Every pirate knew the name Nero Galloway.
Taken in by the top dog, Furball, who was the king of all pirates of the seas, at such a young age, Nero lived the rest of his days as a pirate. Some would even say he would consider Furball as something close of a father figure, but Furball was the furthest thing from being described as a parent.
Furball, the monarch of the seas, owned six ships consisting of roughly hundreds of crewmembers who hoped to be one day being recognized by Furball himself, and yet he merely took in a scoundrel little boy he found on the streets one day, gave him the name 'Nero Galloway,' and took him under his wing.
Of course, Nero admired him. He dreamt of being as powerful and capable as the number one criminal that ever lived. Furball was his savior when he was starving in the streets looking for food, and because Nero knew the hardships of having nothing, he dreamt of having everything in his grasps.
He became a pirate for that sole reason. He wanted to live, but most importantly, he wanted to be filthy rich.
Who cares if his face was on every wanted poster in every city? Who cares if every pirate at the seas envied him, and wished to poke him with a sword?
Nero certainly did not care. He stole golds from nobles, golds from pirates, golds from Furball, and now he was finally set for life and even in his next life. He could sit on a mountain of golden marks and still have enough to spare.
He was rich and everybody wanted to be him.
Then, what in the world was he doing inside a cell?
Droplets of water hit the floor to his cell as he sat leaning on the wall. There was only one block of square for a window that let him view the rocky shores outside, and it was barred. He played with a chip of rock, threw it to the wall opposite to him, then caught it again in his hands.
This is getting boring, he thought.
Nero Galloway, the boy who was taken under Furball's wing, the pirate that was even rumored to take Furball's place as the next pirate king, was sitting inside a cell in Bargeesa.
What a terrible day.
He had washed up on the shores of Bargeesa one day, and the Garrison instantly knew who he was. They threw him inside a cell, and he was still in that same cell two months later.
His face was stoic as he thought about it—the day he was thrown to the seas. He had always known people would stab him in the back one day—he was a bit of an arrogant and cocky brat that nobody liked, but to end up totally abandoned in a cell was just too laughable to him.
Seriously? Me? End up in prison?
Just how low have I gotten?
He threw the rock with more strength than he used to and the rock crumbled into pieces when it hit the wall. Great. Now I lost the only thing that kept me sane.
One of his arms—particularly the right arm—had a long red mark that swirled up to his elbows. It throbbed in burning heat every day, every night, and every second. But Nero sucked it up because it was his saving grace. The Garrisons thought it was a burn mark, or a scar, but Nero knew better. It was just invisible to their eyes.
Coiling around his arm was one of the lightning Ribbons of Monique Wrillwraith, the Ribboner. Nero had stolen it from the prince after their one and only encounter three months ago, and it was by far the hardest thing to obtain.
First of all, the Ribbons did not show itself unless Monique used his powers. Second, not everyone can just touch his Ribbons and be okay and keep standing. If a normal human were to touch one of his Ribbons, he would be electrified and burnt to a crisp. That was why Monique Wrillwraith's Ribbons were considered as one of the world's wonders.
Why was he born with that kind of affinity? Why is he so special and different from the others?
Nero knew the answer. Because he and Monique had something in common.
Suddenly, the door to the end of the prison room clanged. It swung open with a heavy creak, and in tramped the red-haired woman he watched this morning be shipped to the island shore.
"Walk faster, woman. Not everyone's a gentleman." The Garrison that trailed behind her pushed her shoulder. Her face was scowling, and she had her eyes closed.
Nero watched with his eyes as they stopped in front of the cell opposite to his. The Garrison unlocked it, then shoved her inside. She did not make any complaints or showed any restraints. She was surprisingly obedient.
The Garrison locked the cell again. Then, as if remembering something, he turned to Nero. He pointed a vicious finger at him. "Don't try anything stupid, Galloway," he warned. And with that, he left the prison room with a bang to the door.
Nero raised a brow. Like I can do anything in this shithole, he said in his head. Then he turned to look at his new cellmate.
The girl was sitting on the floor with her back to the iron bars. Her knees were up, and she rested her arms on both of them. She rested her head on the bars.
Her hair dripped with water. She also wore a new pair of clothes. So, she was given a chance to bathe before she could dirty herself for the rest of her life in prison? Nero found it ironic.
Suddenly, she sat with her legs crossed underneath her, then placed her palms on her knees. Nero watched her as she sat with her back straight, a face full of focus.
Nero quenched his brows. Is she meditating?
