Born: 1645, Cádiz, Spain
Died: Reported to have been killed by pirates near the Windward Passage in January of 1690
Affiliation: Spanish Empire (formerly), Night Wind (currently)
Titles: Capitán de Navío, Admiral (exiled), Quartermaster of the Night Wind
Known For: Command of the San Ignacio, modernization of the Armada de Barlovento, defense of Havana, exile, resurrection, service aboard the Night Wind

Admiral Corlissandro de Villanueva was a brilliant but ultimately doomed Spanish naval commander active during the golden age of piracy in the Caribbean. A fierce patriot and strict disciplinarian, he was widely respected for his intelligence, courage, and reformist vision. His naval strategies blended Spanish boarding traditions with French and Dutch gunnery techniques and magical warfare, earning him both admiration and suspicion from his superiors.

A staunch Catholic and servant of the crown, Corlissandro’s life was marked by contradiction. Betrayed by his own government and assassinated by trusted subordinates, he was mysteriously resurrected after accepting a metaphysical pact with a being he believed was a devil. His story embodies both the heights of imperial loyalty and the depths of personal and spiritual torment. Now serving as quartermaster aboard the Night Wind under his former adversary Captain Scarlette Jane, Corlissandro navigates a new existence between the living and the supernatural.

Early Life and Education

Corlissandro de Villanueva was born in 1645 in the bustling port city of Cádiz, Spain, during a turbulent period of imperial overstretch and maritime innovation. His birth coincided with the end of Spain’s Twelve Years’ Truce with the Dutch and the early stages of the Portuguese Restoration War, a time that imprinted a sense of martial urgency across the Iberian Peninsula. His family, the de Villanuevas, were an old hidalgo lineage who had gradually transitioned from landed nobility into bureaucratic and naval service by the early 17th century.

His father, Alonso de Villanueva, held a post within the Casa de Contratación as a legal comptroller overseeing shipments to and from the Indies. His mother, Isabel Pardo de Sotomayor, was the daughter of a Galician artillery officer who had served in the Low Countries. The household was devoutly Catholic and steeped in Crown service, with a profound belief in duty to empire as divine obligation. Corlissandro’s earliest years were defined by structured piety, education, and the ceaseless activity of a port that saw the comings and goings of treasure fleets, soldiers, priests, and foreign merchants.

Cádiz itself was not just a city but a school of the world. Its docks spoke Latin, Arabic, Nahuatl, and the dialects of Flanders and Genoa. From this environment, Corlissandro developed a precocious intellect and a fascination with order amidst chaos.

Between the ages of 6 and 11, Corlissandro was educated at a Jesuit preparatory school, Colegio de San Sebastián, where he was taught Latin, rhetoric, Aristotelian logic, and the rudiments of navigation and sacred cosmology. It was here that he first encountered Jesuit magical theory, including guarded teachings on celestial alignments, divine correspondences, and the permitted boundaries of magical invocation in service to God and King.

His schooling was supplemented by instruction from his maternal uncle, Don Mauricio de Sotomayor, a retired artillery officer. Don Mauricio introduced him to military treatises, the works of Vegetius, and translated manuals on Dutch shipbuilding, fostering in young Corlissandro a reverence for precision and logistics. Under this influence, Corlissandro began drafting his own rudimentary fleet formations by age ten, using game pieces carved from olive wood.

By his early teens, he was apprenticed informally to the harbor quartermaster, Fray Esteban del Mar, a secular cleric with ties to the Dominican Order and known for organizing naval supply convoys. Fray Esteban, recognizing the boy’s talents, arranged for Corlissandro to attend practical instruction at the Real Escuela Náutica de Cádiz. There, Corlissandro studied astronomical navigation using cross-staff and astrolabe, maritime law and oaths of command, and fleet provisioning, ballast science, and shipboard discipline.

The geopolitical reality of the Spanish Empire in the 1650s was one of naval exhaustion and creeping decay. Corlissandro witnessed the arrival of wounded sailors from the Battle of the Dunes (1658) and heard firsthand accounts of the Barbary corsair attacks that plagued Andalusian coasts. He grew up haunted by Spain’s waning military supremacy and the petty corruption of dock officers. These early experiences hardened his idealism. He vowed to become a naval officer beyond reproach, someone who would restore the dignity of the fleet through mastery of both sea and soul.

He also began to notice the contradictions of empire, how the same institution that demanded loyalty often failed to honor it. These early impressions fed his belief that every man aboard ship was beholden to each other, and that officers owed as much loyalty to their men as the sailors owed to the Crown.

At age 15, in 1660, Corlissandro formally enlisted in the Spanish Navy as a guardiamarina, a rare honor for someone of his age and background. He was assigned to the Nuestra Señora de la Concepción, a galleon stationed at La Línea de la Concepción, guarding the southern coast and Gibraltar straits. That same year, he saw his first action against Barbary corsairs during a retaliatory skirmish following the raiding of Algeciras. Though only a midshipman, Corlissandro earned praise for rallying disoriented crewmen and securing cannon stores after a below-deck explosion. His logbook entries from the campaign already reflected the tone that would define him: terse, pragmatic, and unsentimentally focused on effectiveness. Corlissandro’s personal thoughts were guarded even from his own journals.

This formative experience sealed his course for life. From the chaos of smoke, sea, and spellfire, Corlissandro emerged convinced that the soul of Spain must be defended not only by sword and sail, but by clarity of vision and the exorcism of disorder, whether it be heresy, corruption, or cowardice.

Naval Career in the Caribbean

Corlissandro’s advancement through the Spanish naval ranks was marked by methodical discipline, tactical rigor, and a growing reputation for reform-minded efficiency. From the chaos of Barbary skirmishes to the intricate rhythms of treasure fleet logistics, he proved himself a steady, insightful officer who earned the respect of superiors through quiet competence rather than bravado.

Following his first campaign aboard the Nuestra Señora de la Concepción, Corlissandro was transferred in 1662 to the Santa Gertrudis, a lighter escort brigantine that patrolled the coastlines of Andalusia and the Canary Islands. During this assignment, he assisted in enforcing embargoes against smugglers and observing Ottoman and Dutch movements along the western sea lanes. His reports were notable for their clarity and structured detail, identifying procedural inconsistencies in fleet provisioning and crew readiness, topics usually ignored by junior officers. His precision, punctuality, and exacting reports earned him notice from the Cádiz admiralty, and in 1665, he was promoted to Alférez de Fragata.

By then, the Spanish Navy had become overstretched and chronically underfunded, especially in the wake of renewed tensions with England and the lingering war with Portugal. The need for officers who could enforce discipline and manage scarce resources was growing urgent, especially in the Indies, and Corlissandro fit this mold perfectly: hardworking, incorruptible, and unflinchingly loyal.

Corlissandro arrived in the Caribbean Basin in early 1666, attached to a convoy supplying Havana and Veracruz. There, he was posted to the San Marcos, an aging galleon tasked with escorting silver fleets from New Spain. The experience proved transformative. The logistical challenges of defending vulnerable treasure fleets through storm-wracked and pirate-infested waters gave him firsthand exposure to the dysfunction of Spain’s colonial fleet doctrine. Inadequate hull maintenance, poor coordination between ports, and inconsistent command protocols resulted in multiple near-catastrophes, none due to enemy action but rather systemic neglect.

