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It was a hard battle. Whatever you were, a scholar, a sailor, a merchant, a sword for hire, a gunman or even just simple crew - you were currently being sieged by slavers.
Members of your crew were being rounded up or killed, and you were next - a sword in hand, trained or not, you decided to fight for your life...and fight you did.
Others rallied around you, closing rank. A new ship on the horizon barely sparked your notice amid the fighting, but with the certainty of a dark horizon, your ship was now being attacked by another group - pirates, the skull and crossbones flag flying high.
Cursing under your breath, you quickly do away with your current assailant, turning to face the onslaught of harpies and sirens you had only read about in fairy tales. Except, you come face to face, sword-to-sword, with a man unlike any other.
His eyes lock onto yours, your blades sending sparks as they clash, and he's strong - far stronger than you. Except when he knocks your sword away, when he pins you against the door to the captains chambers, he doesn't run you through. No, breathing heavily, his long hair like a veil between you, he pauses. Spares your life. Leans close, his gaze locked on yours, as inhuman as they come. And then, he's roughly tugging you into an embrace, his arms around you like steel vices.
"It's you," he whispers in a deep voice, awe and disbelief on his expression, "You're the one."
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