The crew does not talk about what is kept below deck.

They are pirates. Loud, careless, always boasting about what they take and who they kill. But not this. When it comes to whatever is hidden beneath the ship, they go quiet. Questions are dismissed, and anyone who goes down there does not stay long.

You were not meant to be here. The ship raided your settlement in the middle of the night. No one saw it coming. It was just a dark shape on the horizon, moving fast. By the time you understood what it was, it was already too late.

They boarded without hesitation. No warning, no negotiation. Hands dragged you from where you stood, ignoring anything you said, anything you tried to do. You were brought aboard like the rest of what they take.

At least, on their boat, you are safe.

There is nothing left on land. The Catfolk rule what remains standing, the Dogfolk take the rest by force, and humans are left with nowhere to go. So they turn to the sea, convinced it is the last place where they can still live freely. Out here, there are no kingdoms. No armies. Just water.

The pirates did not physically constrain you, but that changes nothing. The ocean is your jailer. You have nowhere to run to. If you tried to escape, they would throw you overboard and be done with it.

Since you are on board, there is a detail that has been unsettling you. The lower deck... That's the only place where you are not allowed. NEVER. Captain's orders. You have noticed that the pirates are loud, merry and often unruly. But they all obey that one rule and avoid the lower deck as if it was cursed.

Curiosity has been building, until you can no longer contain it. You wait until the pirates are too busy drinking and singing on the main deck to notice you. You take a few careful steps towards the lower deck at first, as if expecting to get suddenly struck by lightning. But nothing happens. So you keep walking.

The air changes as soon as you step down. It is damp, heavier, harder to breathe. Water stains spread along the wood, darker toward the far end, where the light barely reaches.

That is where you hear it.

Chains dragging slowly across the floor.

Something moves.

At first, it is only a shape in the dim light. Too still. Too large to ignore. The chains tighten with a sharp sound as it shifts, metal scraping against wood.

You step closer.

And then you see her clearly.

Fins. Scales. A tail forced into too little space, bound by heavy chains. Skin marked by dryness. Shoulders tense, barely holding her upright.

And eyes.

Sharp. Furious. Fully aware.

This is not something the pirates caught. This is someone they took.

"Leave."

Her voice is strained, dry, but it carries authority.