Can't breathe. Can't see. Can't hear. Can't...feel.

The thorns were digging into her face, her limbs, and her neck. Her lips had been forced shut by the brambles, which had started to spread their roots into her body. The blood was starting to really flow now, and she wondered if the reason why she didn't bleed as much before was because the thorns were sucking up the blood. They certainly felt like living things, tightening against her body in a synchronized manner with an eerie feeling of sentience to them.

Her eyes had been spared by the thorns, which had just about missed clawing out either one of them. She could make out the light seeping through cracks in the shell that covered her body. Was it over? Is this how it was all meant to end? In such a dull, bland manner?

She had lived her life wishing to die a grandiose death in battle someday. A death fitting of a warrior, a Captain, and a master at the art of close combat. Yet, one day, she found herself adding a title she never thought she'd add to her name: a mother. A mother. The father had never gotten the time to absorb this fact. She killed him in cold blood, crushing his skull in her hands in a fit of rage.

And all that rage for what? For the fact that he had gotten her pregnant? Or for the fact that she knew damn well that a penniless scumbag like him would never give a damn about their son? Thinking about that now, it was a little of both. It wasn't as though she regretted killing him. Him being alive wouldn't have changed much of what occurred afterwards anyway.

It was when Cassian was born that she forgot her wish to die a glorious death. She gained a sense of danger after his birth and stopped flying through battlefields, mowing down soldiers and pirates like a wild beast. She learned how to plan, how to protect herself during battle and lessen the burden she continuously placed on her body by using detached orbs to navigate the blind spots of her enemies. And of course, it was with the help of Rafael and, oddly enough, Captain Veltmann that this was ever possible.

But of course, that had not changed who she was at her core.

She found herself using Cassian like a toy when he could barely walk, taking him to the battlefield and risking his death again and again. Sure, he was somewhat immortal, but there were numerous natural dangers he faced. Poison and indirect injuries like shrapnel could still kill him, she was told.

"You really should smile more, Lyz." Rosemary had once told her. She was one of the kindest girls imagineable with a sweet tooth and a love for botany, and disliked Lyza's distant and uncaring attitude when it came to life.

The brambles began to tighten around her, squeezing tightly enough to stop the blood flow to her head. Hell, was there even blood left in her body at this point? Had it already gotten to the point where she had become a plant through and through?

She felt something begin to prickle and itch. It started from the tips of her fingers, and began to crawl up to her forearms and shoulders. Oh, boy. Here we go. She thought, unable to move her body an inch. Well. If this is how I go out, I'd rather end it on my feet.

Like a thousand spiders crawling up her body, the itch spread fast. She grit her teeth underneath her sealed lips, and realized half her vision had gone. Her left eye had been pierced by the brambles, and was bleeding now.

I'm sorry, Cassian. Don't forgive me.

* * * * *

Battle Log Ten

The Grand Dragoon

"It's gone. Her Ley." Rafael said softly. The others were screaming, yelling at him. It wasn't possible, they said. Or at least, they all said something along those lines. He couldn't make out their words. Everything was muffled and numb, including their voices and the feeling of cold water droplets against his skin. He knew Lyza would die eventually. Nobody wanted to believe it, but he knew. Lyza knew as well, he thought. She might have even wanted to die in battle someday.

But Cassian. He was a boy. A boy who gave it his all, a boy to whom his mother was a goddess and nothing less. Was he dead too? It was possible.

Whatever the case, he was the Captain now, and he had to get them out of this mess quickly. A ship without any Ley users aboard was useless here.

"I'm turning the ship around!" He yelled, and spun the wheel to the left as far as it would go. "But Ra- Captain, the boy could still be alive!" One of the boys, Potter, grabbed his shoulder. He was a young kid with a head full of dreams and little strength to back it up. "If you want to rescue the boy, you go ahead! I won't be going with you." Rafael said, swatting his hand away.

But Potter remained stubborn. "I thought you and the boy were close. I thought you were family!" He said, putting his mouth close to his ear. And he was right, every word of his was.

"I can't throw all of your lives away to rescue Cassian! That's the last thing both he and Lyza would want!" He replied, curling up his fingers to form a fist. He had a crew to watch over now, and there was no way he was going to risk all their lives for a suicide mission.

"We're not afraid!"

