Hey guys! New story, yes I know. But hey, if I didn't get this written out, the other stories would be halted until I did O.o
My apologies :)
***Important! One of our protagonists is fifteen, another is twelve, and yet another is thirteen.
Warnings: Pirates. Fighting. True Love. False Love. Some Hate. Revenge. A Lord And His Men. The Royal Navy. Good Guys. Bad Guys. More Pirates. Buried Treasure. Unburied Treasure. Marooning. Fencing. A Little Blood. Magic. Fire. Skulls. Alcohol. Ice Cream. Ships. Guns. Excitement. A Few Accidents. Wenches. Taverns. Good and Evil. Loyalty. Friendship. Traitors. Secrets. Escapes. Secret Escapes. Hidden Things. Obvious Things. Death. Maybe a little torture. Secret Identities. Fake Identities. Sadness. Happiness. Anger. Pain. Heartbreak. Love Again. No sex. Cannons. Epic Battles. Heroic Sacrifices (?). Possible Sporadic Updates. A continuation of a story never before told! This was UN-BETA-ED.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything :P And yes, I've been reading William Goldman's The Princess Bride :D Great book!
Some inspiration by Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean and Hino Matsuri's WANTED. Would anybody actually sue someone on FANFICTION? No, really.
SHOUTOUT! To Hope Eternal: was it worth the wait? :D Hope you enjoy!
That goes for the rest of you as well~!
Boom.
Boom.
The distant ring of the long nines echoed over the rippling sea and throughout the warm summer night, but to the many people in Fort St. Ansem , they were mistaken for the sounds of the numerous, colourful fireworks bursting into stars in the dark skies above. It was the Lord Xehanort's thirty-first birthday, and, to celebrate, he and his loyal subjects and followers had gone to Devil's Bay, a large lagoon with an island just off the coast, to throw a grand party. Nearly everyone from the area was invited, as well as a few guests from abroad, and there were several musicians, magicians, dancers, storytellers, and merchants from all around the allied countries to contribute to the festivity.
A little ways apart from the main festivities on the beach and island, a group of luxuriously-dressed people gathered in the largest courtyard in the fort. They were all a part of the Inner Sanctum: a tightly-knit circle of the Gentry and the nobles favoured by and closest to the Lord. Of the thirty-something men and women gathered there, only one small boy hid in the crowd. He had long, messy bangs hiding one eye, and clung closely to his tall guardian on his left. Shorter than all the rest, but one of the closest people to the Lord, he took great care to not be crushed by the thoughtless fancymen, and watched with bored eyes the scene before him. He silently observed one of the officers (he knew that man, but for the moment, his name escaped him) leave the table and watched his retreating back. The man was back around ten minutes later, with two unknown children in tow.
The two strange guests the boy saw accompanied the approaching Lord to the dinner table; one, a tall boy of about sixteen with striking red hair styled into unique spikes and burnt hands, and the other, a pale young girl, a few years younger than her friend, with short dark hair and bangs hiding her eyes. Both were orphans, street-rats as well, but their talents were rare and truly mesmerizing to witness. They were found by one of the Lord's loyalists, a tall man in uniform with slicked back dark hair and a tattered red scarf, outside the fort, trying to con their way in; he had gone to talk to the two guards there (both muscled men in uniforms) and saw them attempting to slip in. He invited them to the courtyard after seeing their gifts, and told them to wait, not talk until talked to, and present their abilities to the Lord for his and his guests' entertainment when the time was right. They gripped each other's hands tightly, awed and frightened by the sudden invitation to the Lord's Court, and looked around the brightly lit square. The two looked quite out of place, with their clothes clashing with those of the Gentry's and the aristocracy's. While the boy wore a sleeveless, faded orange vest with an off-white canvas shirt underneath and tan, baggy trousers belted with thin rope, and the girl wore a simple, black funeral dress (both were barefoot), the Gentry and aristocracy wore elaborate outfits with frills, lace, rich vibrant colours, and expensive fabrics. The boy traced patterns in the dust on the cobblestone floor with his dirty toes nervously, feeling awkward and uncomfortable, and the girl fidgeted restlessly beside him, when suddenly the Lord snapped his fingers at the two standing behind him and a little to his left and began talking to them.
