Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Carribean etc. etc. This is
so redundant.
Pirates of the Carribean: The Path to Darkness
Chapter 1
Sun rising. Blue pink and purple. He loved sun rises. They were even more beautiful than sunsets. It would be a good day for fishing. Tate and his brother Bonne were out in their skips. The small fishing vessels were called The Agony and The Ectasy. Funny names but somehow fitting to life.
Tate and Bonne had lived in the Dutch Carribean for the last five years of their short lives. They had left their native Holland when Bonne was expelled from the Academia. He had played saxephone there. He didn't understand the theory very well, and being rebellious at that age, he would not follow the strict rules of writing music. He would question why he couldn't change to certain keys and why his harmonic chord progression did not conform to his professor's expectations. His expulsion had been too embarassing for his family and they moved to the Carribean.
They had visited many of the other islands, at least the ones that were close by. They were typical dutch. Tall, blond hair, blues eyes and a healthy complection. Their hair had been lightened by the sun and the salt from the sea. Their bodies were tanned, lean and musclular from the hard work as fishermen. Bonne, the older of the two, being 17, planned on becoming a sailor when he was of age to leave home. He wanted to travelle, he wanted the advdenture. He wanted to go to the blank spaces on the maps that were yet to be filled in with the dark ink of exploration.
Tate, who was but 16, figured he was destined to the life of a fisherman. He had not the strength nor the guts to join a crew. He wasn't too good of a fisherman at that either. He sat in the boat, tying knots and untying them again, tying them and untying them. Dreaming of the things that lay below the sea. He too wanted to travell. To get away and learn. He was a dreamer. He could not fight, and he had no way of defending himself, verbally or phsically. His dutch background made it hard to speak english to the extent of the englishmen although he spoke a number of languages like most traditional Europeans; English, French, German, a spot of Latin, and of course Dutch.
The turquoise waters streatched out all around them. Tate reached for the rolls of maps and instruments from the box in his boat.
"Never mind those." said Bonne.
"But we should see where we are." replied Tate.
"I know exactley where we are. Anyways, those papers won't help you. We're in the middle of the Gulf. No land marks here." Bonne grinned.
Tate withdrew his hand from the pile of paper and placed it back on the rudder. His brother was right of course. He wouldn't be able to figure out where they were from the maps, but the astrolobe could be used latter. Of course he wouldn't need it then. Bonne was always able to lead them home. Bonne just knew where to go. He had a sense of direction and position in a bigger place.
The sun quickly rose and the sun quickly began to set.
"We should head back in. The sun's going down." said Bonne.
"Let me just take in this catch." replied Tate.
Tate concentrated on dragging in the load. It was heavy. That meant two things. One, he had a good catch, or two, the net was stuck. He hoped to god that the net wasn't nicked on a rock. He'd be up all night mending the fine netting. It was deffinately stuck. Bonne hopped over to the smaller boat and Tate immediately jumped into the other and held the rudder stead. Bonne slowly tugged at on the different sides and lines trying to loosen it. Finally he got it up. Much of the catch had escaped when the netting was let loose. Caught in it were five silver fish.
The sun had set by now and the sea was the same deep blue color as the sky.
"There are things down there." said Tate staring down into the depths.
"Yes. And not just fish of silver and gold. Are you still afraid of sharks?" asked Bonne.
"No. But I mean there are other things down there. Things that we don't know about. Can you see the men. They're marching and they're gathering."
"Should we follow them?" questioned Bonne grinning.
"No." said Tate finally after pausing.
Bonne looked up. They were now near the coastline. Where they were they could not say.
"We must have drifted. All that silly nonsense about the water." said Bonne pulling his sail in tighter.
"Where are we?" asked Tate.
"I think we caught the current. We're four islands south of Jamaica."
"What! Thats so far away. We couldn't have drifted that far!"
"I'm sure we have."
They tacked the boats and turned back. The wind was dead. If anything they were drifting farther north than south.
"We'll spend the night on an island." decided Bonne.
"But we don't know these islands. There could be natives. Or a colony just further on. Or... or... pirates."
"Don't be silly I know a spot on this island just in the cove here. There's food and shelter there."
"How do you know this?"
"I got lost once." Bonne replied hesitantly.
They pulled into the cove. Palm trees hung over the edges of a small rock cliff. It was the perfect little harbour to spend the night. Bonne jumped out and tied the boats to a particullarily low hanging tree. He strolled over to where the thin woods met the beach. He hopped around. Bonne kept his distance. Mabye the salt water had gone to his brother's head.
