A thick fog rolled over the still waters of the cold Arctic Ocean off the coast of Northern Russia. Small chunks of ice floated atop the waves and bumped into the hull of the ship as it skimmed through the water. A man with shaggy blonde hair shivered on the bow of the ship, he was wrapped in a black cloak with the hood up and had his hands buried under his arms for warmth. He jumped as the fog horn blared.

The horn was blown every few leagues in case there was another ship out here that they might run into but it was highly unlikely. No one in their right minds would be out here at this time of night and anyone who was had strict rules they had to follow, along with special written permission from all twelve of the delegates from the Paranormal, Superstition and Mythical branches. Meaning Arthur had a heavy piece of parchment with 36 signatures and seals on it carefully stuffed in his pocket.

Arthur had trained almost religiously in order to catch up with his childhood friends, Vladimir and Lukas. Now he was finally taking the last step to becoming a Wizard, however it was also the most dangerous. It was a well-known fact that the women he was about to meet was a Monster of the First Degree, she could kill someone with the smallest of touches, and just last month a ship carrying Fledgers, students like Arthur, had come to meet her but only a few of the body guards, the captain and first mate managed to survive.

The worst part of it was that no one knew what had set her off in the first place.

Heavy footsteps thudded against the deck and echoed into the night. A man with a stern face, long blonde hair combed back with a single thin braid on each side and blue eyes, came to stand beside Arthur. His name was Gerhart or something like that but Arthur didn't really know because all the other Fledgers called him Legolas.

"Scared?"

"A bit," Arthur's voice shook, he swallowed thickly. The Fledger wasn't normally so open and willing to show fear but given the situation, he figured it was best to be as honest as possible with the man that would be protecting him. Gerhart rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. It was somehow unnerving that the simple gesture made it seem like Gerhart could read Arthur's mind and sort him out so easily.

However, the gesture was also reassuring because it said 'yes, I'm here and yes, I will do everything I can to protect you and no, I'm not leaving'.

In all honesty Arthur would have preferred for that hand to have been laid on his shoulder but he knew Gerhart wasn't a touchy person. Still it would have made him feel better. There was no time to dwell on the lost sentiment as a sudden powerful wind blasted Arthur's hood back off his head; his cloak whipped around his ankles, and cleared the fog to encircle them along with another ship.

The wind died just as suddenly.

"We're here," Gerhart announced unnecessarily. The other ship was made of wood and had nine giant, dark red sails; the entire ship was painted a deep inky black. Arthur guessed the captain was trying to make it as dark as Satan's soul. There was no flag flying but even so, it was obvious that this had once been an actual pirate ship but now it was a floating cage, admittedly chosen by the captive, which no longer had a purpose, but to be anchored here and used as the last pit stop for aspiring students.

As their boat came around to the starboard side of the pirate ship, Arthur saw the name of it painted on the back in blood red; Pestilence. His blood froze and something at the back of his mind tried to click together but failed. The captain of their ship came out and, with the help of some of the crew, lassoed a few ropes onto the barrels of the cannons on deck the Pestilence.

A wide board was than heaved over and set on top of the railings of both ships; creating a sort of bridge.

Arthur's legs shook and fear closed its hand around his throat. It was hard for him breathe and his chest ached with how hard his heart was beating against it and his lungs couldn't seem to take in enough oxygen. Panic was stalking him. He fought for it but Arthur drew in a steadying breath and forced himself to remember his training with elements.

Center yourself in the here and now, don't think of what could be only of what is happening now, fear is an illusion.

Death and danger are not but fear is.

Arthur's legs stopped shaking the moment he drew in a second breath, with sure footing he made his way over to the make shift bridge and onto the Pestilence. As soon as his foot met the wooden boards of the ship, the temperature dropped several degrees. On closer inspection there appeared to be a very thin layer of ice on every available surface, even on the cannons and sails. A violet shiver ran up Arthur's spine and caused his entire frame to shutter from its intensity.

People had died on this ship. The thought made Arthur freeze again, his breath coming in short pants. A large hand came down on his small shoulder roughly. The blonde visibly jumped and whipped around to come face to face with his German bodyguard. Immediately Arthur felt shame, he was going to be hunting demons for the rest of his life and he was afraid of a relatively mellow monster?