"You. Boy. What is your name?" he asked in a deep, authoritative voice. The boy looked up abruptly at the Lord, then, remembering that looking into a Superior's eyes was forbidden, looked down again and released the girl's hand. He alternated between staring at the Lord's clothes and the cobblestone ground as he answered. Lord Xehanort was wearing a smart navy blue jacket with golden buttons, paired with black breeches, pearl-white stockings, and silver-buckled shoes, as well as wearing several rings on his fingers, nothing more elaborate than a metal band with either a jewel or words engraved into it. His throat and cuffs were frothing with cream-coloured silk, and his hair was silver-grey, despite his age being only being thirty-one. The cobblestone ground was lightly dusted with a layer of dirt and sand, with small grasses sprouting up between the stones. He watched a small pink worm crawl between the cracks, and contemplated picking it up, but remembered the company he was in.
"Lea… sir," he said clearly, sounding and looking more confident than he felt. The Gentry murmured amongst themselves for a moment at the strange boy's unfamiliar accent, before the Lord raised his hand for silence.
"What is your talent, Lea?" He didn't quite speak slowly, but one could tell that each word was chosen carefully before spoken out loud. Lea shuffled his feet a bit.
"I'm a Fire Magician, sir." Several ladies ooh-ed at this statement, but the men looked skeptical. True Fire Magicians were usually over their thirties, if they started young. One of the men, dressed in a fine, oyster-silk suit, called out a challenge.
"How do we know he's a true Fire Magician? He could be using fake trickery to deceive us."
Lea grinned widely, and snapped his fingers to conjure a small ball on flame in his hand, and bowed deeply. The flame flickered and danced in his palm, illuminating the rough, burnt skin, and morphed into several fluid shapes as the boy spoke.
"Sir, I'd like to demonstrate that I am, in fact, a true Fire Magician, by performing a special show for the Lord." He bowed once more to the Superior, who nodded, leaning his face on his hand, and motioning for him to continue. Lea snapped his other hand and a twin fireball appeared. He began juggling the two flames, when suddenly more appeared, each time the ball passed through his hands.
After a few minutes, roughly fifteen fireballs were being juggled high into the air in a fiery arc. The nobles watched in fascination as the young boy clapped his hands and caught all of the flames in one hand. Once he did so, he merged them and created one fireball, which then slowly changed colours from orange and yellow, to red, purple, and then, finally, blue.
The blond aristocrat who had spoken out earlier stared at the blue flame in amazement; convinced that the boy was truly a Fire Magician, young though he was.
Lea then began splitting the blue flames once again, this time into five different balls, and made them circle his body in fast orbits, each one flashing and glimmering brightly as they weaved around and between his arms, neck, middle, and feet. He began dancing as well, all the while juggling the fire around him, taking care not to burn himself or his outfit, so that after a while, it looked like he was faintly glowing. This received great applause from the audience, with the exception of the Lord, who merely watched, never moving, though with a faint look of amusement on his face. The clapping paused with a hand motion from the Lord as the redhead continued his performance.
To finish his show, Lea slowed the flames greatly, defying inertia and making them drift lazily through the air, before he tossed them up into the air simultaneously, where the hovered in the sky for a second before bursting into miniature, multicoloured sparklers.
The applause resumed, possibly louder, as tiny sparks floated down from the sky and vanished just before landing on the nobles' faces, leaving behind the warm, sweet scent of cinnamon and a tinge of gunpowder.
Xehanort's expression of amusement remained, though now his lips were twitching into something akin to a smirk.
"You have true talent, little one. You have my compliments." Lea beamed and bowed once again as the Lord motioned for him to come closer, and ordered a uniformed man with a red scarf to bring another chair. The magician recognized him as the man who let them in, but said nothing. Lord Xehanort motioned for him to sit down in the chair next to him (he slid in nimbly: the corner of the table was aimed at his stomach, and he didn't want to poke himself against it), and looked at him carefully. "What of your friend?" he asked, his voice low enough that only the closest Gentry could hear; it carried a slightly mocking air, as if challenging her to be better. "What is her talent?"
Lea glanced at his companion, who still stood a little ways apart from the throne, and felt guilty for temporarily forgetting about her in all the excitement.
"Er…" His eyes widened as she began walking towards the Lord, and reached her hand out to tug on his navy sleeve. He shook his head frantically, and she paused.
Xehanort turned to look at the girl, and she curtsied clumsily under his golden-eyed gaze.
"Er… This is my friend, Xion, sir. She's a—"
"A singer, my Lord," finished the curtsying girl in a clear, sweet voice. She straightened up and folded her hands in front of her. "Is there anything in particular you wish to hear sung?"