At one point Bonne got down on his knees and started to search in the sand. He grabbed something and with a giant heave, a door in the sand opened up.
Tate ran over to take a look. He saw a small room, lined with crates of every color bottle. Bonne pulled out a box of preservatives and two bottles of rum.
Tate went pale.
"This is perfect. See I told you everything would be alright. You look so pale in the moon, come have some of this, it will rise your spirits." said Bonne, walking towards his brother.
"This, this is illegal." stammered Tate.
"We're not stealing this. This is mine." said Bonne cooly.
"This is yours. But then... you're traffiking to the states. Thats illegal..."
"Don't worry. Some of us have to do things that are against the law to get a step up. I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just like a middle man." Bonne sat down on the beach.
Tate sat down away from him. Upset.
"Aww come on now. Its not all that bad. I know you want some of these lovely fruits. Look I have dried apples. I know you liked those from back home." smiled Bonne. He had a way of knowing what people wanted, when and why.
Tate gave in. He edged closer and ate the apple. He had missed them. Fruit was good; oranges, pinapples, coconuts, bananas, but these were good.
"When did you start?" asked Tate.
"Two years ago. I actually did get lost and I ran into this." replied Bonne.
"Do you hear it?" aksed Tate quickly.
"I hear something. It may be a monkey or something. The island pretty long."
"No I think its people. The voices."
Bonne quickly jumped up and ran to the trees. Tate followed and Bonne pulled him down behind a tree.
"Don't talk." shushed Bonne.
There about a dozen men with torches. They were standing around something. Bonne placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Pirates." said Tate. Bonne quickly put his hand over Tate's mouth, but it was too late. Men turned around and the tourches lit up their faces.
Bonne swiftly pulled out his sword and pushed his brother behind him. He would take on the men which were now circling around them.
"Well well. What have we here? A couple of visitors? I do love company." said a pirate standing infront of Bonne with the rest parted around him. He was most obviously the captain.
"Put the sword down lad. There's no way you plan on killing us all." laughed the pirate captain.
Bonne defiantly brought his sword up to the pirate's eye level.
The captain took out his gun and aimed it at Bonne.
"Kill me. I rather die than stay captive to a lot like you." Bonne spit on the ground.
The captain pointed the gun at Tate.
Bonne dropped his sword.
The captain smiled. "Not to worry son. I wouldn't kill that pretty little mate of yours. I don't know what you've heard, or what you've seen. You tell me what you're doing on my island."
"The wind died."
"Yes it is a shame. But tomorrow the winds will pick up for sure if lightens your heart. But, you've been to this island before have you not?"
"Yes but how do you..." he was cut off.
Two men emerged from the trees behind him and Tate backed up to his brother as they walked towards their captain. The pirates had known that they were there the whole time.
The captain cleared his voice. "Well. Had I known that you two also had no values whatsoever to follow the law, I would have introduced myself sooner. I, am Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl, savvy?"
"You're the captain of the Black Pearl?" Tate managed to stammer, coming into the torchlight.
"I am indeed. The most beautiful ship in the world. Come we will go back to the ship. And bring some of that rum with you." Captain Sparrow stode off towards the beach. A large chest was carried between two men, and another place his hand on the two brothers' shoulders.
"Now. You show me where this rum is." he said in a low voice.
Pirates of the Carribean: The Path to Darkness
Chapter 1
Sun rising. Blue pink and purple. He loved sun rises. They were even more beautiful than sunsets. It would be a good day for fishing. Tate and his brother Bonne were out in their skips. The small fishing vessels were called The Agony and The Ectasy. Funny names but somehow fitting to life.
Tate and Bonne had lived in the Dutch Carribean for the last five years of their short lives. They had left their native Holland when Bonne was expelled from the Academia. He had played saxephone there. He didn't understand the theory very well, and being rebellious at that age, he would not follow the strict rules of writing music. He would question why he couldn't change to certain keys and why his harmonic chord progression did not conform to his professor's expectations. His expulsion had been too embarassing for his family and they moved to the Carribean.
They had visited many of the other islands, at least the ones that were close by. They were typical dutch. Tall, blond hair, blues eyes and a healthy complection. Their hair had been lightened by the sun and the salt from the sea. Their bodies were tanned, lean and musclular from the hard work as fishermen. Bonne, the older of the two, being 17, planned on becoming a sailor when he was of age to leave home. He wanted to travelle, he wanted the advdenture. He wanted to go to the blank spaces on the maps that were yet to be filled in with the dark ink of exploration.
