Archive of Our Own

The enemy was closing in. He could see them through the rain. His hat made sure not a single drop of it would get on his face, much unlike the bandits that struggled against the mud.

His grip on his staff tightened, as he narrowed his eyes at the group making their way to his village.

Certainly not.

He looked to the side, and signed a friend hiding in a tree like his, a bit further and closer to their village. His companion signed back, and he smiled.

He loved having the freedom of doing as he wished.

He jumped down the tree, and killed the bandits, one by one. They fell like flies, lifeless corpses, their blood mixing to the brown that was under their feet. He kept silent all the while, suppressing the smile he could feel growing on his lips.

If one of his own people came in and saw him with it, they might understand he craved violence more then anything, lately especially.

Once the deed was done, he let go of the last man, his body dropping down as a dead weight in the mud. He sighed, reassurance liberating his shoulders from the potential danger.

For tonight, their village would be in peace.

He looked up at the sky, letting the rain fall onto his face and clean most of the dirt and blood that had stained it.

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The blue ninja weakened quickly aboard the ship.

He watched, as Nadakhan kept giving him tasks- mostly cleaning, sometimes in impossible situations, waiting for him to say his wish, after days of exhaustion and malnutrition. Yet, too impatient, and hurrying things through, despite what the captain wanted people to believe. But Doubloon knew him too well.

Then again, this ninja was headbutted. Determined to not give up, defying the djinn, again and again. Not thinking of the consequences that could ensure.

It bugged him the wrong way when he realized this was what he’d been like for most of his youth, especially when learning to be a ninja.

Which he supposed only made it worse the moment he heard the lightning ninja scream. The moment Nadakhan truly snapped.

This was something cruel to take away from anyone, but they were pirates, and it wasn’t uncommon.

For their captain, especially.

And he was a pirate, too. There was no sympathy from him to be expected. Slight remorse? Of course. Always. It was what gave him enough rage to keep up, giving him the power to go forward, and realize there was no turning back. That it had always been in him, too.

He’d always been cruel, and loved making people he barely knew suffer. No matter their past, no matter what it would provoke afterwards.

Which was why he jumped on the occasion to get back into some much needed Scrap-N-Tap. And it felt so good. This ninja deserved nothing less. He represented what Doubloon despised the most; a defense, for those that had guided Ninjago to its downfall. A defense, for people that claimed themselves innocent, when they had done their share of sins.

He knew the blue one was no better.

Else he wouldn’t have done those wishes, would he?

It didn’t take long for him to get ill. Most his wounds were infected, and his body had lost much needed weight in the span of those few weeks. This was without speaking of his mental state; alert, always watching over his shoulder, whether it’d be for pirates wanting to have a bit too much fun, or Nadakhan, against whom there wasn’t much he could do. But it was fun to watch.

He was fun to exhaust, as well.

Then the second Scrap-N-Tap came up. And it was bliss. For all of them.

More pirates showed up this time, probably leaving some places unattended, but they didn’t care. No one could deny them a chance at beating the kid down. Most pirates thought like Doubloon about those so claimed heroes. Even if they were part of this period, and clearly didn’t know a thing about being a pirate before joining onboard.

But they were here for the blood. And so was he.

Breaking a few bones, using his staff to twist the ankle a bit more- rejoicing when the shout became so high the blue ninja’s voice simply broke. It was hilarious, to see him thrown back and forth between the pirates’ hands. And he wasn’t the only one to enjoy it. Everyone was- aside from Clancee, really.

This session continued until the ninja noticed the sunrise, leading him to finally give up, and letting himself fall limp.

For a moment, they wondered if he was dead. He had dropped like a bird- he hated the image that came to his mind with that. But when Monkey Wretch punched his side, it did force some sort of painful unconscious scream out.

Flintlocke sighed. “’Ight. Looks like we’re done here.”

Groans and curses, but they scattered away as soon as the first mate glared at them. He then turned to Doubloon, gesturing to the body looking like a corpse.

“Throw’im back to that cell. No need to wast’ more time.”

Doubloon turned his face to his annoyed friend, making his sentiment clear about being the one forced to clean the mess left behind. There was a snicker from his superior, to which he answered with his angry face. Other then that, he didn’t argue more, before walking to the ninja.

He tilted his head; this one was in a pitiful state, with blood still coming out of most cuts. An ugly bruise was on the left of his face, probably making whatever was under the eye-patch much worse, and this was without mentioning the way his clothes were torn, and barely holding together.

He seemed so frail this way. Doubloon was pretty sure any of his joints would break if he was to crush them under his boots. He really wanted to try it out, before coming back to reason and grabbing the ninja.

The blood was going to stain his own clothes.

He wouldn’t have cared, if he hadn’t washed them not too long ago.

He missed being able to curse. He missed being able to sigh, groan, even open his mouth. Master knew how air was getting into his lungs. He could feel them expanding, when he breathed, and coming back to normal, but other then that… nothing.

There wasn’t a day where he did not regret that wish.

The ninja whimpered, when being dragged back. And that forced him to stop for a second.

The eye was slightly open- though rolled back- and it seemed for a moment he was dreaming. Of what? Freedom? He would have snorted if he could, and kept walking back to the cell while holding the blue one by the armpits.

He made his pain known, of course, but it wouldn’t change anything.

Yet, he couldn’t help but wonder; how, was he still alive?

Doubloon wasn’t sure if the fear that grew inside of him was from the boy, or from the djinn. Because, if Nadakhan knew that the lightning ninja still didn’t want to die, or give up, then… yes, fear for what their captain would do if he learned about that. He’d say the feeling was foreign, but…

They had all seen how he had gotten lately. How he had changed. He wasn’t the friend they used to have. And this was worrying- especially to Flintlocke, who knew him the longest.

To change his mind, he looked at the trail of blood they were leaving behind. The first rays of the sun showed off how fresh it was. And it was quite a sight.

He threw the ninja inside that pit, careful of letting the chained ball first. That kid had wit, he had to admit. Letting him into an even worst state wouldn’t do much, and he supposed he at least owed that to him. For showing guts, and somehow angering the djinn even more.

There was always something pleasant from seeing Nadakhan’s face contort in rage.

If he hadn’t been a ninja, Doubloon was pretty sure he’d agree with Clancee; he’d be making one hell of a pirate.

He huffed, and closed the bars behind, locking it once. He wouldn’t bother doing more. There wasn’t even a chance the ninja would survive this. At least, he didn’t see how anyone could. He was going to empty himself at this point, and it sure would be interesting to see unfold.

His attention shifted to the joyful mechanical monkey that jumped on his shoulders. His face turned to a pleasant one, and he tilted his head, listening.

Excited noises; they found a group of people on one of the new islands. Doubloon grabbed his staff, and followed his friend, already feeling the rush of adrenaline taking a hold of him again.

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He had followed them from the den.

He knew people with good money when he saw them.

Don’t do it.

He had sworn this one to be the last.

So greedy. Hadn’t he sworn the one before to be the last as well? To go back home, and live, with what he had already gotten?

Go back.

But this was a memory, there was nothing he could do. He hated it. This felt like the call of gold was taking over once again. And it infuriated him.

Thinking this would be an easy way out. Knowing that they were pirates, but loving the feeling of outsmarting people. A sentiment of euphoria, he supposed, just as good as fighting. The look of betrayal on their faces, as they realized someone like him, a simple villager, had snatched out a good portion of their gold.

Maybe this was why his old Master had decided to throw him away from the Monastery. He couldn’t really blame him.

Well, not anymore.

And to think, he had thought himself capable of fighting the djinn. Sure, he had seemed impressive at the time, but he had only looked like a strong human, something he could deal with anytime thanks to his talent in Spinjitzu. If he had known…

But he hadn’t.

And he fell for it.

Hoping to double-cross them, only ending in a well elaborated trap.

Because he had been the reason the captain of the Misfortune came to this side of Ninjago.

And then, he had done the wish, thinking he’d be good enough to outsmart him.

Foolish. So foolish.

His inner voice sounded too much like his ancient master. And he despised it.

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He really hated when their captain decided to come back to this side of piracy. And he knew he wasn’t the only one. He saw it when Flintlocke decided to light up a cigar, watching ahead as he tried to guide his consciousness away from the moment. When Dogshank groaned more then before, deciding to take a group of pirates with her to search the islands for left civilians and get rid of them. When Monkey Wretch and Clancee hid in the pilot’s cabin.

