Nightsea Outlaw

A kick came for Cragg's face as he saw the swordsman drop his brother to the ground. Cragg never could have imagined that his brother could be beaten. They had always been together, even after their mother went on vacation.

"Bragg!" Cragg yelled out as the kick connected with his face.

Crack.

Bone-cracking force slammed into his jaw and knocked him off balance. Cragg flew through the air as the glimmering purple light of his opponent's outfit cut past him. His thoughts were on his brother until the spike of pain managed to reach his brain. Then, his thoughts were only on the pain.

"Hammer Slam!"

Boom. Scrape.

He slammed his hammer down into the ground and used it to arrest his motion. Rock and dirt flew up into the air as he gouged a line through the ground with the head of his hammer. His feet and body fell to the ground with his hammer held in front of him when he finally came to a stop.

"You bastards took out Bragg!" Cragg yelled, spitting out a loose tooth as he stood up with his hammer. "I ain't going to forgive you!"

He charged forward with his hammer, and he saw the man in front of him reach up and tug on his hat with one hand as he swaggered forward. The bony man snapped his fingers as he walked forward in a beat that reminded Cragg of Mister Deadman.

"Hammer Festival!"

Cragg took two steps, swinging his hammer with all his might as his muscles bulged, and he launched forward in a spinning attack. He threw himself forward through his spinning vision, using the bright purple of the bony man's clothes to guide his attack because that was all he could make out in the whirl of the world around him.

"Spirit Step," the bony man said before he disappeared from sight.

Bragg couldn't stop his attack, so he kept going forward in his spin. A single prick of pain pierced his scalp before it faded, and the purple light of the man's clothes appeared behind him. Cragg tried to lean back toward the way he had come, to take the momentum of his attack back toward the bony man, but he couldn't seem to control his movement.

"Spirit String."

Cragg could make it out through the flashing image of the bony man in the purple clothes. A line of purple energy ran between them, and the bony man held that string tight in his skeletal hands. Cragg understood the problem vaguely. So long as the string was there, he was under the bony man's control.

"Spirit Partner," the bony man said. "So long as we are connected, you'll be my dance partner."

"I'll...break...you," Cragg said as he spun in place.

"Come here," the bony man smiled as he ripped on the string, and Cragg's rotating form came for him. "Let me show you the first step. Spirit Cross-steps!"

As Cragg was pulled in, the bony man began to kick out while moving in a circle around him. He manipulated the string with one hand while a flurry of kicks slammed into Cragg. Cragg took each of them, unable to dodge them because of the pull of the string.

Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.

Cragg's rotational motion stopped at the end, and he spun off to the side until he fell to the ground. Out of instinct, he caught himself on his hands and knees and knelt while taking in quick breaths. All around his chest and back, bruises broke out from each of the kicks, and each one felt like a hammer hit him.

"That hurt!" Cragg cried out as he dropped his hammer and gasped for breath on the ground.

They hadn't been strong enough to take Cragg down, but each one of the six pulsed with heat and pain as he held his side. With a grunt, Cragg forced himself to stand and reached up to knock away the purple string on his head. The bony man stood across from him, snapping his fingers in a beat again.

Snap. Snap.

Just like Mister Deadman. The skeleton man was confident. Cragg couldn't let him win. Cragg was strong, and even though he was the youngest, he still had to protect his brother. He stopped at that thought. Bragg was dead. He had seen it.

His breath quickened in his chest as he looked up at the skeleton man. It was their fault. It was all because the two intruders had come down into his camp to pick a fight. He and Bragg could have continued their work if the intruders had just left things alone. They could have gone about beating up the drim and forcing the drim to get the job done. Now, he was alone. Cragg would be the only brother now. What would momma say to him when she came back from vacation? Cragg felt hot tears running down his eyes as he thought about how she would yell at him.

"Who do you think you are? Why are you intruders even here?"

"I can't speak for anyone else," Jean said, looking over to the swordsman and Bragg's body before he smiled. "But I'm here for one reason only: the experience itself. Only two real goals are left for me now that I've been to the other side. I want to experience all the world has to offer, and I want to have Eliza by my side while I do it. The only meaning to my life is the absurdity of existence itself. Why not enjoy it?"

Cragg narrowed his eyes. He could barely understand what the man was talking about, but none of it sounded right. People just couldn't live life for themselves. His momma had always told them that they were meant to serve. They had to fight for someone. That was why they had served Mister Deadman when she went on vacation.

"That ain't right, skeleton man." Cragg stood, forcing himself up with his hammer as he heaved in and out. "Someone like you can't beat me. I have someone that depends on me!"

