Black Wings of Fate
Summary: For every fiftieth human born into the world, there is one guardian born for them, their souls connected by a single gem. Others have gems and guardians they can't ever see or meet. But James Norrington was born with a black pearl in his hand and a guardian so opposite to him that they could never be.
For centuries, before humanity could even remember its roots, there were guardians. Most immediately associate guardians with angels but they are not the same.
Guardians came into existence when an angel and a human fell in love, this so called 'sin' produced a progeny and the first winged human was born. The gods looked down upon such a union but love was love and they could not fault either parent for this 'sin'. So instead, the gods created a special system to cope with this new creature whose essence resided between the heavens and the earth. More angels reproduced with humans and more of these guardians were born until there was precisely a guardian for every fiftieth human alive. The gods deemed this a good number, half of perfection to represent half of a soul, and then gifted each human with a gem to represent their very soul. There was not much meaning to the selection of which human got which gem. It was random at most.
But it was fact that every fiftieth human possessed the exact same gem, size, color, shape, as one guardian. That guardian was that human's sole protector, their souls bound for all eternity, destined to meet over and over again in each new life until they are both content to pass on into the afterlife and rest together eternally. These guardians were later named Curatrix and the name stuck for centuries more. The bond between a Curatrix and their charge, their Tutela - although that name didn't stick nearly as easily as a simple 'charge' - was eternal and unbreakable, binding them together so strongly that not even the gods that made those bonds could break them.
Yet humans can. Humans always can break something, no matter how strong or indestructible. Death could not separate two bound souls but humans can. For, you see, if either one of the two in the pair attack the other with a true desire to kill or, even worse, do kill them in one of their lives, the connection between them will break forever. They can reincarnate for all eternity and they will never be able to rebuild their original bond. Now, here comes the part where it is emphasized that humans can break a bond. Curatrix are part angel and that, no matter how many generations pass since that first coupling, conditions them to loving their human other half.
A Curatrix will be anything the human needs them to be, a friend, an enemy, a lover, a complete stranger, a helpful advisor, a sparing partner, a sibling, a cousin, a rival et cetera, et cetera. But it is up to the human to decide as what they will accept them. They may accept them in one life but not in the next and so on. A Curatrix can take rejection and their bond will survive. But if the above mentioned situation happens that a human tries to kill their Curatrix out of hatred, their gems will break and the Curatrix is left with the choice to move on into the afterlife whenever they wish. Death by itself will never harm a gem but betrayal like true hatred will surely break it.
One more thing each human and guardian are to eventually come into the possession of is a representation of their soul, a item completely to themselves and not involved in their bond with a guardian/human. This is highly symbolic, though, as it can be any item and the person will know it was that one because they will feel it resonating in their soul. It can be of varying sizes, unlike the gems which are all about as big as an adult's fingertip, and the bigger the item is, the stronger you are. This is mostly referring to Curatrix, as it applies to a magical, spiritual strength and only rare few humans still know anything of the magic arts. Curatrix are much more spiritually connected to the world than humans can ever be and the bigger their item is, the stronger they are, the steadier their powers are. The biggest recorded item in history is a common sword while the smallest can be a simple earring or even a plain old rock.
A Curatrix' strength is also additionally measured by the size of their wings. They all have wings of different colors and patterns but the size is what matters. The bigger their wings are, the stronger the guardian is. The biggest wing span recorded on a Curatrix - and people have been keeping records regarding guardians more painstakingly than for any amount of treasure - so far is an amazing ten feet. The smallest on an adult Curatrix is five feet five inches.
