Nightsea Outlaw

Jean Baptiste looked over the pale, frail woman as she stepped away from the hammocks at the center of the cargo bay. He couldn't help but smile as she approached him. She was like a timid deer in a forest, reacting to an unexpected noise.

"You needn't be afraid." Jean raised his hands, revealing his skeletal arms and manacles. "I'm quite restrained here. With these cuffs and the bars of this cage, not even my curse could reach out and take you."

"Who are you?" the woman asked, pulling a black dagger out from her green cloak as she stepped around, but not closer, to the cage.

"You may call me Jean Bapiste," Jean said, resisting the urge to laugh that bubbled up inside him. "Sorry if my appearance frightens you. I've been kept in this cage for over a week now, and my captors have not left me with anything to do. The entire trip has been terribly boring."

She tilted her head to the side as she looked at him but only managed to come one step closer. Still, she hesitated, and Jean could not blame her. He was not a welcome sight in his current form.

"Your friend on the hammock, I can hear it in his breathing. I can feel it in his movements, even with my curse restrained. His curse is changing inside of him and growing. In time, he will arise with a new power from his slumber."

"You're cursed?" The woman took another step closer.

"Undeath was my first curse. My own curse has grown since then, and I now have a curse of second grade. A pity these manacles are on my hands, or I would introduce her to you."

"Her?"

He raised his hands, showing off their skeletal nature again as he reached for the sky.

"My wife. Tell me, what do you think curses are?"

"They're just a way to use the Surreal," she said, taking another step closer. "That's all."

"Yes, but where do they come from? Why do some people gain curses while others do not? What is the cause of a curse, and what determines its nature?"

"No one knows." The woman took another step closer.

"Too true." Jean laughed, bringing up his bony fingers and clasping them together. "Some say it is a quirk of blood. Some say that it is inherited. Some say that it is a mark on a person's soul. Others say that the Scions grant them as cruel mockeries. I don't personally believe any of that."

"And what do you believe, Jean?" She now stood barely an arm's length from the bars of his cage.

"I gained my curse after my first death," Jean whispered, closing his eyes and resting his cold bones against his forehead. "Eliza died to bring me back and cursed me all the same. I woke up with her cold body in my arms and realized that I was alive, but not."

"And what does that mean?" she asked, taking the final step.

In three swift moves, Jean was up and to the bars, one bony hand reaching through and wrapping around the dagger. He pulled hard against it and ripped it from her grasp. The woman fell back from the cage, landing on her hands and back as Jean retreated.

"Curses are the wishes of the lost," Jean said, sitting back down at the center of the cage as he worked the dagger into his manacles.

"Give that back!" The woman stood up and drew a pouch from inside her cloak. "Thorn's Grasp!"

Green light emanated from her hands, and she threw small black objects into his cage. Jean had a moment to look at them before black vines exploded from the ground and up his body. He frowned as they wrapped around his robes and climbed his frame, pulling the cloth tight to reveal the skeletal structure of his body beneath them.

"So many of us in one place. Such a rarity." Jean laughed as the vines rose higher and higher up his body. "I will not fight back, woman. I merely wanted your dagger to pick away at my cuffs. I thought perhaps I could fit the tip in the lock."

"That's not how lockpicking works," the woman said as the vines wrapped tighter around him.

"Then you know how to pick locks." Jean smiled wider. "Might I be able to convince you to release me? I know more about curses than many, and I would be willing to help your friend."

"You took my dagger," the woman said, clenching her teeth.

"True, but it seemed the best way to get out of my current predicament," Jean said, letting go of the dagger and letting it fall to the floor.

Clitter-clatter.

"I promise you that if you release me, I will bring no harm on you or the others who have taken this ship. The fact that you have taken me away from the Military Police alone would be more than enough payment for my services. Fate has conspired to unite us, and you're all already so interesting."

"You're asking me to trust you." The green glow faded from her hands. "And that's after you tried to take my dagger from me."

"True, but I did not attack you with it and would gladly give it back." Jean nodded down at the dagger on the floor. "What about your friend? With my curse, I could peer into his body and see it in better detail. I could tell you what is happening with the flow of aether inside him."

She stopped, narrowing her eyes as she stood a greater distance away from the cage than before. Jean knew he almost had her interest. He just needed to push a little more, and he might gain a path forward. It was time to roll the bones.

"I've told you my name. Why don't you tell me yours?"

"Erin."

"Then Erin, think about your friend. You don't need to free me from the cage. If you but loosen these manacles, I will inspect him and tell you what is wrong with him. After that, we can make further negotiations for my freedom."

