While a trial by combat was not an unconventional method on the Jade Islands, she had taken a risk to not fight the duel herself. Had this taken place in The Greenlands, half of the crew of the Hallowed Harpoons would close in on her, demanding to pick her, arguing that they stood the most chance to defeat the monster who that had killed their Boyar and Captain. She trod out of the cave, not saying a word. People bowed but didn't volunteer.

She would have to fight herself, so it seemed.

Then, on the beach, a two-belted Jade Daughter approached her, a steel dagger flat in her hands. The white rose in her long black hair had shrunk up and wilted in the span of a few hours.

"I will fight Selachii," she said, her voice strong yet hiding a past full of sorrow. "He disgraced me, conquered my Chastity with his Lust. It wasn't his to take. Let me have my revenge, Boyar."

Before she could give her blessing, Pan jumped in between them, "Greenie, you're a madwoman! But I'll be your mad man, the saviour of Greenies too green for Cove of Elo, and the one who slays Selachii."

Alex hesitated. Kalin had been Pan's father, and though she felt sympathy for Pan wanting to avenge him, the Jade Daughter had asked first.

Pan closed an eye. "Why aren't you saying yes?"

"Because I'll kill Selachii, Bino!" the Jade Daughter jibed.

"What did you call me?" In a flash, Pan snatched his dagger from his belt and pointed it at her."I dare you to repeat that!"

"Bino." She pressed her bosom against the tip of Pan's dagger, a thread of blood trickling down. Then cocked her head, her mouth inches from his. "White demon."

Before Pan could do something he'd later regret, Alex pushed him away from her. The red in his eyes widened; he had not expected that. In his confusion, she managed to grab his sword-arm, twisting his wrist.

"Harm her, and you can forget Selachii." Power coursed through her veins. "I mean it, Pan. I give you what you want but don't hurt her."

Pan spat on the ground. "Who do you think you are?"

"You all just elected me to be the next Pirate Boyar," she said, chuckling.

"That doesn't make you a real Boyar, Greenie. You're no Captain either. I wanted to do you a favour. I don't need your permission to fight the Silver Shark." 

She was rendered speechless as he jerked loose. Flicking his white hair, he slid the dagger back into his belt, then he shoved her aside. When he passed the Jade Daughter, he bumped his shoulder into her collarbone.

"He's not wrong," the Jade daughter said, wincing as she rubbed the painful spot. "Kalin was powerful because he was a respected Captain too. You earned half of your shells because of drunken dimwits without a brain, and you earned the other half because your name isn't Learta or Selachii. You're like a Greenlander Lady. The diamond on their husband's sword—beautiful but useless."

"I take it you haven't met a lot of Greenlander ladies," Alex jested.

"Have you?"

"Yes," her rash tongue said. "They look after the children, teach, arrange the household, and keep up with important gossip. They influence their husbands. Their life wasn't for me, but they are not useless." She let out a soft snort as she remembered the dark-brown spots on Lady Victoria's face. "And not all are beautiful either."

The Jade daughter shrugged. "Then you are worse off than a Greenlander Lady."

"Is that Envy, I hear?" Alex said with a grin.

The Jade Daughter huffed and left.

Alex scratched her head. She looked around, then up. Above the entrance of the cave was a narrow ledge that jutted out twenty feet above the pirates' heads. Like King Thomas sitting high and mighty on his platform, she would inspect the duel from afar. She heaved herself up on the rocks and climbed all the way to the top.

When she was there,  she didn't sit down and let her legs dangle from the edge. Though she was in pain, she remained standing, her arms crossed on her back, the stance of a General inspecting his troops. But while General George received the attention of every man, from the lowest soldier to Captain Jonathan himself, all backs were facing her.

Doubt crept up on her. They had chosen her to be their Boyar—that must mean something, mustn't it?

On the beach, the duel had begun in chaos. Pan had announced he would fight Selachii, and the two men had started circling, their hand on the handle, but neither drawing their weapon yet. Around them, a human wall of hundreds were murmuring and rattling the coins in their pockets. Lives were at stake, but even now, the Pirates were betting.