James Norrington, the six year old son of Admiral Lawrence Norrington, pirate hunter for his Majesty's Royal Navy, knows all of this because he had always been curious about his own gem, if you can call his black pearl as such. But in all the books that he's read in his three years of knowing how to read and in all the stories sailors, particularly one Joshamee Gibbs, told him about the mystical bond of Curatrix and Tutela, never has he heard or read about a guardian like the one sitting in front of him. It was a boy about twice his age, somewhere around twelve. The marines said he was a pirate but he seemed to young to be like the scary, cruel pirates his father told him about. He had been brought in with James' older cousin, Flitzwiliam P Dalton III just yesterday, meant to be used as bait for some other pirate James' father wanted to arrest and hang once and for all because he was a bad man. The boy had been sent straight to the brig, bound, gagged and chained and he had been here ever since.
James wasn't supposed to be here, no one was, as Curatrix were said to possess a charming ability to coax friendliness out of humans and this boy pirate seemed to have it in spades, according to Fitzwiliam. But something in the very deepest depths of young Norrington's soul had tugged him in this direction and, curious about a type of people he had only read or heard about, James hadn't resisted. When he got down here, the boy had managed to free himself, confirming what others said about him being a pirate and was busy prowling his cell like an agitated tiger James once saw in those gypsy circuses. James had stared at the beautiful wings protruding from his back, unbothered by the clothing there, as although they were solid to the touch and allowed actual flight, they were still only astral extensions of a guardian's soul. He had never heard of so colorful wings. They reminded him of a sparrow's wings with their pattern, snow white on dark brown with golden spots and only the faintest of outlines in black on some feather spines.
And they were huge on the boy that was barely a head taller than James. They were already about six feet! On a child! James tried to imagine how big his wings will one day become, if he lived, and wondered if they will reach the record of ten feet. The ruffled and fluffed themselves as he muttered darkly under his breath, half formed escape plans being considered and discarded faster than James could count to five. It took him a while to notice the younger Norrington but when he had, he had stopped pacing and just stared, startlingly black eyes on childish green.
They had both felt the tug in their souls and their mouths framed an 'Oh,' before they both took out their gems. Two matching black pearls, the only two 'gems' in the world that weren't actual gems, weren't crystals, weren't made of sediments but by an organic creature and of an organic matter. They had both thought themselves oddities and freaks but here there was someone with a matching black pearl. The other half of their soul.
They had both kind of just ... sat down, observing each other. Black eyes had taken in James' short black hair, curling around his youthful face, his green eyes, his pale skin, his tall and lanky frame for so young a boy and his fine clothing. James' green eyes in turn had taken in the pirate boy's slighter frame for all that he was already a sailor, his dark brown almost black, wild hair, the red bandanna holding it back from his tanned face, his worn clothing, his calloused hands and his impossibly black eyes. And his wings. James was fascinated by the now preening wings and his companion, Jack E. Teague as he had introduced himself, seemed to be enjoying his attention.
James was just young enough to not care that his Curatrix might as well be a pirate and was just overjoyed to have met him. He knew not all Curatrix find their Tutela, despite being connected by a strong bond. Besides ... They had talked. Jack wasn't any more fond of pirates than James was. He had even ran away from home because he had been surrounded by pirates, born into a pirate family in some cave or something. James had been more fascinated by how his wings were as animated as his fluttering hands as he talked. If Curatrix charmed, then James was definitely charmed, although not by any of Jack's Curatrix magic charms but by Jack himself.
Neither boy knew how long they had been like that, sitting in front of each other, marveling at the other's existence, their little black pearl's never leaving their hands, occasionally talking about their lives, families and everything in between. They were both surprisingly lonely and in a very similar position, as both their father's were men of power in their field and so their sons had to be protected but neither were coddled. When Jack had been James age, he had already been sent out to sail all four sides of the world with other pirates that were apparently some type of lords - Jack didn't bother to explain and James hadn't even bothered to ask, more interested in his Curatrix than some random pirates - and he now had more experience sailing than probably any marine on James' father's ship. He had even been captain, until recently, and had also been Fitzwiliam's friend. James apologized on his cousin's behalf for the betrayal he had dealt the guardian but Jack insisted it was not he who should be apologizing and that he didn't expect an apology in the first place.