A light breeze went past him, to the direction of the girl. He watched, transfixed, as he felt a power surge encircle her. He felt it in his chest. She's gathering kalu. How is she doing that in such an absurd speed?
He was right about her, then. The first time he saw her, he knew she was something different. The air that surrounded her was different than the rest of the prisoners in Bargeesa. The scene at the spider's cage, he lent her his pickaxe just to see what she could do with it. It turned out she did not need it too much, because she ripped the creature into half with her bare hands.
If Nero befriended this girl, would she help him with his plan to escape?
It was worth a try.
He broke the silence between them. He cleared his throat.
"Hey, red locks."
His voice rang loud. He hadn't spoken in so long that he had forgotten how to properly tune his voice. The girl jolted at his sudden outburst. But she ignored him.
Nero tried again. "I'm talking to you, red locks. It's just the two of us in here." Most of the original prisoners that Nero had neighbored with were dead. One day, they just mysteriously disappeared and never came back.
"Red. Locks." He said the words one by one, until the girl hunched in annoyance.
She gritted her teeth. "What?"
Finally. Nero sat up properly. "Where are you from?"
The girl looked at him over her shoulder. She was glaring at him, as if it were a nuisance talking to him.
"I don't plan on getting to know each other," she answered him bitterly.
"Sorry. Too personal? I was just trying to place the technique you were using just now. Were you gathering energy from the surroundings?"
The girl sighed. "You third realmers wouldn't get it." She shook her head.
"Come again?" he asked. Third realmers? Nero had no idea what she was talking about.
"What is it that you really want from me?" she asked.
Nero restrained his laughter. She's smart. She knows I'm up to something. "I plan on taking back that favor you owe me," he said.
A scoff. "Favor? I don't even know who you are."
Nero was shocked by this. "What do you mean you don't? Was I not the one who saved you from that spider kregg? There is no need to thank me, by the way," he gallantly said.
She turned around again, and then she really looked at him. Her eyes roamed up and down, surveying him. She squinted her eyes. "Oh, right."
And that was all she said. She faced the wall again.
Nero's eye twitched in irritation. "That's all you have to say? Not even a 'Wow, such a handsome young man!' or a 'I am truly indebted to you, good sir.' No? Nothing?"
Her back was still faced to him. "You said there was no need to thank you. And I would have handled that creature fine by my own anyway."
"Oho!" Nero was getting amused now. "You're cocky. I like that. Say, do you want to help me get out of here?"
Straight to the f'ing point, Nero.
The girl scoffed once again. "Do not drag me down into a death pit. I don't work with people I don't associate with."
"Then let us 'associate'. The name is Nero Flavius Galloway. What about yours?"
She tsked. "You can call me whatever you want."
"It's a deal then. You and I are escaping this place. Together."
Nero sat back in his cell, feeling proud of himself. He put his arms behind his head as he closed his eyes, smiling.
The girl spoke again, however, shattering his dreams.
"I haven't agreed to anything yet. For all I know, you could just use me as a decoy while you go off on your own merry way and leave me behind, not that I need your help anyways."
"Oh, but you do. I've been a prisoner here much longer than you, and I have been plotting my escape since then. I know the layouts of this island, and when they usually ship in cargo. I know what time the Garrisons usually switch patrols. I know which parts of the buildings have unbarred windows. I know so much more." He smiled, like he knew he got her.
After saying that, the girl slowly turned around, until she finally faced him fully.
It was the first time Nero had seen her up close. Back in the spider's cage, everything had happened so fast that he did not really pay any attention, but now that he was looking, he could see.
She had bruises on her neck, or what seemed more like a permanent mark, like she had spent a long time being collared to something. Down her arms were tiny crisscrosses. They were all closed wounds now, but when up close, it was eye catching.
But then he looked at her face. Brown eyes and tiny freckles on her nose. She wore an expressionless face, like she had seen too much in life at such an early age. She looked resigned. Tired. Disinterested...
But she was beautiful.
"Tell me then," she suddenly said. "When do they ship in the cargo?"
Nero shook out of his trance. "I... what? Cargo?" He suddenly forgot what a cargo was. He searched in his mind, and then snapped his fingers. "Oh, cargo! Yes, the cargo ship. It happens in two days."
"In which direction?"
"The Western wards."
"And what time do the Garrisons usually switch patrols?"
Nero did not hesitate. "Three hundred seconds before lights out."
The girl's brows shot up, like she could not believe it. She even looked impressed.
And then she said one word that put everything into place.
"Deal."
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