Well, I'm done with Chapter 15, and lots of stuff happens here. Hope you like!

Chapter 15: The Order Unraveled

No one liked the guards. He resented stealing that rich man's beautiful scimitar, but this was too much. Tsau waited as the prison doors opened so he could step outside on the courtyard for a bit of fresh air. To be honest, he had never seen a prison like this. Everything was so organized, so controlled that it didn't seem like anything would go wrong, because Persian guards stood everywhere with their imported British rifles.

"Time to go, Chinese boy," the sloppy-looking guard said out on the doorway. Tsau stepped out in his inmate outfit and walked downstairs of the building D Sector. "Don't do anything stupid."

Tsau kept his head down, and his hard face showing. He wanted to make sure that no one would even attempt to attack him in this prison. As the doors opened to the courtyard, he could see the existing factions that formed amongst the prisoners. The weighty metal cuffs that were laced around his wrists felt hot, for they have been shown the sun for quite a while. As soon as they were out, the guards unhooked his chains.

The sloppy guard munched on a piece of bread. "Okay, boy. This is the courtyard; your playground. Or rather yet, the battleground. Many violent things happen here that you will not like, for Allah's blessing does not reach this corner of hell. They will intimidate you, fight you, tell you that your mother's a fat Chinese pig, and definitely try to kill you. This happens so often that if the fight is no longer much of a loss, then the guards will not stop it. Allegiance with a faction will guarantee you safety, my friend. If you choose to be a loner, then prepare for hard times to come. That is all."

Tsau kept a straight eye. He was not scared, but quite nervous. This atmosphere was unlike anything he's ever seen in his life. He then remembered that he had never killed a man before…not even during his years in the rebellion. Before he could even think for another moment, a rather finely built man with a thick goatee approached him. He was a white man.

"Hello, mate," the man greeted in a friendly tone. Tsau could tell from the accent that he was British. "Welcome to Jahannam."

Tsau tilted his head in confusion. "Jahannam? That's Arabic. What does that mean?"

"It means Hell. Welcome to Hell, my friend…and I am one of its many devils," he then said, giving a sadistic smile.

As he seemed to pull a blade from out of nowhere, Tsau's eyes widened and the adrenaline in his system began to pump quickly. Barely dodging the slash of the small, knife-like blade, Tsau stood back as the prisoners gathered around to watch. After dodging a few more blows, Tsau tried to get a hold of the situation.

"Come on, boy," the man said, waving the blade around. "Make me hurt."

Tsau watched the knife in the man's hand move around, anticipating the next move. With a swift kick, Tsau managed to knock the blade out of his hand. After, Tsau desperately leaped forward with his elbow and struck the man on the top of his head, knocking him out instantly. He took a step back and watched frantically, wondering if he was dead. The sloppy guard waddled up to the two and checked on the fallen inmate. The inmate groaned with pain and shut his eyes.

"You!" the guard yelled to Tsau. "I leave you here for 2 seconds, and this is what happens?!"

"Would you rather have me dead?" Tsau replied with a shrug.

The guard rolled his eyes and carried the fallen inmate back into the medical wing. The rest of the prisoners stared at Tsau for another few moments, then went back to their business. Minutes passed by as Tsau stood there, waiting for something else to happen, but instead, he was greeted by a man dressed in a white hood and coat, almost like a monk, but some of the sand tracings on the coat made it seem like equipment—possibly weaponry—once accompanied it. A very faint symbol of a falcon was imprinted on the back. The man walked over and removed his hood. A fairly taller man than Tsau, his dark, African skin had a few small scars, even across the face and cranium. He bowed down to Tsau.

"That was a unique display of defense there," he said with an Arabic accent. "Most Easterners use that form of combat, but the kind you use seems to be mixed…a slight touch of southern Muay with kung fu?"

Tsau looked at him oddly. "That's right."

"But the way you execute it…" the man said, pacing around. "Is different. It's a bit unpredictable. There's only one other person that I've seen fight like that."

"Enlighten me," Tsau said sarcastically.

The man smiled. "Ah, you even have his attitude, then. The only man who I know fights like that is Tua Tsun-Jai…or rather yet…Tsun-Jai Tua."

"I'm surprised you know him," Tsau said in a slight anger, gripping his fists. This man could be connected to his father's murder, and he's here, right now. He wouldn't pass up a moment like this.