Lord Xehanort raised a thin eyebrow at her words.
"Your manners need assistance, young one, but for now, why don't you sing to us one of your favourite songs?" Xion blushed at the reprimand, but made no other acknowledgement of his remark, except perhaps standing just a little bit straighter. She drew in a deep breath, and began to sing one of the hardest songs she knew, full of highs and lows and quick verses, just to show off to the Lord and amend for her prior mistake.
Her melodious voice flowed through the air like a current in the sea, and shocked the Gentry into silence. The red-scarfed man stood silently behind Lea's seat, to the right of Xehanort, and remained as stoic and, to all outer appearances, unmoved, as his Superior. Lea snatched a glance at the Lord and quietly gasped as he saw that the smirk on his face had not vanished, and he was still regarding the table and the girl with faint amusement. Lea shook his head, promising himself that before the night ended, she'd have the Lord awed by her songs, and returned his attention to his friend.
Her clear voice was like crisp wine, and through her song, she cast a spell of beauty and dreams in the minds of the nobles. They could clearly imagine the scenes the outlandish girl was singing of, and the green fields and blue skies; they felt the heartbreak of the woman in the song as her knight fell to the dragon, and felt the surge of happiness and warm feeling of hope at the end of the song as the girl sang of happier times ahead.
When at last the song ended, more than a few of the aristocrats had sparkling eyes, wet from unshed tears. The Gentry seemed moved as well, but none had tear streaks on their faces.
The roar of applause was just as great for Xion as it was for Lea, and many of the Lord's guests cried for another song. She inelegantly curtsied again, tripping over her own feet but catching herself before she fell, and earned the laughter of the listeners. She smiled nervously and began singing again; this time a lively dance song, and presently she had the whole group clapping along to her song as she danced. She smiled through her melody as she saw even Xehanort clapping, though half-heartedly. The man behind him with the red scarf winked at her as he clapped along to the beat, as did Lea, though he was smiling at her and mouthing words of encouragement. A warm feeling awakened in the black-clad girl, and she continued her song, laughing and smiling as well.
Three songs later, the appetizers had gone and dinner had been served, and Xion's throat was parched from singing so much. Lord Xehanort lifted the silver cloche cover off of his plate to reveal a crimson lobster with white meat spilling out and a salad on the side, and regarded it with a muted expression of approval. As the man with the red scarf poured wine into his goblet, the Lord placed the cloche back on his plate.
"Xion… You must be tired," he said. "You may sit next to Lea and have some dinner, if you wish." Xion smiled weakly and stumbled over to the seat Lea had drawn up for her. She sat down gratefully, and sipped some water the red-scarfed man offered her.
"Thank you," she said, albeit a little hoarsely. The man in uniform grinned, and asked her if she was alright. Xion nodded shyly, but the man let out a soft bark of laughter.
"Ha! As if! You need to rest: there's no way you'll be fine after singing five songs with no water. Don't take the wine. You'll irritate your throat," he added with a warning look; "and then Xehanort won't be able to hear your bell-like voice anymore." Xion turned faintly pink at the compliment, and looked down.
"I won't drink the wine, sir," she said. Lea looked at his friend and opened his mouth to say something, but the man cut him off (by complete accident, of course: standing behind him, he had no idea that the boy was about to speak to his friend).
"It ain't sir, miss," he said with a wink. "It's Braig. And I recommend the dessert especially. You'd like it, I would think. Creamy and sweet: the Lord's ordered ice cream for his birthday."
Lea completely forgot what he was about to say and turned his head to look at Braig with wide eyes. He had only ever heard of ice cream, but had never seen or tasted it. It was a legendary treat, for only the rich, and he and Xion had given up ever trying to (pardon the pun) sweet-talk a taste out of a vendor long ago.
"I-ice cream?" Braig shut his mouth with a knowing look.
"Shh. Don't ruin the surprise." He grinned and walked away, vanishing behind a stone wall of the fort, leaving the two children stunned. Fortunately, Lord Xehanort was deep in the middle of a conversation with the blond man who spoke out earlier, and had not heard a word (nor cared to know) of what Braig had said to the two.
Lea and Xion looked at each other with wide eyes, before silently mouthing, "Yes!" and excitedly clapping their hands together (as this was before high-fives were invented).
"We're gonna taste ice cream, Xion!" breathed the redhead excitedly in a hushed whisper.
