In hindsight, it was probably lucky to be unconscious through the storm, Soren thought when he eventually woke up and understood what had happened.

"The worst storm we've ever been through," Ivern said, as he helped Soren walk out of the small cabin that made up the ship's captain's quarters. Walking hurt. The wound was serious but, as long as it stayed clean, not life threatening. Even better, it was the worst injury anyone in the crew had received. Everyone else made it through the skirmish with cuts and bruises.

Soren struggled to hide his wincing as he let Ivern help him climb up the stairs towards the helm. The Alvarian ship didn't have the same kind of large quarterdeck he was used to, and so it was only a few steps. Although they felt like a much bigger obstacle.

Ivern was still talking. "The wind... I've never seen anything like it. We were almost slammed against the rocks more than once, but this pirate is quite the sturdy thing."

"Aye, makes some sense, too." Roan was standing at the helm, holding it with his left hand. A new sling bound his right arm against his chest. "These Alvarian lasses've got t' withstand a tropical storm, aye?"

"Aye," Soren agreed. He hissed an exhale as he momentarily lost his balance, shuffling his feet in a way that tugged at the wound. "It's fine... No, just..." Waving away their concerns, he tried to focus. "You got a handle on the sails, then?"

Roan shrugged his good shoulder. "Eventually." He gave the helm a hearty pat. "She cuts through the waves and wind nicely."

Soren grabbed the bulwark for support and looked over the ship. She wasn't as long or wide as the Wanderlust. Her two masts held their unique triangular sails, which billowed in the wind. Their crew was doing a good job. Even Ara was helping, Soren caught sight of him near the bow, working with Kurias.

Soren pressed his left hand against his side, even though it did nothing to dull the aching pain. "I'm sorry I wasn't awake to help."

"Don't be," Ivern said. "Taking that hit probably saved my life."

"N' Ivern handled first mate duties just fine," Roan added. "Now, you gonna address the crew, Cap'n?"

Soren, already holding himself fairly still, froze. His right hand squeezed the bulwark so hard it hurt. "Roan."

"Only 'till we've got him back, mate."

Ivern added, more gently, "We need a Captain."

Soren exhaled slowly. They were right, of course, but that didn't make hearing the title any less strange. It didn't help that he almost considered it Tanden's name. As if he was the only one. As if there could be no other Captains in the world.

He nodded abruptly. "Gather the men. I'm not jumping up on the bulwark to talk to them."

Ivern gave Soren a very gentle clap on the shoulder as he walked past. He climbed down the stairs and started calling to the men. Soren watched, eyed the short staircase, and decided it wasn't something he wanted to tackle again so soon. Struggling to hide another wince, he turned to face the ship. He removed his hand from his side and grabbed the bulwark. He didn't want to look hurt, even if all the men knew he was.

The men gathered on the deck in front of him. Eleven men. Twelve, if he included himself. It wasn't a large crew, but it would have to do. Soren spared a moment to cast a quick glance over each of them, taking in their wounds and bruises.

He was used to shouting orders to these men. But he wasn't used to making speeches or being inspirational. Tanden's absence felt huge and obvious.

Soren started to take a deep breath to prepare, but cut it off as soon as he felt the spike of pain in his side. He squeezed the bulwark with both hands to stop himself from clutching at himself.

After a second, more careful deep breath, he began. And it felt like addressing the obvious was an easy, if not the best, way to start.

"I'm not Captain Tanden," he said plainly. "I can't hop onto the bulwark and grin and make everything seem perfect. But maybe that isn't what we need right now. You know me to be a steady and trustworthy First Mate, which is what I'll bring to being your Captain."

The few hearty affirmations from the crew bolstered him, especially as he noticed that none of his close friends had been the ones to start it.

Soren nodded and continued. "We've lost our home, but we have not lost our family. Freeing you all, and taking this ship, was only the first step in reclaiming what those pirates took from us. Our brothers sail ahead of us. Our sister sails ahead of us. Our Captain sails ahead of us. We will find them. It will be hard work, with so few of us. But we will find them. These pirates will come to know that they made a mistake by attacking us."

That earned him a few cheers and claps. Soren scanned the men once more, but instead of seeing their cuts and scrapes he saw determination and pride.

He held up his right hand to silence them. It was the sort of dramatic flourish Tanden would approve of.

"Even without her, we are men of the Wanderlust," Soren said. "And they will regret what they did to her. This ship—" he lowered his hand to grab the bulwark again. "—She's only the beginning."

It was Ara who started the chant, pumping his fist in the air. "Wanderlust! Wanderlust!" The rest of his small crew was quick to follow, yelling their ship's name like a battle cry.

