Melissa hugged herself as the storm raged around them, cat ears twitching while adjusting to all the chaos around her; she didn’t know what to do, but for the first time in what seemed an eternity, something good had happened to her.

Her deep-lit, ruby irises shifted to Selvaria as she stumbled to the side, something rocking the ship to the left, but Melissa’s adhesive skin kept her perfectly stable on the deck.

“Frikin’ jellyfish,” the Leviathan growled, showing her sharp teeth. “Oh, Mara!”

Melissa backed away a little when a mossy-haired woman jumped out of the raging sea to land on the deck; she didn’t know who to trust.

“Selvaria, there’s too many—oh, you did help her change into something cute.”

The Leviathan directed her to a small, duplicate sea monster that floated out of the air. “Okay, I’ll handle it. Uh, Melissa, this is Galatea—Mara and she’ll make sure no one messes with you.”

“I can behave miself,” Cahira huffed, shooting Melissa a cheery grin before moving away to continue directing her cannons at the swarming black eagles. “Don’t mind the noise, love!”

Looking after the redhead as Selvaria dove back into the ocean to handle the monsters, she looked toward the woman the Leviathan had left her with. “What are we doing?”

Mara slid her fingers through her wet hair while Galatea fired pressurized water jets at nearby birds, but Cahira and the rampaging lion seemed to be handling things above just fine. “Huh. Well, I don’t think we need to be out in this weather; Nemesis and Selvaria should be fine.”

Relief flooded Melissa’s breast as Mara motioned for her to follow her inside. “We can talk inside while you get cleaned up.”

“Thank you… heh, it seems all I’m able to say recently,” she mumbled, pulling around her tentacles to stare at the uncomfortably long appendages, but she had legs and arms again, and that was enough for now.

“Uh-huh. Just through here… Gah, I hate weather like this,” the green-haired woman sighed, full lips smiling back at her. “So, why don’t we tell each other stories to pass the time?”

Stomach swirling as she heard men grumbling further down the hall, she was glad Mara took her down an opposite corridor. “What do you want to know?”

The brown-eyed woman took her into a female-designated showering area and motioned her to go ahead, halting Galatea, who seemed to understand with her nods, posting up outside the door.

“I’m pretty sure we can both hear each other while giving you privacy, and I’ve already heard most of what you said to Selvaria.” She pointed to her ears at Melissa’s questioning gaze. “I may not have cat ears, but, heh, my hearing may be better than yours, dear!”

“Wow, umm, so… who are you guys?”

Melissa started to feel more comfortable as she carefully undressed, examining herself in one of the mirrors while talking to Mara; the Myth of Iara told her a story she apparently hadn’t shared with anyone besides Nemesis—the lion that had scared her, who was currently ripping apart the large birds outside.

She’d been a part of a troubled family in Cuba, which ended in her accidentally killing her brother in a conflict where he had tried to murder her; it split the family, and she was forced to leave, even if she was cleared of charges.

Melissa couldn’t keep her eyes away from the mirror as they continued, studying every inch of her new body.

Testing her new and expanded powers in the safety of the bathing room, she summoned one of the wolves and was shocked when the tattoo flashed, breaking away from her smooth skin to become a nearly 2-meter-tall canine; he felt as much a part of her body as her toes or fingers.

She summoned the other five shortly after, smiling up at the tall, protective hounds while petting their necks; it brought a sense of peace to her to have them guard the door, which allowed her to shift her attention to the wriggling four tentacle tattoos.

They curled and coiled over her back, breasts, stomach, and thighs; at any point, she could peel them away to take on a terrifying visage for any onlooker, including herself.

The more she heard about what happened to Mara’s homeland, the less horrific her own tragic story seemed; they’d literally experienced Heck on Earth.

As the tale came to a close, she wanted more information about herself now that her nightmare was coming to an end, hopefully, to fill in the brief explanation Selvaria gave.

“Mara…”

“Mhm?”

“Why did Selvaria have me make these tattoos instead of getting rid of them? I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong, but… I’d rather all of this be gone. You have a tail that you can hide, right?”

