A long, long time ago, back before the kingdoms, and when the world as we know it was still being created, there were made five, magical treasures that represented an aspect of the world. They all held a special ability, a nature of sorts, which imbued its bearer with the power of whatever aspect it was.

The first was the crown of earth, empowering its owner with the tranquility of peace and leadership. It gave the necessities to govern. It is an item used for kings and queens alike.

The second was the shield of water, empowering its owner with heat resistance, and strong will. It gave the ability to defend against nearly anything, and the ability to protect. It is an item commonly given to the highest ranking solider.

The third was the sword of stars, empowering its owner with light, and pure heart. It gave the ability to find the right direction, and to save lives. It is commonly given to the highest maritime captain.

The fourth is the ring of wind, empowering its owner with persuasion, the ability to bend one at will. It gave the attribute to communicate from great distances. It is an item given to the court magician.

The fifth and final is the amulet of fire, empowering its owner with rash action and strength. It is a treasure of two natures, one of kindness and one of reckless. It has the nature to sustain, but also to destroy. It is an item that is given to the one that is best suited. It is passed down from father to child, be it female or male. It is to be guarded.

All of the sacred treasures of the land are guarded when not given. They must be earned, not distributed on a whim. There is a legend that tells if all five treasures are brought together on the sacred altar, that its caverns hold untold riches, riches that should sustain a lifetime, and beyond.

Hundreds of years had passed, no one daring to test the legend. Many had tried, but ultimately there were none who could obtain all five at one time, let alone hold onto them long enough. The Kingdom of the Altar has banned anyone from trying, should they succeed in gathering them.

However that may be, there are always those who will break that rule.

"Just…one…more…piece…!"

Alfred F. Jones sat in the small, quaint workshop, tapping the select piece into place at his little work desk. He stuck his tongue out, squinting one, cerulean eye shut in concentration as he heard a soft click. He perked up at the sound, which had always been sweet and melodious to him. After all, it signified success and a job well done on his end, and he liked that feeling.

"Hey, finished! Anymore you want me to fix, Tonio?" he asked, turning in his chair, glancing back at the man setting a few things on the shelf.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, one of his best friends and owner of the workshop shook his head, wiping his hands off on the apron tied around him. "Nope, you've done great today, Al! Go on home, get some shut eye, and I'll finish up here, okay?"

The youth grinned, giving a thumbs up. "Okay boss-man. Whatever you say."

Antonio laughed, waving him goodnight as Alfred rose from his seat, leaving the fixed clock on the desk.

Alfred headed outside into the bright moon, the pale light illuminating the cobblestone street. He looked up, grinning a bit at the broad variety of stars visible tonight. As he walked down the road homewards, he tugged on the jacket he'd taken off earlier, as the temperature outside was a bit colder than that of inside the shop.

Alfred Jones was a boy of seventeen years, a brash, thickheaded youth with the stubborn nature of a mule. His personality was loud, and obnoxious, but he had a tender and sweet side that showed quite often. His hair was the purest gold, almost outdoing the sun itself, and his eyes were the hue of the cerulean sky, always full of life. Upon his face was always a pair of spectacles he wore with pride. The boy was tall for his age, quite strong as well, which usually ended in disaster when his temper got out of hand.

Alfred has a mother, and a brother, his father being deceased. There were few memories of his father that the boy bore, one standing out from the rest. Before he had died, he'd given Alfred a gift. He had given him a necklace, a necklace of elegance, shaded with the fiery tint of scarlet. It was the most amazing gift he'd ever received, and he wore it every day.

In the middle of his step he stopped, taking hold of the gem and setting it against the backdrop of his home. The bright, moonlit sky made it shimmer, and suddenly all fell quiet. Their ocean town provided the sound of the calm waves slowly coming in and out. He smiled a bit of a quirky smile, surprised by how something so simple brought him such happiness. He supposed the memory of his father always brought him a sense of peace.

Alfred let it fall once more, the smile still implanted on his face as it hit his chest, making a soft clink. He continued on his way home, letting the cool air clear his thoughts.

His father had told him that the trinket held something special, that it would one day teach him great things, but it also may bring him misfortune. He said that if he used it wisely that it would guide him, and that he trusted him to find that. Alfred still hadn't quite figured out the meaning of that yet, but he was sure he soon would.

Nothing ever happened in his little town, and that was the one thing Alfred hated. Alfred longed for some sort of adventure, a taste of the real world. He hated being land bound, but it was all he could do. He didn't want to leave his brother and mother behind unless he absolutely had to. So he settled the best he could, even if mischief was commonly caused.

When finally home was in sight, he made his way over and entered, being as quiet as he could. He knew that his mother was probably sleeping, and that his brother would probably be arriving shortly after he. There was dinner left by mother on the table, which he ate quickly before heading into his room, preparing for what lie ahead tomorrow.

Alfred changed into something more comfortable for sleep, and lay down, closing his eyes. Images of better times flooded through his mind, but he didn't mind. This always happened before he slept, it was a routine of sorts. He heard Matthew, his brother, come in, but decided it best not to speak to him, as he drifted off slowly.

His sleep was short lived as the sound of screaming awoke him.

What what what am I doing. Oh that's right, writing a Pirate!AU.

So this idea formed from a dream I had. There were only bits of the dream I remembered clearly, so I pieced together what I could and added a few things, and BAM! Here it is! There is never enough Pirate!England. Never.

With that said and done, welcome to Collision Effect and I hope you enjoy the ride!

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-IchigoMelon