Corlissandro responded by devising and implementing improved procedures for signal lantern systems for night formation changes, preliminary quartermaster logs to monitor supply usage, and gun deck readiness rotations to preserve crew stamina. Though not yet in a position to implement fleet-wide changes, he began to earn the trust of senior officers who saw in him a man who understood the slow machinery of empire and sought to refine it, not simply serve it. This emerging philosophy, that valor was no substitute for systemic design, became the cornerstone of his later reforms.

In 1670, Corlissandro was promoted to Teniente de Navío and assigned to the Santa Clara, one of the larger and better-maintained escort galleons operating along the Carrera de Indias. His role had expanded from one ship to crafting defensive strategies for the convoys he escorted. He introduced innovations that would later be formalized as policy: more agile inter-ship signaling systems using timed lantern flashes and colored flags, fleet positioning rotations to reduce fatigue, simplified cannon readiness protocols that halved the time from alert to volley, and contingency charts for storm dispersal and rendezvous locations that accounted for seasonal wind shifts and coastal geography.

His commanding officer, Capitán Teobaldo de Fuensalida, praised Corlissandro as “a man who plots tides in his sleep and knows the distance between two guns by sound alone.” Despite growing influence, Corlissandro remained austere and solitary. He kept to his quarters, rose earlier than the rest of the crew, ate sparingly, and regularly attended mass with the enlisted men rather than dine with the other officers. He carried with him a well-worn copy of Vegetius’ De Re Militari, alongside notebooks where he sketched idealized ship schematics and theoretical convoy formations. Corlissandro was neither loved nor disdained by his fellow crew, but he was respected.

The mid-1670s saw a surge in French, Dutch, and English privateer activity, emboldened by Spain’s declining naval investment and strained colonial communications. As a result, Corlissandro’s attention shifted from procedure to combat doctrine. Though not yet in direct command, he was frequently placed in charge of defensive formations during escort missions and detachment deployments. In 1675, he oversaw the safe withdrawal of a merchant flotilla from Santa Marta, successfully using a line-ahead feint to distract pirate vessels while the merchants fled north. In 1676, he played a key role in the rescue of the Spanish garrison at Trujillo, whose port had been blockaded by corsairs. When storms scattered the relief flotilla, Corlissandro convinced his captain to redirect their ship independently to an alternate anchorage, oversaw emergency rigging repairs, and arrived in time to reinforce Trujillo just as French raiders began landing. Though not flamboyant in action, his quiet decisiveness under pressure earned him fame among the Spanish naval commanders.

By 1678, after eighteen years of service, Corlissandro had built a sterling reputation as a reliable, reform-minded officer who combined tactical insight with a profound understanding of naval structure and a zeal for righteous order. The viceroy’s office in Havana personally recommended him for independent command. That year, he was promoted to Capitán de Navío and given command of the 60-gun galleon San Ignacio, based in Havana and tasked with safeguarding Spain’s most vital sea lanes, with the additional unofficial mandate to “stiffen the spine of the Caribbean defense.”

Command of the San Ignacio

From his base of operations in Havana, Corlissandro quickly gained a reputation for precision, unwavering readiness, and a relentless campaign of privateer suppression. His tenure marked a rare period of Spanish naval resurgence in the region, and he was entrusted with both escorting treasure fleets and defending strategic ports and sea lanes. He oversaw significant improvements to the San Ignacio’s sailing routines and readiness, implementing night gunnery drills and tightening command protocols. He began integrating continental gunnery innovations, including French long-range cannon techniques and Dutch fire coordination tactics, with Spanish boarding doctrine, a hybrid approach that confounded and demoralized several pirate flotillas during the early 1680s.

Corlissandro also made it a personal practice to drill with his marines and personally inspect every gun crew rotation, gaining the respect of seasoned veterans and the grudging loyalty of newly impressed conscripts. His methods were severe, but his success undeniable. In 1679, he led the successful defense of Cartagena de Indias, where a combined force of French and English privateers attempted a surprise harbor assault. Corlissandro preempted their movements through well-placed scouts and enacted a layered harbor defense using fire ships and staggered artillery arcs.

In 1682, Governor Francisco Fernández de Angulo y Pimentel was introduced to Captain Corlissandro de Villanueva. While some Spanish officials found Corlissandro overly rigid and politically naïve, Angulo recognized in him a rare blend of integrity, intellect, and martial competence. Their relationship grew from mutual respect into a working partnership and personal friendship. Angulo served as Corlissandro’s political patron, helping him navigate colonial bureaucracy and shielding him from rival factions within the Spanish command. Together, they coordinated convoy protection strategy around Havana and the Yucatán Channel, shared intelligence on French privateer movements, and jointly planned the defensive structure of Havana, integrating land and naval forces.

Corlissandro also worked closely with Andrés Ochoa de Zárate, the Captain-General of the Armada de Barlovento. According to recovered journals and letters from the San Ignacio, Ochoa de Zárate maintained a mentorship and professional camaraderie with Corlissandro. The two worked closely during joint operations from 1682 to 1685, with Ochoa entrusting Villanueva with command of flanking patrols and high-risk convoy escorts. This relationship proved foundational for Corlissandro’s later career. Ochoa wrote a key recommendation for Corlissandro in the months between the Battle off Havana and Ochoa’s death in September 1685.

During the infamous Raid on Veracruz in May 1683, Corlissandro pursued but failed to intercept the Nightwind captained by Scarlette Jane. As the Spanish approached Veracruz under Admiral Ochoa de Zárate, Scarlette intentionally revealed her position along the horizon. Seeing an opportunity to eliminate a dangerous enemy vessel, Corlissandro broke formation with permission and gave chase. Scarlette lured the heavier galleon into a narrow coastal channel filled with uncharted reefs, invisible sandbars, and enchanted illusions. The San Ignacio struggled in the shallow waters. Though the San Ignacio eventually managed to maneuver close enough to fire on the Nightwind, Scarlet’s evasive tactics and terrain knowledge gave her the edge. Chain shot damaged the San Ignacio’s rigging, and at one point the Nightwind ignited a powder keg it had dropped in the water. The resulting blast disoriented the San Ignacio, and the smoke it generated obscured the Spanish ship’s vision. Unwilling to endanger his ship further, Corlissandro disengaged and returned to port, delayed and bitter. He had failed to stop her, and in the time he had been gone, Veracruz had fallen. Though Corlissandro was commended for bravery, he was privately rebuked for abandoning formation. The failure to protect Veracruz haunted his reputation, even as he rose through the ranks in following years. The failure caused by his attempt to chase glory would affect his decision making for the rest of his career.

It was during this incident that he first encountered Fray Tomás de Santo Iago, a Dominican friar with unexpected political insight and regional knowledge. Following the devastating Raid on Veracruz, Tomás was entrusted by Captain Scarlette Jane herself with a sealed letter meant for Corlissandro, a taunting personal message, part insult, part challenge. Tomás ensured its safe delivery without interference or censorship. In the coming days, as the Spanish tried to recover from the sack of Veracruz, Tomás made contact with Corlissandro and delivered the message as instructed. That meeting began a bond of trust that would change both of their lives. Corlissandro soon recruited him as his Agente de Indias, using the friar to carry confidential messages, monitor supply chains, and discreetly gather intelligence from clergy and port officials.

