The boy crept quietly onto the deck, moving slowly as he wished to miss the unfamiliar creaks on this very unfamiliar ship. Barely six years old this was his first trip to sea for his mother had refused all his past requests to go with his father, and he had been asking since he had learnt to talk! Already, the boy felt as if this was were he belonged, for although they had only been at sea for three days he had gotten more than a taste of piracy.

"Papa is a pirate" the boy thought to himself. "I am a pirate." He smiled.

Just that day the crew had made their first attack, on a merchant vessel not much smaller than their own ship. Although safely stowed away in the Captain's cabin (a promise his father had made to his mother and one that it would be more than his life's worth break) he had heard the cannon fire and the clash of metal and his nose had tingled with the smell of gunpowder mixed with something he did not yet recognise, a tangy, strong odour that seemed to evoke both feelings of fear and excitement in him, bringing with them a sense of curiosity to strong to quell. So, he had waited until everyone was asleep and snuck out of his father's cabin, intent on exploring the ship properly. How brave he felt, all alone on the deck. Well not all alone, the boy reassured himself, Papa was on the other side of the door.

Impulsively, he began to creep up the stairs to the wheel, knowing no one would be up there, for he had seen his father ordering that they drop anchor for the night. When his eyes drew in line with the top stair he spotted something odd. A boot. Climbing to the top of the stairs he saw that the boot was attached to a leg and the leg to a person who seemed to be asleep.

"H...hello?" The boy whispered, moving towards the man. He couldn't see his face, it was covered in hair, so he cautiously, carefully pushed some of it away…

He would have screamed if he hadn't been paralysed with fear. The man's face was covered in a blood, an eye missing and his throat had been slit. The boy shook as a tear rolled down his face, quickly followed by more and more as he began to cry, sobbing as he recognised that pungent smell he had sensed earlier. It was all he could do to run, running hard and fast towards the steps, running straight into a large, solid and impenetrable figure.

"It's alright boy." The father held his son for a moment, stroking his hair with his knarled hands. Then, gently but forcefully he turned his son to face the dead man, gripping his shoulders. "Death. Something no one can avoid, no matter how hard we try." The boy's sobs were subsiding, his fathers strong arms a great comfort to him. "You can only rely on death, remember that."

"I will never die Papa" the boys eyes were burning bright now as he wiped the rest of his tears away from his face. Even at this young age, his father could sense that his young son was destined to make the world bow to him and not the other way round. "I will live forever, sail forever, you'll see! I'm going to be the greatest pirate in the world and I won't ever die!"

His father had no reply. He simply took the boy's shoulder, taking him back to the cabin.

Jack's eyes sprung open. It had been years since he had had that dream, though on that memory. Shaking sleep from his eyes he sat up, moving quickly to the table he had the chart on. His finger found his route instantly, for they had been following it for days, weeks, perhaps even months. Aqua de Vida. The Fountain of Youth.
"Well," he thought to himself, "the immortal Captain Jack Sparrow has such a lovely ring to it…"