Never Shall We Die

Chapter One:

"Halt! Who goes there?"

The man stopped in his rum-soaked and wobbly-legged tracks and stared at her. He wasn't unhandsome, if unwashed. His long, dark brown hair was kept in unruly dreadlocks, tied somewhat down by a red bandana. He wore no coat nor jacket, but had been nancing around in brown leather pants, an open white—and severely stained—linen shirt, a multi-coloured silk scarf at his waist and knee-high brown leather boots. There was a leather belt at his waist, inter-lacing with the scarf that held a scabbard containing an old sword, an ancient looking compass, with a pistol tucked securely inside. He tilted his head slightly and looked at her again, his grimy hands slightly in the air. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, his speech slurred in his lightly drunken state.

She rolled her eyes and repeated herself. "What is your name?"

He took a moment to study her before answering. Her chin-length black hair framed her face gently, relieving her features of a harsh, stern feminine quality. She wore knee-length, brown leather trousers that laced at her hips and knees, a light, slightly unlaced linen shirt underneath a dark green bodice. She wore no shoes, her tanned feet standing bare on the royal blue and grey tiled flooring. She carried only a single sword at her hip, giving her a slightly unbalanced appearance. She cleared her throat to gather his attention. "Captain Jack Sparrow," he smiled, his golden teeth glinting in the torch light.

She smiled a wickedly amused smile. "Ah," she said, a light laugh to her tone. "Witty Jack. So you've come for the Fountain of Youth, have you?"

"Yes, actually," he replied, swaggering up to her. "An' I'm a bit lost as it were. So if you'd be so kind as t'point the way, I'll just—"

He tried to scoot around her, but she shot out an arm and stopped him, striking him cleanly, though not particularly gently, in his chest. "No, I don't think so," she said lightly, pushing Sparrow away from the dirt path behind her and back onto the tiled flooring. "How you managed to get your hands on Sao Feng's maps is far beyond me, but all Hell be damned if you're going to the Fountain."

Sparrow leaned in and looked at her closely. "Do I know you? You seem somewhat familiar," he asked her. "Who're you?"

"Mary Harley."

He cringed. "Damn it," he muttered. "I thought you were dead."

"Were I dead, there'd be no guard for the Fountain."

"True…" Sparrow looked thoughtful. Then he turned on the charm. Slipping an arm around her waist, he held her gently, but firmly, to him. "Listen, Mary, love. I've been sailing fer most o' me life and I love it better'n me own mum. I'd do anything t'be able t'sail fer the rest o' all time. So, would you be a darling an' help me in me little endeavour?"

"What's in it for me?" she asked dully, bored already with his act.

"My eternal gratitude." He smiled charmingly at her. He obviously expected his good looks and charm to help him win this battle.

She looked up at him. "And what use would that be to me, Jack Sparrow?" she inquired. "People come and people go, and most can only offer their eternal gratitude. If I allow you to pass to the Fountain without satisfactorily settling your Debt of Passage, word will get out and then I'd be mobbed by others such as you. And then I'd have to allow them to pass. And then no one in the world will die but they'll continue to procreate and soon there would be a severe over-population problem. There wouldn't be enough room for everyone."

He looked confused. "So?"

She sighed, exasperated. "You wouldn't be able to sail," she explained. "Everything would be ship to ship and all you would have to do is walk across the ocean. Or all the earth's resources would be used to build housing for all the people who don't die and there would be nothing to build new ships with, for which you're in the market, I've heard, considering Barbossa made off with the Pearl yet again."

Groaning in frustration, he took a few paces from her and demanded, "Why does everyone keep reminding me o' that?"

"Because it's essential to your existence and you occasionally forget to repay your debts to others," a gentle feminine voice said from the farthest end of the gallery. Mary and Sparrow looked up to see four figures walking towards them. Three men and a woman. "And until you come by a ship through honest means, we'll never allow you to forget what it is you've lost."