"If anything, I should probably apologize to you." Jack had insisted and hadn't elaborated. James had pouted and they had been silent since. The young Norrington didn't want to be at odds with his guardian but he was still not pleased that his guardian would not tell him something that might end up being important.
But all of that was forgotten when the first cannonball hit the ship. Jack took hold of James wrist and flung him away just as another crashed through the hull, barely missing the younger boy, the debris nicking Jack's skin instead. The terrified six year old stared at the thin trickle of blood on his guardian's face even as more volleys attacked the ship, the marines overhead shouting and returning fire. His father's voice pierced the air like thunder but that wasn't enough to shake James out of it.
One Joshamee Gibbs was, however, as he ran into the brig, picking tools in hand and froze at the sight of the Admiral's son staring at the pirate boy. Remembering the boy's curiosity about guardians, Gibbs shook off his shock and instead knelt down beside the boy's cell and started picking at the lock. "Yer father's mighty unhappy, young sir."
"I can hear that fine on my own, mister." Jack commented almost dryly but he was watching Gibbs with a tilted head like a bird. Gibbs will deny it to his last dying breath but the intensity in the child's eyes left him unsettled. The size of his magnificent wings wasn't helping any. It was bad luck to trap a Curatrix. "I know you."
"Aye, you do, young sir."
"Get him somewhere safe." Jack said as he recognized where he remembered the man from and knew he could trust him. James realized that they were both looking at him and shakily got to his feet. He barely had his sea legs, as this was his first journey with his father out on open waters, his mother having died recently and there being no one to look after him back in Britain, so the jerking of the ship due to fire and return fire was not helping at all in keeping him upright. "He'll just get hurt."
"I can fight!" The young Norrington insisted. He could! His father had started teaching him sword fighting already and said he was proud that his son seemed so talented in the art.
"Not against the Keeper's men you can't." The Curatrix insisted, beckoning him over to the side of the door while Gibbs worked, trying not to be too obvious that he was interested in what the two boys were doing. James came over and was surprised to be tugged against the bars, his forehead pressed against Jack's, black eyes too close, leaving him almost dazed. "You're my Tutela. I have to protect you. That up there are the most capable pirates in all the world and my father is like me. I'm all he has left and he won't let Norrington have me. It's too dangerous."
"You're leaving?" That was all the younger boy could focus on. It wasn't fair! He had just met his guardian! He didn't want Jack to leave!
"Hey, don't be upset! We're soulmates, you and I, I and you, us." Jack gestured between them with a little grin, although he himself wasn't pleased he would have to leave his charge behind. "We'll meet again one day, I wager, when we're both older and can sail the sea on our own, savvy?"
"Promise?" James knew it was childish but he wanted Jack to promise him, even if it was to end up being nothing more than a lie. But it won't hurt anyone if Jack were to make that promise.
The Curatrix took his hand and intertwined their index fingers, making a childish but serious promise to a serious child. "On my gem and my item and my very soul, I swear that we will meet again." No greater vow could be made by a Curatrix and James accepted it with a nod of his head. Just then, Gibbs finished with the lock and the door opened. Jack sprinted out, wings folding themselves back into his back, disappearing from sight as he ran up on the deck. James reached for him desperately, instinct kicking in but Jack was out of his sight before he could even lift his arm. But James was out of Gibbs' sight before the sailor could stop him, running after his guardian into the battle going on.
Up on the main deck, though, it was chaos. James had never seen so terrifying a sight. There were pirate everywhere, dead and dying and alive and fighting and plundering. There were marines, too, in red and in blue jackets, in no jackets at all, bleeding and dying and fighting and killing and it was all so scary for a mere six year old that James started trembling where he had frozen. He saw his father dueling a pirate in an elaborate red coat who bore a great resemblance to his guardian. The pirate must have been captain and Jack's father, for he was furious but not nearly as James' father. He was one hell of a fighter, though, as he was easily controlling the pace, no matter how much Lawrence tried to outdo him. It might have the blinding rage in his father that gave the other the edge. His father looked like a man possessed, lunging and swinging in a way he always told James never to do. The pirate was nimble, though, and James wondered if he really was a guardian if he was really Jack's father. He had heard guardians can anticipate some things, like a sixth sense of the world around them, not counting the spiritual senses they had that humans could only sell their soul for. But that was supposed to only be possible for a guardian's charge, if James had heard right.