Doubloon? He stayed there. Not too far from the first mate, making sure to not disturb him. But close to the captain’s quarters’ doors, knowing he’d be the one asked to put the chains back, or lock the kid away in his cell.

He wished he could smoke again. That should’ve been able to help with the disgusting feeling. Instead he sat on the ground, making his staff turn in his hands to help ease his mind, and turning a deaf ear on.

Despite being the closest crew to the captain, they all knew they had no choice when first getting enrolled. They’d been trapped by the tricky djinn. But it had all helped them see a bigger truth. How poisoned their world had been, and how they had no choice but to follow him if they wanted a better chance at living. If they wanted a chance in trust, and bonds stronger then anything they ever had before.

To seek more, of how they’d all been blinded by those stories, of how their world had come to be, of how everything was supposed to stay fair, because hadn’t the First Master of Spinjitzu made sure of it?

He’d spit at his ancient master’s boots if he could.

The screams stopped, and he heard Flintlocke sigh. His superior gave him a nod, and Doubloon got on his feet, ready to drag the ninja out- or a corpse, perhaps. He found himself preferring the latter. It would avoid him dealing with that horrid feeling he couldn’t identify yet.

Nadakhan came out, clean and proper as if nothing had happened inside. Doubloon tilted his head when his captain shook his head.

“Leave him in there.” A grin stretched his lips. “I’m still not done with this one.”

“Again?”

Flintlocke’s frustration felt welcomed, since he couldn’t express his own emotions. But the twitching eye of the djinn made him take a step back when he noticed the first mate was still speaking, out of… what was the word again? Ah yes. Insubordination. Something Nadakhan hated more then anything. “I thought ye wanted him to wish it away.”

“I do.”

“Then why’re you still doin’ all this?”

“Flintlocke.” He was suddenly very close to his friend, looking down on him with a grave expression. “We had this very discussion a couple days ago, did we not?”

He watched, as the other swallowed hard, looking back at his captain with fearful eyes. “A- ay-” He bravely stood his ground. “But ye could just stab him and be done with it; he’d wish it all away immediately to stay alive, and you’d still get his power. I still ain’t seein’ how all that is necessary, cap’n.”

There we go again. Doubloon didn’t move, not wanting for the two to remember he was right there.

“You know how much I’m enjoying myself.” He took one of his cigar out, handing it in front of Flintlocke. The latter got some fire out, and lit it up without even looking at it. Something he was used to after all these years. “I couldn’t possibly strike him with my blade after going this far, could I?” A groan, but he kept going, before the other could even think of interrupting his captain.

“And don’t you forget I am the captain. If I make choices, you are to follow. Isn’t that what you swore to me?”

Not by choice, that was for sure. Something Flintlocke had started to overlook over the years.

Doubloon never had. He couldn’t.

“Sure. But it’s my job to make sure ye’re doing yours right.” Oh he’s out of his mind! If staying still wasn’t so important, Doubloon would’ve ran away immediately to avoid any possible backlash on himself. “And I think we’re wastin’ time with that wench.”

Nadakhan hummed, bringing his cigar to his mouth as he considered the words. He exhaled some smoke out. “This really is not different from last time. If you don’t have anything else to add, then-”

“I’m trying to make you see reason!”

“Because you can’t see the bigger picture.” He raised his eyebrows, exhaling some smoke. “Did that ninja get in your head last time?” Flintlocke opened his mouth, but Nadakhan had leveled down with him, piercing eyes not blinking once while he made his point across. “Does this mean I have to worry of you as well, Flintlocke? Of the person I trust the most?”

No answer. The other had his lips clamped shut. So the hook came below his chin, tilting it up as the djinn straightened. “Answer.”

“N- no, cap’n.”

“Good. Then do not question my plans, ever again.” He sighed. “I’ve always brought fortune to our ship, you know this well. Soon, we will have our own land, and Ninjago will be no more.”

“…You won’t stop before they’re all gone, will ya?”

“That’s right.”

Flintlocke pinched the bridge of his nose, taking one final puff from his cigar before throwing it overboard. “Fine. This better be worth it, Nadakhan.” And with that, he walked away, back to attend whatever task he’d been assigned earlier.

The djinn chuckled, before leaning on the ledge to finish smoking.

This is all some kind of game to him. He hadn’t learned a damn thing.

As silently as possible, Doubloon went back to the shadows, and escaped the other pirates’ eyes by going below, where he knew people wouldn’t pay attention to him.

And he thought.

This wasn’t the Nadakhan they remembered. This one threatened them, his own friends, to the price of his selfishness and personal revenge. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t who he used to be.

He walked in circles, hands behind his back and mindlessly playing with his staff as he considered his options.

He had followed Nadakhan because he hadn’t had a choice. He hadn’t been able to come back home, to them, looking like this- they wouldn’t have recognized him, and if they had, they’d have understood he had kept his thievery going.

When he had promised them otherwise.

And then, he had enjoyed life at sea, so much so he hadn’t been able to leave someone he’d gladly called his captain at the time. Someone that respected him, and saw him for the talented person he was- despite cursing him forever. Truth be told, at some point, he had overlooked the situation, blaming himself for the poor choice of words, and not the djinn, who had simply done his job.

But then he remembered, and he realized, how some much needed sense needed to be knocked back in his mind. But he enjoyed being a pirate, and being part of Nadakhan’s crew meant no limit to his cruelty, even encouraged in his actions. And he loved it!

…Yet Nadakhan had never acted this way with Flintlocke. Or any of them. This wasn’t the first time since coming back to this realm. After… three hundred years?

He stopped in his tracks.

How long again? A price this long, for following and trusting blindly the djinn?

He had wanted to get revenge on him at some point. When had this changed? During their first moment of camaraderie onboard? Probably. He had never really felt like a human before that, despite the past physical appearance stolen from him.

But this wasn’t the Nadakhan they knew. The voice in the back of his mind kept screaming. This one was driven insane, by grief. By the loss of his people, and… Delara.

She had changed him. So of course, losing her meant changing all over again.

For the worst.

“So. When will ye change yer mind?”

Doubloon whipped around. For once, having an expressionless face helped diminish his surprise.

There was Jacob, an old enemy of theirs. He’d been attached as a corpse on the Misfortune at the time, and it seemed like those 300 years hadn’t been enough to get rid of… anything that was bone like.

Nadakhan had cleared the corpse himself the first time, surprisingly good at maintaining bones.

He walked a bit closer, looking up at his old foe, and slowly placed his staff on the ground, before signing.

What do you mean?

No one knew he was able to do that. No one, aside Monkey Wretch, and Jacob. The latter had used it to its advantage to make Doubloon ‘talk’ once. When its own crew had gotten their hands on him, a long time ago. A really long time ago, now that he reminded himself of it.

A chuckle, despite no organs allowing that. “You see just as me how fucked up tha’ monster’s is. He be the reason ye landlubbers got expelled in an other world.” It shook its head. “When will you scums ever learn.”

Doubloon picked back his staff, using it to make a leap so he could be right next to the skeleton. It turned its head to him, tilted. But he had expected him to join. So he signed.

I’m not the one dead.

“And I ain’t the one that can’t speak.”

Well, there wasn’t much he could say to that, really. With spite, he sat next to it, gripping his staff tightly. He hated this. Hated how Jacob wasn’t wrong; Nadakhan had… changed. Too much. Snapping at them for the slightest inconvenience, keeping things away from his closest crew, from them.

They had sacrificed everything for their captain. All these years, at sea, sharing this… sort of friendship.

Was this how they were getting repaid?

“So?”

He used his hand to do a ‘shut up’ gesture, that made the bones cackle. It was such a weird sound, but he didn’t really pay attention to it. After all, his own face was divided into two masks, which he quite frankly still didn’t really understand- not even how it worked. It was on command and natural now.

“You’re thinking about it.”

This time, there were no signs.

“Ye know we have to get rid’ of ‘im.”

You should know about betrayal.

“That’s why I’m tellin’ you this.” It crossed its arms, amused. “We’ve done this before, Doubloon. Ye idiots are putting yer trust in a monster. And it’s gonna bring everything we know down.”

He knew that. Deep inside, he knew that. He knew how wrong all of this was.

This wasn’t about seeing his homeland torn apart. He had never cared about it, ever since getting on his first boat. Ever since joining sides with the pirates. But he hadn’t had a choice, that day, had he? This just kept repeating in his mind, and he was getting tired of it. Tired of hearing the truth.

Sort of reluctantly, he signed to the man. …You have a plan, don’t you?