Gerhart didn't look at all fazed by any of it; he nodded down at Arthur and gently pushed him toward a square opening by the main mast that led down below. The Fledger jumped down the steep stairs that might as well have been a ladder.

Below deck was warmer but not by much.

Gerhart steered Arthur along the small corridor until they came to a door. He thought Gerhart was going to make him walk face first into the old wood but it opened on its own when he got within a foot of it.

They stepped into the room, the door slammed shut behind them, and Arthur had to make a conscious effort not to jump. The room was lit by hundreds of candles, the corners of the room was cast in deep shadows; Arthur could have sworn he saw one move, up by the wall was a large table, on the table sat a Bleeding Heart flower in a simple pot.

Leaning up against the wall was a black coffin with the inscription 'Everything's dried up, the sky, the ground, even the sounds. A world which is entirely devoid of life, it's like I've fallen into an illusion where there's nothing but the open sky. It feels like my body itself is drying up along with it' carved into the lid and painted blood red.

"You're off the edge of the map, mate," A cold voice intoned. Arthur turned his head to the left and came face to face with big bronze eyes framed by a veil of curly hair as red as a roaring fire.

That's when it all clicked.

Why the name Pestilence sounded so familiar, why the ship was still in working condition. This was the Ghost Ship Pestilence! The ghost ship that is said to be captained by a man so evil that even Death won't come for him, only this 'he' is actually a 'she' and the crew consists of the ghosts of the men she murdered. No one knows her name, in fact she can't remember it herself, that's how long she's lived, so now she goes simply by the name 'Pirate'.

She's not the only one either, now that Arthur thinks about it. There is also rumored to be 'Ninja', 'Assassin', and 'Bandit', together they are known as the Four Immortals.

Pirate leaned back on her heels and inspected Arthur. The Fledger returned the favor. She was dressed in loose fitting dark tan pants that were tucked into knee high leather boots, her shirt was a plain off white, decorating her neck was a fluffy tie of the same color as the shirt, her calf long coat was a simple turquoise with golden trimming. Finally, atop her head was a brown hat with brilliant plumage, under which she wore a brown bandanna.

"Well since we can't break the ice…" She turned around and walked to the table, taking out a bottle of rum from the confines of her coat as she went; the fabric swung out with the motion of her arm. "How about we drown it?" Pirate looked over her shoulder at Arthur.

"Sorry but I don't drink," Arthur declined politely. Pirate laughed, it was humorless and razor sharp.

"How long will you keep to that, I wonder," The redhead kicked the chair out and plopped down in it sideways, her legs dangled over one arm of the chair while she leaned her elbow on the other arm. She rested her cheek on her fist before taking a long pull of rum straight from the bottle.

"...E-excuse me?" Arthur was almost afraid to question her but so far she seemed like she had no plans of killing him and he would rather get this over with quickly. Those cold bronze eyes turned to him lightning fast and in the next instant Pirate had catapulted herself from the chair, jumped onto the table and sat down on the edge of it in front of Arthur. He took a quick step back in surprise. Pirate leaned forward until Arthur could feel the cold radiating from her.

Bottle green eyes stared into bronze.

Arthur gasped as Pirate suddenly grabbed his hand, it was as cold as ice and he could feel it sink into his skin, down to his bones, where it stayed. Oh God she was touching him! Arthur's mind scrambled for a spell that would save him but he couldn't think of one.

Behind him, Gerhart stiffened.

The freezing cold slowly crawled up his forearm but stopped at his elbow, "I fear you're marked for a grim encounter. More legends and lore, it's too late to turn back now," A shadow behind her shifted almost impatiently. Pirate abruptly let go of his hand and slid off the table, making him take a few quick back steps.

"I would thoroughly enjoy more of your company but alas, the tide comes in and dark waters await." She announced, the door swung open and she pushed both blondes out, "Welcome to the crew, Master Kirkland!" she cackled before slamming the door shut.

Arthur's breath caught in his throat as relief rushed into his suddenly exhausted body but then he stiffened again and his eyes widened.

He hadn't introduced himself, had he?

He couldn't remember.

That was three years ago.