Her ears twitched as the moss-haired Mythickin leaned her back against the wall to slide to her butt outside of the room; the turbulent vessel had evened out a lot over their conversation.

“Hmm… You remember me telling you about Rachel?”

“The leader of that Mythic group?”

“The same one.”

“Yeah. She’s the one that killed Relica?” Heat rose in her chest at recalling the woman’s face. “I’m glad she’s dead… just scared of what’s happened to my little sister.”

“I bet. Do you… know where she is?”

She was silent for a moment, staring into her own void-like eyes. “No. Unlike me, she was far less… conscious of what she’d become. Glaucus told me if I fought off the monsters attacking our ship, he’d make sure to find the cure on the island we were sailing toward to get it… I hope he did find it.”

A haughty snort came from the hallway, making Melissa’s tail and tentacles pause in their motion. “You don’t think he will?”

“Do you love Glaucus?”

Melissa scowled at her reflection. “What—no?! I said whatever I had to to find a cure for my sister and me; I didn’t have a choice but to accept his help… no one else was going to help us.”

Mara didn’t respond right away, giving Melissa time to turn her attention to the draconic heads she could summon away from her chest to branch into massive jaws that snapped their teeth at being confined; now that she was paying attention to it, the experience was pretty uncomfortable, and it was like they had a sort of mind of their own.

“Hmm… I can relate to that. I’ve got nothing back home; my family is all dead, not that they’d be happy to see me, and most of the friends I had died… one way or another.”

Drawing the heads and tentacles back into her body, Melissa cleared her throat as she sat on the bench, staring at the large hole in the back of the trench coat. “You have Nemesis. Don’t you?”

“Hah! Well… yeah, I don’t know what Nemesis and I are. A couple of troubled misfits that happened to find each other… I sometimes wonder if I’m more of the lioness on a rock in his territory, just trying to not get jumped by other lions. I mean, I’m protective of him, too… Gah, emotions are confusing.”

“Haha. Tell me about it! You’re living your life in the EU one day, and the next, you’re some pretty Nymph… Only to discover your Myth is that of a monster, and sure enough, Relica came knocking to make sure that prophecy came true.”

Mara giggled and released a melancholy puff of air. “Still want to know why Selvaria told you to make them tattoos?”

“If that’s okay… Umm, with whatever else I can do to get rid of the others.”

“No problem. I’ll be out here the whole time—hehe, and you have your wolves—so you don’t need to feel scared about taking a shower… Oof… I’m sorry; I didn’t think how you might feel…”

“It’s fine! No, really… I, uh…” She tucked her lip under while looking at the shower head of one of the stalls across from her. “I just… need a bit more time. The last time I took a bath…”

“Yeah. Totally understandable! Eh… I can go first if you want… or we could shower together—not that I’m trying to be creepy like Cahira—it’s just an option.”

Melissa’s chest shook at the comment. “Hehe. What is up with your group and talking about perverts?”

“Hehe. I suppose that suggestion would be in poor taste.”

“No! No. Not you… I feel like you really do want to help me, which… is so nice I want to cry—geh-heh… maybe I already am… but it’s just funny—for some reason.”

“Well, yeah, I think Cahira does it mainly to throw people off and break the ice; I don’t think she actually plans on anyone taking her up on the offer—despite what she says—and mainly just wants to lighten the mood. From what I’ve seen, she does care for people, such as what she did with the Legend of Sadie.”

“One of those kinds of women, huh?”

“Maybe. I couldn’t say. Hmm, but who knows, maybe she is lonely and just looking for the first person that offers to share her bed; it’s hard to get a read on that woman. She is a Pirate Queen, I suppose, and guile is her forte.”

Melissa couldn’t recall the last time she laughed like this with someone. Still, the jovial Pirate Queen’s slight advances had put her on edge—she’d always been more demisexual—yet that didn’t stop her from experiencing embarrassment at being seen naked or lusted after. Unfortunately, that was likely one contributing factor, according to Mara, that caused her to become a Nymph.