"I can't wait!" They giggled silently to themselves, but immediately straightened up and looked respectable once they realized that Xehanort's conversation with the blond man was ending. It wouldn't do for his newest guests to make a spectacle of themselves, at the dinner table no less; besides, being thrown out would be incredibly dishonourable and humiliating, so the two children minded themselves and behaved well into the night.
A small bell rang as the signal for dinner was given, and the other nobles began opening their silver cloche covers and piercing the lobster meat inside with gold utensils. Lea looked at all of the forks, spoons, and knives with discomfort and awkward unfamiliarity. There were so many, and he didn't know which one was to be used for what. He glanced at Xion and copied her movements; after all, she used to work as a maid in a governor's household, before the accident.
Soon, lively chatter from the Gentry filled the air as the loyalists conversed with one another, and their Lord. Lea listened to what snippets he could: their way of speech was different from his own, and they used unfamiliar words as well. But with one thing and another as he attempted to learn some of their speaking habits, three more (short) courses passed, and soon it was time for dessert. As waiters and servants began bringing tiny, ornate gold bowls and cups on their steel trays, Xion and Lea fidgeted with concealed excitement. They grinned at each other, and quietly thanked the men who placed the rare dessert onto the table before them.
Lord Xehanort picked up a dainty gilded spoon and elegantly scooped up a bite of the iced cream. As soon as he placed the utensil in his mouth, his lips quirked upwards and everyone took the cue as a signal to begin eating.
Lea and Xion scooped their iced cream dessert with their spoons and placed it into their mouths simultaneously: friends didn't let friends try ice-cream for the first time by themselves. Sharing was what made it special.
At first taste, the flavour was soft and delicate, like a feather; but then it became sweet, bolder, with a rich aftertaste. The fruit on the side had also been chilled, and thus their flavours had not yet mixed with the frozen cream's, and the children relished it.
As Xion ate her dessert slow enough to savour it, but not so slow as to let it all melt, her eyes wandered from time to time to the pleasantly chatting group to her right. The lacquered table was long, but she could see the end.
She also saw the only other child present: one with pale skin, though darker than hers, and slate-coloured hair. His visible eye was downcast (she could only see half of his face) as he concentrated on eating his sweet treat.
She wondered why he would focus on his iced cream, just like her. He was obviously one of the Gentry: he had a gold ring on his left hand (his pale fingers clutched the spoon elegantly, she noted with slight shyness), so why would he pay such attention? Surely he would have tasted something so sweet and rich and delicious and...
I'm rambling again, she giggled to herself. She glanced down, and, to her comical horror, noticed her treat melting on the edges and quickly scooped up the cream and ate it, smiling at the taste.
I wonder who that boy is? ...No. I shouldn't pay any attention to him. He's a Gentry, I'm a peasant singer. It wouldn't work out. Besides, I have Lea.
The young singer glanced over at her red-haired friend, who was talking and laughing with Braig (who had returned at some point; he stood between him and the next noble over) and sighed softly. She was so fond of him...
But the delectable dessert demanded her attention first, and she was determined not to let it melt before entering her mouth.
Lea laughed as he watched his friend eat the dessert with a clumsy air of feigned elegance.
It was sweet.
Moments later, the bell for eleven o'clock rang, and Xehanort finished his dessert. His ice-cream was larger than the others' (for obvious reasons), but not by too much. He also had gold leaf and exotic fruits on his, and a few drops of the dried juices shone on his lip, before they were quickly licked up by his tongue and wiped off by his napkin.
The young Lord clapped his hands thrice, signaling the end of the dinner. Immediately, movement ceased as everyone placed down their spoons, and waited for his speech.
Everyone except Xion and Lea stood up as Xehanort did: the two children realized a few seconds late that they had to as well, and stood up. Xion's eye roamed the crowd and she smiled as she saw the slate-haired boy stand on his chair. The Lord's voice drew her attention back to him, however.
"My dear people..." he began in his deep, authoritative, slow voice. Lea thought of it like molasses: slow, honey-like sweet, and dangerous.
"Today is my thirty-first birthday, and, while we shall have a spectacular speech and celebration as the day draws near in less than an hour—" Cheering erupted from the nobles, and Xehanort smirked slightly as he held up a hand for silence.