"We were friends," the man then said. "He was a merchant sailor at one point in his life. I am a former pirate. We met during a raid in south China, and I spoke with him, got to know him. Later, we became combat friends, fighting on the same field over a small civil war. Are you…?"

"I'm his son," Tsau replied. "I'm an only child."

The man nodded. "Ah, yes. So, does you father know you're here?"

"He's dead," Tsau responded blatantly. "I am the only one left in my family."

He looked down and shook his head. "I…I'm sorry…I didn't know."

"I know," Tsau said.

The man then looked back up and held out his hand. "My name is Altair Muhammad Hassan. Arrested as the Pirate Lord of the Persian Gulf."

"Tsau Nu Tua," Tsau shook his hand and looked at him for another moment, oddly. "Altair….? Falcon?"

"Yes," Hassan responded with a hearty smile. "I have established an order right before my capturing. The Order of the White Falcon…an order of assassins, spies, thieves, and strong activists."

He chuckled a bit. "Well, your order doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Since you're the leader, and you're here, who's in command?"

"That is what I fear," Hassan said with a nod. "My second-in-command did not get along well with me, and he must be in complete control at this moment. I fear he might send people to kill me from the outside."

Tsau raised an eyebrow. "Well…that's unfortunate for you, then."
"And you?" Hassan asked. "Do you have any future planned for yourself?"

"I'll just follow wherever the trail leads," Tsau answered, starting to walk away.

Hassan stopped him. "You should come with me. The contracts we give out are very lucrative, my friend. I'll take you under my wing. Teach you the tools of the trade."

"Sorry," Tsau said. "I don't think I can kill someone."

"But look how good you are at it," Hassan replied. "You almost killed that man. The purposes of the assassinations are to scare off the corrupt and the wicked. People who are evil at heart, Tsau. You can help bring peace to many."

Tsau shook his head again. "Look, I'm not you. I—"

"What else do you have, then?" Hassan said in rebuttal. "Right now, I am the closest relative to you. You don't have to join the Order. Just let me watch over you…it is what your father would want."

"You're a pirate," Tsau then said. "I can't trust you."

"But I'm all you have. Did I also tell you that I am a holy man?" Hassan responded. "Please. This prison is dangerous. Let me watch over you."

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Jack Sparrow stood in front of his crew on the Pearl, as it docked on an island somewhat a short distance from Port Royal. They have been on Blackwell's trail for a good week now, and Jack hoped he could clear some misunderstandings with Blackwell, and still strike a deal with him even though he had the chest.

"I'm going to go in," Jack said. "You all stay here—including you, Hector—and don't do anything stupid. Aye?"
"Aye!" the crew shouted back, except for Barbossa.

Jack clumsily walked along the sand, headed towards a small outhouse between palm trees. As he walked forth, a small group of British and Chinese soldiers came out and had their guns pointed at him.

"I'm here to see Governor Blackwell," Jack said, standing in an arrogantly proud posture.

Behind them came a man who was a good half foot taller than any of them, bulky and tall but his skin was completely gray and covered with scars. His breathing itself really made the sun seem dimmer to bright Jack Sparrow. He was dressed in complete steel armor in an odd European design, because it was definitely not like those of British knights. In his hand was his helmet, and what was on his face was notably his unique feature. Across his jaw, from the top of his nose down to the bottom of his chin, was a dark steel mask that had a small opening across it for his mouth, but it was barred with small steel tips so he could not stick large objects into it. His head was badly scarred and completely bald, and his eyes were dull and cold.

Jack gave off a disgusted, frightened look. "Governor…Black…well…?"

The tall man grunted and signaled for him to go in through the door.

Walking nervously, Jack tried to ignore the man as he went into the outhouse. "That's good, beastie."

Jack walked into the outhouse, but when he stepped in, he noticed a passageway towards underground. The corridors that led down seemed to get cooler as he descended, deep into a small base about a good 30 to 40 feet underneath the ground. The base was not that big, and the rooms were regular size, and it was only a long hallway instead of a large room. Jack noticed people walking around, busy with their work, and then noticed Blackwell walking along the way.

"There you are," Blackwell said. "I've been looking for you."

"Ah, Augustus," Jack enthusiastically replied. "I've come to…clear things up."

The man smiled. "You won't need to anymore. I can kill you right now, you know…"

"Ah, but you won't," Jack alleged with a gesture. "I know of something that can help you…say…completely control the Necromortalis."

