"Come on…get off…"

I swore under my breath as I tried to slide my hand through the cuff of the shackles. It was just a touch too tight, however, and I only ended up chafing my skin, leaving it raw and sore. Exhaling a defeated sigh, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall with a small 'thud'.

It was near noon the day after my escape. The storm had blown itself out by morning, leaving clear, blue skies in its wake. Not that I could see said skies, as I was currently hiding away in the back of an alley behind a stack of barrels. After plummeting into the ocean and coming back ashore, I had hunkered down in the first somewhat-safe area I could find.

"How am I going to get these things off?" I mumbled a few moments later, looking back down at my hands.

"Lost the key have you?"

Swearing and jumping, I looked up only to find the lad who had given me directions yesterday. He was sitting atop the stack of barrels, an apple in hand. Before I could reply to him, however, someone started shouting; his eyes widened and he slid off of the barrels, practically throwing himself against the wall beside me.

"Sounds like someone's fairly upset with you," I quietly commented, my brow raised in amusement.

He shrugged, a roguish grin on his lips. "Not sure why. I only lifted an apple from him," he replied. "…And maybe his coin purse." Breathing on the apple's skin, he rubbed it against the rough material of his vest before taking a bite. He then pointed at the shackles on my wrist. "How'd you end up in those? Same way you got that bruised cheek, I would imagine."

The shouting was getting closer, so I lowered my voice even more. "Lad got jealous I beat him in a contest, so he went and got his brothers and dad to try and get revenge on me. His dad sucker-punched me and down I went. When I woke up, I was in a storage room and these beauties were around my wrists." I shook my head. "They were going to put me up on some auction block."

At that, he chuckled, his brow rising. "'Some' auction block?" he repeated, his amusement evident in his voice, despite how quietly he spoke. "I take it you must be new t' Shipwreck City, then."

"Aye. This is my fifth day here." We both fell quiet as the shouting man came to the opening of the alley. His shadow was long as it stretched across the wooden floor, though it started to get shorter as he came walking towards us. The lad curled up into a smaller ball against the wall.

I leaned forward ever so slightly, managing to get a peek at the man. He was in his thirties and was neither lean nor fat. But he looked mean and he had both a sword and pistol at the ready. Glancing back at the lad, I decided I'd help him since he had helped me the previous day.

Scooting forward a bit, I looked up at the man with a cheeky smile. "'Ey, mate, you don't happen to have a spare key on you, do you?" I asked him, making sure my shackled hands were in view. "I'm in a bit of a pickle, as you can see."

He jumped and aimed his gun at me; I had taken him by surprise. After realizing I wasn't his target, he rolled his eyes and turned his back on me before walking away.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then," I called after him. I pushed myself backwards so that I was against the wall once more.

"Thanks for that, mate," the lad said, a bit of a surprised look on his face.

I shrugged. "You helped me yesterday, so it's only fair."

Now he looked confused. "I did?"

"Aye. You told me how to get to the Saucy Siren."

His eyes widened slightly and he laughed. "That's why you look familiar! An' here I thought I had maybe stolen from you recently."

I snorted. "No, and even if you had, you would have only gotten pocket lint," I told him. "The captain who brought me and four others here didn't let us grab our seabags before booting us off his ship."

At that, his brow rose slightly. "I take it, then, that you an' those four others were once part of a merchant crew?" I nodded. "Did you jump ship or were you given a choice when overrun?"

"The latter."

"Makes sense. Have you tried going back t' the ship, sneaking aboard, and stealing the bag back?"

I paused for a moment. Truthfully, that wasn't something I had thought about doing. My pause must've been enough of an answer for him, because he chuckled.

"Something to think about before she sets sail again, mate," he told me. "Though, that's only if you had stuff o' value in the bag. If it was just clothes, let it be. Now, if you were to happen upon your ex-crewmate's seabags an' know that they have something of worth in theirs…" He grinned mischievously.

"Well, as much as I'd like to attempt to steal my bag back, I can't," I replied. "At least, not while I'm wearing these." I lifted my hands, reminding him that I was still shackled.

He took a bite from his apple, a contemplative expression on his face. "How tight o' a fit are they?" he asked, having shoved the bit of apple into his cheek, making it stick out like a squirrel's.

"Fairly snug." I pulled the cuff up to the base of my hand, showing him how the fit was just tight enough to prevent me from pulling my hand free. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to get them off without a key."