Thoroughly examining her eight tentacles and canines as their journey went on, Melissa listened to Mara explain what Rachel called ‘The System;’ the Lunar Hare had apparently discovered many secrets regarding its use over the many weeks since The Oscillation.

Adding restrictions or undesirable aspects to one’s desires helped to mitigate some of the cost of developing the Seed without them, and apparently, since she was a Mythickin, she had a Greater Seed, which granted her more power than the lesser version.

Because she’d spent so much time fighting the monsters in this sea, she’d gained a ton of Skill Points and leveled up many of her abilities to their maximum; after reaching the peak of what she needed to continue her fight, her points just continued to pile up until Selvaria told her how to use them.

Melissa took Mara’s advice on flipping off the automatic switch that came on by default since she wanted to save whatever more she gained on further adjusting her appearance, and she hoped by the end of this journey that she’d be 100% outward tentacle free.

Unlike the quest she was on before to recover some mythical flower of renewal, they were on a Legend’s Quest to sail to a place called Isla de Marda—the Island of the Dead—and it was for the Legend of Jack Ward.

She didn’t care about the goals of the mission, but if it could help her at least somewhat fix her monstrous appearance, she was all for it, and if they proved they weren’t just trying to use her, then maybe, just maybe, she would have found the people that could help her little sister.

Eventually, Melissa worked up the courage, stood up, and marched to the shower, yet her hand hesitated on the knob. Do it! Just do it! What… is Cahira tricking me, and she really wants me to destroy her ship? No! This is just an ordinary shower… normal water… please, be normal water…

She tensed as she turned it—seconds passed, her eyes squeezed shut—and nothing happened. Frowning, her brow furrowed as she peeked at the spout, yet no liquid exited.

“Hehehe.” Mara’s chuckles echo through the room from her sitting position outside. “It’s the pull kind.”

Melissa blushed as she followed the instruction, and the tips of her tentacles to her toes tensed when water fell over her head, slicking her dry skin, and she waited. Several seconds, a minute—five—and after a time, the squirming of her stomach and tentacles eased.

“It’s not a trap…”

She heard laughter down the hall as Cahira stopped in front of Mara. “Ya havin’ the longest shower in history, Lass? How are ya—aye! No need ta be sprayin’ water all over me, Galatea—I’m not here ta cause trouble—blah, fish breath!”

Mara chuckled. “How’s it looking?”

“Ugh… uh, we’re pullin’ away from the storm; Selv is clearing out much of the beasties below and bringing back some items. I bet the girl found somethin’ in the horde for ya to wear, love!” she called to her.

“Sounds like something Selvaria would do,” Mara mused. “She probably found some cosplay piece for herself while she’s at it.”

Shutting off the water, Melissa carefully brushed her ears with her fingers, uncertain how to treat them. “Umm… that would be great. So… we’re going to see this Isla de Marda place soon?”

“Yup! Jackie’s steering us there. How ya feelin’?”

Melissa smiled, examining her perfect white teeth in the mirror with the water dripping down her slick black hair to puddle across the tile. “Mmh… I’m feeling a lot better… Wait, how can you hear me?”

The Pirate Queen giggled and slapped the metal wall. “I can hear everything on mi boys! A perk of gainin’ an unreasonable amount of Skill Points off the back o’ Mythic. Hehe. I get ta go after all sorts of fun skills! I bet you’ll fit in great with the crew.”

“Thanks! I’m actually feeling a lot better…” she trailed off as a thump reverberated through the hull, followed by more pounding—Selvaria’s return—and the girl burst into the hallway. Galatea made chirping noises as she weaved away to retrieve her master.

Cahira soon followed. “I gotta go tell the glum, unluckiest pirates on the seven seas that we’ll be arrivin’ soon… Heh, bet they’ll be askin’ for a boat at the end of this voyage! Hmm, what’d I say, Selv’s got some prizes for ya.”

Melissa could hardly believe her words. No one could be nice to a monster like her—even another monster. Tears welled up in her eyes; not even she thought she deserved love—she was utterly unlovable.