“Don’t I always. Ha!” Its body shook with that laugh, disturbing Doubloon even more then before. “We’re gonna need that so-called ninja.”

He was taken aback by this. Him?! He shook his head. How? He’s just a toy for the djinn. He can barely hold himself together.

“But he ain’t dead yet, ain’t he?” Before he could answer, the skeleton kept going. “How many have you seen survive that bastard’s wrath? And, I ain’t speakin’ of you pirates. Ye ain’t the best models.”

Silence. No moves from him, either. He was sure it would’ve smirked if it could.

Because he started to understand, that if anyone could stop the djinn, and this madness, it would be him. If anyone could get rid of this limbo they were stuck in, it would be him. Or, at the very least, one of those ninjas, those elemental masters. At least this one would be strong enough to tire the monster.

Enough so that the boat would sink one final time, and the captain with it. Making sure it would never come back from the depths.

“Don’t worry. You’ll just have to let him come to me when ye be the one patrol. And, I will need another sword. A not blunted one, like this ol’ piece of scrap here.”

A sword? His shoulders shook, a move that never changed even if he didn’t make the sound, or breath. You’re not serious. You think he won’t notice?

“He won’t. And you know that as much as me.”

…He…

He needed to think about this.

How would the lightning ninja ever defeat the djinn? He was strong, this was out of the question. And determined. Not willing to listen to Nadakhan, no matter the price- a horrible one, that he knew their captain wouldn’t stop taking advantage of until his very last breath. And this was- enough to make anyone go insane, of course.

But that didn’t mean he was ready by any means. He was… so young. So… full of hopes, still.

Why else would he still be fighting?

He needed him to snap. To break, and hopefully rebuild himself with a rage like no-other. Just like Doubloon had. Only then, would he be able to fight back properly the djinn. If that didn’t work, he supposed he could see any of those other masters do the trick.

He knew what he had to do, then.

Help to build that ninja up until he couldn’t anymore, and make sure his despair would be enough to light everything on fire. Well, lightning, in this case. He’d seen a master do it before, so doing it again should be possible.

And if it failed?

Well, he wouldn’t be the one blamed for it. Jacob was in more danger then him.

And if Nadakhan found out about him?

…This would be a problem for the future. He couldn’t see how, since the djinn trusted him enough, but that could change fast. Lately especially.

Alright. I’ll do it.

He felt the skeleton straighten itself, its whole gesture showing excitement for whatever plan he had in mind. No doubt was it glad to be back in action, after such a long time being lifeless.

After all, he had once been a pirate as well.

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To say it had backfired horribly for the ninja, would be an understatement.

But he stayed there, when Nadakhan decided to make him an example to the whole crew. Watched, when the poor boy’s back became nothing more then painting of mashed skins and torn inner flesh. It was… something. But not the worst of it, no.

The after had been the moment he realized what they had sent that ninja to.

What a fate. But he was resigned, and determined to do anything in order to get rid of the djinn now. No matter who would die on the way.

He was thrown back into the cell, afterwards. Unconscious, and barely breathing. Dying.

There was no way he had survived these fifty lashes. Doubloon had rarely seen people able to take as much as that, actually. And he had seen lots of beatings. The kind of whip that had been used made everything worst for the boy.

He watched the blood, still glistering on the wooden floor, that Clancee was forced to clean. Usually, the snake didn’t care of what he saw. But it seemed like knowing where it came from, from who it came from, made him feel some sort of regret. He was easily growing attached to people.

Much unlike Doubloon.

He walked away, leaving his friend alone with his thoughts, and rushed back to the skeleton as soon as he was sure everyone was asleep on the Misfortune.

Was that anger, boiling under his mask? His hand tightened around his staff.

This was the shittiest plan Jacob had ever come up with. The slightest wrong move would bust them out, and risk any future plans to never work again.

He sat next to the skeleton, but didn’t sign anything. He didn’t need to; there was no way Jacob didn’t understand what had happened.

“I heard the screams.” The skeleton didn’t look away from the stars as Doubloon took place next to it, right where Jay sat last time. “I’m guessin’ the bone failed?”

Of course it did! You thought this was enough?! He shook his head, before signing, slower this time and trying to calm himself; there wasn’t any need for that anger. What happened had already happened, and there was nothing to be done about it. You sent this boy to a death trap.

“Yet he kept the kid alive?”

Doubloon nodded. He’s waiting on him to die in there.

The skeleton brought a hand up to rub its chin- something it had kept from the days it used to have a beard. “Then there’s still a chance.” It looked at the painted face. “Ye know, I heard’em stories ‘bout this so called ‘First Spinjitzu Master’. But I doubted any of’em were real. Until him.”

Doubloon’s face turned into one of laughter. He signed. I told you so.

It scoffed. “Ye’ve ever seen a master of’element befo’?”

Doubloon nodded. Wind and Fire. He hesitated. And… Ice. Very powerful. They were destroying everything on their paths.

“Huh…” The skeleton crossed his arms. “I don’t know why I thought they would all be on the right paths. ‘Cause of the blue bird, maybe.”

Doubloon snapped his fingers in front of its cranium. Don’t call him that. It’s disgusting.

“Ay, sorry lad.” It sighed, pinching the bridge of where its nose would’ve been, above the two holes that allowed air to get in and out without really breathing. “In all my years as a commander, I’ve neve’ seen any pirate go this far befo’. Nadakhan is to get rid of, at all costs.”

Doubloon looked ahead, at the starry night. He didn’t need to agree to that. Any sane man would’ve done so. And they weren’t too sane anymore, so there was that.

Their moment of peace got interrupted by shouts, belonging to the ninja. They didn’t budge, letting the noise fill the background. They knew Clancee would be sent to try and calm him, and if that didn’t work, the djinn would probably have to put him to sleep himself.

It seemed not needed for tonight, as it got quieter once again without hearing the voice of the captain complaining about the prisoner again.

He straightened when hearing some grunts. Pirates had been waken up by the screams, it seemed. Not that it was too surprising. He needed to go back to his place, and quickly.

What if it fails?

“Then we’ll find someone else to defeat Nadakhan.” It shrugged. “I don’t see any other way for this. Do you?”

Doubloon shook his head, before jumping down on the ‘lower deck’. He really didn’t understand the structure Nadakhan had come up with for this ship, but, as long as it worked, he’d do with it. He reached some barrels, and grabbed the sword he had hidden behind. Of the same handle- or at least the same color and form, so it was easy to manipulate, though a bit heavier then usual weapons. Something he knew Jacob would prefer if it had the choice.

He walked back right under the skeleton, and threw the weapon in the air. It caught it, swiftly, before throwing his old one overboard. It disappeared behind the clouds, plunging into the depths of the oceans. No sound echoed behind though, since they were still very high up.

He watched Jacob test the weight. It was amusing to Doubloon how well he could recognize people’s body language ever since being stolen from a voice. The old commander cackled. “Ye trust me with’ that, lad?”

Might as well go all the way. And with that, he walked away, returning to his post; no one could see him spending time with the skeleton, or the semi-built plan might as well be thrown overboard.

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Nadakhan didn’t think Jay would make it.

Doubloon was sent to check the wounds on the ninja’s back. He was mostly annoyed at having to do this task, since they all knew that this was useless.

But then he saw his chest rising.

Surprised, he took a step back. It was slow, but… it was there. That boy was breathing.

Now, he felt afraid. Of that ninja.

How could this be?

Not bothering to be careful, he turned the ninja on stomach, to check the back wounds. There were sounds of protests, some whines, when he did so, but by the Grand Sea, he could not care. And what he saw made him loose balance, for a slight second.

Some of the skin had grown back.

Which, should’ve been impossible. He should’ve been dead.

Especially after those lashes. Or at least, after getting humiliated that way, and taken like meat for the djinn’s sick satisfaction. And yet…

Yet, openings that usually took days for even a healthy body to heal, were already beginning the process here.

Now, it wasn’t healed or anything. Absolutely not. But he had seen his share of wounds, he knew how they were supposed to look like. And this?

This wasn’t natural.

Magic? He poked some of the wounds, fumbling with the skin to inspect the state. It wasn’t as deep as he remembered them to be.

His elemental power, maybe?

That didn’t make sense! Wasn’t he supposed to control lightning?

This wasn’t all; there were some marks there, that resembled those of his power. Like tree branches, it reached for the wounds- as if it were their leaves. The imagery made him shake his head in disbelief; this still couldn’t explain the sudden healing accelerated. It couldn’t.

