Sea Reaper: The Legend of the Black-Eyed “Boy”

Captain Nick was back on her feet—fierce and fearless as ever.

Rumors about her special relationship with the captain were spreading like wildfire among the crew. Most thought the captain would be even more indulgent now. But surprisingly, Hayreddin was colder than before. He no longer smiled or pushed his main course and fine wine toward Nick, and his warmth had vanished entirely.

So the whispers evolved—from "They've slept together" to "The captain tried to, but Captain Nick fought him off and got injured. That's why she's out of favor."

According to the tale, frail yet spirited Nick had resisted with such tenacity that Hayreddin lost his temper, twisted her arm behind her back, ripped her shirt open, and slammed her onto the captain's table. Her pale back shivered under the thunderstorm, and blood ran down her thigh to her ankle...

Every detail was vivid, told with such conviction it could've passed for an eyewitness account. In truth, Nick never even stripped to the waist. No one had ever seen her back. But life at sea was dull, and with no women aboard, even the wildest stories became more intoxicating than rum.

And so, while Hayreddin failed to extort a scheming merchant, he found himself absurdly framed as a would-be predator.

In reality, Hayreddin wasn't even mad anymore. A seasoned rogue like him wouldn't waste time on a snot-nosed kid. But he had realized something important: raising a child is like keeping a wild animal—you pamper them too much, and they'll bite you.

At first, Hayreddin thought Nick was a docile subordinate. She was quiet, kept her head down, and blended in among his rowdy crew. Obedient and capable—every leader's dream. So naturally, Hayreddin favored her.

But problems started to show. Nick wasn't fully grown—still carried a child's defiant streak. Be kind to her, and she'd start climbing up the ladder. Spoil her, and she'd think she owned the place. Especially her attitude toward money—it was enough to make a man spit blood.

Hayreddin had figured it out: carrot and stick. Discipline and reward—only then could she be tamed.

But there was another pressing issue...

Nick sat barefoot atop the mainmast, legs dangling, deep in thought—or more accurately, dazing off. Karl stood below, blushing at the sight of her delicate feet swinging back and forth. He wanted to scold her into putting her shoes on but was too afraid of being annoying.

Hayreddin walked over and shouted up, "Come down!"

Nick jumped down effortlessly and saluted with her fingers to her brow. "Captain."

"Sickle."

She obediently handed it over from behind her back.

"Daggers." One. Two.

Nick was surprisingly compliant these days, sensing that her boss was no longer fond of her and that a single misstep could cost her this well-paying job.

Hayreddin set the weapons on a nearby barrel, grabbed her arm, and marched her toward the railing. Without warning, he hurled her into the sea.

Karl gasped and ran to jump after her.

"Stay put," Hayreddin said calmly. "You might save her today, but will you keep an eye on her forever? A pirate who can't swim is a bloody embarrassment." He began stripping off his shirt and boots with casual indifference.

Nick had no weights on her, but still flailed helplessly. She surfaced for a breath and went under again. Hayreddin dove in and swam behind her, lifting her for air. The moment she gasped, he let go again.

After several cycles of this aquatic torture, Nick coughed, sputtered, and begged:

"Captain! cough cough I was wrong... cough"

"Good girl. Admitting mistakes is the first step." Hayreddin grinned and held her by the collar. "Learn to swim, and I'll return your golden armor." He let go again.

No instructions, no guidance—just pure survival instinct. That's how children born by the sea learned best. At moments of life or death, the human body reveals its true potential.

While Hayreddin floated with ease, Nick flailed as if she were drowning in a storm. Her nose and eyes stung, every limb burned. Karl watched from the rail, anxious and helpless, torn between duty and fear. He knew swimming could save her life, but hated every second of her suffering.

Eventually, Nick's legs cramped. Her limbs moved sluggishly. Hayreddin swam over and pulled her close, massaging the knots out. She clung to him like a drowning kitten, sobbing against his neck.

"I can't do this... I really can't... Captain... please..."

Dignity be damned—when death knocks, pride vanishes. Nick didn't fear dying, but this kind of slow, cold drowning was another matter. Her voice cracked, her eyes turned red. Hayreddin, trying not to smirk, thought she was too skinny—her shoulder blades felt like daggers.

"Had enough? Want to come aboard?"

She looked up at him with those wide, pleading eyes. He studied her for a moment, then chuckled. "Still faking? Didn't I ignore you once and you got hooked on pretending?"

Then he yanked her back under.

Nick panicked and latched onto him like an octopus. Their bodies tangled, clothes soaked through. His bare chest pressed against her wet shirt. Heat bled through into her frozen limbs. An odd tension stirred in the water.

But innocent Nick noticed none of this. The sea was cold. The captain's warmth meant safety.

He finally shoved her away.

"Karl! Karl!" she cried toward the ship.

The golden retriever—loyal and frantic—tore off his boots and prepared to dive.

"Touch that water and you're fired," Hayreddin growled.

Everyone knew Hayreddin didn't bluff. Karl froze, fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. If he lost this job, Nick would never leave with him.

Nick kept flailing. Hayreddin was patient—he lifted her, let her rest, then threw her back in. After two hours, Nick could barely stay afloat for a minute.

From underwater, the sky looked impossibly blue. Fish passed like birds. The world slowed. Nick's limbs turned numb. She stopped struggling and let the sea take her.

Hayreddin dove back in the moment she failed to resurface.

She was sinking, limp and expressionless, black eyes staring at the sky. He lunged forward and grabbed her. But she didn't cling to him—her body floated soft and weightless, like a corpse.

Worried, he surfaced and held her to his chest, checking her pulse. Normal.

Then—pain. She bit down, hard, on his shoulder.

"You little devil!" he cursed, prying her jaw open. Blood streamed down from the perfect ring of teeth she'd left. Nick licked her lips, smug.

Bleeding in open water was foolish. Even a drop could summon sharks. Furious, Hayreddin hoisted her back aboard.

Karl rushed forward with a blanket and held Nick close, like he'd die before letting her go again. Hayreddin, too annoyed to bother, muttered to the cook, "Trios, hot soup. Extra pepper." Then stalked off to treat his wound.