Captain - The rain of arrows

That shot seemed to ignite the conflict. Both sides fired shots, small flaming cannonballs danced with the dragons, which were too high above the firing line to be hit. The fireballs, almost the size of those that armed the king's warships, flew above the Curious Lord in both directions, leaving a trail of fire and smoke in their wake. Several vessels were hit, and the thunderous impact only did not drown out the sea because it did not compare to the roar of that dragon. The rain of fire seemed incessant—hundreds, perhaps thousands of cannonballs were fired and crisscrossed the sky from one side to the other, while the crew gave their all to row and admire the spectacle. For a moment, the captain realized the beauty of that moment. Two dragons fighting while stars were launched over their heads—if they survived that, no one would believe their stories. Nearby, two fireballs collided, each coming from a different side of the conflict. Both exploded into millions of pieces that stirred the water, which now appeared crystal clear as it reflected the now azure sky. The danger only increased with each passing second, but the line of ships on both sides seemed infinite. The crew was already giving their maximum effort, but it might not be enough to come out of that madness alive.

Far away, two more bullets collided, creating another shower of what seemed like steel and fire. The sea churned as the dragons continued to fight amidst it all. That was when one roar ceased, replaced by a deeper one. The captain's eyes raced to the sky, where no sun shone, and only magic seemed to confront the darkness. The wine dragon had finally been struck in the head, its fur burning from the yellow flame that incessantly escaped the white dragon's mouth and continued to engulf the bloodied creature's body. The wine dragon ceased its dance, only emitting a sweet and lamentable sound as it crashed into the ocean and disappeared beneath the waters. The white lizard was already stained with blue, what seemed to be its blood, but it still had the strength to continue the conflict. When it realized victory was at hand, it released a roar as powerful as before and pounced on the enemy vessels. The fire it unleashed was so violent that it seemed to pulverize everything it touched. The proximity of the enemy ships allowed the captain to observe them more closely: they were larger than any warship he had ever seen, almost five times the external height of the Curious Lord, not to mention what was still submerged beneath the water. They appeared to be encased in iron, as if every joint of wood was reinforced with metal, but what impressed him the most were the colors. He had never seen a painted ship before; the idea of applying paint to the hull had never crossed his mind. He considered himself a fool because those ships were the most beautiful things he had ever witnessed in his entire life. The yellows dominated the front line, but all the other colors could be seen in the background, from the darkest black to the brightest white, along with blue, red, and pink. The details of the vessels were immense, as if palaces had been built on top of them. The beauty was only overshadowed by the distance that those predators still maintained from the Curious Lord. The ships, now on the captain's left side, under attack by the white dragon, were closer than the ships on the right side, the owners of the dragon, which were still far away.

The rowing continued, accompanied by the fireballs that crisscrossed the sky incessantly. The dragon seemed to be hit by the projectiles constantly, but its hide appeared to be more resilient than the purest steel Captain had ever seen. It was unyielding. When smoke filled the side that had lost its dragon, the rainbow joined the battle. The colorful ships began firing rays of various colors that streaked across the sky without leaving a trace until they hit the enemy vessels. The result was countless explosions in a variety of hues. The response came swiftly; the side with the white dragon darkened the sky with arrows. It was only then that Captain realized that this conflict was, after all, driven by other men. Most of the arrows flew far above the heads of his sailors, raining down like a blanket over the colorful ships. The dragon was hit once again, but it continued to breathe fire and roar as if nothing had happened. Even the colored rays had no effect on the beast; its body seemed to absorb the magic, if indeed those rays were magical. But this time, Lord Curious was not spared. Dozens of arrows rained down on the ship. Some men trembled as they fell, screaming in pain and fright, while others stopped rowing to assist their comrades. Most of the arrows struck the hull and the deck, but a good number of men were also hit. Crooked Finger was one of the unlucky ones. The man had crouched down by the rail and remained huddled there, crying. Captain had forgotten about him. The arrow had practically pierced through the middle of his chest, slightly to the side of his heart, much to the man's misfortune. His groan resembled that of the dragon. Captain rushed to help him, but there was nothing that could be done; the arrow must have gone right through the man's body. Crooked Finger contorted his face and clutched onto his captain's arm with all his might, then he stared fixedly into his friend's eyes and slowly relaxed his arm and his face. He was dead.