Shipwrecked

Punching ex-boyfriends, surprisingly soft faces. The slip of thought fluttered through the air, swept up by rushing carriages, fabric, and horse hooves. Rich women and young girls giggled in the black carriages, young boys and men laughing beside them. The young girls around the age of fifteen and sixteen were dressed in fine silk skirts, clutching fur purses, content to let the world pass by them in an airheaded blur, whining and slapping their gentlemanly friends when they got out of hand. At times, punching them and laughing it off. It was a rich life. Nothing could worry them.

Where were they going? The sleek black carriage rumbled along cobbled streets, the impassive driver flicking the reins against the two chestnut horses. The carriage turned at a fork in the road, heading toward the sound of waves and the smell of the sea. The curtains of the black carriage moved, revealing a flawless face, and a tousle of blonde sleek curls. The girl smiled and motioned to someone behind her pointing at something in the distance. A hangman's noose hung from the top of a wooden beam, supported by a thick wooden platform. As the carriage slowed to a stop in front of a wooden post behind other less impressive coaches, the girl dressed in a yellow silk skirt tumbled out, dragging a boy around the age of fifteen with her. In her hand, she clutched her purse, motioning wildly at a paper tacked onto the wooden post: the event of the day.

Upon this yellowing paper tacked on wooden post, only smudged words could be made out, detailing a fugitive's name and crimes. One of the most infamous robber and murderer had been finally caught. The ringleader of the pirate coves, the leader of thieves, and the leader of murders was to be hung today. This ringleader of sorts, no one knew who he was, they just called him Rogue.

The girl wearing the yellow skirt walked with the fifteen year old boy through the throng of people, pushing and shoving to get to a spot where she could see Rogue hang. At the age of eleven, she believed that she was far above the age to see her first hanging. The boy on the other hand was wary. He didn't like the idea of letting his youngest stepsister watch the most notorious man of all swing. Watching a man hang was no pretty business. It is said that the prison master wants the people to watch Rogue hang without a bag over his head. He put his hands on his stepsister's shoulders, willing himself to stay calm. They were just here to watch a hanging. No big deal. He had done this before with his father. He had never liked it, but that was not something he let anyone know. Better to be viewed as indifferent right?

"Natalia, you stay close to me okay? There is no telling what these dirty goons will do. Keep your purse in your hands okay?" He bent down to whisper into his stepsister's ears. Natalia seemed to ignore him heartily, batting her eyes at the Duke of Severille or something. "Natalia… He's too old for you"

"Stop worrying!" Natalia snapped back, irritated. "Not like I'm going to do anything rash. Sol, I'm almost twelve! I can take care of myself, I don't need someone like you to baby me everywhere! You should be more like David, he's already got a girlfriend."

Sol scowled, tightening his grip on Natalia's shoulders until he felt her whine a little through pursed lips. He sent a glare to the Duke of Severille, who smirked back. Something in Sol's gut just told him today was not going to be a good day. Not at all.

The prison master strode out proudly at that very moment, his steps loud and confident. He was by means no handsome man. His girth was protruding happily over his belt, his three chins bouncing as he cleared his throat. Under Sol's hands, he could feel Natalia tremble in excitement, whereas his own hands became clammy and cold despite the rather warm weather.

"Ahem! We gather here today to watch the hanging of our undesirable criminal, Rogue," He paused, listening to the crowd that gathered cheer beneath him. It was full of locals and some of noble ranking, all anticipating to see the face of Rogue. It was simple really; Rogue was the cause of all their problems. He was a thief, a pirate, and a smuggler. "Let him hear what we all think of him. Let him feel our wrath under your voices! Let this man hang!" The prison master stepped aside, gesturing at the two men who had appeared behind him. In between the two men stood a figure whose face had been covered with a sack. Dressed in black, the figure was lithe and tall, his stance proud and relaxed as if he didn't have a care in the world.