"I've an idea. Stay here." He stood up and, before I could say anything, he carefully left the alley.

'He's probably not coming back,' I thought, a small frown coming to my lips as I watched him walk off. 'He's got no reason to help me, after all.' Looking down at my wrists, I let out a heavy sigh. 'I wonder if there's a way I could break them off without hurting myself? …Actually, I highly doubt that.'

I thought I would try squeezing my hand through one last time before giving up, but I would do it differently. Instead of holding the cuff with the opposite hand, I put my hand between my feet and, using the soles of my boots, pushed down on the metal while pulling my arm.

"You're only going t' hurt yourself if you keep doing that." I was more than a little surprised to see that the lad had returned—and he was holding an unlit oil lantern. He crouched down in front of me and, unscrewing the wick from the base, grabbed the chain of the shackles. "This should help a great deal," he said as he carefully poured the oil over my wrists and hands.

A quiet hiss of pain left my mouth; the oil made my raw skin start stinging. I almost asked what kind of oil it was, but quickly thought better of it. Instead, I twisted the cuffs back and forth a few times, making sure the oil got beneath them. Then, squeezing my fingers together, I started trying to pull the cuff off once more.

At first, it didn't seem like the oil was helping. But then, I felt the metal slipping further and further up my hand until, finally, the cuff popped off.

"Aha, I knew the oil would work," the lad grinned, showing that his right canine tooth was capped in gold.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I freed my other hand and let the shackles fall to the ground with a clatter. "Thanks, mate," I said, grinning as well. "You've no idea how much I appreciate this." Not wanting to stain my vest just yet, I wiped my hands on my trousers; I wasn't able to get all of the oil off, but it was good enough.

"I have a semblance o' an idea," he chuckled, watching me stand. He then held out his hand. "The name's Jack Sparrow, by the by."

Taking his hand, I gave it a small shake. "Emil Drystan." The name still felt a bit odd to say, as it wasn't my real name—well, that's a partial lie. 'Emil' was part of my real forename and had been my nickname throughout my life, but 'Drystan' had been my uncle's name. In a mixture of wanting to honor him and not wanting to sully my family's name, I had adopted it as my surname.

"Drystan, eh?" Jack repeated, amused. "Now that's a name I've not heard before."

I shrugged. "I'm Welsh." It was then I noticed that I stood a good five inches taller than him, making me wonder if I had had a growth spurt over the last three months or if he was just short.

He nodded in understanding. "Well, Drystan, what say you to going to see about getting that seabag o' yours back?" he then questioned. There was mischief in his eyes and voice, which, if I hadn't already been leery about his offer, would have left me such.

"And just what are you wanting in return for helping me get my seabag back?" I questioned, a bit of caution in my voice.

He wore a feigned look of offense. "Now why would you go thinkin' I want something in return, hm? Can't a bloke help another bloke out?"

"A bloke can help another bloke out," I began, "but when bloke number one happens to come from a city of pirates and thieves, bloke number two knows that there's almost always a requirement to receiving bloke number one's assistance."

Jack seemed almost impressed by my reply. "Ah, I see the wool's not easily pulled over your eyes," he said. "Alright, I confess: It is my intent to help you and in return, gain your help in a little venture that I may or may not be scheming up."

"And what sort of venture would that be?"

"One that involves passage t' Tortuga and possibly acquiring myself—er, ourselves—a ship."

At that, my brow rose. Ships required more than just two people to man them, after all. Though, I suppose a dinghy could be crewed by just two people with relative ease. But acquiring even a dinghy at our age was damn near impossible, whether it was through illegal means or not. And then there was the fact that he hadn't mentioned joining a crew in order to reach Tortuga…

"I would assume that the passage to Tortuga would involve us stowing away in the bottom of some ship, aye?" I questioned.

"Perhaps."

I frowned slightly. It was hard enough for me to hide certain…things while being a part of a ship's crew, but being stowed away would make it impossible to keep said things hidden. "Why not buy passage? You just stole someone's coin purse, after all."

He smirked and, holding up a finger, wiggled it back and forth at me. "That money is going to be used to buy supplies," he told me. His smirk faded slightly and he glanced away as if he had just remembered something. "At least, if there's enough coin in there, it'll be for supplies."

