?

"Watch yourself," Calico threatened, finally backing off. She turned her glower to August. "You, too. I expect the best when I get back."

"Aye," August said. She watched Calico stalk off and muttered to Wes, "I'm going to, going to get ready." Today wasn't the day to test Calico's patience.

August used the captain's cabin to change into her new attire then sneered at her reflection from a broken mirror. The long-sleeved dress Calico gave her was made of cheap, clingy material. It exposed curves she lacked and caused her golden hues to appear muddled. She tied on her bonnet and scowled. This was ridiculing.

She returned to the deck, and Wes caught her wrist, demanding, "Blazes, what're you think you're doin'?"

"I'm going to a brothel," she stated bluntly.

"Not with that on your hip." He snorted as he pointed at Risk's sheath. "You'll give yourself away before you enter the place."

"How else will I protect myself?" August argued.

"With your knife. Give it 'ere."

August grumbled under her breath as she shoved Risk into Wes' outstretched hand. She was bare without it. The only time she removed her weapon from her side was when she slept, but even then it was less than an arm's length away.

Wes scanned her top to bottom. "Where's your knife?"

She picked up the bottom of her dress, revealing her weathered boots. "In my left shoe."

"I..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do what you will."

"Aye."

She took one step.

"Wait."

August arched a brow. "What?"

Wes opened his mouth to say something just to think twice and shut it. Conflict saddened his gaze. A deep sigh escaped him, sagging his shoulders and lowering his lips into a bothered frown.

"Be on your guard," he cautioned, unsettlingly grim. "Times are changin'. I feel it in my bones. You can't trust no one these days, remember that." He forced a half-smile. "Keep that in mind, rookie. Come back kickin'."

August pried his grip off of her. This was yet another example of his paranoid behavior, she was sure of it. "Worry about yourself, old man."

She disregarded Wes' protests that he wasn't old and hurried off the Zoroark's Deceit. The faster she finished this task, the better. Ever since she stole the spyglass for Calico and nearly lost her life for it, port towns had become her least favorite places to be in all of Caelum.

As August embarked on her mission, she faced difficulties finding the brothel. She had to consult a man selling rainbow-colored crystals to find its location, shouting to talk over him as he babbled on about how his goods could temporarily evolve Pokémon into invincible forms (which was a load of dung, she might add). The two-story building was hidden among an alley full of voodoo doctors and bounty hunter service huts.

Once inside the brothel, August found it filled to the brim with red-faced men and women alike. Ten minutes ticked by until she found an area where the workers were rushing in and out of towards the back.

August hid behind a grandfather clock and timed how often the workers came by. Soon, she learned the pattern and sprung into action right after the fourth worker finished emptying her pockets. She slid into the room and smirked, resembling a Sableye more than a human.

Below a twinkling chandelier in the center of the study was a gigantic dining table cloaked in a velvet cloth. Shining incos and sparkling gems filled the tabletop so much it overflowed, spilling rivers of gold and jewels onto the carpeted floors. Tall shelves crafted from dark wood lined the walls, full of unique ornaments and expensive scholar books alike.

This is too easy, she thought, excited.

August fished out her empty sack and neared the mountain of riches, wondering where she should start. The diamond the size of her fist seemed perfect. She reached for it.

"Thief!"

August stumbled as the high-pitched cry pierced the air. Her elbow struck a pile of incos, knocking the coins off with loud chinking noises. She swung around to see a colorful bird Pokémon perched atop a coat rack by the door. Zir feathers—ivory, onyx, golden, emerald, and sapphire—ruffled to make zir twice zir size.

The bird stretched zir neck and screeched again, "Thief!"

"Shut up!" August snapped, chucking a nearby book at the Pokémon. The book slammed into the bird's face, and zie collapsed to the floor. "Damn it."

Swiftly, August seized as many riches as she could. She couldn't care less about how much noise she was making since that bird alerted the staff. Fill the sack, fight off whatever guard the brothel had employed, and escape to the Zoroark's Deceit. That's all she had to do. It was simple. Easy, even.

Out of nowhere, an unimpressed voice close to her ear snarked, "Another one?"