She heard a few cracks as Mara stood, throwing her hands over her head, leaning left and right with a yawn. “I’m… yaaa… going to check on Nemesis; this probably wasn’t even enough to whet his appetite. You good with just Selvaria?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Mara… You don’t know how much all of this means to me. I’m… terrified… what if this is all just a nightmare, and I’m still in the middle of the ocean… fighting those things.”

“Well, I know it doesn’t mean much, but it’s real, and if you need someone to slap your face, I can make that happen.”

Melissa giggled as a sharp gust of wind blasted into the room, blowing back her hair and ruffling her wolves’ black fur, likely caused by Mara’s powers. “I’ll be sure to remember it.”

Selvaria skidded into the corridor with Galatea, the Leviathan causing a resonating reverberation by colliding into the wall in her haste, making Cahira hiss.

“Ya tryin’ ta run holes in mi ship, girl?”

“Humph—I still haven’t forgiven you,” Selvaria huffed, promptly walking past her.

“Haaa… I was joking! Can’t I be playful and joke around every so often?” she grumbled, stomping off.

Mara waved at Selvaria as she passed, chuckling at the Leviathan’s returned response.

“Not when a girl’s terrified… She doesn’t need to feel like she’s surrounded by predators… we’re friends—right, Galatea?”

“Gyuuu!” she chimed.

“Uh… Melissa, I have some gifts for you!”

She walked forward with a curious smile as the Leviathan held her hand through the cracked door, propped open by some kind of separator, and in her grip was a slightly oversized snow-white sweater with a giant turtle neck.

“Try this on,” she said in a monotone, unexcited way—despite her eager movements—that Melissa was starting to like.

Moving forward to take the item, Melissa lifted it up for inspection.

“How? Do you want me to poke a hole through the back again?”

“No. No. It’s a magical sweater.”

“Gyuu!” Galatea confirmed.

“I killed all sorts of stuff and inspected them before bringing the stuff back to Cahira; if you ask what features it has, you’ll get a rundown of its abilities.”

Her saliva became sticky as the apprehension gripped her belly while studying the article, and, while her hounds sniffed it, she internally asked the question.

What do you do?

A flood of information made her black eyes widen. “Internal dimensional storage?”

“Mhm,” Selvaria returned, hand darting back to produce green underwear and black winter tights that looked like they were adorned with real snowflakes, blowing down the sides of a dark backdrop. “The bra has a ghost hold, so it will work with the tentacles, and you can make the back of the sweater release the goods inside, so…”

“My tentacles can just… pop out if I want?”

“Mhm. Cool. Right? They’re pretty weird for most things, but Cahira’s treasure skill is upgrading a ton, so we get lots of weird stuff… just like her.”

“Haha. Maybe you’re being a bit too hard on her; she seems nice.”

“Just be careful,” Selvaria warned, wagging a finger soon followed by Galatea’s wagging tail in the door crack. “You can’t trust pirates—even if they’re cool—especially when they’re cool.”

“Gyuu-gyuu-gyuuuu!”

The woman’s glowing spikes poked through as she leaned forward to whisper, “I don’t trust her fully, either; she’s kind of sketchy sometimes—especially when Jack showed up!”

“Alright, I’ll be careful.” She looked down at the items in her hands, a smile on her lips and tears in her eyes; no one had been so kind to her since she’d transformed, including her short time as a Nymph. “I’ll put them on and be out in a bit.”

“Oh, let me get a brush—we can pull your hair up in a braid—you can do mine, too.”

Lip tucking under as she remembered doing the same with her little sister, Melissa held the items against her burning breast. “Yeah… that will help with the wind.”

One of her wolves nuzzled her shoulder, and she decided to keep that one out, returning the others to her waist as she dried off; it was a little awkward using her tentacles to wipe herself down, but she gradually got used to the movements and unpleasant imagery.

Once dry, she carefully slid her eight tentacles into the sweater and was shocked to feel empty space meet her tips as she pushed the entire length into the clothing; it really did have internal storage space.

Pulling it off, she tested out the bra—it worked as advertised—and it phased right through her tentacles yet provided plenty of support for her bust and was practically weightless against her shoulders.