Selachii swept from side to side, the tooth on his chain following the movements. His fingers brushed over his belt as he jumped and pretended to strike. Pan responded to the feint by taking a step into Selachii's direction. Then they continued to move around each other like two jellyfish floating in the water.

Soon, the human wall began to shout, moving closer and demanding to see blood. The tumult didn't seem to bother Selachii or Pan. Both men kept staring at each other, turning and waiting for the other to make the first real move.

A quick snatch. The sharp lowering sunlight bounced off the blade of Pan's dagger and flashed before Alex's eyes. Her heart thumped in her throat and the two daggers clashed like swords.

When she had a clear vision again, Selachii was slashing and hacking, but Pan twisted and spun around, forcing Selachii to rip a hole into the air. Pan wouldn't be able to win the fight on strength. He had to deflect and tire out the old man.

And thus the dance of death was performed. The young Kraken jumped out of the way of Selachii's attacks and crossed the circle in quick dashes, only striking in defence.

Despite the cowardly approach, Pan was the first to hit flesh. Blood streamed down from Selachii's left leg, leaving a trail of brown blobs wherever he hobbled with awkward steps, which sent the Pirates into a frenzy.

Dominated by the God of Wrath, Selachii grabbed Pan by the shirt. Pan kicked his feet against the man's chest, his cheek receiving a slash as they both tumbled to the ground.

Pan crawled away to the edge of the circle. He wiped his face and studied the blood on his hand, then he looked at Selachii struggling to get up.

"Why are you hesitating? Get up, finish him," Alex mumbled to herself. Although she had never fought a duel with daggers, she would have never hesitated like that. Perhaps she should have fought herself. Gain respect.

Pan scrambled up and charged ahead, his weapon clutched in his hand like a spear. Selachii turned to his side quickly enough to avoid a potential jab in the neck. Pan crashed into the human wall, right where Nagi was standing. The helmsman of the Kraken's Kiss flicked him around and pushed him back into the circle.

Pan charged again. Dagger met dagger; one hand cutting the other. This was what fighting was. Lunges, strikes, and the screams of pain. Blood flowing, but neither party giving up. The taste of death hung in the air. 

Selachii swept his good leg under Pan's feet. Pan tottered but didn't fall. His torso was free, however, and Selachii swung the dagger across Pan's body, his green shirt instantly darkening. 

Pan gritted his teeth and seized his opponent's sword arm.

The duel wasn't over yet. Half a heartbeat—that was all Pan needed to drive his dagger in between Selachii's ribs. The Silver Shark faltered, his legs trembling beneath him.

Alex felt more alive than ever. She enjoyed every moment when Pan jerked out the dagger, and the man slumped face-first to the sand. His limbs jerked twice, then nothing. The Gods had spoken. Selachii was guilty and had paid the highest price.

But there was more. Pan wobbled. He sank to his knees, his blood mingling with Selachii's. Captain Ilona rushed towards him, just in time for him to fall into her arms.

"Pa-an!" Alex yelled. Her voice shook. "No," she stammered. "No, no, no."

"Oh, yes," a voice behind her said. Nela. She had snuck up on her and had joined her on the ledge. "The Gods make more than one judgement today."

Alex rushed to make her way down to the beach. It was just a scratch. She could help clean the wound, bandage it, pray to stop the bleeding. 

She hadn't even left the ledge when Nela grabbed her by the arm and with a teasing smile, pulled her close. "The Gods have spoken. You can't do anything for the boy."

"I can." Alex snatched her arm, releasing it. "The Gods put me here to help save Pan."

"No, young Boyar. Your task is to start digging." Nela had far too much pleasure in the situation. "And dig a hole big enough for three. Kalin's bloodline ends today."

Alex lowered herself onto the rocks and went down, foot by foot, yet steadily. She understood it was her duty as the new Boyar to bury the old. But not Selachii. For all she cared, the Silver Shark could rot on the beach until there was nothing left of him but bones and the tooth on his chain.

And Pan. By the time she landed back into the sand, half of the Kraken's Kiss had gathered around him. Bottles of Palm tears were passed along, the shots left in them poured over Pan. Dag was collecting neckerchiefs, bandanas and other pieces of cloth, and Kaisa tied them together.

