Eldovian Era 1710, 24th day of the 12th month

Sore. So sore that Ebony wasn't sure she'd make it all the way up to the crow's nest before lunch time. As she heaved herself into position however, Isaac could only watch in amusement.

"Honestly I think you did well to last as long as you did," he commented.

Ebony sighed, of course he'd seen. He had a view of just about everyone from up here.

"Was that supposed to be support?" asked Ebony.

Isaac nodded, "It'll help if you do the stretches he taught you. Though apart from that I'm going to assume you'll feel pretty miserable for a couple of days".

Ebony sighed, bowed her head in disappointment. She would never have insisted if she knew it was this awful.

"Have a good day," Isaac said, "I'm off to bed".

And so he descended below deck, leaving Ebony alone in her suffering.

The suffering in question was not helped by the stretches, if anything it made Ebony more sore and tired than before. Though it was possible she was doing them wrong considering the confined space she was in.

When it came time for her to come and judge the fights below, the first of five groups stepping up to compete, she waved down and told them to pick someone that had been eliminated. She was not making the trip down more times than was necessary.

Jeremiah took up the judging position without complaint.

Meanwhile, Ebony alternated between her embroidery, watching the waters around the ship, and thinking about the sparring session between Rassa and Aegin last night. She had only ever seen the two fight once before, and they'd been a whole lot more violent than the style they'd used last night. The style from last night was so delicate and fluid. One barely moved from one step to the next and yet such small movements could mean the opponent's loss.

Ebony had at first been eager to learn, but the longer she watched Rassa and Aegin spar, the more she felt like she was in over her head. How could she ever learn to react like that? To know when to make the next move, or even what the next move would be. It was all rather daunting, and within her stressed self, she had collapsed under the weight of the rope and the strain on her muscles.

Still, she'd asked for this, the least she could do is see where it led.

The competition below her on the deck continued. She rarely looked down to watch considering her fear, but she still heard the results from Jeremiah's loud calls. It seemed the points system for the round was based on how quickly the rounds ended.

If an opponent won within 10 moves, they'd get ten points. Between 10-20 moves, 9 points, and so on. A loss would constitute points being subtracted. It worked in the same system as the winner, however many points the winner won, was however many points the loser lost. As such, the fights tended to drag out, but this seemed to be a norm for the most part. The point system seemed to have been designed for this purpose.

It was only the first group who were fighting today, this group included Midas, but no other members that Ebony knew or had spoken to before. She'd seen all of their fights though, so she knew they were all adequate fighters. Midas swept through all his opponents to earn a total of 24 points, none of his fights had lasted longer than 57 moves.

As they were watching the final fight of the round, Ebony looked up from her embroidery to survey the ocean around the ship briefly. The horizon looked clear all the way around, and she turned back to her embroidery, only to pause and glance back up again. Had it been a trick of the light? For the briefest instant the horizon hadn't looked so clear as it had all day.

She turned back to look out past the starboard stern. Her eyes squinted and she blinked to make sure her eyes were clear.

There, right on the horizon, what was that black spot?

Ebony pocketed her embroidery and took out the spyglass that Isaac had given her, pulling it out and looking through it carefully. She had marvelled before at how it had magnified objects that were many lengths away. Now...now she was just grateful.

There, closing in from the horizon, a ship with black sails, that could only mean one thing.

Pirates.

As Ebony went to shout to the deck, she caught the glimpse of something else out of the ordinary, and she paused for a second.

It was more than one ship.

Ebony's eyes narrowed as she put her fear behind her, leaning over the side of the crow's nest to shout down at the rowdy sailors on deck.

"Pirates!" she shouted, "Pirates to Starboard Stern!"

It took a moment, as if some of the crew hadn't heard the call at first. Midas had heard though, and he ordered silence immediately as he took out his own spyglass and pointed it in the direction Ebony had indicated as he bounded up to the quarter deck. Jeremiah followed him. After a moment, Jeremiah cursed.

"Damn! And here I was thinking it was going to be smooth sailing. Alright men, prepare for a fight, we're too slow to remain ahead of them for long!"

Midas shouted orders to those in the crew, and they hurriedly got to work, the competition forgotten at the sudden threat.

***

"Should we drop some of the cargo?" asked Midas.

"Oh sure, just give them what they want," Jeremiah grumbled, "Of course not, this is our cargo and we're going to protect it".

Midas sighed, "Captain, that's three frigates. They're built for speed, not to mention they've no doubt been modified for some ugly fights".

"Are you saying we haven't got a chance, because that isn't like the First Mate I've appointed," Jeremiah frowned.

Midas's gaze hardened, "Very well, I'll get John to get the gunpowder ready".

"Get Rassa out of bed if he isn't already up," Jeremiah said.

Midas wanted to question what the kid had to do with this, but decided against it seeing the serious look on Jeremiah's face.

***

Rassa was roused by the hustle and bustle above deck. It was far busier than the average work or fight. Something must have happened. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, climbing out of his hammock only to see Midas making his way down the deck towards Rassa's corner.

"Good, you're up, Captain's asking for you," said Midas.

Rassa frowned, "What happened?"

"Pirates," Midas said, "Closing fast".

Rassa frowned, Pirates? He made his way to where Jeremiah stood on the quarter deck, switching between giving out order and keeping an eye on the approaching ships through his spyglass.

"Captain?"

"Good, you're here," Jeremiah said, "Any way you can get an idea of their abilities?"

"From here?" asked Rassa, "At night maybe, but not during the day, the shadows are too thin".

Jeremiah cursed.

"What's wrong?"

"There are three of them, and they're coming right at us. Even at a distance," Jeremiah admitted, "It's suspicious".

It certainly was. While it was possible that they'd spotted the ship before Ebony had spotted them, the way they were sailing, without any indication of having turned to pursue...they must have been alerted to the presence of the Miranda somehow.

"Anything in your arsenal that can delay them?" asked Jeremiah, "Pirates are persistent bastards, but they won't pursue us to the end of the earth if it's not worth it to them".

"And if it is?" asked Rassa.

Jeremiah's expression turned grim, "Let's just hope we come across something to help us before that happens".