She dawned the rest of the outfit first, and she’d never had more comfortable feeling clothes which the sweater was the crowning jewel; it was fluffy as a cloud and allowed her to even spread out her dragons and restricted four tentacle tattoos without breaking, but she did start to feel the edges of the space, showing it wasn’t infinite and she couldn’t stretch out far.

Still, it provided a decent comfort zone that was pleasant enough to not be bothered by.

Melissa exited with a smile and was met by Selvaria’s emotionless thumbs up. “Looking good. Winter’s the best month, too; I want to bring snow to Miami.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I told Mrs. Claus I want snow on Christmas, and she said she’d put in an order.”

“R-Really?”

“Mhm. I met Mrs. Claus in Cuba, and she was really nice… strong, too. They’re on a quest to free all their reindeer—Santa and her, that is—Santa’s kind of a badass like that.”

“Oh. I didn’t know,” Melissa giggled, wondering if she was joking or not. “Want to help me with my hair… it’s kind of a mess…”

“Yup. Makeover time.”

Moving to one of the side rooms, the wolf and Galatia were outside the door, making sure no one interrupted or got any funny ideas; she was a little surprised when the Leviathan reached into a random drawer to extract brushes and ties. Cahira’s ship supposedly functioned as a repository that released its goods on request to those with access.

Having her locks bound by a girl she just barely met and wearing magical clothes she’d fought monsters for felt like a total dream or fantasy, yet here she sat, a Leviathan Mythickin carefully brushing out her locks to be fashioned.

Selvaria gave Melissa a tight hug, reminding her how strong the woman was before pulling back and patting her on the head—she just realized how odd the action was—but when the fervent Leviathan said she’d protect her and be her older sister, she felt a pull at her heart.

Older sister… It would be nice to have someone to look after me for once…

Content with the braid, Selvaria guided her outside to see where they were in their journey; the Leviathan had a tight appointment to keep with her mother, who she was assured would be excited to meet Melissa.

The wind was gentle when she exited the ship’s interior, and she squinted as the blazing sun met her eyes; they were on the open sea, and more than a few men kept far on the back left of the massive deck.

Mara noticed her gaze as she stood with Nemesis near the bow and gave Melissa a wink. “Ah, I told them you were a terrifying monster that crushed men’s bones to drink their marrow; it seemed to work like a charm since they saw part of the battle through the windows.”

“Hehe. Are they… not friends of yours?” she asked, giving the lion a nervous smile as he appraised her narrow-eyed wolf that walked beside them.

Nemesis was a giant, towering over seven feet tall—which was ironic, considering her own colossal size—there was something ominous and frightening about the lion, yet he only laughed at her question.

“I don’t have friends; I only have a master.”

Mara’s head drooped against her palm as Melissa turned her quizzical gaze to her at the comment. “Ignore him. He’s from the African slave trade.”

Not knowing why that was supposed to make sense, she took the advice and brushed it from her mind.

“Are we nearing the island?”

“We are!”

Everyone turned to spot the grinning redhead as she strode toward them with Jack Ward by her side—a bottle in both hands—Melissa had no idea why he didn’t use his actual name, or maybe it actually was Jack.

“Aye, mi fiery beaut,” he swayed, pink in the face, “we be outta troubled waters and onto the trail o’ the mist, as they say; we strike shore at eventide! Until then—rum! Rum all ‘round! Ah-haha!”

Cahira snatched one of his bottles to throw it in the air. “Rum ta steel the belly! Party—grilled Rok for us all—Jack’s treat!”

Mara held up her hand at the revelation. “Not eating it then,” she flatly denied, followed by Selvaria and Galatea, but everyone paused as Melissa’s stomach growled at the thought of food.

Saliva gathering in her mouth, she forced a chuckle. “I-uh… haven’t had a lot to eat today, and… yeah.”

Spotting one of the birds on a pile Nemesis had created, Selvaria grabbed one with a small grin. “I’ll be cooking for Melissa and myself then. Oh, and any funny business while I’m cooking, and you won’t even be fish bait!” she growled, poking a finger at Jack.

“On mi fine name!” Jack roared, lifting his bottle. “So long as there be a rum flavored!”