During this period, Corlissandro also gained the service of Leoncio Paredes de Tagle. Born in 1671 in the port district of Cádiz, Leoncio was the son of a dockside winch operator and a candlemaker. As a child, he lingered around naval yards and merchant piers, often running errands for sailors and stewards. His keen memory and quiet demeanor drew the attention of a quartermaster attached to the San Ignacio, and by 1682, he was brought aboard as a ship’s page, aged 11. During the 1683 Raid on Veracruz, Leoncio, then barely 12, reportedly helped recover consecrated objects from the sacked port’s cathedral, returning them to the San Ignacio at great personal risk. It was after this event that Captain Corlissandro de Villanueva formally accepted him as his Escudero Personal, or personal squire.

At the Battle off Havana in July 1685, Corlissandro coordinated a successful counter to Jean-Pierre Reynaud’s preying on Spanish shipping lines. As the San Ignacio moved to capture the Étoile du Nord, the two ships exchanged brutal fire. The Nightwind coordinated with Reynaud to disrupt Spanish formation, and Scarlette maneuvered behind the Santa Teresa, confusing it with illusions and damaging its rigging with well-placed cannon fire. Scarlette created an opening where the San Ignacio was temporarily isolated as the rest of the Spanish force maneuvered to regroup. To prevent the San Ignacio from boarding the Étoile du Nord, Scarlette staged a false boarding action by projecting the illusion of grappling hooks and shadowy figures leaping onto the San Ignacio’s deck. The San Ignacio’s marines scrambled to repel the nonexistent attackers, exposing the deck to a volley of precise fire from the real Nightwind nearby.

Despite the deception, Corlissandro maintained the composure of both himself and his crew. Recognizing the magical tactics in play, he shifted to close-range cannon fire, minimizing the effectiveness of illusions. He held the center while ordering the San Felipe and El Viento to engage the smaller French raiders rather than help the San Ignacio, leading to one of the privateer ships being disabled and sunk by a concentrated broadside. Corlissandro then executed a disciplined pivot, bringing the San Ignacio broadside to bear against both the crippled Étoile du Nord and the location of the real Nightwind, which an eagle-eyed crewman had managed to figure out. That final volley shattered the Étoile du Nord’s quarterdeck, leaving Reynaud’s vessel dead in the water. The Nightwind, being farther away from the San Ignacio, took heavy fire but remained functioning.

Realizing the battle was lost, Scarlette launched a desperate maneuver. The Nightwind raced directly between the San Ignacio and the Étoile du Nord, projecting six mirages of herself at varying distances while her real vessel fired smoke pots and rigging shot. The tactic worked. Spanish fire lashed out at false targets as Scarlet’s real ship veered away, shielding Reynaud’s retreat. Though badly damaged, the Étoile du Nord escaped under cover of illusion and haze. Corlissandro, faced with the opportunity to pursue the fleeing French or return to Havana, chose defense over glory, fearing a secondary raiding force might exploit his absence. His fleet rescued the survivors from the sunk privateer vessel, taking them prisoner before promptly returning to defend Havana as ordered.

The Battle off Havana ended as a tactical Spanish victory. One French raider was sunk, the Étoile du Nord was crippled and sank before reaching port, and the shipping lanes around Havana became safer once again. The Étoile du Nord was abandoned, its crew rescued by the Nightwind and other vessels. Jean-Pierre Reynaud’s raiding career was effectively ended. He would never again challenge Spanish waters at such scale. Scarlet, though part of the defeated side, emerged with her legend burnished and having many of Reynaud’s best crew join her ship. Governor Angulo later praised Corlissandro’s leadership in official dispatches to Madrid, helping secure his promotion to admiral in 1687.

Between 1686 and 1687, Corlissandro oversaw convoy reforms across the Yucatán corridor. He introduced a staggered departure system that reduced bottlenecks and exposed fewer ships to simultaneous risk. This earned him both admiration and resentment, as it forced coordination across colonial offices that had long operated independently or corruptly.

His crowning engagement was the Ambush at Isla de Pinos in March 1687, where Corlissandro lured Pierre Duval’s pirate fleet into a five-ship trap. Spanish informants and maritime couriers in Santo Domingo and Trinidad intercepted signals and merchant rumors that suggested Pierre Duval, one of France’s most aggressive privateer commanders, intended to resupply near the Isla de Pinos. The Spanish command in Havana approved a bold plan to intercept Duval’s fleet mid-transit, entrusting its execution to Corlissandro. He devised a precise multi-vector ambush within the narrow channel waters of Isla de Pinos, combining firepower, deception, and terrain to trap the French flotilla.

Unknown to the Spanish until late in their preparations, Scarlette Jane and her ship, the Nightwind, had joined Duval’s fleet only days earlier. Her schooner, damaged in a recent storm, required rudimentary rigging repairs and additional supplies. Corlissandro resolved to continue the ambush, recognizing the risk but also the strategic opportunity.

The Spanish squadron consisted of five vessels: the San Ignacio as flagship, Nuestra Señora del Rosario commanded by Rodrigo Medina blocking the deep-water escape channel, Santa Teresa under Capitán Gaspar de Rentería pursuing lighter ships, San Felipe under Capitán Sebastián Vela as mobile reserve, and El Viento held in northern reserve. As Duval’s vessels passed the midpoint of the bay, Nuestra Señora del Rosario unleashed a devastating broadside.

Scarlette Jane, seeing the trap unfold, immediately attempted to withdraw the Nightwind from the field, but her rigging was still partially damaged from the prior storm. Unbeknownst to Scarlet, Corlissandro had prepared for this exact contingency. After their duel during the Battle off Havana, Corlissandro had resolved to neutralize the Nightwind’s illusions if they ever met again. He commissioned a scroll of true sight and placed it in the hands of his ship’s sorcerer. As the Nightwind attempted to deploy magical illusions and misdirection, Corlissandro feigned confusion, deliberately allowing the Nightwind to close into mid-range. Then, using the scroll’s power, the San Ignacio pierced the Nightwind’s cloaking magic, tracked its exact position, and closed to grappling range.

The San Ignacio launched grappling lines, pulling the lighter vessel into contact. In one of the most legendary maneuvers of the conflict, Spanish marines stormed the deck of the Nightwind, initiating a brutal boarding action that marked the only known time the elusive ship was successfully grappled. Despite magical defenses, the San Ignacio’s marines gained partial control of the deck, and Corlissandro himself joined the melee, wielding his rapier and main-gauche with deadly precision. He cut down several defenders and advanced toward the helm, where Scarlette awaited with drawn cutlass.

