James was not going to sulk. He brought it upon himself: the tenacious three day hike up to the highest point on the island among the coiling, buzzing, swirling shrubbery that crawled with a fist-large, poisonous spiders, snakes of all colours and lengths, and monsters that fit into neither reptilian nor insect category but topped them at being hairy, slimy and otherwise typically ugly. All of these creatures tended to pounce, spring, and drop, ambushing victims with a speed of lightening from the holes in the ground, underneath the rocks, branches of the trees, and even beneath the leaves and flowers. All of it aiming to gobble up an unsuspecting victim. Give him the fair sea any day where the enemies could be spotted a league away, James decided.

Perhaps, Edward's prediction about the crocodile moat had not been that far off. James felt a stab of annoyance at the man who deserved to have his behind skewed in sword practice at the nearest opportunity for his prophecy. There weren't any crocodiles, but the vicious, beastly greenery that threatened to eat him alive absolutely made up for the lack of the sharp teeth and crushing jaws. The hostile environment was surely set on strangling him. Not that James hadn't retaliated in full by chopping into salad with his sword one particularly vicious, drooling, carnivorous bush that wanted to devour him under Toa Ni's indifferent on the surface stare, while the savage deeply enjoyed the sea man's predicament.

All of his adventures were made more so bothersome due to the savage who accompanied him. His guide hated him, period, and considered it below his status to act as James' lead. The path to the former Tanga village was a long climb uphill. James hardly slept; when he did, it was the weary semi-unconsciousness that brought him awake at the faintest unfriendly movement or sound. The savage was blissfully unaware about the existence of breaks, marching sunrise to sunset, and only occasionally sliding off into the bushes to take care of his natural needs. They didn't hunt, and grabbed a few quick bites of whatever they brought separately in a suspicious silence. After a few unsuccessful attempts to start a conversation, James copied the silent treatment that Toa Ni was giving him. He only had been able to discern that Toa Ni could understand him, although the warrior's vocabulary was not nearly as advanced as his chief's. The savage surely didn't need to know many words, since he believed that all sea men were best when they were tried up and hoisted above a fire.

Last evening, James sat on some wiggling, jelly mass that gave a loud, frog resembling croak, and bit his behind that was now itching. James was damned if he attended to the problem with Toa Ni watching him. The savage, however, had no such reservation and suddenly scratched his own behind with his spear. James silently added the warrior to his list of the odd creatures he wanted to throttle, in the second place after Jack Sparrow. The feeling was surely mutual.

The hike of the unknown length was starting to grade on James' nerves, but he never showed any signs of weakness. He followed the savage's schedule with an absolutely disinterested look, pretending that he didn't care.

On the third day, James risked a question when the jungle allowed him to walk beside the warrior. "Toa Ni," he asked, "why are you helping me if you hate me?"

The warrior stopped, regarding him with the most snobbish look as he wavered between the desire not to lower his status by talking to a foreigner and considering whether the threat he had to convey was too impressive not to offer it in place of an explanation. His stop, however, was an encouraging sign because the Tanga either walked or talked; they didn't like to do both at the same time.

"I do not hide from my enemies," said Toa Ni. "I want the sea men to come. I will cut all their hearts out and eat them."

Facing the danger was the reasoning James could understand, as foolhardy as it was. Toa Ni was young. He had no idea that one first rate ship with enough marines on board could completely take over the island within a couple of weeks. It was the belief in his strength and ignorance that made his opinion different from his chief's about the mist. Toa Ni never imagined just how large the world was, seeing only his home in the jungle, dangerous as it was.

Their stop attracted a predator that watched the pair from the branches of a tree; the brown scales made it indistinguishable from the bark. The python slithered with the fluidity of honey closer to his victim, and struck in a blink of an eye. He coiled around Toa Ni, strangling his prey. James grabbed his knife to help, but the wilful, paralyzing expression in Toa Ni's eyes stopped him. The warrior wanted no help from the sea man. It was a moment of pride as he squeezed the python's throat and valiantly struggled to keep the coils from crushing the bones in his neck.