Clink.

He held out his hands to the bars so that the manacles pressed against them, and his skeletal hands were through the bars. He did his best to smile in a way that wouldn't be scary as he waited, and she thought over his offer.

"Sayed, get down here!"

A path forward forged by fate.

A large man carrying two swords on his back and wearing a clawed gauntlet came down the stairs. Jean had not been able to see him before, but he was clearly strong. If Jean intended to fight them, they would pose a serious threat together.

"Who is this man?" Sayed asked, looking Jean up and down. "His hands are awfully pale."

"He was a prisoner, but I don't know why he was being held," Erin said.

"Then we must free him!" Sayed interrupted.

Erin shook her head and sighed, and Jean smiled. Already, the bones pointed to him getting out of this without too much trouble. Maybe these three would be interesting.

"In a minute," Erin said, reaching into her pocket. "Just be ready if he tries anything."

"Will do, brother," Sayed said, drawing one of his curved swords from his back.

Jean reminded himself to be patient. He had done much to raise suspicion. He truly just wanted to be out of his manacles, so he held his hands steady and waited. Erin produced two tools from her pocket and set to work on Jean's manacles with them.

"Ah!" Erin gasped when she touched the metal. "What is this made out of?"

"A metal that saps away at the aether around it," Jean whispered. "It is a new invention, as I haven't seen it before. It severely limits my curse."

"A way to keep cursed people locked away," she whispered as he kept working with her tools. "Like Glory Plateau."

"Let me see." Sayed reached out and touched the metal before recoiling. "Yes, very similar to the maze!"

"Focus, Sayed," Erin hissed at him and returned to work.

Click. Click. Clank. Thump.

The manacles fell to the floor, and Jean took in a deep breath. Aether filled his lungs for the first time in an eternity. Power filled him, and his gate opened on its own to drink in the aether like a man dying of thirst who found an oasis.

Death and decay slithered their way out from Jean's heart and out through his body. His curse, when of the first grade, was simple undeath. He would not call Eliza to his side, for he did not wish to spook his acquaintances any more than they already were.

"Thank you," Jean whispered as he let out a breath. "Not having aether in you is horribly stifling."

"Remember our deal," Erin said, reaching down and picking up the manacles.

She pulled out a sack from her cloak and deposited the manacles in them. Jean watched her and saw the power hidden within her. A glowing green orb from her chest pulsed, even with her gate closed. He could see it wrapping around her heart and out through her body, though the tendrils of the power were currently clear and bereft of power.

Sayed was similar. A bright orange ball blazed brightly in his chest, and lines ran out from his heart and across his body in straight tubes. Jean did not know his power, but both were on the cusp of going to the next stage.

"You are all proving yourself to be as the bones foretold," Jean said, resisting the urge to laugh. "Your friend is growing into his second grade, but neither of you two are far behind. You must have pushed your curses far to see such growth."

"Pushed our curses?" Erin stood up, attaching the manacle bag inside her cloak.

"Life and death struggles, fights that take you to your limits—these are what are required to grow your curse. It binds your curse to you more and more and makes it your own. Bring your friend to me, and I'll know the truth of it more than ever before!"

Jean was excited. If he had a heart, it would be beating wildly in his chest. Instead, his gate just opened further and further. It begged him to call out Eliza, but Jean held back. There would be a time and place for that. Now was neither.

"Sayed, bring Alex over here," Erin whispered, not taking her eyes off him.

Sayed grunted and left their area, returning moments later with a man in his arms. He was dark-skinned but not as dark as Jean himself. An odd metal device covered his heart, but Jean ignored that. He wore only dark pants and boots, but even with the coverage of clothing, Jean could have peered inside the man's soul.

A glowing blue spiral whirled in his chest. Shocks of lightning ran out along his limbs every few moments, revealing intertwined lines of power through his body. Though the man was sleeping, his gate was struggling to remain closed. Jean knew exactly what he was feeling. When his curse had grown, when he had cried out for his Eliza as he faced death yet again, his gate had almost ripped completely from his chest.

Curses begged to grow. They wanted to become stronger. They were a part of the user's very self. With each stage of growth, they would become more of what the user wanted, or more accurately, more of what they needed to survive on Erth.

"So, what can you tell us?" Erin asked as he looked Alex over. "What's happening to him?"

"It is coming," Jean said, a smile spreading across his face. "Soon, you will bear witness to the birth of a second-grade curse. Do not be afraid. Do not be worried. He will come out of his rest stronger than ever before."