The duel between Corlissandro and Scarlette was brief but vicious. Though Corlissandro had the advantage in training and reach, Scarlette used her ship’s confined quarters, environmental hazards, and quick reflexes to keep him from landing a fatal blow. As more Spanish troops threatened to overwhelm the Nightwind’s crew, Scarlette threatened to ignite the ship’s powder stores, using a torch held by one of her lieutenants. Corlissandro, assessing the situation, realized that too much attention was being diverted to a single vessel while Duval’s main fleet maneuvered to escape. He offered Scarlette a conditional truce: she and her crew would be allowed to disengage and flee if she quit the battle immediately and ceased interference. Scarlette accepted, and the grappling lines were severed.

Corlissandro’s tactical plan, relying on misdirection, concealment, and simultaneous multi-directional attack, succeeded in crippling the enemy fleet. Le Trident was destroyed, La Revenante and Le Faucon Noir were captured, and Pierre Duval was captured and later executed. The Nightwind escaped, but her aura of invincibility had been tarnished. The red-lacquered scar on the Nightwind’s forward hull was added after the battle and remains her only visible distinguishing mark at range.

This engagement elevated Corlissandro to legend within the Caribbean command structure. His history of coordinating land-based assets, spies and counter-intelligence, and his advanced squadron tactics showed a level of foresight and control rarely achieved in the decentralized command climate of the Spanish Empire. Throughout this period, Corlissandro became known as both an unshakable disciplinarian and an innovator who trusted his subordinates when merit was proven. His flagship became a model of discipline and preparedness, and he quietly authored several operational memos that would later form the basis of his controversial treatise Rompiendo la Línea.

It was during this period, particularly following his encounters with the Nightwind, that Corlissandro began to fully embrace the elevation of magical warfare to the same level of importance as marine boarding tactics and artillery in naval combat.

Promotion, Political Downfall, and Exile

After the Ambush at Isla de Pinos in 1687, Corlissandro was promoted to Admiral and returned to Spain, where he was stationed at Cádiz with an imperial mandate to revitalize and modernize naval strategy in the Caribbean. Initially, the appointment was heralded as a long-overdue recognition of his battlefield successes and his reputation as a man of discipline and vision. But the two years that followed, from 1687 to 1689, would prove to be the most politically dangerous and fateful of his life.

As Admiral, Corlissandro wasted no time initiating reforms. While sailing back to Spain, Corlissandro authored a treatise on Caribbean naval warfare titled Rompiendo la Línea: Tácticas de Espada, Bala y Brujería en la Guerra del Caribe Moderno (Breaking the Line: Sword, Shot, and Sorcery Tactics in Modern Caribbean Warfare). The work was a blueprint for his reform agenda. Using the Spanish tradition of strong boarding maneuvers as a foundation, it then called for incorporating French and Dutch gunnery innovations to improve Spanish artillery. Corlissandro also deeply explored the integration of sorcery and magic in ship operations and combat, seeking to create a trifecta of naval strategy that would give Spain the advantage. Drawing from his field experience, he advocated for the professionalization of fleet logistics, proposed the standardization of magical support for ships, and recommended fundamental changes to ship design.

While these proposals aligned with the desperate need for reform, they alienated entrenched interests at every level of Spanish military and commercial administration. Corlissandro arrived in Cádiz in mid-late 1687 and immediately went to work implementing his plan. Unfortunately, his opposition was just as swift to respond.

In 1687, Spain was still notionally at peace with France, but tensions in the Spanish Netherlands and the Caribbean were mounting. Within the royal court of Charles II, factions had begun positioning themselves for what many assumed would be the king’s imminent death without an heir. One such group, known informally as the partido francés, promoted closer ties with the French crown and was increasingly willing to tolerate piracy and illicit trade if it meant short-term economic survival and French support in the succession crisis. Corlissandro’s uncompromising stance against French privateers and opposition to corruption placed him squarely in the sights of this faction.

Among his key opponents were Don Agustín de Figueroa, a Cádiz shipping magnate with deep ties to French-aligned contraband operations in the Caribbean who allegedly funded bribes and petitioned the court to delay Corlissandro’s fleet resupply orders; Don Manuel Joaquín Álvarez de Toledo, a senior naval administrator descended from the powerful House of Alba who held veto authority over naval budgets and officer commissions as part of the Junta de Armadas and was instrumental in redirecting fleet maintenance funds away from Cádiz in 1688; and Cardinal Luis Manuel Fernández de Portocarrero, the Archbishop of Toledo and Primate of Spain, who unofficially served as confessor to Charles II and wielded substantial power in religion and politics. Portocarrero regarded Corlissandro’s use of the arcane with suspicion and suspected, without proof, that Corlissandro was enabling forbidden magical arts to be practiced.

These men formed the core of a campaign to undermine Corlissandro’s credibility, circulating rumors that he was a radical fantasist trying to replace traditional Spanish naval doctrine, a danger to peace with France due to his provocations in the Caribbean, and possibly a heretic, given his partnership with shipboard arcanists and Dominican reformers like Fray Tomás de Santo Iago. By early 1688, their efforts bore fruit. Charles II, often unwell and influenced by shifting advisers, withdrew public support for Corlissandro’s reforms, and several proposals were tabled indefinitely.

Despite this rising opposition, Corlissandro found tentative allies among other reform-minded nobles and ecclesiastics, though most were cautious in their support. Juan Francisco de la Cerda, 9th Duke of Medinaceli, a veteran statesman and former First Minister, sympathized with Corlissandro’s disdain for court corruption but was politically sidelined by 1687. Melchor de Navarra, the former Viceroy of Peru, briefly advocated for Caribbean naval reform before retiring from court life. His correspondence with Corlissandro in late 1687 is preserved in fragments and suggests ideological alignment. Father Antonio de Solís, royal chronicler and playwright, considered Corlissandro a tragic hero and reportedly warned him of “poisoned laurels” as early as spring 1688. None of these allies, however, had the institutional power or resolve to shield Corlissandro once the Council of the Indies and commercial syndicates turned fully against him.

By mid-1688, false accusations were being compiled in secret, centered on misappropriation and embezzlement of funds, allowing forbidden arts such as demonology and necromancy to be practiced on ships, and secret communications with New World clergy framed as seditious and heresy. In January 1689, the accusations were formally presented to the court. Though the documentation was flawed and lacked supporting testimony, the case had political momentum. Corlissandro’s primary defender at court, Francisco Fernández de Angulo, had already been removed from the Consejo de Indias and relegated to advisory status.

The verdict was swift and politically calculated. Corlissandro was stripped of his admiralty, declared persona non grata in Cádiz, and exiled from political office. He was placed under threat of arrest if he returned to Madrid or set foot on a Spanish navy ship. Matías del Real y Ochoa, his trusted contador de navío, was arrested shortly after for refusing to doctor financial records, and his ledgers that proved Corlissandro’s innocence were seized.

Corlissandro returned to the coast near Huelva in disgrace, though he was not defeated. During the latter half of 1689, Corlissandro anonymously wrote numerous pamphlets, letters, and broadsheets under different pseudonyms. The works were circulated in Seville, Cádiz, and Madrid through sympathetic clergymen, disillusioned officers, and commercial guilds concerned with piracy and convoy safety. These documents, structured as urgent wake-up calls rather than revolutionary manifestos, combined military critique, moral indictment, and patriotic appeals. They lamented that the navy’s role as an instrument of divine order was being blasphemed by thieves and cowards, reported ships lost and the navy’s structural weaknesses that were to blame for them, named specific people in Madrid and Cádiz who “wear French silk while our sailors bleed,” and called upon officers, priests, and scribes to both record the truth and defy corrupt orders.