A powerful blow struck the back of August's head. The world faded to black.

⚔️

The first thing August registered was pain. Horrible, horrible pain. It felt as if a Hitmonchan had punched her, splintering her skull into a million pieces. Those serrated barbs pierced the sensitive flesh of her brain, giving her the worst migraine of her short 16-year-old life.

She tried to rub her aching head only to find out her hands were bound. Her feet jerked—they couldn't move either. Rope dug into her skin. August's eyes snapped open.

Her vision cleared of disorienting shapes and swirls, revealing an unfavorable sight. She was tied down to a wooden chair in the middle of a tiny room that reeked of bodily waste. Standing in front of her was a short, red-faced woman well into her elderly years. That dratted bird Pokémon squatted on her shoulder.

"Who're you?" August croaked, her throat rough and dry.

"Blasted pirates don't even take the time to learn who they're robbing," the woman huffed. "My name is Madam Lotte, I'm the owner of this establishment." She gestured to her Pokémon. "This beautiful Chatot is my darling Charlie. You should be ashamed of yourself for harming such a comely creature."

Madam Lotte's introduction alone told August exactly what type of person she was dealing with. She inwardly cursed at Calico.

"Madam Lotte," she said, practicing her patience, "if you let me go then I'll get you whatever you want. I have a bag o' Rare Candies on my ship right now."

Madam Lotte scoffed. "How rude of you to assume I would want any of those Rare Candies. I am no crook, unlike yourself! I wouldn't forgive myself if Charlie was infected with Pokérus."

Perhaps the brothel owner had more heart than August had suspected. If a Pokémon consumed enough Rare Candies, zie would undergo a gruesome transformation as zir couldn't keep up with the steroid's rapid growth manipulation. The worst side effect was that the Pokémon became susceptible to the deadly Pokérus, a horrific virus which caused Pokémon to regress into bloodthirsty beasts. Fortunately, the virus lasted just for one to four days. Unfortunately, the infected passed in the following ten days.

"What do you want then?" August demanded. "Money? Murder? I can do both."

"Oh, no, no, no." Madam Lotte wagged her finger. "That isn't what I want at all. I want you to learn a lesson. You're the sixth pirate this week who tried to steal from me. The sixth!"

"The others have nothing to do with me," the teen argued, tugging at her confines.

Madam Lotte clicked her tongue. "But they do. All you filthy pirates are the same. You'll be the perfect example of why no pirate should come in these parts once I'm finished with you." With that, she stalked out of the room.

"Damn you," August cursed.

The runaway dreaded what plans Madam Lotte had in store. Horror stories of pirates being lynched to death for their actions clouded her thoughts. Her head pounded in sync with her racing heart. She needed to escape.

August yanked against her restraints in an attempt to loosen the binds. The ropes budged not an inch. Desperation seized hold of her senses; her wriggling escalated into thrashing. The coarse rope tore apart her wrists, rubbing her skin raw until it bled.

"You're the sorriest thief I've caught yet. You 'aven't any tact at all," a familiar voice taunted behind her.

August snapped, "Say that to my face, dastard."

A lanky boy close to her age took Madam Lotte's place before her. He wore a devilish smirk and a tawny ensemble with a hatchet on his hip. If she didn't know better, she would've assumed he was a pirate himself.

He repeated, "You're a lousy thief."

She bristled. "You—"

"Don't get pissy. You're the one who told me to say it to your torn up face."

"Let me out o' this chair. We'll see how smart you are."

He clicked his tongue. "As entertainin' as that sounds, I'll 'ave to pass. This job is the only thing interestin' 'round 'ere to do."

August clenched her jaw. Her threats were failing her. Rusted gears turned in her brain. She had to change tactics if she wanted to leave this brothel alive.

"You know what's interesting?" she said, her voice strained as she tried to sound chipper. "Being a pirate. Join the Zoroark's Deceit an' you'll never be bored again."

"I've 'eard stories o' the Zoroark's Deceit. The cap'n is a woman."

She nodded, hope igniting within her.

