Summer Storytimes

“Alright, alright, gather ‘round, youngins,” Strong-Heart Wyn says as it settles heavily on its ship’s stairs. The Snaling Howl, the name of its fine vessel, sits anchored at a port it often frequented. In front of Wyn, sits six children, all eager to hear the stories of its latest voyage. 

Only… it hadn’t been exciting, really. Or exciting at all, rather. While the pirate’s life is dangerous and harrowing and Wyn often got into far more trouble than it should, its latest voyage had been oddly tame. No ships to rob, no storms to weather through, not even the odd siren trying to lure its crew overboard. It was horrible, disgusting, really, how boring the sail had been. Still, going out and looking for trouble hadn’t been available, either. The Snaling Howl had a tight schedule and with the terrible winds they’d had the whole time, it was a wonder they made it back to port at all. 

The past few voyages hadn’t been anything to really write home about either. Still… they hadn’t landed on this port in a few months. Perhaps Wyn can just tell an older story, then. Surely these kids won’t remember. Surely. 

“Settle down, now,” Wyn says. 

The smallest of the children leans forward and asks in an oddly pronounced tone, “Are you telling us a new adventure?”

“Aye, wee lass. We ‘ad a storm but a fortnight ago; blew a ‘ole in our bilge, it did--that is, the lowest deck o’ this ‘ere ship. Scared ol’ Johnny o’er there; landlubber couldn’t decide w’er to start palin’ or get ‘elp an’ been stuck, water poolin’ at ‘is feet--” 

The children all scrunch their faces, even the youngest that had asked the first question, despite her deeply focused look the whole time. Wyn pauses its story as it notices, mouth almost audibly clicking shut as it stares, confused. Usually the kids were entrapped in its story, but they-- well, they almost look upset. 

The smallest child opens her mouth again, “You’ve already told us this story, missus.”

“I be not a Missus, wee lass, and--”

“Adora,” the child says the same way one might hold a fragile vase.

“Adora,” Wyn continues as if it hadn’t been interrupted, “An’ ye’ve ‘eard me story before?” Adora nods, and Wyn looks towards the rest of the children. “All o’ ye?” They all nod, too. It thinks for a moment, before settling on a different story. “Alright, new adventure, then. Just a few moons ago did ol’ Lizzy o’er there nearly lose an eye an’ ‘er good leg, fightin’ with a ‘uge kraken, the size o’ a buildin’ that creature was, but ol’ Lizzy--”

The children all frown, and Adora says, “You’ve told us that one, too.”

Wyn frowns right back. “Did… I tell ye scamps about when ol’ Sammy stole from that fleet un’er--” 

“Yes-”

“Or when Feiyu ‘ad the wrong meanin’ o’ booty--”

“Yes-”

“Or even when Slick ‘ad been told to batten down the ‘atches and tied poor ol’ Bokushi to the mast?!”

The kids stare at in mute horror, tears gathering in all of their eyes. Adora asks in a loud but solemn voice, “Do you really not have any new stories?”

Well, tie it to the mast and call it a dirty landlubber. It can’t let these kids’ dreams of pillaging the seven seas be ruined because it doesn’t have any new stories. It also isn’t too good at fibbing on the fly, so it has to tell something new.

Or, it thinks to itself, looking at the summer horizon, somethin’ old. 

“No need fer yer tears, scamps. I was just testin’ yer memories. I got somethin’ new fer ye, somethin’ you ain’t ne’er heard before, ye ‘ear me?” 

At last, it has their undivided attention. The kids all look at with adoration in their eyes, and honestly… this might be the best part of pirating. Robbing the seven seas, digging up treasure maps and dodging treasure traps-- those are all fun and good on their own, but nothing quite beats coming to port to a few bright-eyed kids wondering what the rest of the world is like. There’s just nothing like it. 

“This ‘ere story be about me granny, ye ‘ere? I ain’t ne’er told anyone about it, so ye scallywags better keep yer mouths shut, savvy?” It gives its best glare, wiggling its eyebrows until even the most stone-faced kid is giggling. “Me granny was Captain Moonie Two-Toe, on the account that she only ‘ad two toes, though no one knew which ones, not even ‘er own daughter-- me mum!

“She sailed the seven seas, lookin’ fer the legendary black spot. Not the curse, mind ye. Nay, the black spot were a spot in the ocean, blacker than the night an’ no ship ‘ad e’er managed to sail out o’. That be ‘cause o’ the foul beast that lives down there--” 

“The kraken?!” One of the kids gasps, and Wyn shakes its head, solemnly. 

“Nay, far worse. The Leviathan. That creature was longer than the ‘orizon an’ big enough to swallow the ship whole.” It moves its hands to emphasize, and the kids watch in wonder. "It’d be a fool’s errand to try an’ kill it. But granny Two-Toe had been no fool; nay, she was smart, smarter than anyone. She commandeered one of them ships from un’er the Red Ensign, an’ ‘ad those poor fools sail right into the spot-- an’ that’d been after years o’ searchin’ fer it in the first place. The beast immediately burst through the water, eatin’ that first ship in a flash, faster than lightnin’. It’d been a wonder that ‘er own did nay flip in the first place.

“But as the creature ate, did ol’ granny give the order to shoot the ‘arpoons, right through two o’ the beast’s six eyes. It thrashed an’ nearly dragged ‘er ship into the ocean when it dived back into the waters, but granny cut the ropes, an’ the beast got away.” 

“Did Captain Two-Toes ever find the leviathan again?”

Wyn shakes its head. “Nay. Granny ne’er spied that foul beast again. She spent the rest o’ ‘er life lookin’, an’ even when ‘er crew grew too old to go with ‘er, she went on one last voyage. We ne’er ‘eard from ‘er again.”

“Wow…” the kids express in varying ranges of awe. 

Wyn grins, and then stands, placing its hands on its hips. “Now, ye scallywags better get back to yer parents, ‘fore I turn ye all into shark bait.” When the kids start to haw and hem, it jumps at them, making grabbing hands. “Get, get! I’ll have ye all walk the plank, ye ‘ear?!” 

The children scatter, running off the boat, and giggling. Adora stops on the dock, turning back and waving, and Wyn shakes its head as it waves back, shooing her away with its hands. 

Feiyu steps up next to it. “That story,” she starts, “was it real?”

It shakes its head. “Part o' it; granny ne’er found that black spot. Though, we did nay ‘ear from ‘er again after the last time she went out lookin’ for it.” It looks towards the horizon again, and almost shrugs. “I suppose she could still be out there, searchin’.”

She laughs, slapping it on the back. “After all this time? I can’t imagine she’d still be alive.” 

“Aye,” Wyn says, contemplatively, “Ye may be right.”