James watched the fight with interest. Toa Ni's muscles bulged, and his hands trembled with force. There was raw strength and captivating power in the battle for survival. The warrior won. The python went limp. His initial strike had failed to suffocate the victim. Toa Ni shook off the coils and tossed the reptile onto the ground. The python slid into the grass, making a hasty escape. James gave the warrior an acknowledging, curt nod. James thought he saw something new appear in how Toa Ni looked at him, but it was gone too fast to be sure.

"Not far now, sea man," said Toa Ni, who refused to call James by his name, but it was the first phrase he offered voluntarily. They walked for another hour until Toa Ni stopped and regarded James expectantly.

Once his attention was no longer bound to the roots that were entangling his ankles, James noticed an almost indistinguishable change in their surroundings. There were remnants of a cracked pole in front of him. Dried heads decorating the pole, grimaced from the overgrown cover of flowers and lianas, telling James that they've reached their destination.

James examined the surroundings curiously. The village was hardly distinguishable from the rest of the nature due to the jungle almost fully reclaiming its lost territory, eradicating all traces of the habitat in a sprouting shrubs and lianas. There were broken, almost entirely enveloped by the greenery huts. The ground crunched underneath his feet where he saw pieces of the smashed pots and plates. The village had been abandoned in haste; the testament to it lay in a mix of scattered ritual drums, domestic items and even weapons on the path.

"What now?" James muttered to himself, wondering if there was a ghost summoning ritual or whether it appeared randomly. He hoped that the ghost patrolled its haunting territory regularly if it was the later. Living in the abandoned village to wait for it was even less appealing than spending a day listening to Sparrow talk to his compass as James swabbed the deck of the Black Pearl, wheras he had mistakenly thought that nothing could beat that experience.

Toa Ni heard the muttering and misinterpreted it as a question addressed to him. "I do not summon spirits," he replied ironically before resuming their journey. "They come when they want." He still needed to lead the sea man to the shrine, although he considered not for the first time killing the man and going back. He very much preferred solid world to spiritual. His behaviour changed. Toa Ni was alert and constantly searching the surroundings. He walked like a predator that had ventured uninvited into a territory of another more powerful beast and was prepared for battle before their paths crossed.

But, it was James who saw the spectre first. It came through a wall of the nearest hut. It was a man, who walked rather than floated, towards them. His features were clear, yet white as the mist. He wore a Navy uniform. With every step he took towards the living the air grew colder around them. It was chilling enough for the breath to form into cloudy puffs. Toa Ni tensed like a coiled snake, shaking with an effort to stay. A cold sphere formed around them, and the snowflakes began to fall. For the savage, the icy flakes were an unearthly sight beyond his imagination. He wasn't afraid of mortal enemies, but the cold and unknown was different. Fear overpowered pride. He ran, leaving James all alone.

James was stunned. Cold sweat formed on his brow. His fear suffocated him better than all the jungles could, not as much due to the appearance of the spectre, but due to uncanny physical resemblance the spectre shared with his second officer, Alexander Warren, who had served aboard the Dauntless. It was not the same man, James told himself, fighting the desire to follow Toa Ni.

"Good afternoon, lieutenant," James said, forcing a semblance of control into his voice. It held steady, although he shuddered as the snowflakes that were landing on his eyelashes and blurring the world turned into tiny icy pellets. He couldn't lift his arm to brush them away.

The spectre continued his grim march. James felt like he was turning into an ice sculpture, his instincts warning him that soon he would lack the strength to escape. He stayed. The frost was closing in, wrapping around him like a shroud. "There is a curse that holds my lover prisoner on this island. I believe you are responsible. I cannot leave until I learn how to lift it." The world was blue and white. His body was numb and stiff. His blood was turning into icy rivers. "I believe you understand what love is, and what any man would do for his lover. Just as you are here to avenge your beloved, I am here to save mine." The last words came out as a strangled whisper; his lips were no longer obeying him.