The woman was obviously relatively new to the pirating way of life. Her features were incredibly soft and gentle, her blond hair tied up in a bun at the nape of her neck, her silk and satin trousers and jacket hugged her figure modestly, failing to completely hide the small bump of her lower abdomen, indicating she was perhaps three months pregnant, but made in a distinctly Asian style. "Captain Swann," Mary said, nodding to her. "It is good to see you looking so lovely and glowing. Your current state suits you."

"Please, Miss Harley," Elizabeth Swann said, blushing. "Surely you can't mean that."

Mary shoved Sparrow towards their new companions and took a few steps to Elizabeth. "Nonsense," she said lightly. "You look beautiful. Take care of yourself. I should hate to think of what would happen if anything tragic should befall you."

The eldest of the three men stepped forward. "Joshamee Gibbs," he introduced himself. "Captain Sparrow's First Mate." Mary looked him over. He was slightly shorter than Sparrow, and built heavier. His whiskers and hair had at one point in his life been black or possibly incredibly dark brown, but now were greying handsomely. He wore linen trousers and shirt with a blue wool vest, and striped socks and brown leather shoes. A belt holding his scabbard and sword was at his waist, a pistol tucked into the belt at his hip.

"Poor you," Mary replied. Then she turned to the other two men. "And they are?"

"Pintel an' Ragetti," Sparrow said quickly. "They're no one. Just shipmates what enjoy following us around."

Pintel was the shorter of the two men with longish scraggily grey hair, yellowed eyes, bad teeth and dirty fingernails. His clothing was simple, yet practical. He carried a sword and a knife at his belt. Ragetti was the taller, scrawny one. His brown hair fell into his face, in an attempt to cover his patched eye. He had a fidgety look about him. His clothing and weaponry was similar to Pintel's and Mary had the distinct impression that the two never went anywhere without the other.

"Charming," Mary said dryly. "Now," she continued, "why is it you have all come for the Fountain of Youth? There must be a reason to seek after Eternal Life." She looked around at them, waiting for any of them to answer. "Anyone? No? All right then. Captain Swann. What's your reason?"

Elizabeth blushed again. "Well, you see…" she began, slightly embarrassed. "My husband captains the Flying Dutchman and he will live forever and I—"

"You would like to join him forever," Mary interrupted. Elizabeth nodded. "In one year, go out to sea, stab yourself in the heart, and when he comes to collect you and asks if you fear death, claim you fear nothing else and you'll serve on his ship for eternity to avoid it. Be sure you name a successor before you do, though." She glanced at Sparrow who had been trying to sneak by her. Rolling her eyes, Mary ignored him. "Captain Swann, you do not have my permission to pass to the Fountain of Youth."

The Pirate Lord of South China Sea gaped at the Keeper of the Fountain of Youth. "You have got to be joking!" Elizabeth Swann exclaimed. "That's your solution to my problem? Suicide?You were able to live forever with your true love!"

"My true love?" Mary repeated, keeping one eye on Sparrow. "No one ever claimed he was my true love. And as for living forever with him? It seems a rather difficult task to do when he committed suicide after one hundred years of this life. Sparrow, I warned you!" Sparrow had set foot on the dirt pathway and was immediately launched up and backwards off his feet, landing roughly on the tiled floor behind Pintel and Ragetti. Ragetti fidgeted nervously. "You can't go to the Fountain without my permission, which none of you have. Yet." She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I trust none of you will do anything of a stupid nature. So, good-bye and good night." Mary spun around on her bare heel and walked away. As soon as she stepped onto the dirt path, she vanished from sight.

Ragetti leaned towards Pintel and whispered, "I don't think I like her very much."

The next morning, Mary appeared at the edge of the tile and stepped forward, adjusting the lacings of her bodice. She stepped on a piece of broken glass and jumped backward in surprise, the arch of her foot bleeding slightly. She looked up and around at the large main chamber of the Temple of Youth. There was an odd design on the blue and grey tiles made of broken rum bottles. A small fire was burning in the centre of the design. Sparrow, Elizabeth, Gibbs, Ragetti and Pintel were all kneeling in an arched line, their hands folded in their laps, their heads bowed. "What the devil are you doing?" Mary demanded, staring at them.

Sparrow looked up and stood, breaking the arch in the direct centre. "It's an offering," he said, walking over to her on wobbly legs. "T'the God of Youth; the God of the Temple."