The sack was whisked off the figure's head. The crowd had been silent, watching the prisoner be walked to the hangman's noose. Sol held his breath, something didn't seem right. Shouldn't the crowd be roaring with anger and happiness?

"Do you have any words for yourself Rogue?" The prison master boomed into the silent square.

"I don't," The figure said loud and clear, not bothering to struggle as the noose was fitted upon his neck. The voice was rather gritty, though it wasn't low, nor was it high. It was somewhere in the middle as if it was forced and hadn't been used for a while. Rogue certainly had a pretty face for a boy although it was covered thickly with dirt and grime. High cheekbones and delicate features seemed too be too out of place for such a notorious criminal. "Nor will I ever."

"Listen to a petty criminal who doesn't regret a thing! Certainly he should be sent to Hell!" The Prison master roared into Rogue's face. Rogue wasn't the least bit fazed. "HANG HIM!"

"Yes. Hang me indeed," Rogue muttered aloud for the crowd to hear. He was shoved up onto the step that would drop out from under him. "Hang me here, and fry me on a pyre". Rogue's hands were suddenly free, a short blade in his hands, the blade quickly attempting to saw through the thick, coarse rope that held his neck.

"DROP THE STEP!" Someone in the crowd cried with urgency. Rogue laughed as the prison guards pulled the rope to release the hatch. Sol held his breath as he waited for Rogue's neck to snap. It never did. The rope itself snapped, Rogue's sawing had worked before the guards could drop the hatch. With a smirk, Rogue's right foot lashed out, boot catching the forehead of one of the guards, the hilt of the dagger smashing against the skull of the other guard. The two dropped like stones off the platform and onto the trodden ground.

"Woops," Rogue looked over his shoulder sarcastically as he hopped down onto the ground in front of the crowd of people. No one seemed willing to step up and cuff him. Sol found himself steering Natalia toward the end of the town plaza, hoping, wishing that they could leave before Rogue's reputation caught up with them.

"Where do ya think you're going?" A voice drawled out from behind Sol. David. He was a tall, burly childhood "friend" that Sol knew. They were by no means on good terms. Sol had what David wanted by heritage, whereas David had a lower status and had to work under Sol later on in life.

"Out like any sensible person would," Sol wanted to keep his temperature in check. It was too dangerous. His father would have his hide if he found out that Natalia was placed in trouble. That wouldn't be good.

"Ya mean like a pussy cat? Fool. Rogue will have your hide. I wouldn't be surprised if he did. Ya no good anyways. Ya family would be happy if ya were gone," sneered David. Sol took a deep breath, ready to retort when Natalia screamed.

Sol turned around to see Rogue standing before them, smile all gone. In it's place was a dangerous stare that could kill a dragon reckoned Sol. Rogue's eyes were a dangerous dark blue contrasting the silver blond hair that hung in wisps around his face and reached his shoulders. He sent a cold look towards David, completely disregarded Natalia and stared unabashedly at Sol. It was then Sol realized that Rogue was not a man, merely a boy his age. He was taller than Rogue, but he had no doubt that Rogue was stronger and more experienced with blades than he.

"Smart boy, thinking ahead. Quick thinkers always allows you survive a little longer," Rogue muttered as he stared into Sol's face. "Stupid ones like him are always the first ones to die." David gaped openly at Rogue, too stunned and frightened to move. Sol pulled Natalia behind him.

"What do you want?" Natalia had never been a quiet child.

"Go back to your happy little life girl. Be glad you're gonna be punching ex boyfriends. Not a scoundrel. Ex-boyfriends have soft faces like this one," Rogue swung his fist, Sol grabbed Natalia and ducked, so Rogue's fist connected with David's face. The area erupted into chaos. Sol pulled Natalia out of the center and dashed for the edges of the town. The faster they left the place, the better. It was only until he had gotten into the carriage with Natalia that he noticed his wallet was gone from his pocket.


AN: Reviews and comments are appreciated to help me improve and work on the plot =D. Thanks for reading!