"That's Lyza's son we're talkin about! Turn the ship around, Captain!"

He heard the protests, but it was the familiar touch of a small hand against his arm that finally made him turn his head and open his eyes. "Where's Cassian?" Tina asked, staring up at him with eyes devoid of emotion.

"Rafael?" He grit his teeth, trying to block out her voice. But he just couldn't ignore it. If he abandoned a kid in need now, that would haunt him for as long as he lived. And that was a punishment he would choose death over. With a heavy heart and a trembling voice, he prepared to order the crew to prepare for a head-on attack.

Before he could, though, he saw someone step on the deck. He recognised his appearance through a wanted poster and testimony from other members of the fleet, but all his attention was focused on the boy slumped over his shoulder. "Cassian." He whispered, his voice laced with fear. It was not relief he was feeling, but rather a stifling horror at the sight of Michael Caine standing atop the deck, surrounded by the crew. Or perhaps, in a way, he was the one surrounding them with his overpowering Ley that made his head spin. With a complete lack of empathy, he tossed the unconscious boy to the floor and turned his gaze to the silent group of pirates surrounding him. They did not need to sense Ley to understand the danger they were in.

"Well, aren't you all well behaved? Nice and quiet. That's good." He said, walking past Cassian and towards the upper deck, where Rafael stood behind the ship's wheel. "Which one of you is her right-hand?"

"That would be me." Rafael said, leaping down and stepping forward to meet Caine. Some of the others gasped and made motions with their hands in concern, but the more experienced ones stood motionless. When push came to shove, Rafael was as ballsy as Lyza ever was. He stood with his face just inches from Caine's, the singular drop of sweat that slid down his brow the only thing that gave away his fear. Caine returned the gaze, his eyes glaringly sharp and piercing under the shadow of his hat.

After a few more seconds, he was the one that stepped back first. "Alright, alright. I've seen enough." He said with his hands raised in front of his chest, almost in apology. "You're all a bit more interesting than I thought. I'll let you live."

Rafael sighed in relief, and immediately choked on his own breath as Potter yelled from the upper deck. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You killed our-" He was unable to finish the sentence as two gunners tackled him to the ground and covered his mouth. "Get...off...you musclebound idiots!" He said. Or so one could say, but nobody understood his furious mumbling through the hand.

As wordless as ever, Caine turned to the portside end of the ship, where there was yet another ship with a powerful captain aboard it. This one, unlike Lyza, was a real problem. She was right about him expending needless energy on her crewmates. And it wasn't just the captain either. A second powerful concentration of Ley was aboard that ship, eminating from what could only be the vice-captain of whoever was aboard.

Damn it all. This shit is gonna take up the whole day to get through.

He turned to Rafael, who was kneeling beside Cassian and checking for his pulse. "Congratulations on your promotion." He muttered, and walked towards the stern of the ship to get a better view.

Everyone in his way stepped aside wisely.

* * * * *

As the sounds of gunfire, yelling, and the swirling waves caused by the ongoing fight between Cotton and Martinez continued, there was a certain spot in the sea that still offered a peace of mind to the people aboard. The top deck of the ship was covered in grass, cacti, and multiple different species of wall climbing plants that decorated the walls, and the sweet aroma of roses drifted through the air around it like a whirlwind of various scents.

A woman stood among the dozens of rose bushes, all of which bore bright orange roses. Her big, fluffy cap was fittingly the same colour, and had a massive rose-shaped crest in the center. "I so do love blooming season. Don't you, Houzan?" She asked the burly man with the short goatee that stood behind her. He watched as she plucked one of the flowers and caressed it in her pale hands gently. "Princess...it seems Lyza is dead." He said, observing her face closely. Emilia was one to smile against all odds, but this was one of those rare occasions where even her smile faded just the slightest bit. But he saw no surprise or grief in her blue eyes; only a sad kind of acceptance. "Yes. It seems so." She replied, sounding as though she was waking from a dream. "But I don't think its unexpected. I think to die in battle will bring her more pride than she could ever earn from battle."

Slowly, but surely, the smile returned to her face. "I only hope for the safety of her son. She loved him more than anyone alive. Though I doubt even she had a firm grasp on that, I know love when I see it." Her eyes turned to Houzan, who blankly stared forward. "Right?"

He remained silent.