"Your brother is dead," the bony man said. "Your boss isn't here. You only have yourself."

"Ain't no one going to talk to me like that. Hammer Slam!"

Cragg's face heated up as anger pumped through him. He gripped his hammer tight, hurting his hands as he pulled it up from the ground. He took in a deep breath as he raised his hammer, his muscles bulging as he struck down at the bony man. He put all his strength into the strike, making it go as fast as he could and making the head of his hammer a blur in the air.

"Spirit Pirouette!"

Bang. Slam. Bam. Bam. Bam.

The bony man spun into a whirl, becoming a purple, glowing tornado as he spun with one leg out. The first kick caught Cragg's hammer and slammed it to the side. The second, third, and fourth cut into him like a tornado. Cragg dropped the hammer as the force of the kicks reverberated through his body. They kept coming and coming as the bony man spun faster and faster. Cragg kept falling as the flurry of the kicks threw him into the air. The kicks finally stopped when his back hit a wall, and he crashed into rock and stone.

"Bragg," he mumbled as he closed his eyes and fell into darkness.

Jean stepped back from the man as his attack finished. Cragg slipped to the ground, falling face-first into the dirt without the force of Jean's kicks to keep him upright. Jean reached up and adjusted his hat with one hand as he looked down on the unconscious man.

"You just didn't have the will to grasp your dreams," Jean said, looking down at him. "Maybe one day, you'll meet us again. I hope you don't hold your brother's death against Sayed."

He walked away and closed his gate, leaving Cragg behind. His purple suit disappeared, revealing his dancing clothes beneath. There were a few rips where there hadn't been before, and his left arm was still cracked, but he could move it now, and the healing process was on its way. With his gate as his source of being, all of his bodily functions were now handled by the crystal in his chest. So long as that remained intact, he could still manage to live.

Michael had climbed down during the fight and now came up to him, breathing hard and dropping his hands to his knees as he looked over the carnage the fight had left behind. Jean made his best smile as he patted the man on his shoulders.

"It looks like your troubles are over, my friend," Jean said. "We can free your crew and go meet up with Alex with the knowledge of a job well done."

"This was just supposed to be a scouting mission," Michael wheezed as he waved over the area.

"It was, but fate determined otherwise," Jean said. "Just like fate determined that Mister Deadman would not be near the camp, otherwise he would have already intervened, I think."

Michael's ghastly pale face went a shade paler as he realized the implications. Jean wasn't sure they could have handled a third fighter in the melee, even if he knew nothing about Mister Deadman's abilities. However, they had been fortunate. Jean suspected that fate had guided Mister Deadman elsewhere precisely because Sayed would have jumped down to fight. He did not believe in a god, like Sayed did, but he could appreciate the machinations of the causal chains all around them.

"Now, go find the keys and free your companions," Jean said, turning away from Michael and making his way to Sayed.

He thought about the situation as he walked. If he were right in his guess, Mister Deadman would face off against Alex and Erin. He did not know what machination of fate drew the boss off, but it was a good enough assumption.

Bragg lay face first in the dirt, blood flowing up in spurts out of his pierced heart. Death was a messy thing, and Sayed's attack had been merciless. Jean shook his head as he picked his way through the muddy ground and picked up both swords before taking them further away and setting them on the ground. Now, he just had to go and get Sayed out as well.

The man lay on his side in a pool of blood that wasn't his own, and Jean had to extract him from it, taking hold of his legs and dragging him through the dirt and mud. Jean had no water on him, but he could at least do Sayed that dignity.

"You had quite the fight," Jean said, looking Sayed over with glowing purple eyes. "You pushed your curse to the extreme, and your next stage is underway. I wonder what powers you will have when you awake?"

Jean couldn't predict how such a thing would go. Sayed's primary ability was heat, according to what he had been told. Would he rise up wreathed in fire as an avatar of his god? Would he spout flame from his mouth? Would he be able to conjure swords made out of flame? There were so many possibilities, and no one curse grew the same way as any other.

Even if someone had a curse similar to his own, they could branch out in a myriad of different ways when reaching the second grade. He had chosen to be able to manifest spirits as a growth from his initial ability to manipulate spirit energy. Eliza had walked him through the steps, and he had seen how she would be with him once again. He didn't imagine that someone with the same abilities would choose the exact same power.

He had just wanted to hold Eliza's hand once again.

In the distance, he saw Michael running back, keys in hand. Jean smiled as he walked away from Sayed, content to let the man grow in peace. Once all the prisoners were freed, they could go to the west camp to meet up with Alex.

Jean was sure that there would be a surprising turn of fate from whatever was happening there.