Black Butler: The Lich's Compass

Chapter 4

Marisol Colón stood in the desolate graveyard, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings on a weathered tombstone. The monument stood as a solemn tribute to the man who had raised her, the father she had loved and lost. Alejandro S. Colón. The name etched in stone felt like a shadow against her heart, a constant reminder of the family she once had and the vengeance that now drove her.

Marisol, for all her strength, still mourned him in secret moments like this. The weight of his death, the betrayal by those who claimed to be allies, still lingered. She had never told anyone the whole truth—not even Sebastian—about how her adopted father met his end. She'd kept the secret locked away, hidden under layers of pirate bravado and the mantle of being an immortal lich.

Flashback six years back...

The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and the sound of creaking wood as the ship docked at the port. Marisol stood quietly, her small form dwarfed by the bustling crew around her. She'd been to many places, seen many faces, but today was different. She had been told to meet someone important, someone who would change the course of her journey.

Alejandro walked beside her, tall and steady, his presence a pillar of warmth and strength in the chaos. Marisol tugged gently at the wooden pendant around her neck, feeling the coolness of the wood against her skin. Her blonde hair fluttered in the sea breeze, and her indigo eyes flickered with curiosity.

As they approached the grand estate of the Phantomhives, Marisol's gaze shifted nervously to Alejandro, who gave her an encouraging smile.

"You've done well, Marisol," he said in his deep voice, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This is Vincent Phantomhive, the man who controls the legacy of the Phantomhive family. He is a man of honor and wisdom."

Marisol nodded slowly, still unsure of what to expect. She was used to the roughness of her crew, not the formality of noblemen. Her accent, thick with the inflections of her native Puerto Rico, softened her words when she spoke, "I am honored, Señor Phantomhive."

Vincent, dressed in a tailored suit, looked down at the young girl with interest. He had expected a more grown-up air from Alejandro's charge, but this child was no ordinary girl. She carried herself with the quiet grace of someone who had seen hardship, her eyes sharp despite her youth.

He smiled warmly, bending slightly to her level. "The honor is mine, young lady. Alejandro speaks highly of you. I trust you will continue to honor your heritage."

Marisol's cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, but she remained composed. "I will, Señor. My ancestors... they are never far from me." She touched the pendant again, the meaning behind her words clear. The sea was part of her blood, the spirits of her ancestors always close, watching over her.

Vincent's gaze softened as he studied her, sensing the weight of her history. "I believe you. Alejandro has a good eye for talent and strength. You are fortunate to have him as a guide."

Marisol nodded again, glancing up at Alejandro with a hint of gratitude in her eyes. "I know, Señor Phantomhive. He has shown me the ways of the world."

With a final nod to Vincent, Alejandro placed a hand on Marisol's back, signaling it was time to move on.

Vincent watched them both, his thoughts lingering on the quiet strength the young girl possessed. There was something special about her, something he couldn't quite place, but it was there, beneath the surface. Something that told him she would become a force to be reckoned with in her own time.

As they walked away, Alejandro leaned down to speak softly to Marisol, his voice steady. "Do not fear, Marisol. You are not alone here. We walk together, as family."