I crossed my arms over my chest; I could tell that Jack was beginning to notice my skepticism. "Then why not barter passage? Do a bit of work in exchange for transport…"

He cleared his throat. "Truth be told, I'm only sixteen and too young for most o' the crews around here to hire me or let me work in exchange for passage. Which isn't the least bit fair, considerin' I was born and raised on a ship, so I can work just as well as any o' them." He huffed out a sigh. "And I can't lie about who I am, either, because most o' the captains here know my dad and—What? Why'd your eyes get so big all o' a sudden?"

"You're only sixteen?" I questioned. Thanks to the stubble along his jaw, I thought he was older than me. Not to mention, I had been working on ships since I was fifteen; hearing that the pirates here had an age limit for how old you had to be was something I wasn't expecting to hear.

"Aye, I am," he replied, voice a bit cautious. "Why? How old are you?" His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked up at me.

"Nineteen in two months' time." I watched his eyes lit up and another grin come to his face.

"Well, that's just splendid! You can barter passage t' Tortuga while I stowaway and keep our belongings nice and safe, aye?" He wore a hopeful expression, with his eyes wide and a smile on his lips.

Part of me said to decline this offer; I could always get a new seabag. At the same time, however, another part was reminding me how my current seabag contained navigational instruments given to me by my uncle—nice instruments, at that—as well as my journal and writing kit. Not only that, but…

Well, I didn't really have anything better to do, now did I?

"Alright. You help me get my seabag back and I'll help with your little venture," I said. "But on one condition."

His brow rose slightly and his smile faltered ever so slightly. "An' what would that be?"

"You have to teach me about the Code and how to be a proper pirate." I held my hand out, showing that I was truly willing to partner with him.

A broad, triumphant grin spread across Jack's face and he heartily clasped my hand, giving it a good shake. "It's an accord, then! Now, let's go get that bag o' yours back, shall we? What ship was it that you came in on?"

"The Wanderlust."

"Hm. I'm afraid I don't know that one."

"That doesn't surprise me. Captain Edmunds took it under his control when he attacked us," I explained. I started to follow him as he made to leave the alley. "She's a fully rigged pinnace."

"A pinnace? Don't see those down here very often. But, it should make her easier t' pick out down at the docks." He must've seen the skeptical look on my face, because he quickly added, "Don't worry—we're not going to try anything in the middle o' the day. We're just going to scout out your ship while also looking for a vessel that happens t' be going t' Tortuga."

I nodded in understanding. "What's so important about Tortuga, anyway? Why not a closer port?"

"Because, like Shipwreck City, Tortuga is essentially a safe haven for pirates," he said. "That, and no one knows me there, so it'll be easier for us t' get up to no good." He looked back at the path ahead of us. "Oh, and I hear they have some lovely wenches there."

"Says the lad who just told me he needs all his coin for supplies."

He wore a pout when he looked up at me. "While it may cost a pretty penny to spend a night with one, it costs naught to merely look upon one of the lovely women of the night."

His words made me remember lovely Mary from last night. "Unless you're buying dinner in their establishment," I murmured, thinking I had spoken more to myself than out loud.

Turns out I was wrong and that Jack had, indeed, heard me. "Ahh…I see the lasses at the Siren have managed t' ensnare you with their siren songs, have they not?" he teased.

"Aye, they did," I replied with a small laugh, my cheeks turning a bit pink. A thoughtful expression came to my face and I patted my vest near my chest. There was the sound of metal coins clinking together and I grinned. The blokes hadn't stolen my coin. "Might dine there again, as a matter of fact."

"Just dine?" He gave me an odd look.

"I don't have enough to spend the night with one and buy myself some food," I told him. "Though, when I woke up in shackles around midnight, I really regretted not staying the night."

He let out a hearty laugh. "That I don't doubt. I also don't doubt that'll be your last time in shackles, either—especially if this partnership works out well."

"You plan on us getting arrested quite often, then?"

"Not often, no, but even the greatest pirates get caught once in a while. Even my old man has gotten caught and he's one of the best pirates there is. It's practically a rite of passage." As we passed through an open section of road, his gold tooth glinted in the sunlight. "But, if all goes according t' plan, our names will be up there with the great pirate lords. We might even become pirate lords ourselves one day."

'This lad's certainly got his head up in the clouds,' I thought. Regardless, I let out a laugh. "You're going to tell me just who the pirate lords are and how they came to be such," I said out loud. "I only know that they exist, but not their purpose."

He nodded in understanding. "Fair enough. But, as it is a long and storied explanation that will surely dry the mouth out, it is something best told while having either drinks or a meal."