Then where was that coming from?!

He wondered if someone could’ve sneaked in to maybe help the process? He couldn’t think of any potion, or what of, that healed wounds that fast. Plus, the fact that no one on this ship would want to see the boy alive anymore. That, and the fact that those were pirates, not really the brightest people in a room.

Magic. It’s magic. He despised it, but… there was no denying the truth.

That ninja wasn’t about to die any time soon. Not when Fate itself seemed ready to keep him alive.

Jacob had been right. He’d mostly be the one able to defeat the djinn.

Didn’t he need more help for that, then?

He checked above, if no one was around. The only pirates there were too busy playing some sort of daring game. Damn, he was about to miss someone lose their finger.

He went back in the cell, and hurried, reaching for some ointment he carried on his belt at all time. Something that helped with the pain. He had heard the screams, he knew how much he was hurting. This could help him ignore it all- or at the very least, also help him shut up for some time.

Doubloon was pretty tired of his screams of agony. It was fun to an extent, especially when he needed to sleep. He pushed his thumb inside, making sure it would reach the wound properly. The ninja whined, all the while, and, just for the fun of it, he made sure sometimes to use his nails, scratch and make the thing worst.

Unintentionally, his face turned into the one of laughter, as he watched the body twitch and try unconsciously to get away. It was fun.

This was at least owed to him since he was missing the gambling game.

He got back on his feet, watching the mess his ‘help’ had provoked. Some wounds had reopened, and his face was twisted in agony. But all too quickly, the expression was gone, as if something in his mind had appeared, relaxing him from the reality that trapped his body.

Doubloon’s face came back to one of anger, but instead of sticking around and finding out what could happen if one was to mess with some… great magic’s decisions, he used his staff to jump out of here, locking the cell behind and ready to call it a day.

Until he remembered he had to warn Nadakhan about that ninja’s state. His shoulders tensed; he could never catch a break, could he? Some screams came from his right, signaling him that one of the pirate playing had just lost, under the laughs of the people around them.

Dragging himself away from the fun, he wondered for a moment if he could lie to his captain. Or at the very least, not say the whole truth.

The djinn was bound to come and check the prisoner’s state himself at some point, wouldn’t he?

Noticing Clancee from afar, he gave him the keys of the cage, before going to the captain’s quarters.

Ay. Keep away that his wounds were healing. Simply warn that he was still alive.

------------------------------

“You ungrateful ingrates.”

Doubloon took a slight step back, feeling his monkey friend’s paw tighten hold on his shoulder.

None of them could really face the djinn when he was that angry. The shooter was always the only one to dare so. Without consequences, before. But now…

“Before you met me, you were all nothing!” He came closer to Flintlocke, his sword threatening and pulsing with magic. “I granted your wishes! I took you in! I made you the most feared pirates, that had ever roamed the sea!” He took a breath, probably forcing himself to not grit his teeth in anger. Closing his eyes, he placed a hand on his chest, acting solemn about his next words.

“So, I promise you this. Those who help me complete the Djinn marriage ceremony will receive everything they had ever dreamed of!”

“But how can we trust you?!” Flintlocke stomped his foot, clenching his fists at his side. Nadakhan’s eyes widened from what he just heard, but it didn’t stop there. It seemed like the first mate had had enough, especially with how he’d been treated a few days before, when the ninjas escaped. “With the powers of infinite wishes, it’s just as easy to get rid of us!”

A flash of pain passed on the other’s face, before quickly getting replaced by anger, avoiding to appear weak in front of his crew. He had always thought emotions brought weakness. Something Doubloon didn’t really have a problem with.

“…What are you accusing me of?”

“I guess what I’m gettin’ around to is…” He reached for his hip- for his gun. Oh no. This was stupid, foolish! Had he forgotten what happened? Had he forgotten the djinn’s abilities?!

“Consider this a mutiny!” He pointed his weapon at the djinn as he screamed the words.

Had he gone mad?!

The djinn chuckled, seemingly finding the outburst ridiculous, and yet on his features remained a form of rage almost palpable. “Oh, I see you’ve forgotten you can’t shoot straight.”

“Now- stop right there!” Sadness could be heard in his voice; it cracked it just a bit. Because he was betraying someone he had trusted with his life for years. Someone who had done the same, all before loosing all the people he’d been related to. But also, fear. So strong Doubloon wondered if the captain could smell it from where he was floating. “I’m- I’m not joking!”

“Go ahead!” He lowered his body, approaching his face even more, daring his old right hand to do it. The smoke under his body swirled faster, enhanced by his strong emotions- emotions he was so clearly trying to hide with his teasing to the other. “Let’s see what kind of an aim you have at point blank.”

A few seconds. Too long, with how thick the atmosphere had gotten.

Before he fired the shot.

Everyone gasped. Doubloon couldn’t help walking backwards, surprised by what actually happened.

The sound echoed in the skies, warning all the ships around of what had happened. The atmosphere was tense, as Nadakhan looked at his torso, face shocked at the daring move.

At that betrayal.

Then he laughed. It descended into something dark and sinister, as he approached Flintlocke, sword raised and body tense, no matter what he probably wanted people to believe.

Despite the proximity, the first mate kept missing. He fired again, and again. Until one final shot, that ricocheted against the armor.

Nadakhan didn’t waste more time, and slowly grabbed the gun with his hook. Flintlocke froze, looking at his hold in disbelief, as the djinn made his metallic limb slide alongside the weapon, before slowly reaching the fingers gripping it- so tight, Doubloon wouldn’t have been surprised to see his knuckles white under the gloves.

One by one, he slipped the tip under the fingers, guiding the man to let go of the gun. All too fast, it was done, and it clattered on the wooden floor. And while that distracted everyone, he stabbed through the hand with his hook, his lips twitching into a smile at the scream Flintlocke let go of.

He hummed, watching how he tried to remove his hand from the hold, but stopped as soon as his eyes met his captain’s. Nadakhan grinned, before sweeping over the crowd, his hook still firmly planted inside his old friend’s hand.

“Now, does anyone else have the stupidity to stand up to me?”

Everyone shook their heads. Most took a step back and avoided meeting the captain’s gaze, wanting to make it clear none of them wanted to end up like their ancient superior.

“I thought so.” He violently retrieved his hook, before straightening up, speaking without looking at his old friend. “Give him the mop, Clancee. You're no longer the bottom rung.” And with that, he floated away, back to his quarters. As if all of this had been but a simple inconvenience.

Not the betrayal of his closest friend.

The serpentine, with his head lowered, did as he was told, before turning away in shame to not face the expression that could be displayed on his friend’s face. People moved away from the scene, not wanting to try out their luck for the day.

Flintlocke looked at his hand all the while, watching the blood coming out and crashing on the ground below, still not quite believing what had just happened. Stuck in that state of shock.

Without a sound, Doubloon approached, and removed the glove. He inspected the hole that had been made, and reached for the healing supplies on his belt, attending to it. The former first mate didn’t say a thing, head still hanging low- though looking at his gun now, where some blood had fallen on it.

Monkey Wretch left while he did that, before he came back on his shoulder, handing a roll of bandage. Thanking him with a nod, he wrapped the palm, before patting it twice to signal he was done.

The other didn’t raise his head, but grumbled something, probably meant to thank him.

He left him there, walking to join Dogshank, the metallic monkey shifting nervously on his shoulder.

Would Flintlocke not have fired the shot, then maybe the djinn would’ve taken into consideration forgiving him. Forgetting this… simple mistake. Maybe even try to think of why his closest friend had decided to act that way, to the point where threatening him was his only option. Indulge in trying to see reason- something he hadn’t done since Djinjago had gotten destroyed.

It will never be enough.

His friend’s voice still ran crystal clear in his mind.

Doubloon knew those ancient thoughts were mostly guided by the idea of a captain he used to know. But that djinn was no more; it had left place to someone who had fallen into this spiral of insanity, of revenge- and pride, maybe? The two latter being ones that had doomed them once already.

His train of thoughts stopped when he reached Dogshank. She was looking up, her eyes full of something he couldn’t quite grasp. At the skeleton.

At Jacob.

She didn’t look at Doubloon while she spoke. “Nadakhan’s ordered me to kill’im. For good, this time.”

He placed his hand on her arm. Monkey Wretch used this as a bridge, to go and climb on her own shoulder, his presence enough for some kind of comfort despite the cold of his metallic skin.