"Word 'as it it's the fiercest ship in the sky with a perfect winnin' streak." He snorted. "Must be a lie if the rest o' the crew's like you."

Oh, how she wished her hands were unbound. Her ears reddened, but she stayed steady as she said, "You won't know what it's like 'til you see it. Captain Calico's kind with sharing her loot. You don't need experience, either. Pledge your loyalty an' you're set." Never had she heard of someone recruiting a new member under this sort of condition.

He bent down to her level, the playfulness of his voice betraying his cold glare. "Riddle me this, you miserable thief. Why should I leave my comfortable life to 'ead off an' adventure with some skyloons?"

"For the fame an' fortune. It's every man's dream to be remembered as someone great. Being a brothel guard won't get you there."

"I see 'ow it is." The boy stepped back and drew his hatchet. He casually tossed and caught his weapon, saying, "You're offerin' quite the job fo' a stranger like me. You must treasure your life."

August narrowed her eyes. No practiced executioner would fiddle with his weapon like that, especially in front of a prisoner while delivering a speech out of all things. She zeroed in on the blade—it was dull. He was playing with her.

Again, he flipped his hatchet. He grasped onto the handle and flexed. "But you're as bad o' a talker as you are a robber. It's too bad," he jeered.

Thwack.

Strands of rope drifted onto the floor.

August quietly watched the boy cut her free from her confines. Coward. Once free, she rubbed her raw wrists and got up.

"Take me to your cap'n," he demanded, pointing his weapon at her. "I'm 'oldin' you to your word, wench."

"Aye. Just get us outta' here." Then she frowned. "My name's August Gold, not 'wench.'"

He replied, "Martim Vaz."

Martim propped open the door and peered out, scanning the hallway. As he inspected, something moved in August's peripheral vision. She glanced skywards to where a blue amphibian was traipsing across the ceiling beams, zir slimy digits sticking to the wood.

"That's my Frogadier, Shade," Martim said. "Now do exactly what I do so we're not caught, wench."

August glared daggers into his back. "Aye."

All she had to do was play nice until they escaped outside, she reassured herself. After this, she'd never have to deal with this brat again.

The two exchanged curt nods slunk out of the room. Shade crept in the shadows ahead of them, giving warnings for when people came near. They traversed two staircases then made it to the ground floor.

"Pretend you're a broad an' lead me to a booth," Martim instructed, wrapping an arm around her and making her flinch. "The jump from the windows is short."

August snapped, "Aye."

He lifted her chin with his finger. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to wretch his grip off of her and slap the smirk off his face.

"Act happy, will you? No one's gonna believe us with a rotten look on your face," he said.

She grumbled, "You like this too much."

"Don't flatter yourself." He rolled his eyes. "I 'ave standards."

August jabbed her elbow into his side, evoking a pained groan. The fake smile on her face became genuine. They slid into the fray of customers and wove through them, gazes locked on a vacant room straight ahead.

One lone, nasally voice bellowed above the racket, "Thief! Thief!"

August glimpsed the Chatot and cursed. So much for secrecy. She shoved people aside, eliciting yelps and shouts as she formed a path to the exit. As she reached the doorway, two small Pokémon appeared. They waited at the threshold, brandishing the blades attached to their arms. She spun around to dash elsewhere only to see Madam Lotte in the center of the lobby with rows of people blocking any possible way out.

She was trapped. Again.

"I trusted you, Mister Vaz!" Madam Lotte shrilled, unafraid to make a scene as she focused on August's accomplice. "I've been more of a mother to you than your real one, and this is how you repay me? I..."

August ignored her rambling. The people blocking her path were stubbornly invested in the conflict; they wanted to see bloodshed. The encircled space offered no furniture for protection or leverage if they were to fight. And then there was the fact that she was bringing a small knife to a Pokémon fight.

I hate port towns, she thought bitterly.

Someone came beside August, calling out to Madam Lotte, "Why don't you spare us all the trouble an' let my lass go? This ain't a fight you'll win."

An ashamed blush dusted August's cheeks. Wes gave her a disappointed look. She could hear his lecturing already.