Alex's eyes met Ilona's, a stare of accusation blazing in them. She didn't dare to approach the crew. Pan would have to live. Gods in the Heavenly Halls, for her own sake, they couldn't call Pan to the sky.

"Start digging," Nela shouted for above.

"With what?" Alex scoffed. "There's no shovel here."

"Use what the Gods of Virtue have blessed you with."

Looking at her bare hands, her eye fell on a large cockle shell by her feet. She picked it up, sat down on her knees and began digging in the loose sand. She dug up fragments of other shells, as well as pebbles in various sizes, and bits of half decomposing crustaceans. A bit deeper, she found a bottle, the label faded but not gone, and a sandal with leather so fragile the straps broke off when she cast it away.

Then came the hard part.  Without complaining, she soldiered through the sand becoming harder and stickier with every scoop she added to the growing piles of sand around her. She kept on going when, out of nowhere, water appeared at the bottom of the pit, turning the grave into a pool. Then, the cockle broke. She grumbled, swallowed the maddening pain in her ribs and used her hands to continue digging.  Even when the salty seawater started stinging, she held her tongue.

But then groups of pirates gathered around her, a handful at first, but gradually more. None offered to help. They cracked open fresh bottles, chewed on salted meat, and reminisced over previous pillages.

"Hey," she said to catch their attention. "I could use some help."

They ignored her.

"Sir," she asked the three-belted Red Grin Raider who was standing closest to her. "I could really use a hand."

"... waited until the new moon. They never saw us coming." He continued talking to the four-belted Palm Shadow "Best loot we had in a decade. Bless the Gods for gracing the dices."

"You are our servant, Greenie. You don't get no help. The Gods are all the help you need," a Driftwood Dog with a thick accent told her.

"You lot have strange traditions," she muttered, then continued digging.

When she finally had a hole deep enough to bury the old Boyar, the wall of people that had watched the duel between Selachii and Pan had now clustered around her. Of course, none had considered transporting Kalin's body from the cave to the beach.

The Boyar would have to do it. She had learnt that now.

She returned to the cave and stood in front of Kalin, holding her breath. In her thirteen years in the mortal world, death had not been a stranger to her but never before did she have to carry a decaying corpse. How would she even do that? She was strong, but not strong enough to carry what used to be a hundred-fifty pound man. Carrying was out of the question—he hadn't decomposed to the point that he was just rags and bones. Towing, then. But with what?

She curled her fingers around her hair. There was no rope nor cloth. She couldn't use her own shirt; she would rather be struck down by the Gods than walk outside bare-chested and unleash the Goddess of Lust in all of these men. She pulled at the ends of her hair.

Her hair.

From Kalin's right boot poked the hilt of a dagger.  Useless in both the Heavenly Halls or the Seven Hells—wherever he was—she snatched it.

She braided her hair into two parts then cut both off them off. She tied both ends to each other, then fastened them around the corpse's middle. Then she pulled, holding her breath and blessing her empty stomach for not hurling when she was forced to breathe.

She turned into a sweaty mess while the corpse flopped around, his limbs moving unnaturally, the black stumps that used to fingers and toes touching her ankles, giving her nightmares for years to come.

The Pirates all turned, one by one, as she brought the old Boyar out under the sinking sun. Some sniggered, some bumped their elbows into their mate's arms and pointed at her. Nela scrutinised her. 

Alex couldn't help but grin. Yes, her hair was short now and messy, no doubt. But if the old woman thought she would have broken down, crying, she had gravely underestimated her. Her hair would grow back, but her actions of today would hopefully leave a more permanent mark. She wasn't just any Greenie. She was Alex, daughter of Vanya and King Thomas' ward.

Chin held high, she rolled Kalin into his final resting place. His body landed with a splash into the seawater. Almost poetic. 

When nobody said a word, she pushed the piles of sand onto him, then she wiped her hands clean to her trousers. Her arms crossed in front of her, she turned to Nela, next to the nearest Captain she could find. A woman with six belts caught her attention, the Captain of the Jade Daughters.

"I believe we need to cast some dice," she said full of confidence. 

Not that she had any clue what that meant. But she was about to find out.