“If ye’re gonna do it, do it now.” The skeleton cackled, rubbing its chin with its fingers. “Think of it as you ‘bout to get’me out of this ol’ mess.”

Her fists clenched, knuckles getting cracked under the pressure. But she didn’t say anything, before looking at Doubloon. Silently asking.

He nodded, and used his staff to reach next to the skeleton. He started to undo the ropes, stopping when cold fingers grabbed his wrist. It whispered. “Ye understand now?”

The pirate nodded, and completely detached the half corpse, before bringing it to her. A shuddering breath, as she took the pile of bones. And right as it was about to speak- or at least it was what its opened jaw meant to Doubloon- she crushed him in her hands. Reducing it to dust. Using all her strength to make this as quick and painless as she could- hoping it wouldn’t feel anything at all.

Because she was strong, and getting your body crushed under her force was never a pleasant feeling. She knew it; she had done it to others before.

The gray particles fell from between her hands, and she just- looked ahead. Her sniffles were quiet, but they both could hear it. Monkey Wretch patter her head, not sure how he was supposed to help her feel better. Doubloon watched them, making his staff turn in his hand to relax his nerves- a shitty attempt.

He looked at the dust lingering on the ground, hearing her now simply breath next to him, calmed now that the deed had been done.

“Those ninjas’ are done fo’.”

The feeling of urgency had never felt so strong in his mind.

How long before they were next?

----------------------------

“You were the one on patrol that night.”

Doubloon didn’t move. He didn’t even tighten his grip on his bamboo.

The captain was looking at maps and papers, discarded on his desk. His back showed to him how angry he was, because something had slipped his fingers. Someone had given that skeleton a weapon, making him loose the day the ninjas escaped. A sigh, then he turned around, looking at the old thief with a rage so strong, Doubloon felt glad he didn’t have a face to show off his defiance- something that would’ve ordered his death immediately.

“Are you sure you did not see anyone?” Nadakhan got close, too close to his face. It morphed into something dark, something he had seen him use before when interrogating prisoners, some centuries ago. Yet he didn’t move an inch. If the djinn was finally going to get rid of him, then he was prepared. He wasn’t scared anymore. And he was done pretending he would fall under a monster’s orders.

And the captain could sense that. Clearly.

The djinn scoffed. “You bastard.” The insult made a shiver run down his spin- the captain never cursed, no matter how mad he could get. Seems like I made him reach a certain point. His reaction made Nadakhan grin, sickeningly. “Since you seem useless on the Misfortune, you’ll go look for her.” He tapped his hook on his chin, thinking. “Start with villages we haven’t roamed yet, won’t you? Now get out.”

Without a word, he turned his back on the pirate, going for his papers again.

It seemed so easy to stab him. To reach for his heart.

But it wasn’t.

Doubloon turned around, exiting the room calmly.

He wasn’t scared of the djinn. Not anymore. Not since he saw the ninjas fight together to get their friend back. Not since he remembered why he had chosen to become a ninja before. Whether Nadakhan blamed him for helping the enemy or for being incompetent didn’t matter anymore.

They were all about to lose. But he’d make sure he’d lose the most.

He drove during the end of the day, knowing the clouds would be enough to hide him from the people below. For now.

There was an uneasy feeling, to come back here after all those years. More then three hundred years.

Landing a bit further from there, he hid his plane behind the edge of the biggest rocks he found, forcing him to go through the forest that somehow seemed as strong as it did all those years ago, despite growing on an unforgiving mountain like this. This hadn’t changed, at least. Though it seemed there were less trees then he remembered to be.

He cut the engine, taking what seemed like a deep breath- his lungs had at least expended more then usual. He’d have to hide, in there. To make sure no one would see him from even the corner of their eyes. He could do that, of course. But he had been curious of what had become of his village, but the chances for them to not be aware of what was happening with pirates were slim.

Each step felt heavier then the other, but he had no choice.

And what if those two kids were hiding in there? He was supposed to obey his captain, but he wouldn’t do that- he knew it well. There was no chance for him to back away from this path he’d chosen. One of personal spite with his old friend. If for that he needed to keep her hidden, then he would.

All too soon, he arrived near the houses, breaking his train of thoughts. He immediately joined the shadows, something that came easy to him with years of doing just that. Making sure to look around the paths, and any unusual behaviors. Listening to the talks. Trying to figure out if someone was hiding there. Someone that wasn’t supposed to be living here- anything. But to his relief, there was none.

So after that, he walked around, hands behind his back holding his staff as he appreciated the view of the sunset on his old village.

Jamanakai village.

…It hadn’t really changed. Which didn’t seem too odd; this place had never been known for breaking traditions, nor did it have the resources for it. Lots of snow had fallen, despite this being the end of a warm season.

He stopped when he recognized a structure; a small house. This one, was at the very edge of the village, just like all of his armed companions’ homes used to be. It was made so, in case there would be an attack. Which happened too often in this place.

He hadn’t minded though. He liked fighting. He always wondered if he had liked it for protecting those he loved, or if this had to do with getting his knuckles bloodied, as the person he would punch begged for mercy. See them bleed, for even thinking of wanting to raid his home, and thinking they could defeat him.

…He wasn’t really wondering then, more so in denial of the truth. Maybe his first master regretted teaching anything to him now. But he had been a good student at the time, a kid ready to make his father proud as he decided to take up arms.

His head perked up at the sound of children laughing. He saw two kids playing in the snow in the front yard of his… the old house.

He wondered if they were… of his blood. Or if his daughter had decided to move away when he didn’t come back from one of his last heists. He wouldn’t blame her for that.

He guessed he had to die before finding out.

This was a nice thought, wasn’t it? Dying would allow him to see those he had left behind without ever wanting to. Did they know? Or did they erase him from their memories afterwards? His shoulders tensed as he thought about this.

If the Emperor hadn’t demanded those payments, he would’ve never left.

He clenched his fists.

They were lucky to no longer have power over Ninjago, or have any descendant still alive. Else most of the crew and him would’ve had… some things to discuss. Make them pay, for what they did. It was no wonder piracy had peaked during those times. Maybe this had made Nadakhan see an opportunity, when he’d been banished to their world. Offering those damn wishes…

And to think, I only got to make one.

He walked away from the house, from the village, toward his ship, staying hidden, ensuring no panic would happen when seeing him.

She wasn’t here anyway. He guessed Nadakhan would have to wait a bit longer.

His mind smirked at the upcoming frustration.

-------------------------------------

“Why are you even helping Nadakhan?! He cursed you to be that- thing!”

He played with his staff, watching the boy panic and looking out for any of his possible next moves. Which was pretty hard, when the enemy didn’t display anything for that. He truly enjoyed seeing him hesitate, and hurried, hoping to save his friend. For the right reasons; Dogshank was furious, since killing Jacob. She wouldn’t play nice this time. And he really wanted to see what she would do.

But alas, he had to take care of that ninja before. Though his words weren’t wrong, and they were having a kind of effect- his stance must’ve betrayed him, if the hopeful blue eye was anything to go by.

“You had one chance at surprising me, but you failed!” Nadakhan opened his palms, sword dangling from where he grasped the handle between his fingers- unbothered, and taunting. Something that seemed careless, that he now knew to be the most dangerous. “I suppose you are used to succeeding the first time, are you not? Now you don’t really know what you will do.”

He was right. He had never failed before. This seemed foreign, but he was good at beating people at their own games. He had said something before, hadn’t he? Spoken of what he was. Another being. Not from their world. “Well then.” He licked his lips, enjoying the idea that sparked at the end of his brain. “You are a djinn, you said? A creature that grants people’s wishes?”

The captain quirked an eyebrow, suddenly very interested in his words. He scoffed, getting his sword back at his side, and crossed his arms, eyes aware of what he was thinking, and amused about it, already expecting his wish. “Indeed.”

“Then I wish for you to never know what I’m planning next!”

A silence echoed, from the crew around. Broken by the solemn nod of the djinn, and his chuckle.

“Your wish, is yours to keep.”

He had lost everything, that day. Hadn’t he? But he had realized it was for the better. He’d never been a good man. This had allowed him to join his pairs, and find his place among the ones ruling the seas.

In a way, Nadakhan had given them everything, yes.

Because he had been the one to take it away from them in the first place.

The ninja’s eye drifted away, and it brought him back- he really had to stop letting his thoughts and memories take over that way. Or was it that life flashing before his eyes took this much of a time?

Because he was destined to die, now. He knew it. Perhaps sooner then he’d thought.

“Whatever you do, don’t push that lever!”

