"Where am I? This world seems... vaguely familiar, but I swear I've never seen it before."
A white-haired man had washed ashore like a dead fish, and his unimpressive eyes made the comparison more striking. As the sun's rays combed the ocean's surface, the sea wet his disheveled locks. The rest of him was dressed like a homeless man in a filthy white shirt, holed socks, and torn black jeans, which wasn't far from the truth. In his 17 years of living with a curse, he'd been ripped from every place he'd called home and thrust into new, unfamiliar environments that invalidated his efforts to stably exist.
"I wonder what abilities I have..." Celain mused, oblivious to the crowded market town behind him until he picked himself off the beach and wandered inland. However damp he was, his voice was thoroughly dry and his eyes were set in his pale skin like a grave, not blinking at the sight of other humans like a typical castaway.
When panicked people ran past him at the approach of pillaging pirates, he just stood there. A woman bumped into him, dropped an apple from her bag and scooped it off the pavement before resuming her flight. He stared after her, questioning why she'd taken the time while running for her life. That was when a strong arm connected with the back of his neck and floored him.
"You're more resilient than you look if that didn't knock you out," acknowledged the muscled, bearded ruffian who'd assaulted him. He drew his cutlass and swung it down on Celain, who gathered his sprawled limbs in time to roll out of the way.
"Oh... am I being attacked?" he asked, not realizing the danger he was in. "Why did you strike me first? If you were trying to kill, you should've cut off my head while I wasn't looking."
"I'm a hardened pirate who loves seeing victims suffer," the rogue answered, winding back his arm for another swipe. This time, the white-haired man didn't dodge, cower, or brace himself. He simply sat there and blankly eyed his foe like a child gazing at a zoo animal behind a glass pane.
But in the next instant, the aggressor shattered. A Marine was suddenly crouched before him, resisting the blade's drive and reversing its course with his sword, creating enough room to rise to his feet and overwhelm the villain. The offender stumbled back, taking a second to regain his poise and adjust his approach, but the officer seized the opportunity, rushed past his unsteady weapon, and delivered a crushing blow to the man's sternum. He followed it up with a full-powered kick, knocking the wind out of him and sending him hurtling into a brick wall, where he crashed and crumpled in a heap.
"You okay, kid? You should've gotten out of the way or something," the Marine advised. "Pirate crews are active in these parts, and most people have the sense to run."
The phrases fell on deaf ears. The law enforcer's tips to stay alive were wasted on a boy who was dead inside—if not for his curiosity, which the man had piqued with two words.
"What are pirate crews?" the white-haired drifter asked.
"Huh? They're groups of bad people who travel the seas, raze villages, plunder innocent civilians, and kill without remorse," he replied. "Some of them are insanely strong and not the kind you'd want to cross."
"Hmm..." Celain considered. He was stranded in an alien world, ignorant of its customs, his powers, and how to move up in it. If these seafaring vagabonds were as tough as the Marine described, then the quickest way to hone his skills was to enter their fold. "I'll start a pirate crew, then. You're strong, so join me."
"Kid..." his savior uttered in disbelief, the uncomfortable word sneaking from his lips and avoiding the dead stare suggesting he was serious. "Did you hit your head that bad? Pirates are evil, and if you became one, you'd be my enemy. Besides, I couldn't set sail even if I wanted to. I have a loving wife and daughter here who need me, right down the street."
The officer pointed at a quaint little home, tucked safely behind a white picket fence and spared the onslaught.
"So I can't accept your offer," he answered, turning away and looking over his shoulder one last time. "But you stay out of trouble."
The Marine took off, diving back into the fray and leaving Celain in peace. He knew exactly what to do now.
"I understand..." he muttered. "I understand completely..."
