The Admiral

James Morgan

There was no doubt in my mind, she was real, the angel radiating life-restoring warmth was real. I could feel her weight on top of me and my hands confirmed her presence before I drifted out of consciousness.

When I felt her hair between my fingers, I managed to catch a glimpse of the color, white, reminding me of the young girl from my childhood. I’ll never forget her, Arden Lexington.

I must have been fifteen or sixteen years old at the time, she was maybe a year younger than me.

When Arden arrived at The Academy, she was an awkward, skinny girl that kept to herself. The Academy is not an easy place to survive, all the students seemingly in competition with one another, all wanting to climb the ranks and impress the instructors who had all served time in the International Pirate Hunter’s Fleet. They were the ones who made the decision if you were good enough to join. Only their approval mattered.

Arden watched for the most part for the first week or so and didn’t take part in lessons. The other girls always teased her about her messy hair and skinny frame, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on her, and it only made them try harder.

The first time she was allowed to spar it was me she was partnered up against. I thought there had been some mistake, I was one of the best and she was yet to be placed into a league. When she approached me, sparring sword in hand, I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. She was fierce, and determined, and her piercing gaze alone shook my confidence.

Arden had me disarmed and on my back in seven moves with the tip of her sword at my neck.

After that day, no one dared tease her again and I was officially, completely, and utterly smitten.

I made it my mission to get to know her, while Arden made it hers to isolate herself from everyone. Everyone except for Wyatt Grayson, which infuriated me to an extent I didn’t understand. Wyatt was one of the Academy’s favorites, and it seemed that Arden was to join him at the top. She would talk with him, joke with him, and they’d laugh together. It was my first experience with envy.

It was months before Arden gave me the time of day. I had snuck out of my room in the middle of the night with some of the boys. We were on our way out to go swimming in the lake, something we would do on full moons, but when I caught a glimpse of long white hair in the training courtyard, I snuck away to see what she was doing.

Arden was training. While the rest of us were sneaking around to go swimming, she was up every night, training.

I watched her train each night for about a week, and it was obvious the instructors knew she was out there; sometimes they would even come and give her guidance.

As I gathered enough courage to finally approach her, she already knew I was there, she knew I was watching her. When she looked at me, I remember feeling it then for the first time, that pang in my chest that made it impossible to breathe. She was incandescent with that wild hair framing her face so beautifully in the moonlight and for a long time neither one of us spoke.

Eventually, she just held out a sparring sword and we started training. Every night I would join her, never exchanging words, only blows. She was unlike the other girls; all they wanted to do was talk about themselves, gossip about someone else, or make me talk about myself. Needless to say, sixteen-year-old boys don’t have many Earth-shattering things to say. My interests included guns and swords, not much to elaborate on from there.

Arden didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to beat the shit out of me on a nightly basis, and since she never held back, I tried not to either. It was difficult, I never wanted to hurt her. I got to know her through the way she moved, and the choices she made, they were never predictable yet always precise and served a purpose, and I felt her getting physically stronger each night.

One night we were both so exhausted we lay on the ground in the training courtyard catching our breath. I looked over at her, and when she looked at me, I couldn’t help myself, the words just tumbled out, “Arden...may I kiss you?”

For what felt like an eternity Arden said nothing as her eyes scanned mine. The storm of regret started to rage within my mind and just as I sat up to leave, Arden’s hand wrapped around my wrist, and she pulled me closer.

Her eyes were lowered and the blush spreading across her cheeks made my heart pound.

Arden tugged me closer, and it was all the consent I needed. I remember the way she bit her bottom lip, and I couldn’t resist tracing it with my thumb.

Our kiss was soft and gentle, nothing like the Arden I encountered each night. She was tender, and vulnerable, and her hands pulled me closer, it drove me insane with euphoria.

When it was over, I held her in my arms, and we sat there until the sun started to rise.

“James,” It was the first and last time she would say my name. I looked down at Arden, her big brown eyes filled with sorrow, “I’m leaving today.”

I never saw her again. She and Wyatt were never seen again.

Not until I opened my eyes just now. I thought I saw her. I try to focus my eyes but it’s so bright in here I can barely make out a thing.

“Arden...?” I hear my weak and raspy voice call out, but it’s not Arden who answers back.

An unfamiliar voice starts talking to me, but I barely hear a word he says.

I don’t know whether it was really her, or just a dream, but it feels as if I’m re-living her leaving me for a second time.