He turned around, confused, and saw what he was speaking of. Doubloon deadpanned inside. Did he think he was stupid?! Was ‘idiot’ the thing that had been left painted on his semi-porcelain face?

If he had a mouth, he would’ve sighed. He looked at the ninja, but shook his head, pushing the lever.

“Thanks!”

Yeah. You’re welcome. He really hoped putting their hopes of getting rid of the djinn on someone so young wouldn’t backfire on him like it had on Jacob. Else he didn’t see how anyone could get rid of that monster.

-----------------------------------------

His face was still dripping red through the cracks. Much less then when the wound had first been formed, but still. He hadn’t even been aware that his painted face could get- shattered, that way. It had always felt unbreakable, in a way. He had gotten so many punches there, it had never once gotten that way. He wasn’t even aware he could bleed there.

Then again, Monkey Wretch had also seemed unbreakable throughout the years. And he knew where all that got him.

They had forgotten how strong the djinn was. They had underestimated him again.

Wasn’t that how he got stuck here in the first place? How was he repeating the same mistakes?

Although this time, things were different. His other friends were safe now, hopefully. Until Nadakhan would decide to hunt them down. He hoped they had done the right thing, and ran away in the places he had written down. Else all of this would’ve been for nothing.

Wouldn’t that be a shame. Too bad pirates were known to be stubborn.

Some cold came in, hitting his wounds. A single drop of blood fell on the ground, joining the dried puddle there. But he really didn’t mind. It proved he was still a bit human, didn’t it? Physically, at least. On the inside, he supposed his mind wasn’t too far from his old captain’s. If he exaggerated some bit.

He heard the door of his cage getting opened, but didn’t react. No one other then the king visited his poor person, so he knew who to expect. It wasn’t like he was to get food either, with his faces.

The djinn was the only one allowed down here he supposed. The only one allowed to torture him.

“I trust you’re enjoying your time down there.”

His voice would’ve made him gritted his teeth, if he still had a mouth that he could move. So he didn’t budge, limp in the chains that were holding his hands a bit higher above his head. If it had been anyone else, they would’ve thought he was dead. But Nadakhan knew better.

“I know I can’t trust you anymore. You want me dead.”

Venom was dripping from the words. So thick, it was a wonder words couldn’t be something he felt at the tip of his fingers. Double-crossed you at the end, didn’t I? He wanted to laugh. After all these years, he had finally managed to do the one thing he hadn’t been able to when first meeting Nadakhan.

Instead, he didn’t react, looking at the floating form of the djinn from his hanging head. If he had eyes, he would’ve narrowed them at the monster. Because he could see something behind his look. An idea, that made the slight twitches of his lips appear, as they turned upwards.

“But, I do know things that would interest you now.”

Oh. This sounded genuine. He straightened up, showing to the djinn that he was now listening.

“There is still an imperial family left in Ninjago.”

He got up in an instant, his chains rattling with his fast movement.

What?

The satisfied smirk on the djinn’s face made him recoil, ashamed at how quickly he had reacted to this. He didn’t look away though, waiting for more information. What was done, was done. He couldn’t hide the interest he had in those information.

Nadakhan hummed, satisfied with his reaction. “I was planning on sending a group of pirates to take them down. I wanted Dogshank to lead them, but, well… you know how that is.” A flash of anger passed through his features as he said her name.

An unmistakable sadness, as well.

Yes. They were friends. All of them. Well, used to be. Despite the curse, he had found friendship and camaraderie with the other pirates, especially Monkey Wretch, the both of them cursed by the captain to never have human words out of their mouths again. At least his mechanic friend could express noises they managed to understand throughout the years.

People couldn’t even hear if he was breathing or not, all traces of holes out of the painting.

Yet, he had liked Nadakhan. As a great friend. Despite being the cunning, asshole, pampered prince that he was, they still shared tons of common grounds. Their love for violence, gold, and fights that built an adrenaline so high it would seem like they were taking over the world in those very moments. When, after a strong drink, they would dance, sing to their hearts’ content, ending up spilling secrets and desires on the old days of the Misfortune’s Keep.

More so listening, in his case.

Or even, when they would spare together. Especially when he would do so with the captain, because, despite spending his youth training with some of the best ninjas, he had never been seen as something else then… a simple human, compared to those that mastered elements. But the djinn had never done so, even praising their race for the wonders they could do. Calling this world something else, he had been glad to fall upon.

…But he never comprehended when to stop. When there would be a limit. Twice, now. Delara had managed to calm him down, in a way. Flintlocke had gladly given up his role on the ship for her, because she was good at it, and because she was keeping the captain in check, somehow.

And he had been friends with her as well. She had been an amazing pirate at the time. But she hadn’t been enough, and the captain made sure that his closest crew sunk down with the ship.

And now, she had changed as well when she came back.

It did hurt to think she hadn’t even come down here to see him. At least to taunt him. Something he knew she’d love to do. But he supposed she had better things to do, didn’t she. Such as being alive again. Or being at his side.

No one would ever try to stop the djinn now, he knew it.

He had to die. They both did. And after this, Doubloon would take his own life away as well. Give it back to whatever twisted mind had given him this fate, and pay for all the things he had done and still did not regret.

“I thought maybe, you could take the lead for this one.”

Doubloon tilted his head, showing he was listening.

Nadakhan opened his upper palms. “One last time. I will be gifting you this bit of freedom. The family is composed of the two rulers, and a princess. It will be your destiny to end their bloodline. I might even let you go there on your own!” His face morphed into something darker as he continued. “But after this? You’re coming back here, and I’ll be the one cutting your head off.” He shrugged. “Or maybe toy with you a bit more. It really depends on the mood I’ll be in.”

The deal seemed interesting enough for the thief. He considered the pros and cons, and really, there seemed to be more pros. Because, after he killed this cursed bloodline, he would be able to run away from the djinn and his madness, in places he still remembered reading about in the scrolls and maps, that even Nadakhan had no idea of.

Until, of course, the djinn would find them all. Or use his wishes.

He wondered if he had ever tried learning their language, or if he still had someone else to do this for him.

Nevertheless, if he couldn’t make it out, and the djinn found him, he would welcome death with open arms. He didn’t care about dying. It was what made his life the most interesting. This thin line on which he was holding, about to break at any moment… a pleased shudder passed through his spine.

Nadakhan must’ve seen something flickering in his dull eyes, because he smiled, showing off his teeth. “Good. I am so glad you’re considering this unique opportunity.”

Two keys were thrown at his feet. Then a paper; a map. As much as he wanted to, he resisted the urge to throw himself at those. He had already shown too much to his former friend.

“Leave whenever you want.” And without turning his head back, he added. “I will see you soon, Doubloon.”

With that, the djinn closed the door of this make-shift prison, locking it twice. Letting seconds pass to be sure he wouldn’t come back, Doubloon crouched, reaching for the keys. They were simple; one for his shackles, the other for the door that had just been closed, since his cage had been left open.

He got rid of the first ones, quickly, and finally allowed himself to erase some of the blood traces that were left on his mask. It didn’t seem to go away, but he didn’t change the head. He couldn’t see a point in that, since he knew his time was up now.

‘See you soon.’ His shoulders shook with an invisible laugh as he picked up the map, and placed it inside his belt. You’ll have to wish for that, Nadakhan.

He played with the keys in his hand, approaching the door. Not wasting time, he opened it, facing two pirates that had probably been placed in here to watch over him. Is he scared of me then?

Didn’t that make it interesting? They rushed to him, swords ready. And without any weapon at hand, he beat them, taking his time to do so. First, disarming them, like a ninja. Then, using their own weapons against them, like a pirate. He gutted them open, keeping their swords. They were well crafted, and probably rarely used inside the castle.

But he’d need them for what he had planned. He didn’t want to waste more time with this.

---------------------------------

Escaping the castle had been simple.

Now the quest, was to reach the ground, and find those royals. He stole a ship- killed those that had been supposed to keep an eye on it, and flew below. If the captain had deemed their lives worthy, he wouldn’t have left them to keep an eye on’em. Nadakhan had spoken of pirates he could lead as well, but he didn’t want to. He only wanted to get his hands warm, under their blood. He wouldn’t share that with anyone else.

With his old friends, maybe. But that was not… possible.

He really hoped they had found a place to hide.

Going through the clouds, he laid back in his seat, engaging the automatic pilot. At the very least, the technology had advanced the years he’d been banished. In his time, Monkey Wretch had been the most sophisticated piece of technology anyone had ever faced.