Examples of these works included El Mar se Rompe: Sobre la Decadencia del Mando Imperial (The Sea Is Breaking: On the Decline of Imperial Command), Contra los Corsarios y los Cosecheros de Oro (Against the Corsairs and the Harvesters of Gold), and Un Testigo de la Podredumbre (A Witness to the Rot). The works spread quickly among cadets, reformers, and honest quartermasters, but the overall impact was minimal since Corlissandro only had a period of a few months to write and circulate them. They did provoke increased paranoia among the partido francés and the Council of the Indies, resulting in a secret inquisition into the works. Corlissandro was suspected to be the author, but no proof was uncovered in the short time before he met his end.

Assassination and Resurrection

By early 1690, Spain’s political landscape had shifted dramatically. The French invasion of Catalonia, launched by Louis XIV in a calculated escalation of regional dominance, shattered any remaining illusions within the Spanish court that France could be trusted as an ally. Even moderate factions were forced to reckon with the reality that the partido francés, which had lobbied for peace, tolerated piracy, and obstructed naval reforms, had acted against Spain’s long-term interests.

Corlissandro, now in exile, had already begun preparing for a return, not as a mere officer but as a witness to treason. Over the course of 1689, he and his allies, especially Fray Tomás de Santo Iago and the now-deposed Francisco Fernández de Angulo, had quietly amassed documentation and testimonies implicating several members of the partido francés in a coordinated effort to divert convoy protections to favor smuggling routes used by French merchants and privateers, sabotage resupply orders and fleet readiness in Cádiz and Havana, suppress or reroute intelligence about pirate and French naval movements in the Caribbean, and delay or bury correspondence from colonial governors and military officers critical of French actions.

Among the documents were seized ledgers, intercepted letters, and coded dispatches that showed how Don Agustín de Figueroa, Don Manuel Joaquín Álvarez de Toledo, and others had prioritized personal profit and political alliance over Spanish security. Corlissandro planned to present this evidence not to the king directly but to an alliance of ecclesiastical reformers, naval loyalists, and foreign diplomats who were beginning to coalesce in response to the Catalonia crisis. It was a plan that could have unraveled the entire pro-French faction and changed the trajectory of the succession crisis, but he never lived to see it through.

Despite the shift in public sentiment, the same men he threatened were still in control of the court’s machinery. They understood that if Corlissandro resurfaced with documents, witnesses, and a network of sympathetic Dominican reformers, it would mean not only their political ruin but possible charges of treason or espionage. The decision was made to eliminate him before his return.

Having received word of an impending assassination plot through Angulo’s final coded dispatch, Corlissandro fled Spain under a false identity, sailing aboard a merchant vessel bound for Havana. His destination was Tortuga, where he and Fray Tomás had arranged a clandestine meeting to coordinate the exposure campaign. But as he prepared to re-enter the Caribbean under cover, Corlissandro was betrayed and murdered aboard ship by members of his own retinue.

His Escudero Personal, Leoncio Paredes de Tagle, was unwittingly used, tricked into administering a sedative in Corlissandro’s morning coffee by another officer whose loyalty had been purchased by Corlissandro’s enemies. A Spanish ship that was once believed to be friendly to Corlissandro approached the merchant vessel while it was in the Windward Passage. Its soldiers were allowed onboard without question, and the massacre began almost immediately. Corlissandro, in a drugged stupor, was rendered unable to fight, command, or talk his way out of his impending demise. His throat was slit, his loyalists were killed, and the bodies thrown overboard. The only survivors of the “attack” were those willing to swear under oath that the ship was attacked by pirates.

What happened next remains the domain of myth and miracle. As he sank into the dark water, choking on blood and brine, a presence stirred beneath the waves. Corlissandro was offered a second chance, a return to life with power sufficient to confront the enemies who had destroyed him. Believing it a diabolical pact and yet unwilling to die in silence, he accepted.

Corlissandro emerged resurrected and changed, bearing strange powers, haunted eyes, and a scar across his throat where the blade had cut deep. Among his new powers was the ability to breathe underwater and the discovery that he could swim with the same ease that he walked. Corlissandro was adrift in the current for several days, his existence oscillating between swimming along with the prevailing currents and the strange new existence of resting beneath the waves. Eventually he made landfall on the northwestern tip of Haiti near Cap du Mole St. Nicolas, and thus he returned to the Caribbean as a dead man washed up on French colonial soil. He had nothing to his name except his clothes and his prized rapier and main-gauche, which his assassins felt should be buried at sea with him to better sell the story that Corlissandro was grievously injured and fell overboard while fighting off pirates.

Corlissandro walked for about a week overland to Port-de-Paix, and from there he managed to barter passage on the ferry to Tortuga. He arrived on the island in early February of 1690, hoping to still find Fray Tomás de Santo Iago waiting for him. Unfortunately, Corlissandro would only find disappointment, as Tomás never showed up at the arranged meeting point. Corlissandro had made it there late, and whispered rumors of his death had beaten him to Tortuga.

His first days after that were spent recovering from starvation and exhaustion in a Dominican-run infirmary known as Saint Honorat’s Chapel, an old stone mission chapel built in the 1660s on the southern edge of Tortuga’s port quarter, slightly inland. He used fragments of a false identity provided by Fray Tomás de Santo Iago in case of emergency: “Captain Don Baltasar Ordóñez,” a merchant’s guard out of Havana. As his body recovered, Corlissandro earned his keep at Saint Honorat’s with hard work, but eventually his needs exceeded just having a meal to eat and a cot to sleep in. Corlissandro needed money.

By mid-February, Corlissandro was hired by a Provençal Huguenot master-shipwright named Mathurin Brousseau, who mistook Corlissandro’s bearing for that of a disgraced noble or engineer. Corlissandro worked under the guise of a quiet assistant, drawing schematics, supervising timber selection, and improving ballast distribution for several coastal runners and refitted sloops. Brousseau quickly realized Corlissandro had a deep, practical understanding of ships, but he neither pressed for details nor offered to pay more than the silver a day they had agreed upon. Corlissandro continued to stay at Saint Honorat’s, exchanging physical labor and a small tithe from the pay received from Brousseau in exchange for a room in the bell tower. The bell tower had been abandoned for years due to a collapsed stairway and damage from a skirmish in 1683, but it still had a dry loft room above the bells, accessible by a rope ladder.

Recruitment to the Night Wind

While living under a false identity in Port Cayonne, Tortuga, Corlissandro was recruited by Captain Scarlette Jane at The Raven tavern during an unnatural rainstorm in mid-April 1690. Despite their history of mutual combat and the obvious danger of the mission, Corlissandro’s maritime experience and tactical expertise made him valuable for the planned theft of Calypso’s Heart from Circe’s temple. Before accepting the position as quartermaster aboard the Night Wind, Corlissandro negotiated specific conditions for his service, insisting on no treason or piracy against Spain. The recruitment revealed much about the mission’s peril—Scarlette’s previous crew had been lost attempting the same objective, and she distributed magical sigils that bound crew members against violence toward each other or herself. The assembled crew included Sabine as bosun, the young warlock Alethea Argyros, the hardened crossbowman Gestra, the Irish brawler Ceiran, the devout deckhand David, and the youthful artillerist Chester. From the outset, Corlissandro expressed suspicion toward the mysterious first mate Percy, whose aloof and unsettling presence raised immediate concerns.

