Lee had left his javelin on the rowboat. He swore, realizing that the only way to retrieve it would be to climb the ropes back down to where he had left the little boat alongside the now burning ship. Ducking as the rafters of the little cabin collapsed in flames, Lee made it to the rails and swung himself overboard, landing in the rocking boat with his back turned to a lone figure swimming at a frenetic pace towards him…

He had barely gotten a good hold on his weapon when the world suddenly turned upside down, and he found himself submerged in the cold gray water. Kicking to the surface, Lee looked all around, but saw nothing but a fiery reflection of Medrana, her masts now fallen, her sails long since dissolved into ash. Some of it floated down now, the flakes falling like a bitter snow.

Catching sight of the rope still hanging over the side, Lee swam for it. He was in no mood to fight in the choppy water. He needed his energy, and couldn’t waste it treading water. Jamming the javelin into his belt, he began to pull himself hand over hand up the sodden rope, but was stopped when a dagger nearly pinned his thumb to the ship’s heaving side. Snarling, Lee turned to face his attacker, throwing the dagger back with equal accuracy.

Luke, balancing on the overturned rowboat, was ready. Deflecting the blade with the flat of his cutlass, he jumped and took hold of the rope too. Following Lee, who had pulled himself over the rails and now stood on the splintering deck, Luke held the cutlass in his teeth as he climbed and then swung himself over as well.

“What now, pirate scum?”

“Welcome death, General.”

Lee laughed harshly, memories flooding his mind with images that only drove him further over the edge of his hatred. “Oh no,” he replied, as he and his opponent began to circle one another slowly. “Today I rid the seas of all pirates. I would hate to rob you of the glory of burning along with them.” Lee had yet to see his enemy’s face, as shadows obscured his vision along with the smoke. But he was sure of who it had to be. Who else but the Pirate King? He had fallen for the lure. At last, he thought. I will end this.

It was Luke’s blade that sang first. All around them, Medrana was falling apart; the smooth planks had been reduced to embers, and the very wood beneath them was creaking dangerously under their weight. Lee parried the blow and allowed himself to be driven back to the starboard side before switching to the offensive, catching Luke off-guard in the split second that the deck finally caved in.

Pinning Luke painfully with the blade of his javelin, Lee smirked mockingly. “I thought you would be more of a challenge, Your Majesty.”

Luke, one hand pressed into what had to be a hundred splinters, was still hanging on to his cutlass with the other, even as half of his body dangled helplessly in the hole made by the collapse of the deck. Your Majesty…? Why would he call me that…? And then it dawned on him. He must think he’s fighting the Pirate King…! Despite his grim situation, Luke smirked too. Well. Let’s give him a nasty surprise, then. From where he was, Luke could see clearly that one of the masts was about to fall further, very close to where they were. With any luck, it would hit his enemy…

He had to stall for time. “What’s wrong, boy? Did we strangle your mother? String your father up on a noose? Did we drown your sister, steal your brother? Are you another vengeful hero?” Luke spat bitterly on Lee’s boots. Lee kicked him hard, and Luke could feel the thud reverberating in his skull. Nevertheless, he continued, laughing as though he had felt nothing. He could feel his old cruelty rising up again. “You’ll never win. A hero? I’ve never seen one. Some hero you are, striking like a coward, sailing in with the entire Navy behind you. Cause you need it! You couldn’t beat us without a hundred guns and a thousand men! You’re nothing but a— ”

Lee clenched his fingers into the collar of Luke’s grimy, ash-streaked shirt and pulled him up onto the deck. His reply stayed on his tongue, however, for luck came through for Luke. The mast toppled sideways, grazing Lee’s shoulder, causing him to jump back in alarm and Luke to go flying backwards. Lee could feel his shoulder burning, the fire searing his skin. But his reflexes remained intact. As the mast hit the crumbling deck with a crash, Lee swung hard with his aching arm. Luke cried out as the javelin thudded into his ribs, just below his heart.

Lee had no time to savor his victory, for as he made his way to where Luke had fallen, he heard his men calling from the shore. “The Pirate King! The Pirate King!”

“What??! How?!” Lee took the mast at a running leap, clearing it. He moved to the body lying in a heap on the other side, the shadows illuminated by the flickering of fire. Luke was laughing weakly, one fist curled around the shaft of the weapon embedded in his side. One look and Lee’s heart fell like a stone. Luke continued laughing, although his breath came out with a rattle, each one rasping like the serrated edge of a saw.

“Only his son,” Luke said, his voice the barest of whispers. “Only his son. I told you. You can’t win.” Lee roared with rage, pulling the javelin out mercilessly. He ran to the rail and jumped over the side, landing in the water with a splash.

It wasn’t over yet.