And then the cold abated. Hot, Caribbean sun blazed, warming the air. James felt like an icy slab had been lifted from his chest, and he was free to move again.

The spectre stood within reach, watching him soundlessly as James recovered his breath. The spectre pointed towards the other end of the village. He walked a few paces, stopped, and looked at James over his shoulder.

James accepted the invitation to follow. The spectre led him to an open platform; its elevation suggested that it was made for rituals. It was the place he had been looking for. The shrine was a circular area surrounded by four poles with the grinning masks carved into the woodwork and a large stone in the middle that was smudged by traces of blood. The shrine presented a beautiful view of the jungle and the mist beyond. The white ring stretched high into the clouds. James felt like the island was trapped inside of a tall glass of milk.

He jumped when the spectre touched his shoulder to regain his attention. The spectre went around the slab and pointed at a pile of bones.

"Is this you and your wife?" James asked. He seemed to have better luck talking to the spectre than to Toa Ni.

The man nodded mournfully. He let out a wail of discontent. James wondered why the spectre could howl but couldn't talk, which would have helped to clarify what this lost soul wanted.

"What an unchristian way to die."

The spectre nodded again, this time with agitation, and pointed to the bones once more and then crossed his arms in front of him.

"Do you want me to bury your remains in accordance with our religion?" James asked. Maybe, performing the task was the payment for learning how to break the curse. But, he would have done so regardless as he was loath to let the tormented soul suffer beyond death. James understood what it was like too well.

The spectre nodded and melted into the air. James sighed. The damned ghost could have at least led him to a shovel to dig the grave with. Toa Ni was of no help either after he ran away, although James wasn't too sorry about that fact. At least James scored a bravery point against him after his miserable track through the jungle that Toa Ni had enjoyed at his expense.

The rest of the day was spent on digging the grave and building a cross. James never found a shovel, but he did find tools in one of the huts that were suitable enough for the digging. Collecting the bones into a large pot, and making a silent apology and assuring the ghosts that it wasn't because he wanted to cook their remains, was a joyless task that sent shivers down his spine. James thought the specture would appreciate that he would be buried in one grave with his wife. Perhaps, they would finally have their love together in Heaven that they haven't found on earth. James didn't know the names of the victims. He had simply inscribed Lieutenant of the Royal Navy and his wife the Tanga Chief on the cross.

As the last touch, he gathered a handful of flowers and placed them on the grave. James knelt by it in a silent prayer for his countrymen who, regardless of the new day or sixty years in the past, have left and would be leaving their homes in search of fortune, adventure and power, but most importantly they've discovered that it was a search for themselves because the sea tore away all false masks, testing each man's character. Some men failed the test and sunk into disgrace. Others, like the nameless lieutenant, found the strength to stand by their choice to love regardless of sacrifices. Men like Warren left storm-hardened, unquestionable bravery and loyalty in their passing.

James closed his eyes. The wind swept away the tears from his face that he didn't know he shed. At last, he found the lost words that had been stuck in his chest. The ones that had lived in him, but had sunk so far into abyss of his despair on the night of the hurricane that it would have cost him his sanity to think them. The words to thank all those men, and wish them peace and a safe place in Heaven. The wind grew stronger, ripping the petals off the nearby trees, and swirled them around him like a cloud.

When James opened his eyes again and raised his head, he saw a clear sea, stretching all the way to the horizon in the vibrant hues of red and gold of the setting sun. The mist had been swept away by the wind along with the sorrow, freeing the golden sky beyond that had never looked so glorious.

James heard a slight rustle behind him. His hand flew to his sword and then relaxed at the sight of his companion. Toa Ni was back. James suspected that the savage drew his attention on purpose with that minor noise. The warrior was regarding him with an open curiosity like he had discovered in James something he had never expected to find. The expression, which James had not quite caught earlier, was bared open. It was the grudging, but recognised as fairly earned, glimmer of respect.