"Yes, yes, I eagerly await the show as well. However! Seeing as we all have... fifty-six minutes left now, I would advise you all to enjoy the festivities until midnight!" He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture and smiled (Lea saw how it was mostly fake. He suspected it had something to do with fancy people's customs or whatnot), allowing everyone to take their leave. He lowered his arms and turned around, sweeping away with Braig and the blond man, his navy-blue coattails fluttering slightly from his sudden movement.
Xion heard him bending down to the ring-wearing boy and mutter, "No. Stay here," as he left with a dignified air with the Lord. She watched the boy stand there silently, staring at the wall, and decided to approach him.
The funeral-dress-wearing singer wove her way through the dresses and trousered legs of the men and women there, and quietly walked up to the boy. They were about the same height.
"Hello!" She offered her hand to him. He turned, and for the first time, she saw the other side of his face. He had bangs, messy and layered, covering his right eye. His other eye was bright aquamarine, but was dull-looking from boredom. He glanced down at her hand and looked at it. Xion's friendly smile faltered a bit.
"You're, er, supposed to shake it..." she explained. He moved his gaze from her hand to her face, and she felt shy.
"I guess you don't want to..." She smiled weakly and rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. "So, are you having fun at this party?"
Shrug.
"I guess it's a really important number, isn't it? Thirty-one? Or do they always have such a fancy to-do up here?"
He shook his head.
"Why is it important?"
Another shrug. Xion smiled and shook her head.
"Well, it was nice talking to you! See you at midnight!"
He stared after her with his aquamarine eye as she left the fort for the festivities below, on the first level (they were on the second; the walls had walkways on them, but there was barely a third floor: just a bell-tower and an observatory-patio. The first floor was where the festivities were, and had a bridge to the outer beach and to Devil's Bay).
What a peculiar girl.
Xion made her way through the crowd and met up with Lea: he was watching with amazement as three clowns set themselves on fire, dance in the flames, and douse themselves with a strange smoke to smother the fire. Moments later, they would step out from the curtain of smoke to reveal that they were completely unharmed: not even a slight burn on their skin.
"I wanna learn to do that," he breathed to her in awe. "That'd be so cool. But none of the Scrolls teach that..."
"How 'bout you go ask them?" his friend suggested. Lea shook his head.
"Nah. Either I learn from the top, from my mind, or from my dreams. I'm not gonna go ask some clowns how. Hey, let's go check out that!" Tugging on her arm, he led her to the next attraction. A young artist was drawing people from the crowd, and was giving them their drawings in exchange for a few coins. It was hard to tell whether the artist was a boy or a girl: their hair was tucked neatly into their brown tricorn, and their clothes gave nothing away [except that a) whoever they were used a lot of paint, and b) they wore peasant-clothing when drawing].
A few feet over stood a tall woman with long black hair and a black dress next to a taller man with slightly spiky blond hair (no where near the spikiness of Lea's) in a jacket with one arm. They were at a white table and were selling fortunes, shuffling cards with mystical symbols on them, and reaching into a frothing, smoking cauldron every now and then to take out more strange objects, such as a peacock feather, glass spheres, crystal triangles, and a gold hoop. The woman wore a red bandana on her head, and the man wore a red scarf around his neck.
"Do you want to get our fortunes?" whispered Xion. Lea grinned and quickly slipped his hand into the embroidered pocket of a nearby gentleman. He fished out a small money-bag and took out three gold coins, taking care to slip the pouch back into the man's pocket silently.
"Sure!"
They walked up to the woman and asked for their fortunes. She smiled brightly and accepted one of the gold coins: a fortune cost a silver each, and so she returned eight coins to them.
"You, dear boy... Ah, I see an adventurous future ahead of you. Your catlike emerald eyes shall see far. If you play your cards right, you'll soon end up very powerful, and with plenty of treasure. Ladies will swoon over you. You should carry an empty blue inkwell with you when you go out to sea for good luck, and you must wear a silver ring when around pirates."
"What happens if I don't?" Lea asked cheekily, hiding his amazement. It was as if the gypsy-like woman knew he wanted to sail the seas and find buried pirates' treasure.
The woman looked taken aback slightly from the unexpected question.
"If you...don't?" Her mystical tone faded for a moment, but for a moment only. She smiled warmly. "Well, I guess you could say you'd have a slightly different future... Maybe your luck could change." She shrugged and smiled. "Oh, and also... your pickpocketing skills are very good; but I don't suggest you do that too often." She winked at the boy, who blushed a shade lighter than his hair. The woman turned to his friend and looked at her palm for a few seconds.
"Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart... You still mourn for your brother? Your voice is very talented. Do not weigh it down with the weight of the dead. It should be light and free, as it was meant to be. You sing beautifully, little one," she smiled. "But, you'll need to learn more than just how to sing if you're to survive in your future. Take care on the second night on any ship, and carry this locket with you—" She reached her hand into the cauldron and lifted out a golden, heart-shaped locket. She handed it over to the young girl, who thanked her and smiled.
"Happy twelfth, Xion," said the blond man next to the woman softly, with a kind smile. Xion and Lea stared at him in amazement.
"How—?" But the two adults merely shook their heads and smiled, and a sudden movement of the crowd swept them away and to the very edges of the fort.
…...
A soft breeze rippled through the long grasses on the island, outside of the fort, and danced through the two children's hair. The booming sounds were closer now, but only Lea noticed them.
He recognized them as the sounds of a cannon, but said nothing so as to not worry his friend.
The two guards at the door, one with red hair and one with black, recognized them but did nothing to throw them out. They merely suggested that as it was hot and crowded inside, and as they had twenty minutes left until the final fireworks, that maybe the two could go out to the small field of grass where the flowers grew. Xion immediately asked Lea to go with her there, and so there they went, and they sat down in the grass to look at the night sky.
Xion began unconsciously ripping out a few blades of grass with her fists. Lea glanced over at her and sighed.
He cared for her. A lot. But how to tell her? Tonight was such a romantic night, but they only had fifteen minutes left, and he didn't want to rush it.
An idea sprang to mind. Gently, he picked one of the growing flowers and tapped Xion's shoulder. She looked at him with a curious smile.
"Hm?"
Lea took her hand and placed the daisy-like flower in it. She watched with silent fascination.
"Here. This is for you. It's a birthday present for my best friend. See how there're fourteen white petals?" Xion nodded. Lea quickly drew out a tiny dye-bottle from his pocket and squeezed a drop onto one of the petals. The white quickly blossomed into cerulean, the exact color of Xion's eyes. "Well, now one of the petals is bright blue, just like your eyes." He gently closed her hand around the flower and shyly, ever-so-gently brushed her bangs aside with his burned hand, and kissed her forehead.
It was a sweet kiss, a friendly crush kiss; not at all out of line, and the two blushed profusely after it.
The singer suddenly hugged her friend around the middle.
"Thank you, Lea," she whispered into his chest, suddenly acting very much like a young twelve-year-old lady should. They smiled and enjoyed each others' company, when there was another BOOM, though this time louder than ever and definitely unable to be mistaken for the fireworks. There was a tense second of silence as Lea determined the direction from where the shot came.
"DUCK!" He threw themselves down, taking care to cradle and protect Xion's head, as the cannonball whooshed by and burst through one of the outer walls. There were several screams from inside, and the two guards began sounding the alarm.
"PIRATES! TO THE EASTERN BORDER!" The bells in the tower began clanging as the guests began trying to make their escape.
Lea swiftly scooped up his friend and began running for the bridge to the mainland, when suddenly several unseen enemy dinghies made themselves visible, casting aside their disguises, and unleashed the crowds of pirates within.
"Lea!" Two pirates grabbed a hold of the redhaired fifteen-year-old and pushed aside the young girl. He was fighting back fiercely, but knew he was no match.
He couldn't even use his hands to create fire.
Xion ran towards the trio, but Lea gave her a desperate look.
"Xion! No, stay back! Get to safety, I'll hold them off!"
"No! Lea, I won't leave you!"
"RUN!" He gave her a pained smile, telling her I'll be okay, I promise. Just stay safe, please, for me. I—
The pirate directly behind him clubbed his head with the butt of his sword to quit him from squirming so much ("Like a slippery eel, this 'un. Reckon it'll be worth it?" "Aye. His hair'll fetch a pretty penny if he'd stop his damn wigglin'!") and Lea fell, slumping into the pirates' arms, and was carried away. Xion tried to run after them but was shot in her thigh, preventing her from running, by another pirate.
She screamed for Lea until she blacked out, never once letting go of the flower he gave her.
A/N: CLIFFIE? WHAAAAT? I'm evil.
So, how was it? Good? Bad? It shall be continued, but I think I overdid some parts, like the ice cream and the fortune-telling. Tell me your opinion please! Even if it's a few words. Thanks!