Alan was placed in a separate cell from the rest of Agon's crew. He cuddled in a corner and there he stayed, motionless. Being locked up in that tiny cell had given him more than enough time to think. He spent most of his time listening though. He listened to the other prisoners talk amongst each other and gathering every bit of information about the world he had been put in. He learned it was called: Altia ruled by a King and Queen, kind of like the old days. Maybe he was trapped in the past? Maybe he somehow had traveled back in time? Who knows. He also learned that the ship he was on was called the Queen's Judgement, captained by a pirate named Mar, a powerful man feared by all pirates, especially Agon's crew.
"You," One of the pirates, an ugly man with short hair, said, pointing at Alan. "This is all your fault."
"Leave the kid alone, Fern." Another pirate said. "Agon was the one who betrayed us."
"Tsk. We should've let the kid drown."
Just then, the hatch to the bilge opened and a man came down. He walked to Alan's cell. "Come with me." The pirate said, pulling out the keys from his pocket and opening the cell. Having no other choice, Alan stood and extended his arms, just like the others had done when they took them for the interrogations. From what Alan could gather, they were trying to figure out who had sent Agon to kill Mar. They were trying to learn the identity of the so called: Master.
The pirate led Alan through the lower deck, up to the main deck, and into a room. Inside that room, sitting in a chair, was a bald and strong-looking man, talking to a fellow crew-mate, a short man with long dark hair. The pirate pushed Alan to the center of the room and took his spot beside the bald man to his left, who was already studying Alan, scrutinizing him.
"Quartermaster, is he the one?" The short, long haired man, asked.
"Aye," The Quartermaster said, then to Alan he said; "You are neither part of Agon's crew, nor a pirate. What's your name, boy?"
"And how did you end up on Agon's ship?"
"I don't know." Alan shrugged. And that was the honest truth.
"You don't know?" Repeated the Quartermaster, looking at Alan questionably. Then he asked: "Where do you come from, Alan?"
Alan thought about that question for a second. He had heard enough stories from the prisoners down below to decipher the fact that he wasn't on Earth anymore. Or if he was, then it must be in another world or in the past. Either way, answering the Quartermaster's question with the truth would mean nothing. So, he lied instead and replied: "Altia."
The Quartermaster, along with the other two pirates behind him, burst into laughter. "Of course you're from Altia." He said. "We all are. I'm asking what place? What city? town? village?"
Alan could only shrug.
The Quartermaster stood from his chair and approached Alan, towering above the boy and leering down upon him. Alan met his gaze, looking into those intimidating eyes, trying his best not to shy away from them. What was the point? He thought. If he was going to die, it won't be like a coward. He had accepted his fate already. Whatever it was and wherever it was.
The Quartermaster looked over his shoulder and addressed one of pirates behind him, the same one who had brought Alan in. "Take the boy back. Then go and tell the captain. I'll be needing to interrogate the crew a second time. There be few more things I'd like to figure out before we turn them in to the Palace."
The pirated nodded. He grabbed Alan by the arm tightly, strongly, and pulled him out of the room and back to the lower deck. Back into the prison. Then he untied Alan's hands and pushed him into his cell, locking the gates afterwards. "Altia huh?" The pirate mocked. "Little brat." He kept on laughing even as he walked up the stairs and close the hatch door behind him.
Alan closed his eyes and took a deep breath...then exhaled. Relax. He had to do something. Anything. He went back to his corner and thought about the situation he was in. There was no way out of it, he knew, but he had to do something. Anything.