Soren met Ivern's gaze quickly, then glanced at Roan. He too was chanting, although his only good hand was still holding the helm. Soren turned back to the crew and allowed the chant to continue for what felt like an appropriate length of time. Then he held up his hand again, and they instantly fell silent.

"Let's get to work," he said, and then almost began shouting orders—his usual role as First Mate. But Ivern beat him to it.

"Back to your stations, men!" Ivern shouted. "Let's take advantage of this good weather while we have it!"

***

After the speech, Ivern took over at the helm and Roan gave Soren a quick tour of the ship.

"She's a good lass, really," Roan said, planting his good fist on his hip. "The ropes don't all lead t' where you'd think they do, but we figured all that out. And Ara— Come'ere, lad!"

Ara joined them. He was trying very hard to act like a sailor, but Soren had no problem reading the concern on his face. For a moment, Soren felt like it was just the two of them again, rushing along in the Waterborne.

"It isn't so bad," he said. "It just hurts when I move."

"So... always?" Ara asked.

Soren smiled ruefully. "Aye, more or less. But I'll be fine." He reached to take Ara's hand. "Are you... We didn't really get to talk about what you had to do."

Ara looked at their hands, then back up to meet Soren's gaze. "I'm fine. I'm learning to help. You only have eleven men, so I have to help." He gently pulled his hand from Soren's, and Soren just resisted the urge to catch him again. "Why did you call me, Roan?"

"'Cause after me'n Ara brought the Waterborne 'round, the lad checked the cargo hold. What'd we have, mate?"

"Some food, mostly dried meat and grains, some dried fruit. A couple days' worth of water, I think. And some goods, but nothing orderly. It's messy, but we might be able to sell some of it."

Soren considered this new information and tried not to think about empty his hand felt. "Aye, that makes some sense. It would be nice to sell things. I know we stole the ship, but we're not resorting to piracy."

"Reckoned you'd say that," Roan said, nodding. "'N Ivern'n I agree. We've lost a lot. Our morals don't have t' go, too."

Above them, the sail cracked loudly as it caught an errant gust of wind. Soren glanced up at it. "Do you think we can catch up?"

"Shocked you caught up with us, bein' completely honest, but..." Roan's shrug was lopsided. "Aye, reckon so. They were only a few days ahead, aye, 'n we gained some in the storm, I'd wager. Nobody who wasn't desperate would've been movin' in that, Cap'n."

How long would it take to get used to the casual way Roan used the title? Soren wasn't sure it would ever sound right. Somehow, that felt like a good sign. Of course the title wouldn't sound right when it belonged to someone else. But for the time being, he would have to accept it.

"All right," Soren said. "This is good. As long as the weather holds, let's keep her moving. We'll take shifts at night. We'll reassess tomorrow, see how the men are holding up. We have to be ready for a fight at the end of this, so we can't burn them out."

"Aye, Cap'n," Roan said. "Reckon pure determination will keep us goin' for a few days, at least." He paused, turning to survey the ship and the nine other men on board. Once he had gone full circle and was facing Soren again, he spoke once more, his voice gentle with affection. "You too, mate. You can't burn out."

Without thinking, Soren's hand drifted to cup his wound. "I know."

"Good. Now Ara, lad, take 'im down t' see the cargo."

"Oh!" Ara's response was startled and sharp. "Oh, right, of course. Follow me."

Soren gave Roan a suspicious look, but followed after Ara anyway.

***

By the following afternoon, Soren knew that Ivern and Roan had tasked Ara with making him slow down, and the irony of that made him feel more amused than annoyed. Unfortunately, Ara wasn't nearly as good at minding him as he was at minding Tanden. Soren still took a night shift, still had a turn at the helm, still helped hoist ropes. He worked with the men because they only had so many hands. Because he was used to working with them as First Mate. Because Tanden always did, even though he was the Captain.

And because he wasn't going to let his injury slow them down in any way, even if that meant not allowing it to properly heal.

Every time he brushed off Ara's attempts to distract him, he knew exactly how like Tanden he was acting, and how unlike himself. But nothing about their situation was normal, and the sooner they caught up, the sooner he could get Tanden back. Then Tanden could be in charge once again, like he was supposed to be, and he could decide what to do about the pirates.

The weather held for two more days. On the third, another tropical storm blew through. They put distance between themselves and the shore, and let the pirate ship ride it out. She was built for it, after all. Soren hated the delay but knew that it was likely anyone ahead of them would have been delayed, too.

It was a busy stretch of coast. They passed by at least one smaller village a day, and always scanned the docked ships for any sign of the other pirates, to no avail. Other ships and smaller sailboats crossed paths with them multiple times a day. Luckily, the pirate ship's flag seemed to imply danger, and they weren't approached. Every town and passing ship was carefully inspected through the spyglass, but they came across neither of the other pirate ships.

Steadily, they kept moving West.