"Give it up, Teague! You're pirating days are over! I'll hang you from your own yardarm!" Lawrence yelled at Teague, making one more lunge, this one true and unavoidable for humans as it would send the pirate overboard into the by now shark infested waters as more and more blood fell into the sea. But to James' amazement, Teague leaped into the air and spread red-gold-black nine feet three inches long wings, their pattern seemingly random as he hovered over Lawrence before landing on the other side of the ship. How odd. It was as though he was avoiding a fight with him. But why would a pirate pass up the opportunity to get rid of a pirate hunter like James' father.
"You couldn't catch when I was unwilling to fight you, what makes you think you'll get me now?"
"I have your son!" Teague snook a glance at where said son was fighting Fitzwiliam and James was almost distracted by his Curatrix's movements as he fought his cousin in some strange style that didn't resemble fencing almost at all that he almost didn't hear his father's next words. "Give it up! Your nature as my Curatrix prevents you from causing me harm!"
"You severed that bond long ago!" Teague replied, parrying another attack to his person just as Jack blocked Fitzwiliam's lunge. But James could only gap at what he heard. Why would his father severe something as wondrous as a bond to his Curatrix?
"Because you chose her over me!" The older Norrington screamed, startling the two dueling boys still in their locked swords, eyes wide as they stared at the two men. James was fairly gapping by now. The pirates didn't stop fighting, though. The cannons were still firing. "You chose her over your own Tutela!"
"You broke our bond long before I married Thailicia!" Thundered the man in the red coat. "You have no right to blame this on me! I tried to make you reconsider! You broke our bond, Norrington and now you dare try to take my son, that which is most precious to my heart!? I won't let you!" His father could barely keep up after that, Teague a blur of red rage, using wings to stop anyone from interfering in their fight, although from James' point of view, it still looked like he was shielding his father if anyone got too close. Even after that betrayal, a Curatrix was loyal to their Tutela? James swore, right then and there, that he will never betray Jack, that he will never break their bond. He knew very little of the boy that was his guardian but they had a promise to meet again. They'll get to know each other then.
A pirate was making his way towards James and Mr Gibbs, who had just caught up, was too late to call out a warning when the big man swatted him out of the way and straight through the hole in the railing where a cannonball had blown it away. He flew straight overboard and the last thing he heard before he hit the water was Jack calling out his name. The sea was cold this far out in the Atlantic, closer to Europe than either America or Africa where it was warmer and the shock the six year old's body went through was enough to make him automatically panic. He started kicking desperately, trying to reach the surface, but the debris in the water was in the way. What's worse, the rope of the blown up forestay sail had managed to somehow wrap around his ankle and was dragging him down. James could not kick it off and so he curled up in order to try and free himself, but that only made him sink faster. He nearly lost his breath in his panic until scrawny arms and beautiful, familiar wings wrapped around him.
Jack, who had jumped in after him, was trying to drag him to the surface, feet and wings fighting the drag of the wet sail. But Jack was not yet strong enough to counter a sail, no matter how big his wings were for his age. They were running out of time. The edges of James eyes were turning black and he just clung to his Curatrix, wishing more than anything else that they had had more time. There was a splash up above them and a shadow obscuring the sun but the six year old couldn't care less. He was in his guardian's arms and, even if they were sinking, he was content. There was a twin to his black pearl. He wasn't alone. He had met the other half of his soul.
James wasn't sure but he thought he saw a strange shipwreck beneath them, rising, before it was obscured by big red wings and it all went black.