"Don't take me for a fool, Jack," Blackwell said. "I know about the dagger. Bring it to me, and I might spare your ship."

Jack had his hands clasped together. "Aww…Augustus…you know Jack Sparrow isn't a fool, either. Only I know how to get it, my friend."

Scowling, Blackwell submitted to him. "What be the plan?"

Jack smiled. "There's always a way…"

"I don't think so, Jack," Blackwell cut him off. "Take him away."

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Tsau was once again down in the cathedral, praying for himself quietly, in an everlasting search for himself. He had his eyes shut, but when he opened them, he stepped out of the cathedral and back upstairs to his home. Passing by the small pool, he stopped at the training gear and began to work out. It was 5:00 AM, but this was just another day for Tsau. The only way he achieved his physical shape was all in a day's work, keeping persistence and a commitment to it. The man didn't care how much effort it took, however, for he enjoyed the peace of the morning before the streets flooded with merchants and beggars. Laying down a few punches on the homemade heavy bag, he took breaths and started hopping lightly to warm up his legs. After his leg warmup, he then struck the bag hard with a roundhouse kick, causing the bag to fly far up in the air, then fall back down.

"Tsau?" asked a woken Zi. Her hair was already combed nicely.

Tsau turned around to her. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Are we going to go back to the Dutchman soon?"

"Fairly," he replied.

Zi nodded in return and began to walk back inside. "I'm going to head back first to check on Elizabeth and the others, okay?"

"I'll be there in awhile," Tsau replied, resuming his workout.

Zi smiled and opened the door to the inside, packing her things as Tsau continued working out. To be honest, his place was quite peaceful. Although the lighting is slightly disheartening, she can see why Tsau is peaceful here. The sound of merchants the past few days were very faint, and the sunrise was beautiful. As she hung her bag on her shoulder, she looked back at the door that led to Tsau once more, then headed outside. Descending the stairs and heading outside, Zi noticed that most of the merchants were already setting up their businesses while people walked up and down the street. It was not long before she was surprised by a person she did not expect to see again.

"Farah," Zi said. "What are you—"

"Shh," Farah insisted. "Come with me."

Zi curiously followed her to a quiet alley, where they were secluded from everyone else in the area. Finally alone, Farah looked at Tsau's friend with a sense of worry.

"Okay, what is it?" Zi asked.

"It's about Tsau," Farah stated. "You wanted to know more about him, and this was the only time I could reach you."

Zi looked around, then back at Farah. "What is Tsau really hiding from me?"

Farah nodded, but had trouble finding the words. Zi looked like she cared a lot about him, and if she told her something that could break her heart, things could be bad. Tsau was right, then. It was a better not to tell anyone about his actions and goals. Dreadful things might happen if she told her. "Well, um…it's hard to explain. You see, Tsau is a lot more than what you see. He doesn't like to talk much about what he does, does he?"

Zi shook her head. "No, he doesn't. You didn't answer my question."

"I told you…" Farah said. "It's hard…"
"Just say it," Zi insisted.

"Well," Farah started with some difficulty. "Tsau has 722 assassinations on his count, you know that, right?"

Zi's eyes widened. "722? I never knew that…that number is high. But he says he's never killed any innocent people. He said he'd 'never spill' their blood."

"That was an assassin term that is used in his order," Farah explained. "When he said 'spilled the blood,' he meant 'assassinated.' To put it clearly, Tsau never 'assassinated' any innocent people. He's killed many kinds of people. Off the record, from his mind, I read over 1000 accounts of murder."

"So, does this mean he is a crazy, blood thirsty killer then?" Zi asked with slight sarcasm. "Are you telling me that he loves to kill people?"

Farah shook her head. "No, by all means, he's a normal person. But I told you this to shed some light on what I'm about to tell you now."

"And that is…?" Zi asked.

"Well, you see…" Farah started. "Tsau told me not to tell you anything when you came to visit the Manifest Archives. I couldn't hold back any lies to you. The reason why Tsau came to visit the Manifest was—"

Farah's voice stopped when a green dart pierced her neck into her throat, instantly killing her. Her body collapsed as chills ran down her spine seconds before she finally passed. Zi stumbled back in fright, and looked up at the rooftops. On instinct, she began to run after more darts struck against the walls. Someone was after her. Someone who didn't want her alive…and now she was alone, with no Tsau to help her.

Chapter 16 will come, but I'm not sure when. It'll be posted, though. Thanks for the support, guys.