The Phantom Sea Voyage

The journey through the Phantom Sea tested every aspect of Corlissandro’s naval expertise and personal resolve. The unnatural realm, devoid of light and sound, created constant psychological strain on the crew that required careful management. Corlissandro immediately organized ship repairs and crew rotations, establishing systems that balanced the need for maintenance with the dangers of the cursed waters. He limited the number of crew on deck at any time to minimize exposure to the realm’s corrupting influence, working alongside the crew and showing respect for every role. His leadership philosophy was encapsulated in his observation that if a ship sinks, the sea does not ask who was captain or quartermaster—it drowns all the same.

On the second day of the voyage, the ship was rocked by unseen forces beneath the waves. Corlissandro helped coordinate the crew’s response to stabilize rigging and save the vessel from disaster. A massive bioluminescent sea serpent was observed swimming beneath the ship, though it initiated no conflict at that time. By the third day, psychological strain manifested in disturbing ways—Chester became enthralled by the Phantom Sea’s influence and attempted to sabotage the cannons before being stopped by Gestra. When Corlissandro himself fell under similar influence, Scarlette revealed a fearsome supernatural aspect to frighten him back to his senses, and he was restrained until the effect passed.

On April 24th, during a watch change, Corlissandro and Scarlette had a significant conversation that revealed the burdens they both carried as commanders. When Corlissandro commented on the “show” she had given at The Raven tavern, noting that losing an entire crew and recruiting strangers as a ghost ship suggested questionable captain skills, Scarlette’s response cut deep—she knew he had been “caught literally dead by his own crew,” revealing she possessed information about his assassination. After a tense moment, she admitted making a bad call and aimed to correct it. Corlissandro responded with understanding that only captains and commanders could truly share, noting that it happens to all of them eventually and that a commander full of bravado is either a fool or trying to fool others.

Their exchange took an uncomfortable turn when Corlissandro joked about “mom and dad fighting,” inadvertently raising the specter of Percy. Scarlette’s reaction was intense and absolute—she drove her finger into his chest repeatedly, declaring with complete sincerity that she had never and would never be in any such position with Percy, and that her equal would never be the likes of him. She demanded that if Corlissandro ever saw her with Percy in that kind of position, he should kill her quickly, as she would no longer be herself.

When Corlissandro asked who Percy was and why he served as first mate, Scarlette grabbed his shirt with iron grip and whispered that Percy was a “necessary devil”—without him, everything was lost. The fear in her voice was palpable as she pleaded that she would not lose all that she was, making a promise that held weight far heavier than ego or hubris. Corlissandro, uncertain if the Phantom Sea was affecting her or if darker powers were at work, placed his hands on her shoulders and simply said he believed her. He had trusted his life to her ability to survive before, and despite their complicated history, he chose to trust her again.

During his watch on the night of April 24th, tied to the mast as a safety precaution, Corlissandro experienced a profound encounter with the massive sea serpent. Despite the terrifying sight of its five-foot-diameter eye rising from the water to stare directly at him, he chose not to sound the alarm. Instead, he engaged with the creature, which communicated telepathically in Spanish and revealed itself as an ancient guardian predating Circe’s island. The serpent granted Corlissandro exactly three questions: why it cared about the island (it cared only for the sea), why it might stop them (because the sea owned it), and how they could pass safely (by not disturbing the waters). The encounter concluded with the serpent’s ominous warning that Corlissandro “should have asked my name,” establishing a conditional truce based on respecting the creature’s maritime domain.

On April 25th, the Night Wind came under attack from four aboleth creatures that attempted to destroy the vessel with acidic secretions and psychic assaults. Corlissandro demonstrated his combat versatility, using both his musket and rapier with devastating effect against the creatures, then summoning his Tentacle of the Deep spiritual weapon. Throughout the intense battle, he showcased tactical awareness and adaptability, repositioning his attacks to maximize effectiveness. During this engagement, his use of the Tentacle of the Deep drew questions from crew member Gestra despite Corlissandro’s attempt to be discreet.

Following the aboleth battle, Corlissandro raised concerns with Scarlette about Percy’s notable absence during the entire attack, questioning why the first mate failed to assist in defending the ship during such a critical moment. Scarlette replied that Percy was critical to the mission’s success upon reaching the island, to which Corlissandro retorted that they had to reach the island for Percy to be useful. Her cautionary response indicated there was a greater power involved that even she was wary of, prompting Corlissandro to agree to be more circumspect in his criticisms.

Between watches and repairs, Corlissandro found limited time for rest but maintained his habit of reciting prayers from the Breviary gifted to him by Father Lucien Mariveaux. His interactions with the crew remained professional and kind as he sought to educate them in seamanship, though he did not seek to know them personally, viewing this time as merely transient in his life story. During a quiet moment in the galley, he engaged in an extensive philosophical and theological discussion with Alethea about faith, slavery, and the nature of God and gods. He explained Catholic teachings on the treatment of servants and masters, including the prohibition against kidnapping people into slavery and the duty to give refuge to escaped slaves. The conversation revealed both his depth of religious conviction and his ability to discuss faith with those of different beliefs without judgment. In another conversation with Gestra, Corlissandro confirmed that he and Scarlette had exchanged more cannon and musket fire than words over the years, and that he knew precious little more about her than the crew did. When pressed about why he joined the voyage, he explained that Scarlette promised to help him with his own interests, and that he viewed the opportunity as either answering his Lord’s call or being an utter fool.

On April 26th, during the sixth day of travel and during a supernatural storm caused by a magical bell tower that created a massive whirlpool, Corlissandro took on the most dangerous task—rappelling down the side of the storm-lashed ship to reach the jammed rudder underwater. Using exceptional skill, he successfully cut away massive amounts of kelp blocking the rudder with his dagger, helping save the ship from destruction. This heroic action demonstrated his commitment to the crew’s survival and his willingness to risk his life for the mission.

After the storm, when the crew was sent below decks, Corlissandro lingered behind with Scarlette. He had initially planned to address her public mocking of crew member David’s faith, but something altered his intentions—he noticed that she looked worn compared to the woman he remembered from years past, with something having taken a greater toll than mere time. With concern rather than severity, he advised her that it was unwise to mock David’s faith if that was what kept him going forward in that place. Scarlette’s response revealed her frayed emotional state as her rage erupted and she punched the mast hard enough to break her hand.

Corlissandro, recognizing the signs of a broken hand from his battlefield experience, wrapped it with cloth from his belt, applying pressure to alleviate her pain and hide the mysterious runes on her hand. When he asked how long it had been since she slept, she revealed it had been five days—the entire duration in the Phantom Sea. As Scarlette tried to push him away with her injured hand, Corlissandro caught her from falling and stated firmly that they were crew now, and she had chosen that—she didn’t get buyer’s remorse until they were back on land. His voice carried the steel and certainty of an admiral as he questioned whether her plan was to work herself to death and leave them stranded.