Madam Lotte disagreed, "I think not. That good-for-nothing thief tried to steal from me and my hard-working girls. She'll pay for it."

Wes released an airy, humorless chuckle which drained the energy from the air and hushed the onlookers. His grin ceased, taking the light from his eyes with it. A storm brewed in his heterochromatic glare. Moments like these were when August remembered he, too, was a Calico.

The first mate cracked his fingers, replying, "No, she won't. You're gonna let us walk free."

"I am not one to be trampled on. No pirate will take advantage of this establishment anymore. Pawniard, seize them," Madam Lotte ordered.

Wes hunched over with a grunt as his muscles convulsed. His now midnight-colored veins slithered and swelled beneath his skin, ghoulishly protruding from his body. Pitch black blood coursed through his system and seeped into his eyes, removing his whites and irises.

Horrified gasps sounded at the sight of Wes' malformed appearance. He was the creature of nightmares: a magician in his magic form.

Madam Lotte turned ashen pale. "P-Pawniard, go!"

"Venae Tenebris," Wes growled.

He pressed his hands together then carefully pulled them apart with a shadowy mass pulsating between his palms. With one swift movement, he launched the Dark Pulse into Madam Lotte. The attack met its mark with a sickening crack. She dropped unconscious in a puddle of jelled muck.

"Leave," Wes snarled to August as the screams and panicking began. "Now."

The bloodlust in his pure black eyes chilled her to the core. Not needing to be told twice, she ran.

⚔️

Hours later, August found herself wanting to set yet another isle ablaze out of fury. To her ire, Martim had followed her back to the Zoroark's Deceit and presented Calico with the sack of treasures August had looted from the brothel's bank room. Calico accepted the bribe and welcomed him aboard.

August yearned to shove Martim and his dung-eating grin off the Zoroark's Deceit never to be seen again. She imagined shoving him off the ship as she stormed off to the med cabin. Unsurprisingly, two figures were occupying it.

Aromatisse clasped her paws to her heart and hummed. Her eyelashes fluttered as psychic energy collected in front of her. The magenta-feathered Pokémon plucked the neon discs from the air then hopped to Wes' side. She pressed her Heal Pulse to his bleeding wounds and chirped.

August winced from her position in the doorway, knowing how much it stung.

"You get used to it," Wes said, noticing her reaction. He sucked in air through his teeth as Aromatisse prodded the cut on his stomach. "Damn Pawniard. I didn't think they'd attack after I took care o' their mistress."

"They didn't stand a chance against you." She stepped inside and leaned against the wall. "I... thank you fo' coming." Her face colored red, embarrassed by her own sappy words. "I mean it."

"No problem." Instead of antagonizing her like how anyone else on the ship would have, Wes cracked a smile. "Think o' it as a lesson learned. Remember what you did wrong an' don't do it again."

"So what you're saying is don't recruit anybody like that Vaz dastard."

Wes started to laugh only to break into a coughing fit. Aromatisse smacked him square between his shoulders, chirping in annoyance.

August stared at the nurse Pokémon, reminded of another pirate's injury. When she'd spoken to Calico earlier, she'd spotted bruises on her captain's neck. It bothered the teen; how did Calico receive such strange markings on her neck of all places?

"Chin up, rookie," Wes said, interrupting her thoughts. "You look depressed standin' there like that."

"I'm thinking about food," she lied. "I'm starving."

Embarrassing herself any further by asking a seemingly dumb question was the last thing on August's mind. She feigned nonchalance and ignored that sinking feeling in her gut. Calico's mysterious bruises could wait another day.

‒‒‒‒‒

⚔️ TERMS ⚔️

Rare Candies [rair can-dees]
noun
Slang term for brawling steroids that cause Pokémon's growth rates to more than double while also causing the user to become susceptible to Pokérus.

Pokérus [pohke-ee-ruhs]
noun
A dangerous Pokémon virus which causes the host to fall into a murderous trance where zie will attack anything that provokes zir. It only affects Pokémon who've had their immune systems damaged by brawling steroids. Symptoms last one to four days, and the Pokémon will die ten days afterward from nerve damages.