Haven't written a story in a while, and I thought I'd give this one a try. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 1

Two Centuries Ago

"It is your destiny to love her."

Killian glared at the old man whose robe hung loose from his body. He clenched his jaw and his fist. "I don't give a damn about destiny," he fired back. He pounded his fist on the table he sat at as a means to prove his point. His glass of liquor as well as the bottle shook from the vibration. "I loved Milah and the bloody Crocodile killed her!"

The man before him who called himself a necromancer stared at the captain before him. "Just like you to drown your sorrows in liquor," he taunted. His voice was deep and slow. "Milah is just one woman."

The liquor inside Killian was beginning to have its desired effects. His eyes bore into the old man's face. "Why the hell are you on my bloody ship?" Killian answered in anger. "I did not invite you." He swished the rum around in his glass before consuming the rest.

The old man stared at Killian's stump where his left hand used to be just a few hours ago. The dressing that covered it was saturated in bright, red blood. "Seeing as how the Dark One just killed Milah and took your hand, I can help you."

Killian's eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher the old man and his intentions. "What the hell is a necromancer?" he questioned. He had never heard of such a being before.

The old man let out a small, deep chuckle. "I can summon Milah and bring her spirit back. I can raise her from the dead so to speak."

Killian let out a huge sigh, contemplating the old man's words. "That is impossible. Magic can do a lot of things but it cannot raise the dead."

The old man took a seat across from Killian. He reached for the bottle of liquor and refilled Killian's glass. "That is not true," he began. "Only certain sorcerers with special magic can accomplish such a task. It is difficult and requires a great deal of magic from me, but the results are breathtaking. Even the Dark One himself does not have such power. Even he has his limits."

Killian picked up his now full glass of rum and took a big gulp. It soothed the back of his throat as well as numbed the pain from where his hand used to be. He did so slowly trying to wrap his now altered mind around what the so-called necromancer was saying. "Let me guess. Only necromancers have this powerful magic?"

The old man smiled. "What do you say?"

Killian eyed his liquor and then his companion, contemplating the old man's proposal. "What do you need?"

"Excellent," the old man said deviously. He held out his hand to allow for a pendent to appear in a cloud of dark, red haze. "I need you to wear this talisman."

Killian stared at the curious object attached to a chain. The pendent itself was circular and appeared to be a rusted shade of silver. It looked like a much larger coin Killian was used to seeing. But instead of its usual markings, the talisman contained a small circle in the middle with seven triangular points radiating from the center. It also had markings unknown to Killian that looked to be in a different language.

Killian hesitated. He took another swig of his liquor while eyeing it.

When Killian didn't reach for the talisman, the old man wrapped his fingers around it and allowed his hand to rest on the table. "I do need something from you," he confessed.

Killian sunk in his chair ever so slightly as his body relaxed, the liquor finally taking ahold of him. "Oh?" he said flatly. In his drunken stupor, Killian had not thought about there being a catch.

"I simply need your one true love's soul."

Killian straightened up. "What game are you playing, Mate?!" Killian yelled. "You want to resurrect Milah only to take her soul?"

The old man chuckled. His chuckle was deep and malicious. "I did not say that Milah is your one true love. You see, part of my magic is to foresee the future. My knowledge goes beyond this universe. When I said it is your destiny to love her, I did not mean Milah. Your destiny and heart belong to another woman. She will change you for the better; she will make you want to become a better man. You'll begin to believe in things you never thought possible. She is your true love and soulmate, and she is the one I desire." The old man paused to gauge Killian's reaction. When he saw that he seemed unimpressed, he continued. "Of course, I can resurrect Milah. She will be exactly as she was. Nothing to worry about. You just have to agree to give me this other woman's life essence. After all, you haven't even met her yet so what do you have to lose? Besides, you'd have Milah back so it wouldn't matter, right?"

Killian struggled to maintain his vision. "I don't care about this woman! Milah is the one I want!" Killian shouted. He stood from his chair so forcibly that his chair tipped over. He swayed back and forth for a moment before swallowing the last of the liquor in his glass. He slammed the empty glass on the table. "I want Milah," he said firmly, his voice lower and calmer now.

The excitement in the old man rose. His eyes gleamed with delight. He reached his hand out and uncurled his fingers from around the talisman. "As long as you possess this, Milah will remain alive."

Killian reached across the table and took the talisman. It was cold and heavier than he had expected it to be. He slipped it around his neck and tucked it under his leather vest. He looked up at the old man. "What now?" he asked more forcibly than was necessary.

The necromancer raised his hand slightly above his head. His palm faced Killian, and his fingers were spread apart. He closed his eyes and began chanting an incantation in a foreign tongue. It was the same language engraved in the talisman.

Killian couldn't be sure if it was the liquor or the choppy water rocking his ship, but he suddenly found it hard to maintain his footing. He stumbled backward and tripped over his chair that laid overturned behind him. He landed on his back which seemed to knock the wind out of him. He was able to glance up at the old man in time to see a beaming stream of red light emanate from his outstretched hand. The light eventually engulfed the whole cabin of his ship. It was so bright that he couldn't see anything beyond the tip of his nose. He brought his stump up to shield his eyes from the light. He quickly learned that this gesture did not alleviate the pain the bright light caused to his eyes.

"Killian?"

Killian dropped his arm at the sound of his name. He immediately recognized the sweet voice as Milah's. As the light slowly faded, he desperately searched the cabin for his lost love. "Milah," he called. He staggered to his feet. Apparently the old man's magic did nothing for his intoxication.

The light disappeared back through the old man's hand. He cupped his hands in one another and rested them by his thigh as he watched the reunion, a smirk on his face.

Once the light withdrew from where it came from, Killian's fuzzy vision landed on Milah. "Milah," he repeated, unsure of how to react.

"Killian," Milah squealed. She threw herself in Killian's arms.

For a moment, the shock of what just happened caused Killian to hesitate. As the realization of his new reality dawned on him, Killian enclosed his arms around Milah. "It worked! You're alive!"

After a quick but passionate kiss, the couple focused their attention on the old man who stood before them.

"Thank you," Milah offered with as much sincerity as she felt.

The old man sharply exhaled through his nose. "Don't thank me. Thank him." He pointed at Killian. "You have no idea what Killian just gave up for you."

Killian narrowed his eyes, unsure of what to make of the old man's comment.

"Oh my god, Killian, what happened to your hand?" Milah questioned. She finally noticed his bloody stump.

"The Dark One cut it off right after he killed you," Killian explained.

"Speaking of which," the old man offered. He held out his hand and a metal hook appeared in a red haze. He held it up to show it off. "I think you'll want this, Captain Hook." He left the hook on the table and turned around towards the exit.

Once out of view from the reunited couple, the old man sharply exhaled. He did not anticipate that going so smoothly. Perhaps it was the rum coursing through Killian's veins, or perhaps it was because he didn't offer Killian the whole truth. Given the truth, however, Killian would have disregarded it. Nevertheless, the old man neglected to inform him of the small fact that it didn't matter whether or not Milah remained dead. Milah was simply a pawn. He dangled Milah's life in front of him like a piece of meat dangling in front of a pack of hungry carnivores. Now all he needed was for destiny to take its course and bring Killian and his true love together. Smiling to himself and overcome with satisfaction and delight, he could hardly wait for the future blonde savior and Killian's true love to be born.

I hoped you like it. Please review!