The Lost Royal

Chapter 4.

The morning after their battle, the Tempest's Fortune sailed under a clear sky, the sun casting a warm glow over the deck as the crew settled into their usual rhythm. The spoils from the rival ship had been divided and stored, and there was an undeniable sense of victory in the air.

Amori, however, was restless. Her gaze drifted toward the small chest they had retrieved from the rival ship's hold, a curious find among the usual loot of weapons, rum, and gold. It was unassuming, bound in simple iron bands, yet something about it stirred a sense of foreboding within her. There was a peculiar emblem carved into the lid—a symbol she hadn't seen in years, but one that was deeply familiar.

As she lifted the lid, the crew gathered around, drawn by the hushed anticipation in the air. Inside, nestled in a bed of faded cloth, lay an object unlike anything they had ever seen—a medallion, larger and more elaborate than the one G carried, crafted from a dark, polished stone. Intricate markings spiraled across its surface, forming symbols that seemed to shift under the light, as if they were alive.

Amori drew in a sharp breath, her fingers tracing the edge of the medallion. The design was unmistakable, and memories flooded her mind—memories of a kingdom long gone, a life she had left behind to protect her family.

Spencer, who had been watching from the back of the crowd, felt a strange pull toward the relic, a faint tugging sensation that he couldn't explain. He stepped forward, his gaze locked on the medallion, his heartbeat quickening as he took it in.

"Do you recognize it, Amori?" G asked, his voice low, sensing the weight of the moment.

Amori nodded, her expression distant, haunted. "I do. This symbol... it belonged to my family's kingdom." She looked up, meeting Spencer's gaze. "Our family."

Spencer's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "But... I don't remember." His hand moved unconsciously to his chest, as though he were trying to grasp a memory just out of reach.

Amori held the medallion out to him, her voice gentle. "Try holding it, Spencer. Sometimes, the past finds its way back through touch, through memory." Her words were soft, encouraging, but there was an urgency behind them, a hope that this would spark something long buried.

Spencer hesitated, his gaze shifting to G, who gave him a reassuring nod. Tentatively, he reached out and took the medallion, feeling the cool, smooth surface against his palm. The moment it touched his skin, a wave of warmth washed over him, followed by a flicker of something—a sensation, a memory, fleeting and fragmented, but undeniably familiar.

He saw flashes of faces, voices calling his name, a throne room bathed in golden light. And then, a feeling of fear, of loss, as though everything he'd ever known had been taken from him in an instant. His breath caught, and he staggered, clutching the railing for support.

"Spencer?" Blu's voice was soft, worried, as she took a step closer. The usual coolness in her eyes was replaced by concern, her gaze fixed on him as though afraid he might slip away.

Spencer blinked, the images fading as quickly as they had come. "I... I don't know," he whispered, his voice trembling. "It was like a dream—a memory, maybe. But it's gone now."

Amori reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You were very young when we left," she said softly. "It's possible you've blocked some memories out. But they're still there, Spencer, somewhere within you."

Ice, who had been watching from a distance, cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "So, we've got a fancy rock that makes our commander swoon. What's it mean, exactly?"

Amori shot him a sharp look, but there was a hint of a smile in her gaze. "This 'fancy rock,' as you put it, was a symbol of our family's rule. It's more than just a relic—it's a piece of our history. And if it's here, then... perhaps there are others who remember our family's kingdom as well."

Rin crossed her arms, her gaze skeptical but intrigued. "Are you saying someone's keeping track of Spencer's bloodline?"

Amori nodded, her expression grave. "Yes. The fact that this medallion exists means there are still people who remember. People who may want him to reclaim his place." She paused, letting the words sink in. "And people who may want to keep him from it."

The crew exchanged glances, the weight of Amori's words settling over them like a shroud. They had fought countless battles, faced dangers and rivals alike, but this was different. This was a threat woven into the very fabric of Spencer's identity, a danger that could not be outrun or ignored.

Spencer looked down at the medallion in his hand, a feeling of responsibility settling over him. He had always felt a pull, a sense of something larger than himself guiding him. But now, with the medallion in his grasp, that feeling solidified into something real, something that could no longer be denied.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," he admitted, his voice quiet. "If there's a kingdom waiting for me... I'm not sure I can be the man they need."

G stepped forward, his gaze steady. "You're already that man, Spencer. Whether you take the throne or not, you're our commander. You've led us through storms, battles, and dangers none of us could face alone. If there's a kingdom that needs you, they couldn't ask for a better leader."

Ice grinned, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more sincere. "Besides, who says you have to do this alone? You've got a ship full of idiots who'll follow you anywhere, right?" He looked around at the crew, and a murmur of agreement rose from them.

Rin placed a hand on her hip, a faint smirk on her lips. "As long as you don't turn into some pompous king with a gold crown, I don't see why we can't keep following you."

Blu nodded, her expression serious but her eyes soft as she looked at Spencer. "You're our commander, Spencer. Whatever happens, we're with you."

Spencer took a deep breath, his gaze shifting from each of his friends to the medallion in his hand. Their loyalty, their belief in him, filled him with a strength he hadn't realized he possessed. Perhaps he wasn't ready to reclaim a throne, but he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—if not for himself, then for his crew.

He handed the medallion back to Amori, a sense of purpose settling within him. "We'll keep this safe," he said, his voice firmer now. "And if it leads us to answers... then we'll face them together."

Amori nodded, slipping the medallion into her bag with a sense of reverence. "There may be more relics like this out there," she said. "Each one could hold clues to our family's past—to your past, Spencer. We'll have to keep our eyes open."

Ice smirked, crossing his arms. "Looks like our little treasure hunt just got a lot more interesting. Who knew we had royalty in our midst?"

Spencer rolled his eyes, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Don't start bowing just yet, Ice."

Ice gave a mock bow, his grin widening. "Your wish is my command, Your Highness."

Rin laughed, the sound light and unguarded. "If you're royalty, Spencer, then we've got a whole kingdom of misfits."

Spencer chuckled, his spirits lifting as he looked at his crew. They were more than just friends—they were family, a bond that went beyond loyalty or duty. And whatever lay ahead, he knew they would face it together.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the Tempest's Fortune sailed on, its course set but its destination uncertain. The medallion lay safely in Amori's possession, a reminder of the kingdom they had left behind and the legacy that awaited them.

For now, the future was a mystery, but with his crew beside him, Spencer felt ready to face it. They were bound by fate, by blood, and by a destiny that none of them could escape.

And so, with the wind in their sails and the sea stretching out before them, they ventured onward—toward a future that held secrets, danger, and perhaps, a throne that awaited its lost heir.