Will sat looking at a rusty box sitting on his desk, his hands were rough and
cut from years of being a smith. He attempted for what seemed the hundredth time
to get the intricately designed rusted iron lock box open.

His attempts at  getting the tumblers to click in the extremely complex lock
failing at every turn. He cursed, his fingers slipping again, marveling as he
did at how superb the craftsman who made this had to be… he had never seen a
lock like this before. He tried again to place the tools along the seam and in
the slowly greasing and cleaning lock; his first thoughts having been to try
getting as much of the salt-water-caused rust off as possible to see it
better...not that it had helped much. 

His thoughts focused on getting the box open, but not so much he doesn’t hear
the door creak open. Jack stuck his head through, as Will cocked his head to the
side a bit looked at Jack and then went back to the box. Jack walked in closing
the door behind him and moving behind Will as he continued to fiddle with the
box, his hands resting on the chair as he leans over Will’s right shoulder to
get a better look.

“Going? Or is it giving you more grief?”

“It’s going… I can’t quite get it, and as we don’t know what’s in it we can’t
just hack into it…Damn! That’s the second time my pick has jammed… I wish I
could meet the man who built this…”

Jack chuckled and looked at Will from up close, taunting a bit his eyes innocent
and wicked in the same look as he breathed, “Now would that be to ask him how he
made it or to gut him for making it?”

Will looked mock angry and mock glared at Jack before answering, “both,
Naturally!” then laughed and kissed Jack. He then focused back on the box, his
hands working feverishly as he felt the tumblers fall into place with a sharp
jerk, all the oil and work he’d put into this… one edge of a small crow-bar, and
two other levers he quickly shoved into the now 7 paper thick seam moving under
his hands. The lid grated as he pushed and moved the pieces, finally popping the
lid open a bit, he couldn’t help but crowing.

“HA! Being a blacksmith and a pirate makes for a damn good locksmith for
liberated goods!” 

Jack beamed back, clapping Will on the back as he hugged him. Then he teased,
“Finally, I thought I’d never pull you from this desk! Now, lets see what’s in
this box, hmm?” his hands alternately ruffling and smoothing, both men obviously
excited to see what the small merchant ship had found so important to lock this
up inside 2 other containers…

The lid slowly popped open, the flakes of rust drifting and falling, as Will’s
hand proudly, yet devoutly lifted the lid all the way and both the men gasped in
awe.

Nestled in the box, surrounded by soft, tattered cloth of an impossibly fine
weave sat what looked to be pieces of a shattered scepter. A magnificently
carved crystal scepter. 

The head of the scepter was a large robust figure with swirls and triangles and
inter-woven spirals and bumps along the un-shattered lengths. The largest chunk
was the plump, semi-androgynous figure with wide hips but a smooth broad chest
and a softened cast to the whole thing… wavy lines and swirls showed hair past
it’s shoulders, but even more striking was the coloration of the entire scepter…
it was like it was originally a single large flawless crystal, carved and
smoothed… yet shattered… almost as if from the inside.

Running through most of the shards and all seen clearest in the large figure
were shoots of vibrant color in the core of the crystal, Deepest blue, through
brilliant orange, shoots of black and cream woven over the pattern… stretching
just beyond on both sides, as if missing part of it’s pattern. They couldn’t
hear it but the crystal was whispering to them… humming and singing on a purely
mental level…

A feeling of total awe swept over both men, staring transfixed at this obviously
ancient artifact. Will had never seen anything like it, and Jack was struck by
its beauty and power, as he saw it he couldn’t help being vaguely reminded of
something from a long, long time ago…

Will broke the silence, his hand reaching out and softly lifting the figure out
of it’s cloth cradle as he said’ “Jack… Have you ever seen something so amazing,
so beautiful and OWCH!” As he had been lifting and moving the figure in his
cradled palms the figure had bobbed sharply, slicing his thumb wide at the
inside knuckle and spilling blood, the piece dropping back to the table, as he
hissed in pain. Jack grabbed his hand and examined the wound before pulling it
into his mouth and sucking all the blood away, then holding the wound closed. He
looked at Will with serious, worried eyes before letting his teasing persona
drop back.

“Honorable men and stupid actions… what if it had been poisoned?? Hmm?” 

“Then you, honorable man, would also be poisoned now.” Will returned, his eyes
now no longer filled with pain as he waited for Jacks response, his eyes
smirking, yet also a bit worried… he had been… almost… entranced by the figure,
his eyes began to drift over to the floor then up at the pieces.

Jack’s eyes widened as Will said that, as if he hadn’t thought of himself as in
danger… or as if he hadn’t thought of being caught at not caring…then grinned.
“True, but I remembered the possibilities, Luv” as he said that Will smiled back
and darted in to kiss Jack, he always made him want to kiss him and strangle
him… his eyes telling how much of both…

Jack grinned again and saw that the wound wouldn’t start gushing again soon, and
then looked down to the figure on the ground, something odd catching his
attention. “Hmmm odd…” He bent to pick it up examining it as he grabbed it,
keeping away from the sharp edges… his eyes widened as he saw the inside, the
reds had filled in inside the rainbow!

“oh shi-IT!” His last bit was a cut-off howl as the figure slid in his hand, the
jagged edge striking his thumb in the same place, as Will’s eyes flew wide
looking at the red streak in all the pieces and the fresh blood… and sparks…
no…. lightening racing the violets that now balanced just beyond the blues on
the rainbows, making the cream and black strands seem to dance and writhe over
the now finished spectrum… the lightening pouring out of Jack’s wound, making
the figure glow even as Jack’s face scrunched up and he swore in a muttered
gasp. 

The lightening danced building along the figure, arching to engulf and dance
along the other shards as Jack looked like every muscle was clenched and tight,
his face a ricktus of pain and pleasure, as he choked on a howl.

The lightening kept dancing until the entire room was alight with it’s dance,
before it arched from the now glowing brilliant blue shards to the still open
wound on Will’s hand.

The last thing Will and Jack both saw as they collapsed onto the floor was the
now ebony shards crash back into their case, as Will and Jack’s wounds closed
like they had happened years ago, faint scars now on both their hands…