The confrontation reached its peak when Scarlette confessed she didn’t want him to die, her voice turning cold and murderous as she insisted she would not die yet, not until she saved them. Her hand burned with sudden heat and she began to faint from exhaustion. Percy appeared without warning with exceptional stealth, offering to take Scarlette to her cabin. Corlissandro’s distrust of the first mate was palpable as he positioned himself between Percy and the unconscious captain. When Percy made a smug evaluation and cryptic comments, Corlissandro’s response was blunt—he feared leaving the captain to Percy because he struck him as a man who would take an unconscious woman back to her cabin just to pull her pants off. Percy’s façade cracked briefly before he recovered, cryptically stating that Corlissandro would be dead without him, then departing.

Corlissandro refused to carry the unconscious captain below decks where the crew might see her compromised, understanding that morale depended on maintaining the belief that the captain was near infallible. Instead, he moved her to a hidden spot, created a makeshift pillow and blanket from cloth and sail, then went to work finishing her tasks on the mast and conducting a methodical inspection of every critical part of the ship—old habits from his naval career that he sank into like a comfortable blanket. He held the watch until she woke up.

Circe’s Island and Temple

Upon reaching Circe’s Island, which appeared to materialize from nowhere after the storm cleared, Corlissandro participated in the challenging climb up the temple’s steep staircase. The exertion proved taxing for many crew members, and Corlissandro contributed to investigating the three sealed doors with magical wards at the temple entrance. His experience and tactical thinking aided the party in selecting the swan door based on historical and cultural analysis provided by Chester.

The Hall of Mirrors proved to be a psychological challenge. His malevolent reflection took the form of an admiral-like echo that mocked him for abandoning his naval career and faith, questioning his purpose and choices. Unlike some crew members who faced their reflections with emotional responses, Corlissandro employed tactical thinking—using beeswax earplugs to reduce the psychological impact and casting Protection from Good and Evil to shield himself from supernatural influence. During the trial, he declared his independence from titles and kings while maintaining his personal purpose, refusing to let the echo break his resolve through shame or regret. His ability to overcome the trial through disciplined mental fortitude earned him inspiration with a guaranteed hit without rolling—a reward that recognized his tactical approach to psychological warfare.

Upon entering Circe’s opulent throne room, Corlissandro witnessed an explosive confrontation that fully revealed Scarlette’s divine nature. Poseidon arrogantly demanded the return of his stolen eye while Scarlette pressed a gun to his throat, invoking their blood pact from Tortuga. When Poseidon broke her arm, Scarlette shot and stabbed the god before transforming into her terrifying voodoo form, gathering shadows and mist to battle his divine lightning. Circe proposed two paths for the seventh trial: kill the Minotaur for just Poseidon’s eye, or solve the labyrinth puzzle to also rescue Scarlette’s captured crew—the souls of those who had been transformed into pigs during the previous attempt. This revelation explained why Scarlette had been so desperate to succeed and willing to work herself to exhaustion.

For Corlissandro, the revelations were akin to a squall that had blown their ship off course, yet there were still a few facts that remained the same: they had to finish their mission, they had to escape the Phantom Sea, and Corlissandro despised Percy regardless of whether he was a mere mortal or a Grigori. As for everything else, those were problems for later.

Only one concern stood front and center before him, and it was the lad who had come ever so close to meeting his maker. Scarlette treated the situation with a stiff upper lip, and there was no fault in that—a captain who seemed to believe their men could fight on in the face of certain death could, in fact, make those men do that very thing. But Corlissandro worried for Chester’s morale. The crew had been dismissive of the boastful young man, and for good reason, but Corlissandro had watched the boy expertly repair the Night Wind under adverse conditions, fight off aboleths, and provide invaluable insight about Mayan iconography. The final clincher was watching him sit there, half frozen and near dead, crafting balls of thread to help them navigate the maze. It was a simple trick, but the boy was extremely clever in making it work under difficult conditions—and extremely dedicated to do it despite being the most in need of rest among them.

So Corlissandro walked up to Chester and draped his own coat over the boy, hoping to give him some much-needed warmth as he worked at the balls of thread. Corlissandro sat next to him, then began the task of helping Chester wrap the thread up into balls, saying nothing at first but merely working with Chester as an equal. Between shivers, Chester managed to say, “Th-thank you sir. This means a great—“ before he vomited violently on the floor and passed out. Corlissandro’s hands paused as the boy unceremoniously emptied his stomach, and his eyes casually moved over to see him. Chester was still upright, slumped against a wall he had been using as support, and still breathing. With that detail observed, Corlissandro shifted to the second priority, his gaze reaffirming the kid had not vomited on the most decent jacket he had found to wear the past week.

He waved away a couple of curious glances in their direction, not wanting to draw more attention to the boy’s plight. His eyes glanced around the room, considering what could be best used to clean up the mess Chester had made while being mindful not to invoke the wrath of a Greek goddess. He rose at last, fetching a carafe of water and some hand towels, hoping Circe would find some soiled linens less offensive than a pool of vomit on the floor. A few minutes turned into a passable job of removing the mess, with enough water left over for Corlissandro to wash his hands. He returned to his place next to Chester at last, and he returned to wrapping the balls of string up, idly thinking of practical uses for them: lead lines between a scout and the rest of the party to communicate silently, marking off passages, and placing string across unexplored thresholds to indicate if something else had crossed it while they were in a different area. And, every so often, he would reach over and check on Chester’s pulse and breathing, just to be sure.

The Minotaur’s Labyrinth

The party formed three teams to enter the deadly labyrinth, with Corlissandro leading Team Old Man alongside Chester and Alethea. The mission required collecting four artifacts from four rooms without alerting or killing the hunting Minotaur—a task that demanded the same tactical precision and disciplined execution that had defined Corlissandro’s naval career. Before venturing forward, he established a communication system using thread, giving one end to Alethea with specific instructions: three pulls meant “come to me,” while a slack rope meant “get the hell out of here.”

Corlissandro scouted ahead methodically, investigating dead ends and maintaining excellent stealth discipline. When the teams inadvertently converged in the maze, Scarlette performed an unexpected ritual, cutting deeply along her palm to create a blood magic communication totem. She handed the warm, semi-solid idol to Corlissandro with a simple explanation that it would allow them to talk later, demonstrating her commitment to tactical coordination. She also informed him that Ceiran had been added to his group, as she had determined he would be safer with them.

The labyrinth exploration grew increasingly tense as multiple noise incidents drew the attention of the ancient Minotaur guardian. When Chester knocked a torch off the wall with a loud clatter, followed shortly by David’s armor clanging loudly in the central chamber, the beast that had been hunting patiently for hundreds of years began actively pursuing the party. Corlissandro’s string trail system, meant as a safety measure, was discovered by the Minotaur and led it directly to Team Old Man’s location.