A metallic monkey? Working by the power of some kind of raw energy?

Nadakhan had said that his home-world had possessed such wonders. Doubloon didn’t doubt it; the captain was smart, but not that kind of smart. He would’ve never come up with the idea on his own.

The city slowly appeared before his eyes. He frowned; if the djinn had found out about the emperors, he supposed that meant they hadn’t hidden well lately. Why was that? They used to be ones to avoid any sort of confrontation. Had they decided to act ‘properly’? Or had they no choice?

Either way, he wouldn’t stick around to find out. He got the map out, watching for possible entrance.

Their castle was hidden, surrounded by multiple buildings- tall enough to hide something so majestic in a sort of circle, probably to make sure the citizens didn’t even notice such a place right in the middle of their city. Cowards. Trying to hide away. He supposed these people never truly changed.

Had there been a revolt of some sort? That forced them to hide away like this? Somehow still taunting by letting their resting palace right under the citizens’ noses.

He took back the wheel, removing the automatic pilot.

Doubloon couldn’t wait to feel their blood on his hands.

Entering the castle was a more complicated task.

Needing to hide his ship away, he noticed a crater, not too far, meaning most people had probably evacuated the area. He didn’t trust that thought too much, but he didn’t really have any other spots to try and somewhat hide the plane. Once on the ground, he grabbed both swords he had retrieved earlier, cursing himself for not thinking of bringing some kind of cape to help him infiltrate a guarded castle in broad daylight.

He had to take those weird alleys, in order to even get close to those grand doors drawn on the map. Nadakhan had done a good job for that, if that had even been his doing. When in front of it, he climbed the wall, helping himself with some of the houses that had been built with designs he used to see all around him before. He couldn’t really tell if they were new, or as old as him. Maybe.

On top of the wall, he watched around.

Nadakhan was right. There were definitely important people hiding in there.

A part of him had thought, maybe the djinn had played him, ready to appear right next to him, to make him realize that this had been nothing but a trick, for all the treachery moves Doubloon had done to him or what else. But apparently not.

There were guards. A great number of them. And he was no fool, he knew he would never get past them, if he wanted to reach this imperial family unharmed.

Placing delicately his hand on the handle of his sword, he thought of another way in. The bridge behind the grand doors was guarded, but maybe… he could use the bricks on the side of it to stay hidden, and reach the main entrance.

This was, if they stayed distracted enough to not see him climb down the other side of those doors.

It was risky, but it was worth the try.

He went ahead, hurrying to get down. It seemed like those guards weren’t too professional, nothing in comparison to the ones he used to know; infiltrating the castle had been impossible at the time.

He would know, since he had tried.

But this was a different time. A different castle. When people probably didn’t even know of their existence, and where emperors and empresses forced themselves behind these very walls he climbed down.

That idea didn’t really get any weaker when he noticed another wall ahead.

Perhaps they did not even get out of there. That would’ve been amusing.

He reached the end of the bridge, feeling his muscles a bit sore at the effort. Climbing back up, and hiding behind a pillar, he looked at his shaky hands. Remembering old techniques, he clenched them, letting his eyes close- or at least something close to it, since everything went black around him. This kind of focus usually demanded one to listen to their breath, but he couldn’t really do that, so he counted in his head instead, until his limbs were back under his control.

He opened his eyes, and looked at the doors. He couldn’t get through here, meaning he had to climb again if he wanted to reach them.

Doubloon shook his head, but tried to lift his spirits up somehow; it was not the worst he had done in his life so far, or so he hoped.

He caught the irregular stones and bricks, and climbed again, hoping those guards were still too stupid to watch where he was. He reached the top quickly, only to get slapped in the face, both by the sight of yet another bridge before what he hoped to be the final main doors, and the strong wind that had started to grow.

This last one wasn’t normal.

He looked behind him, and up, seeing some dark clouds starting to form. His eyes would’ve widened at the sight, especially when seeing they were aiming for where he had come from.

The new Djinjago.

“Hey!”

He looked down, at the second bridge he had yet to cross. Of course, he hadn’t been the only one to notice the clouds, nor feel the electricity building up. Which meant they were looking up, and could see him right where he was. On top of the wall.

Damn it. He supposed it had been only a matter of time before he had to reach for his weapons. At least it meant no more forcing on his muscles for more climbing.

He jumped down, getting both swords ready. They gasped, before taking positions.

Defensive, so far.

He tilted his head, popping his bones. He wondered if they had any experience at all. Could he present himself as someone with more then three hundred years in the fighting art? It did feel good to think of it that way.

Doubloon rushed to them the moment he saw some sort of hesitance. Of course, they didn’t expect it, blocking before losing their hands with the second sword they had probably forgotten for the first guard. He left them there, enjoying their pleas and cries of pain as he turned towards another one, aiming for his neck. A good place, if one knew how to pull it off.

Which, this guard didn’t.

And the more he fought them, the more he realized they probably did not have any form of experience.

Or proper training.

Oh.

They were not good at fighting. Not at all.

Not at all!

He felt the familiar feeling of his shoulders shaking with a strong laugh, perhaps reverberating inside muscles he might’ve kept after that curse.

They were terrible! This was way too fun!

A final gift from Destiny, perhaps? Why, they shouldn’t have!

He slashed through them, remembered of the way he had trained with his very first katana, slicing through targets made out of the strongest bamboo his teacher could find. Impressing every one, of his swift movements, and how quick he had been able to learn.

He had been the best, before those elemental masters were brought to the Monastery.

Blood painted his face, his clothes- he wasn’t even wearing armor, but they were.

They were pathetic.

All too soon, he had gotten rid of them. They laid there, lifeless, some still barely breathing, ready to join the Departed Realm soon enough, no doubt.

Turning his head back into one of anger- he hadn’t noticed it had turned to the one of laughter before coming back from that rush of adrenaline- he kept going through that final bridge, quickly reaching the doors of the palace.

If they had at least a good surveillance system, they’d see that he had killed all those guards. Which meant they’d try to hide the imperial family as quickly as possible.

He couldn’t waste time anymore.

The doors weren’t even locked. He rushed in, arriving in some sort of throne room, the gold and emeralds almost blinding him. It was disgusting to look at.

There wasn’t anyone there, though.

Aside from a man, that emerged from behind, hidden almost as well as Doubloon.

But he saw him at the last seconds, allowing him to parry the sword easily enough- though he had to use both his swords for this.

The man had an eye-patch, proof that he at least got into some good fights prior to this one. An armor, of gold, something that seemed a bit too much for the pirate’s liking.

He took a step back, face stern and severe as he pointed his large sword at Doubloon.

“Whoever you are, you will regret stepping foot within these sacred walls.”

Sacred? Here?! Due to what? All the gold that dripped through the walls? Those thrones, bigger then anything those emperors had ever dreamed to achieve?

Nothing here was sacred.

And he’d make sure to taint the right colors to prove as much.

Starting with this man’s blood.

He took an offensive; he didn’t want to waste time with such an imbecile, that bothered him enough for his muscles to tense. Or perhaps this was an aftereffect of all the climbing and fighting he had done, still yearning for a proper rest at some point.

Not now. This guard wasn’t like the others. Older, and more capable. So much so, he did put some challenge to the ex-ninja. A cut was made to his side, and in exchange, Doubloon gifted him a slice on his shoulder. There was a scream, but he didn’t look at the wound, instead pulling on his arm to continue fighting despite the horrible pain.

It was honorable. But useless.

A few more slashes, and blocks, before finally, Doubloon got rid of the sword in his hand, and planted his sword in his stomach. The man gasped, his lone eye widening in both surprise, and pain.

Doubloon turned his wrists, feeling things inside the man getting entangled with his iron. Blood exploded out of his wound, some out of his mouth, before he felt him go limp in his arms, like a heavy weight.

To make sure he had killed him, he raised his other hand, holding his second sword, and planted it in his back, right through his heart. The body jolted, twice, before it truly died, and got heavier then before.

A good opponent, yet not enough to face Doubloon.

Pathetic.

He threw the dead weight to the side, giving it a few kicks to make sure he was dead. Then screamed inside of him; he hadn’t thought of trying to get answers out of him, to know where the family might’ve been hiding.

But then he relaxed; there was no way they had gotten too far. That, and Doubloon doubted he’d make himself understood without any voice.

A gasp made him whip his head around.

