The Blackheart Curse

Part I

Is thievery really wrong if the people you're thieving from are thieves themselves? Now that is one heck of a question. Personally, I find it a great hobby. You know? Kinda like a thrift store.

I leaned down and dug through a barrel of jewelry probably snatched from unsuspecting women in different cities.

"Get her!" The command echoed through the misty air, breaking what would have been an otherwise perfectly silent night. Shame. I stared down enemy soldiers as they closed in, swords drawn. I always love a good fight.

My dad didn't want me going on this mission. And, if he wasn't happy with me going, he's sure to be furious to know that I got us caught. I just couldn't help it.

I suddenly felt a tough arm wrap around my waist from behind and lift me off the ground. "For the love of the gods, Jack, can't you just go one day without almost killing us?" The crewman begged as he fled from the hoard of oncoming royal guards. I pressed my palms against his sturdy arm to loosen his grip.

He dropped me when we were at a relatively safe distance. I unsheathed my sword and caught my footing beside him. "Where'd be the fun in that?" I laughed. Winston, the man in question, gave me a sour look. "Oh, come on, old man, a raid isn't a raid if you don't get a challenge out of it. Besides, you could use the workout." I fended a blow as we raced to the edge of the ship, where our own boat was tethered below.

I skid to a halt as a figure stepped calmly out of the captain's quarters. The only man on the ship with a gun. Guns were impossible to get your hands on— unless, of course, you were a royal like this guy. "Give it up, pirates." He said.

"I got him, Winnie, you go." I barked at Winston, leaning in so he can hear me over the beautiful chaos. "Juan should be in the hold. Go get him and we'll be off."

"Aye, lass! Be careful!" Winston replied with a nod.

"If it isn't my Prince Charming." I turned to face my adversary with an annoyed laugh.

Prince Charlie of Jeshima. Born of the royal family in the Jeshiman Kingdom. The fifth in a line of four brothers. I personally found myself often longing for the days when he was just some plain old prince instead of the head of the Royal Navy. Is that even a job for a prince?

I lunged for the prince. For his throat, hoping to end our tiffs once and for all.

He shot a bullet, taking a chunk from my blade and causing me to lose my momentum. "You know what... I'll play fair with you today, my fine lady." He threw the ivory-handled gun to the deck and drew his silver sword. "Just don't expect me to go easy on you..."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. My skin tasted like sweat and soot. "Don't worry. You can't even best me at my worst." My blade took a slice from his arm. He let out a small cry of pain. I took another swing at him. It would've been such a beautifully clean cut if he hadn't dodged.

He blocked my oncoming attacks. He parried. He maneuvered in such a way that I found myself at an eventual disadvantage. I could either plunge into the icy depths of the sea below, or face the blows I would receive escaping past Charming.

I hesitated for a moment. Something you should never do in a battle with the enemy. He took the moment of opportunity to flip my sword from my hand. I watched as it clattered across the deck. Before I could turn back to face him, he pinned me against the ship's wall.

The waves crashed furiously beneath me. "Go ahead." I pant. "Shove me overboard. It'll be the last thing you ever do." I seethed at him. My red curls stuck to my face in clumps of sweat and debris. It was clear that, for the first time ever, I maybe lost a fight.