Title: "Shiver Me Timbers" (though originally just known as "Island 1: Choice A")

Status: Finished... I guess? (this was originally meant to be the first part of a full anthology)

Last touched: Late 2022, initially published on Wattpad for the Shiver Me Timbers 2022 contest (but I didn't complete more than this part and soon unpublished it)

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The last thing Harlow remembered before she had blacked out was the water. She remembered the sting of salt burning her eyes and nostrils, her lungs screaming as the tsunami-sized wave ate at the boat and overtook her, the sound of her wet coughs and hoarse cries as she attempted—and failed—to attract help. Everything from that point on was fuzzy.

Harlow sucked in a breath as her eyes shot open, immediately regretting it as she discovered the water still lurking in her throat and lungs. She curled over and hacked, seawater and bitter bile landing on the knotted wood floor.

"Aye, thank goodness you're alright, Captain," a voice murmured, joined by a harsh clapping on her back. "You looked mighty strange just now, like you were drowning on air." Harlow turned, finding the source of the voice: a young man seemingly a year or so her elder, with dark skin and close-cropped hair. The girl eyed his outfit. Am I hallucinating? Who'd be wearing something like that in modern day? For he was wearing a flaxen-colored tunic with large sleeves, strangely baggy black pants, a pair of worn boots with laces that ran from foot to shin, and a multitude of leather belts that seemed to be keeping the whole ordeal together.

The man frowned, suddenly gripping her chin in a fierce hold. "Did you take a hit to the head? I ought to take you to Wenren; he'll be able to bandage you up better than I will."

Harlow frowned and rubbed her eyes. Maybe I am just hallucinating. I'm probably unconscious right now and this is just a really interesting dream. Harlow had never been actively aware while she'd been dreaming before, but she chose to ignore that fact. Still, when she opened her eyes again, everything was exactly the same. The young man in the tunic was still standing before her, the creaky wood was swaying beneath her, and—she realized startlingly enough—the open ocean stretched out on all sides.

"I'm gonna be sick," Harlow hissed, bending over at the waist.

"Not on the deck!" A new voice cried. She didn't bother to look up—what did it matter if she saw who had spoken?

The young man in the tunic groaned and grabbed Harlow by the forearm. "Go get Wenren, you scallywag!" She heard the hurried clip of boots on wood as whoever had spoken hurried to fulfill the task they'd been given.

Harlow was vaguely aware of someone pulling her down into a sitting position. "Where am I?" She croaked.

"Well, we're about a week out from shore, so... I'm sure you can figure it out from there. No further help needed for one of the greatest navigators to ever grace the deck of the Serpent." The wink the man gave her was far from comforting. She supposed she should have been flattered by the compliment.

"Jonah, Wenren's on his way!"

This time Harlow took the time to raise her eyes from the boarded floor of the ship, finding that the 'scallywag' the tunic-wearing man had referred to before was a fair-skinned, freckled sailor with a mane of tousled brown hair.

"Good. We'll just stay here to wait, then," Jonah advised, settling down beside her. "Seeing as the captain has apparently lost her sea legs." He chuckled, before noticing the furrow of the freckled sailor's brow. "Talk to me, Pen. What's going on?"

They shifted, grey eyes flitting across the horizon. "When I was going to fetch Wenren, I spotted something strange, sir. It was like a ship... But not on the water."

Jonah barked out a laugh. "What do you mean? As far as I know, there are two things that make up a ship: being a ship, and being on the water." Harlow barely held back an eye roll, having no idea what to make of that.

Pen didn't appear amused either. "It wasn't the shape of a ship, just the size of one. It's still far off in the distance, but I have no idea how fast it is. Could be upon us in minutes."

"Well, shit."

Harlow scrambled to her feet. Something like instinct was tugging at her gut. "Gather 'round, mates!" Somehow, her voice managed to echo across the upper deck, answered by the footsteps of a dozen sailors. She gulped nervously when she realized she had an audience, but the words seemed to roll right off her tongue, as if she'd been speaking them for years. "Pen, get an eye on whatever it is that's approaching us. Zhang, grab a crew and man the sails. Jonah, you're with me. And the rest of you... Get your weapons ready. We're going to blow the man down."

A chorus of ayes and excited shouts met Harlow's ears, and she smiled with satisfaction. This was her crew, and they'd get the job done. Whatever confusion she'd felt before had dissipated; she'd picked up her role with ease.

It was several agonizingly long minutes before Pen shouted down from the crow's nest. "It's a dragon, captain!"

"Shiver me timbers," Harlow muttered in disbelief. She approached the railing and peered out at the growing shape on the horizon. It was hard to tell without a spyglass, but she could have sworn that she saw the silhouette of wings—like a bird larger than any she'd ever seen.

A torrent of rain hit the ship all at once, a distinct contrast between the clear skies they'd had only moments before. The air rumbled in what Harlow could only think to describe as a growl.

"Well, well, if it isn't my dear sister?" The voice carried on the wind, magically amplified by the fierce wind that suddenly threatened to tip the boat. "Having fun manning your little boat?"

"Da-xia," Harlow whispered; the name tugged in her mind, familiar somehow. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you down, of course," the voice cooed, and the dragon finally glided close enough for Harlow to notice the young woman perched on the creature's back. "Consider this revenge."

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My Thoughts:

I remember not being super satisfied with this piece, even when I had just written it. I'm pretty sure it was because none of the prompts really piqued my interest, so I went with the most tolerable one with the idea that I wanted to complete the contest.

Looking back on it... Yeah, I have about the same opinion. Not my best work, but maybe that's just me being hypercritical of myself. It doesn't quite fit my usual style.

I like the name Harlow. Wonder where that one came from?

There are a few descriptions I like here and there. I feel like the beginning is a decently strong start as well.

I honestly wish I had continued this story, just because of the cliff hanger. I actually quite like the last little revelation and the dialogue I used. No clue where I was going with it, though. Would Harlow defeat her sister? Would there be more dragons? What is her sister taking revenge from?

Guess we'll never know.