He tilted his head; right there, there was what looked like a member of the royal family. A woman, he supposed, with a hand in front of her mouth as she looked down on who had been ordered to protect them. Then, her gaze focused on Doubloon, and he would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t felt any joy at how she shook in his presence.

She seemed young. A princess, perhaps.

She bolted out of here, to one of the corridors. She was very fast, despite the robes and heavy clothes she had been wearing. He followed, not running as fast as he could, letting some distance to enjoy the chase more.

And he was rotten for that, wasn’t he? If he had this much adrenaline building up when chasing after such a young princess- it made it better for him, that they would struggle.

He was a monster. And he loved it.

After a short moment, he reminded himself that she was probably not his main target, so he hurried, and caught her robe to make her trip. He got his sword out, readying a strike, but his blow was stopped by her letting a dagger out of the many layers of silks.

Impressive. He had not seen that coming.

As he showed his second sword, she gasped, but instead of seeing the fear like he had earlier, her eyes turned harsh, and cold. She gritted her teeth, as she pushed against the sword, her eyes shifting between watching out for the other sword, and the one that threatened to force her own weapon against her throat. She was using both hands to assure its place, but it soon wouldn’t be enough. She was strong, but not as much as him.

“If you’re here to kill the Imperial family, you got the wrong person.”

He wanted to chuckle. But his face didn’t shift. There was something, in those eyes. Something he hadn’t seen in anyone else in a long time.

The look of someone who’d fight for their life, no matter what. The look of someone who had already lost everything,

He tilted his head, lowering his free sword, but didn’t falter his strength against the dagger. Showing he was listening, now.

“I know about your crew. I know piracy has been enforced by the previous emperor of your time! Y- your crew is reported in archives, and history books! You were the most dangerous pirates of your time-!”

He pushed a bit more on the dagger, urging her to hurry. He didn’t have time for false flattery from her.

“I’m- I’m not their real daughter!” She panicked, yet her face stayed with hard eyes. “You think I would’ve chosen being part of this fucking filthy family if I had a choice?! I looked like the Empress, that’s why they chose me! I didn’t have a say in this! I want them dead as much as you do!”

Well, he had no idea what the empress looked like. He couldn’t really agree on that.

But if she was adopted, it meant she wasn’t of their blood. Killing her would be useless.

But fun nonetheless.

As he made his final choice, she gasped, watching him tighten his hold on his weapons. So she hurried. “I’ll show you where they escaped!” She swallowed when he stopped, and some of the resistance left her dagger- but she didn’t try to push him away. She wasn’t stupid enough to do so. “How’s that?”

He was having too much fun with this. She spoke of resenting people that must’ve given her a new chance at life, a more wealthy one. Then again, he thought of spending his entire life imprisoned in a castle, being stripped of any free will, when it seemed like she had been living outside before. She did speak of not having a choice after all.

That added up.

She could’ve been lying, of course. But eyes betrayed people more often then not- a reason his had been removed and replaced by plain black paint.

And if she tried to kill him?

She’d never be good enough to pull it off.

He removed his sword, and got on his feet, watching her take a deep breath in. One of her hand shakily reached for her throat, wanting to check if it was still there, and if she hadn’t dreamed of his pity.

Under her white bangs and eyelashes, she sent him a dirty look, but nodded.

“Follow me, I’ll show you.” She got up, dusting her robe as if it still mattered in that moment, and guided the pirate to where he needed to be, trying to not think too hard of the point of the sword between her shoulder-blades. If he saw her sweating, he didn’t say anything about it.

In fact, she hadn’t heard him at all.

Not even breath.

She shivered, but kept her head straight, intending on fulfilling her promise to the assassin. She hated those people she had been forced to call ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’, because they had decided so for her. The opportunity to get rid of them forever was nothing but pleasant, even if it meant helping one of the people that had been destroying their home.

Even if it had never truly felt like home since losing her real parents, and getting to that orphanage.

She gestured to a pillar, in a grand corridor. All the while, Doubloon had internally sneered at the decorations and exaggerated jewelry and such hanging everywhere on these walls and tables. He had even seen some kind of ancient red mask, far from pretty in his opinion, but no doubt ancient, and brought up some centuries ago by the ones that had doomed their people.

On that pillar, she pushed a design on the side- turning out to be some sort of button. It made a clicking sound, letting a door display itself, sliding down to reveal stairs.

“Down this way, you’ll meet the end of their own escape tunnel.” She smirked, and now that he saw that sadistic glimpse, he recognized her genuine hatred for them. And appreciated every moment of it.

Not that it made him lower his guard; it meant she could just as easily back-stab him.

She turned around, looking at him with a sour smile. “I wanted to be the one to kill them, but if this means I get to live longer to have my own plan going, then I don’t really care.”

He nodded. He could understand. He approached the stairs, feeling some wind coming out. Which meant there was an exit at some point, at the end of the tunnel.

“I like your mask.”

Looking back at her, he took a second to contemplate her own make-up. It was a bit smeared, probably from her fall earlier, maybe even from her hands brushing it when she had pushed his sword away.

A mask of her own, that she needed in order to pretend correctly in here.

Unintentionally, his face switched to one of laughter. She gasped, but didn’t back away. No. Instead, it looked as if her eyes were filled with wonder, and curiosity.

His shoulders shook, and before she could say anything else, he ran in there, hurrying in hope to find the Imperial couple, and end what was left from this filthy blood.

The path was narrow, and poorly lit, with a lamp every few meters to assure whoever was escaping that they were on the right track. Everything was made out of poorly cut stones, perhaps in a hurry, or thinking they’d never be used. Maybe the main escape entrance they had used was in a better state? He wasn’t sure, but wondering about those things did make the route quicker.

Hushed voices soon made it to him. He slowed down, readying his swords better as he sneakily approached them.

His heart skipped a beat.

Now those were emperors. Cowardly making a flight out of here, abandoning people so they could shield them from the danger aiming at them. Because of their actions.

Just like the princess, they wore robes, many jewels and such, affirming a wealthy and comfortable way of life. But for who’s eyes? Their guards? That one capable man that he had defeated earlier? Old emperors and empresses adorned themselves to show their place to their people. To make them understand that they were the ones to rule, their superiors. Whether they liked it, or not.

The latter being the grand majority if not everyone’s idea.

Those royals? They were a joke.

And there wasn’t even room to laugh at it, even if he wanted to.

Every good laugh had to come to an end.

His face switched back to one of anger, as he walked on them, slowly, pulling out the old ninja coming out of the darkness trick. One of his favorites.

And he had to give credit when due; they didn’t scream, when seeing him. They gasped, the empress putting a hand on her mouth as she pulled on her husband’s robes, urging him to back away. But he didn’t, glaring at the one that had apparently sworn their demise. Despite seeing him with pirates’ clothing, dirtied and full of blood- on his face and swords, as well.

Doubloon tilted his head. As courageous as the man wanted to pretend to be, he could see the sweat, and the shake of his limbs when he threatened them with a single step forward.

But he could see it in their eyes; they knew their fate was sealed. The emperor had some hope, but the empress knew that it was over. Tears were falling down her face, as she wept silently. For something precious he was about to take away.

And they probably didn’t even know why he had decided to kill them. But he couldn’t care less.

He raised his swords, and swiftly cut their heads. A way of execution that had been used for centuries by rulers before them.

-------------------------------

He got out of the castle. Content, for the first time in a while.

Whoever had said killing wasn’t a means to one’s end had probably never tried it out.

Or maybe, they had never been as desperate as he was.

I’ll see you soon.

He looked up, seeing the sky covered in darkness. Bright flashes kept on flickering, with a strong thunder rumbling every now and then. So much so, there was no way for anyone to observe whatever would be behind. Such as Djinjago.

He had an inkling he wasn’t about to see his captain again. Ever again.

At least the plan had worked.

He sheathed his swords, and walked back, using the bridge, kicking the corpses on his way, not even bothered to avoid the puddle of blood he had left behind. He pushed the doors open, to the first bridge, only to see it empty, evacuated probably at the sight of such a violent storm.

Maybe he should do the same.

Leaving behind red footprints, he opened the final doors, and walked back to his ship. It seemed like no one had touched it, and spared by lightning as well.

He raised his sword, and planted it in the engine. Twice. Making sure it would be completely useless. Once this was done, he stabbed the control panel, hearing the electricity buzzing in pain because of it.

And with that, he walked away.

He wasn’t sure where he’d go, but life had a thing for throwing him into the shittiest situations.

At least he wouldn’t get bored. With enough chance, he’d still be free to do whatever he wanted.