Mary rolled her eyes. "You don't know who this Temple honours, do you?" she asked, arms crossed and foot tapping.

"No, no I don't."

"This is the Temple of Hebe," Mary explained. "She is the Goddess of Youth and the Keeper of the Fountain. So even if, by some miracle, you managed to get past me and pass to the Fountain, you will need to convince her of your worthiness to drink from the Fountain. And it's easier to get past me than to get past her."

Elizabeth stood and dusted off her trousers while the other three men remained where they knelt, watching. "I've heard of Hebe," she said. "It is said she's a kind, merciful Goddess who occasionally leaves the Fountain to take a human form and live amongst the mortals for centuries at a time. So, how does anyone gain permission to drink from the Fountain?"

"They don't," Mary said shortly. "And this is her Temple—herhome. And she wants you to leave." She stood at the end of the path, crossed her arms and waited for them to leave. When they didn't she attempted to usher them on with a shooing motion of her hands.

Gibbs, Pintel and Ragetti stood and began walking out. "Question," Sparrow said suddenly, causing his crewmen to pause and looked back. Sparrow cleared his throat and looked imploringly at Mary. "How, exactly, do we get off this island? We shipwrecked against the cove."

"Jack, Jack, Jack," Mary said, shaking her head. "Had you sailed along the coast of the island farther north, you would have come across a harbour. You needn't have shipwrecked." Sparrow sidled up to her and, imploring, smiled sweetly at her. "There is a ship there," she continued. "The Death. She's mine, but you may take her. If you wish."

Sparrow smiled joyfully. "Why, thank you, Mary," he said. He and his crewmen and Elizabeth began to leave the Temple. He stopped and turned back to Mary. "How do we get there?"

She rolled her eyes and walked quickly through the chamber, the broken rum bottles vanishing before her feet. Silently and swiftly, Mary led the way through the twisting corridors and large antechambers of the Temple of Youth. Once outside the Temple, she paused at the top of the stairs. She pointed to a stone path that led away from the Temple. "Take that path," she said. "And do not deviate from it. It will bring you to the harbour."

"Surely you'll wanna come with us," Sparrow said. "She's your ship, after all. Don't you wanna say g'bye t'her?" Mary hesitated, gazing down the path towards the harbour. Slowly, she began to walk down the path, the pirates following behind her.

Elizabeth walked closer to Sparrow and asked quietly, "What are you doing?"

"We'll need her help t'get what we want, love," he answered. "We need t'get her what she wants t'get what we want. Savvy?"

"I just hope you know what you're doing, Jack," Elizabeth answered.

Once at the dock, Mary looked up at the Death with some sadness. It was her ship, after all, and she was allowing pirates of unknown origin and trustworthiness to sail it away from the island on which she was trapped. She examined the galleon fondly, remembering her days aboard it, pirating. Her eyes lingered across the helm, then swept along the deck to the figurehead. The carved wooden figure of a skeleton lifting a goblet to its mouth always frightened those she had preyed upon, but it always brought a smile to her lips. It represented more than one woman in the world. "Mary," Sparrow said, appearing at her side. "What say you an' I go up an' let you have your final g'bye?" She hesitated, silent. "You'll never see 'er again." Sighing, Mary nodded. He smiled. "Lovely."

Sparrow led her up the gangplank to the deck of the galleon where he left her to gently run her fingertips along the main mast and the rigging she could reach. She didn't see Sparrow nod to Pintel and Ragetti. Neither did she see the two pirates sneak up behind her, holding a length of rope. It wasn't until they had tackled her and bound her to the main mast did she realise what Sparrow had planned during the trek from the Temple of Hebe. "Jack Sparrow, you bastard!" she spat at him. "Leave me go!"

"Can't," he said, swaying over to her as his crew made ready to sail. "For you are the key t'getting what it is I want," he whispered to her. "Once out t'sea, I'll release you from your bonds." He turned to his crew. "Mr. Gibbs!"

"Aye, Cap'n!"

"Full canvas an' make sail!"

"Aye, Cap'n!"