“Always rum with you,” Nemesis laughed. “Have you tried seasoning it? Maybe I’ll try some cooking. What do you say, Mara?”

She thoughtfully tilted her head. “You… cook? Huh. Sure. I’ll help out.”

Jack summoned two cooking knives into his hands, flipping them around in the air. “Poultry tonight, loves; allow me to show ya how ta prepare a feast fit for a king—hehe, and beasties alike!”

A little curious as to the process and how they’d even go about defeathering the birds, she was a little surprised at how versatile Mara’s voice was, shredding them with a melodic tone and separating the meat from the waste.

Cahira used some of her points to upgrade her kitchen to handle the orders, which she said was a wise investment for a vessel of the sea, and she experienced the first joyful day in what seemed ages.

Selvaria bustled her to their own part of the area for a cooking competition, grabbing salt, pepper, curry spices, oil, and a big chef pan. “We’ll win. I’m an amazing cook. Right, Galatea?”

The baby seal’s head bobbed up and down. “Gyuu!”

“I’m happy to eat anything,” Melissa giggled, but Selvaria didn’t seem to be having it as she lifted a knife into the air as if proclaiming an already won war, and she guessed it fit, considering the ease these people had after such a storm.

“Every girl deserves a good, hot meal after a battle.”

She then put the spices into a deep broiling pan, followed by the defeathered bird, deboning it with surprising skill, and then started to massage the spices onto the meat. Selvaria then put the pan with the wrapped bird into the giant oven, preheated to 260 degrees Celsius for 30 mins for the big birds.

A further enjoyable exchange came when the Leviathan guided Melissa through putting the bird bones in a giant pot with boiling water to make a bone soup with the slew of vegetables—that apparently Selvaria bought at the last island they went to—which the Pirate Queen produced from her fridge.

As nightfall fell, Melissa enjoyed the laughter and comedic banter between the crew members; the food was wonderful, and Selvaria wasn’t joking that she knew how to cook, yet the festivities died down when they were met by a thick fog, causing the pirate named Bonnet to poke his head out from the back to whisper to Cahira a ways off.

Melissa listened to their conversation, cat ears twitched at the soft slosh of the waves against metal.

“Cahira, my men are wondering how safe they’ll be under your protection when you couldn’t safeguard our ship… You said this wouldn’t be a challenge when we followed you.”

“Ya came of yer own free will, Bonnet; don’t be gettin’ shaky boots on me—heh, or do—I don’t care either way. I promised you a reward if ya pulled yer weight, and so far, you’ve only been a hindrance. Now, put yer big boy pants on because a lass wearing panties be havin’ more balls!”

He hissed out a long stream of air. “We better come out of this with something to show Parliament… for both our sakes.”

Jack and Cahira watched him retreat as Melissa listened.

“Charming bloke, eh?”

“Aye,” the redhead sighed. “Ya know he’ll be wantin’ ta set ya up after this be done?”

“I’m five steps ahead of ya there, love. Bonnet’s nothin’ but a puppet to his desire for fame, and it’s not hard ta see the downfall of a man of such… Blackbeard isn’t one to be crossed.”

“True, be that, Jackie… The destination.”

Melissa’s braid shifted at her back as she hugged her sweater tighter and leaned against the railing to see what the Pirate Queen spotted; black sand, trees, and glistening rocks opened up to reveal the haunted island, and she suddenly realized the sounds of the waves had become almost a whisper to her feline ears.

Isla de Marda greeted them with a silence fit for the grave.

Cahira breathed a long sigh as she stopped beside her, glaring at the hazy obsidian beach that showed no signs of life ever disturbing its dunes. “Do ya be reckoning you’ll join us, Lass?”

Lips tightening, she nodded as Jack, Nemesis, Mara, Selvaria, and Galatea joined them to observe the still place without breeze, yet the swirling, ethereal fog cared little for logic.

Fingernails pressing against her palm, she nodded. “I need points… I’m going.”

Cahira grinned. “Hehe. Alright, loves… Let’s see what Isla de Marda has in store for us.”