The rusted ship of Baratok creaked slowly through the dark waters. In the distance, there was an island surrounded by large mountains.

  Once they approached, they sailed into a gaping dark cavern where no sunlight ever reached. The crew sat aboard—silent, bruised, and bearing the shame of retreat.

  Badrick lay sprawled against the mainmast, his massive chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His ribs were wrapped in soiled cloth. Sanka leaned nearby, propped against the railing.

  They passed through the gates leading out of the cavern, and before them unfolded the city of Baratok—not a city by civilized standards, but a fortress of chaos and wealth. Built in the center of a wall of mountains.

  As they docked at the pier, two towering guards approached. Clad in armor and draped in chains, they bore glaives. Their eyes glowed faintly from behind obsidian helmets, and neither cracked a smile.

  “Back already?” one growled. “Wha’ happen to di mission?”

  Sanka stepped off the ship first and shrugged, hands raised. “Things... get complicated, y’feel mi? Not quite di treasure run we planned.”

  The other guard stepped forward. “So yuh ain’t got di Hoshigan.”

  Silence.

  Badrick tried to stand, wincing with each breath. “We tried. Di island had more power than we thought. Dem youths—”

  “Queen Baratok nah care ‘bout no youths.” The first guard grunted. “Come. She waitin'.”

  The pirates on board exchanged glances. Some whispered prayers. Others just hung their heads.

  They were led through the guts of the city, where rusted pipes hissed steam and buildings were built with mismatched material. Street merchants called out, and gambling dens overflowed with smoke and screaming.

  The deeper they went, the quieter the city became. The air grew thicker, charged with the hum of a very strong Dragon Vein pressure. Even Sanka’s usual swagger dulled as they approached the Queen’s sanctum.

  The throne room opened—suffocating, serious, and dangerous. Gold, mountains of it, spilled from every corner. Piles of stolen relics, cracked statues, and small trinkets. Chains dripped from the ceiling like vines. In the center of the chamber sat Queen Baratok.

  She rose to nine feet tall, muscle-bound and motionless, her skin gleaming with oil. Her afro exploded outward. Her eyes were amber and ageless. Her gaze cut through the souls of her crew as they entered.

  Resting beside her throne of fused blades and melted crowns was her sword, which she named La’Shotta, a cleaver forged with a fang from a mystical beast. In the palm of her hand, she held a red gem the size of a heart. The Enka Hoshigan. Its red light pulsed like a living star.

  She didn’t speak at first.

  Her Dragon Vein pressure alone was enough to have the pirates kneeling, heads down.

  “Speak,” she said, voice low.

  Sanka was the first to break the tension. “Queenie… long time no see, yah? We didn’t get di Hoshigan, but I brought di best part of the mission: me.” He offered a little spin and a bow.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  She raised a finger. That was all.

  Sanka returned to his knees.

  Queen Baratok rose from her throne. “Yuh tink I sent yuh on a joyride? Yuh tink I give yuh di name of Nisim, di location of a di Shinsei Hoshigan, so yuh can come back empty-handed?”

  Badrick clutched his ribs. “I failed. Dem youths mash up di plan. One of dems not normal. Darkness moves in his Dragon Vein.”

  Queen Baratok glared, strong enough to split steel.

  “Darkness?!” she echoed as she stood up. “So what? Yuh afraid of shadows now, Badrick?”

  She turned, pacing slowly in front of them. The guards and the pirates stiffened as her Dragon Vein pressure began to rise, pressing down like storm clouds.

  “A Hoshigan, don’t wait for cowards,” she spat. “It chooses those who will match the stars themselves. I told yuh fools to bring me the Shinsei Hoshigan—Star Eye of the Soul. Do yuh even understand what yuh failed to fetch?”

  No one spoke.

  “Shinsei…” she muttered. “A gem dat speak to da soul directly. One dat lets yuh hear Seishinryus’ voices like it be whisperin’ in yuh ear. Yuh know what dat means? If I held both Soul and Flame, I could fuse spirit and destruction.”

  She turned sharply, pointing the Enka Hoshigan at them. “But instead—what do I get? Excuses.”

  Sanka, trying to ease the tension, chuckled nervously. “Queenie, yuh know how Nisim be… sacred land, full of dem and tricksy Dragon Vein fighters. No one knew they had people who could—”

  “Silence, jester,” her voice sliced through his words. “I’m tired of your yammerin'. All charm and no results.”

  Her Dragon Vein pressure spiked. Like the room was tilted towards a volcano. Some of the weaker pirates completely collapsed to their foreheads pressed upon the ground. Even Sanka, ever-smiling, gritted his teeth as the weight crushed his spine.

  Badrick’s breath was shallow. Blood leaked through his wrappings. “I take responsibility. I fight di one with di mysterious power… I tried to hold out.”

  Baratok's gaze landed on him for a second longer. Then she turned away, her pressure slowly letting up. “I’ll have yuh try again late’a with more numbers.”

  Then, one of the pirates at the back cleared his throat.

  A foolish thing.

  He had a younger face. Slim, frail. Maybe stupid enough to think speaking would save them from venturing back to Nisim.

  "Queen… if mi might speak freely," he said, rising to his feet. “Why we chase these Hoshigans at all, eh? People say they choose dey wielder… Maybe it not meant to be yours. Maybe we wastein’ time—”

  He stopped.

  Her pupils morphed, spiraling into red and white X’s. Tiny fragments of starlight danced within the iris. Her Shingan had awakened.

  Shingan, a high-level technique. This skill could only be learned by practitioners who have achieved perfect spiritual harmony with their Seishinryu. Shingan is an awakening that allows users to see the Dragon Veins through all life and matter. When awakened, a user’s eyes gain a unique pattern, and they develop abilities that mirror their Yogen but are born from pure perception.

  Sanka gasped. “Bloodclaat…”

  “Yuh want to know why we chase Hoshigans?” Queen Baratok said. “Because I see what yuh can’t.”

  She walked toward the pirate slowly, eyes fixed on him. As she strode forward, the pirates crawled out of her path. She stopped in front of the singular pirate, who quickly stepped down to a knee with his head down.

  “I see yuh spirit—shallow, greedy, afraid. Yuh tink yuh thoughts safe in yuh mind?”

  The pirate fell back, panicking. “I—I didn't mean nothin'—”

  “Mi Shingan sees deeper than words. It feel your doubt—your betrayal. It show me every time you think of sellin' us out to the Lancer Organization.”

  Baratok glared. “Yuh talk like dat and yuh don’t dare look at me. Look at me! LOOK AT ME NOW!”

  Once the pirate rose his head, the energy around him ruptured. He screamed, and he was engulfed in white hot flames. He continued to burn and thrash about until he was eviscerated.

  All that was left was a pile of ash.

  Queen Baratok turned away.

  “You ask why we hunt dem? Because only da Hoshigan can remake da world. Not with soldiers. Not with ships. But wit di power of those gems.”

  She marched back to her throne.

  “Now get out mi sight. All of yuh.”

  The pirates scrambled, some crawling to the exit.

  But, of course, Sanka—an expert at running—was the first out the door.

  Who can withstand his indignation? Who can endure his fierce anger? His wrath is poured out like fire; the rocks are shattered before him.

  — Nahum 1:6 (NIV)