In the desperate flight that followed, Corlissandro felt the string suddenly pull taut with tremendous force as the Minotaur’s massive body rammed into it, giving him exact indication of where the beast was. He threw the ball of string down in a corner and shouted directions to his team, positioning himself to gesture them toward safety. Alethea’s familiar Hermes was destroyed by the Minotaur’s axe, severing her magical connection to the creature. Chester summoned his homunculus Grimsby as a distraction and cast Grease spells on corners behind the fleeing party, successfully causing the Minotaur to slip and fall prone. This tactical use of magic bought the party precious seconds to escape.

The combined teams fled through the narrow corridors with Corlissandro maintaining excellent stealth coordination, moving silently despite the chaos. When the Minotaur reached a fork with two parallel hallways and charged down the wrong passage, the party successfully evaded through a combination of clever tactics, lucky breaks, and genuinely impressive stealth work.

As the teams regrouped and continued searching for the remaining obelisks, Corlissandro discovered the final chalice bearing a purple, nebula-like obelisk. Remembering Alethea’s method, he pressed his blood to the thorn and unlocked the mechanism, accepting one level of exhaustion as the price. He immediately used Scarlette’s blood-doll communicator to announce he had found the fourth key, and she warned she couldn’t hold the Minotaur much longer, directing him to come straight through the hall she was blocking.

The teams converged at the choke point near the ballroom where Gestra inserted the obelisk keys into matching rune slots while a melee formed in the hall. Sabine landed a critical strike on the Minotaur to keep it away from Scarlette, and David used divine healing to stabilize the wounded captain. The corridor became stuffed with bodies and blade-edges as Chester calculated exit vectors and Alethea called for key handoffs, with Corlissandro passing her the third key so she could slot them while the fighters held the line.

With all four keys placed, the runes ignited and the monumental statue’s mouth opened, revealing Poseidon’s Eye on a velvet cushion. Alethea attempted to seize it but failed her save and took exhaustion, her hand passing through intangibly. Gestra then reached in and succeeded with exceptional fortitude, and at that instant the Minotaur vanished in a puff of smoke. Footsteps echoed as Poseidon and Circe arrived in the lock room, and Scarlette pushed forward to demand the Eye from Gestra.

Circe smiled and applauded, purring that no mortal had passed her labyrinth in 500 years. Poseidon was already reaching toward the Eye. Scarlette, never blinking, told Gestra to hand it to her. As she took the Eye, the obelisks guttered and died, the statue-mouth closed, and the binding magic receded. Poseidon turned from Gestra toward Scarlette and demanded the Eye. She presented it in one hand while drawing her athame in the other. She set the dagger’s point against Poseidon’s Eye and commanded: “Break it”—meaning Corlissandro’s pact. When Poseidon played coy, she pressed the blade until a metal-on-metal screech tore the air and Poseidon screamed, doubling over. She declared that a dying man choking on seawater cannot consent to a bargain freely, and if he valued such a soul, he could find it again without chains.

Corlissandro staggered through his own pain, then grabbed Poseidon by the collar and hissed that he had mistaken Poseidon for Lucifer, and now, knowing him, would rather have signed in Hell. He demanded his choice and declared there was no choice—better the pit than a leash to something so pitiful. Poseidon’s magic surged as he ground out: “Fine. It wasn’t worth much of a soul anyway.” Then the ripping began. Corlissandro buckled as something foundational tore out of him—even to a man who had died, it was the worst pain he had ever known. He cried out and fell to one knee, eventually glaring up at Poseidon to declare he never wanted the god to darken his door again, then turned and walked away.

Scarlette took the dagger away from the Eye and tossed the Eye beside Poseidon. He cleaned it and set it into his empty socket. The scarred socket healed instantly as black veins receded. His form unfurled into full godhood—growing taller and grander, crowned with gold, kelp, and pearls, his clothes becoming iridescent sea-silk exposing his perfect marble physique, his trident manifesting in his hand. He snarled, “I just don’t have to kill you, right?” and lunged to stab Corlissandro with the trident as he walked away.

Before the blow landed, a second voice rose with Scarlette’s as shadow, blood, and divine power exploded from her—another entity stepping from her body to interpose goddess-level darkness between Poseidon and Corlissandro. In two voices, the entity said: “If you want to strike someone, strike me.” Scarlette’s eyes turned white instead of black, and blood tears ran down her cheeks. Divine magic collided as Poseidon and the entity prepared to clash.

Suddenly, radiant light slammed down. An overwhelming divine force crushed everyone—including Scarlette and Poseidon—to their knees. Circe manifested fully, her hair flowing golden and divine, declaring: “This is still my house, and it will be respected.” She looked at Scarlette: “You accomplished your goal. Now it’s time for you to get out.”

Then everything fell away—the sensation like falling without ground, wind knocked from their lungs, hands that were on stone plunging into gritty sand. In a blink, the party was on the beach beside the Night Wind. Scarlette looked around, face smeared in blood, and screamed—a raw, shaking howl—as the reality hit. The severed pact left Corlissandro feeling hollowed out. Scarlette, face still smeared and exhausted, said nothing to Corlissandro as she ordered everyone back to the ship. Behind them, the temple brooded on the horizon and the gods receded into their own stony mysteries.

Journey to Cyprus

About twenty minutes underway from Circe’s island, six dazed sailors—survivors of the first voyage who had been cursed to swine—stumbled topside, and Scarlette greeted them with embraces and reassurances. As the ship cleared the coast, five massive chests appeared on deck, each crammed with treasure. Scarlette let the party divide spoils freely, and everyone received 5,000 gold along with spell scrolls and potions.

When the Night Wind was fully away, Scarlette stood atop a chest and properly introduced herself as Scarlette Jane—Red Jane—the Blood Pirate, the most feared and wanted pirate in the Caribbean. She admitted she had hired bodies and expected none to survive, but they proved her wrong. She offered open questions and a Cyprus port call to fence relics fairly, with clean parting for any who chose to go their own way.

On the fringes of the revel, David and Corlissandro found a small quiet to clink bottles and exchange truths. Corlissandro confessed he must pray and wondered if God would hear, and David replied He listens though He may not answer. The two toasted unexpected adventures and expressed mutual gratitude for each other’s company. They shared a gentle laugh over the whiskey’s bite compared to communion wine, then placed a lighthearted wager on which youngster would drop first—David laid 10 gold on the cannoneer while Corlissandro placed his on the witch—as the sounds of a party began to slur into farce.

Corlissandro limited himself to two glasses and remained topside for long minutes as reluctant chaperone, quietly confiscating guns from Chester whenever necessary, and only headed below once everyone was either tied, piled, or safely asleep so no one could fall overboard or light the deck on fire in celebration.

Dawn brought brutal hangovers and sobering work aboard ship. Corlissandro and Sabine, up early and already working, shared a clipped exchange about truth and trust. He asked whether Scarlette often sent Sabine on missions without explaining the objective, and Sabine answered no while admitting to lingering anger and her plan to ask Scarlette directly. They agreed to hope she had a good reason as they continued to set the ship to rights.

When Alethea returned topside, Corlissandro announced that drunkenness did not excuse the night’s watch and work they would all owe, and he kept the day running with the invisible authority of someone who once steered men through worse than a hangover. The rest of the day belonged to sobering up and steady work as the Night Wind held its course for Cyprus with all souls accounted for and the sea at last behaving like itself.