Tate, who was but 16, figured he was destined to the life of a fisherman. He had not the strength nor the guts to join a crew. He wasn't too good of a fisherman at that either. He sat in the boat, tying knots and untying them again, tying them and untying them. Dreaming of the things that lay below the sea. He too wanted to travell. To get away and learn. He was a dreamer. He could not fight, and he had no way of defending himself, verbally or phsically. His dutch background made it hard to speak english to the extent of the englishmen although he spoke a number of languages like most traditional Europeans; English, French, German, a spot of Latin, and of course Dutch.
The turquoise waters streatched out all around them. Tate reached for the rolls of maps and instruments from the box in his boat.
"Never mind those." said Bonne.
"But we should see where we are." replied Tate.
"I know exactley where we are. Anyways, those papers won't help you. We're in the middle of the Gulf. No land marks here." Bonne grinned.
Tate withdrew his hand from the pile of paper and placed it back on the rudder. His brother was right of course. He wouldn't be able to figure out where they were from the maps, but the astrolobe could be used latter. Of course he wouldn't need it then. Bonne was always able to lead them home. Bonne just knew where to go. He had a sense of direction and position in a bigger place.
The sun quickly rose and the sun quickly began to set.
"We should head back in. The sun's going down." said Bonne.
"Let me just take in this catch." replied Tate.
Tate concentrated on dragging in the load. It was heavy. That meant two things. One, he had a good catch, or two, the net was stuck. He hoped to god that the net wasn't nicked on a rock. He'd be up all night mending the fine netting. It was deffinately stuck. Bonne hopped over to the smaller boat and Tate immediately jumped into the other and held the rudder stead. Bonne slowly tugged at on the different sides and lines trying to loosen it. Finally he got it up. Much of the catch had escaped when the netting was let loose. Caught in it were five silver fish.
The sun had set by now and the sea was the same deep blue color as the sky.
"There are things down there." said Tate staring down into the depths.
"Yes. And not just fish of silver and gold. Are you still afraid of sharks?" asked Bonne.
"No. But I mean there are other things down there. Things that we don't know about. Can you see the men. They're marching and they're gathering."
"Should we follow them?" questioned Bonne grinning.
"No." said Tate finally after pausing.
Bonne looked up. They were now near the coastline. Where they were they could not say.
"We must have drifted. All that silly nonsense about the water." said Bonne pulling his sail in tighter.
"Where are we?" asked Tate.
"I think we caught the current. We're four islands south of Jamaica."
"What! Thats so far away. We couldn't have drifted that far!"
"I'm sure we have."
They tacked the boats and turned back. The wind was dead. If anything they were drifting farther north than south.
"We'll spend the night on an island." decided Bonne.
"But we don't know these islands. There could be natives. Or a colony just further on. Or... or... pirates."
"Don't be silly I know a spot on this island just in the cove here. There's food and shelter there."
"How do you know this?"
"I got lost once." Bonne replied hesitantly.
They pulled into the cove. Palm trees hung over the edges of a small rock cliff. It was the perfect little harbour to spend the night. Bonne jumped out and tied the boats to a particullarily low hanging tree. He strolled over to where the thin woods met the beach. He hopped around. Bonne kept his distance. Mabye the salt water had gone to his brother's head.
At one point Bonne got down on his knees and started to search in the sand. He grabbed something and with a giant heave, a door in the sand opened up.
Tate ran over to take a look. He saw a small room, lined with crates of every color bottle. Bonne pulled out a box of preservatives and two bottles of rum.
Tate went pale.
"This is perfect. See I told you everything would be alright. You look so pale in the moon, come have some of this, it will rise your spirits." said Bonne, walking towards his brother.
"This, this is illegal." stammered Tate.
"We're not stealing this. This is mine." said Bonne cooly.
"This is yours. But then... you're traffiking to the states. Thats illegal..."
"Don't worry. Some of us have to do things that are against the law to get a step up. I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just like a middle man." Bonne sat down on the beach.
Tate sat down away from him. Upset.
"Aww come on now. Its not all that bad. I know you want some of these lovely fruits. Look I have dried apples. I know you liked those from back home." smiled Bonne. He had a way of knowing what people wanted, when and why.
Tate gave in. He edged closer and ate the apple. He had missed them. Fruit was good; oranges, pinapples, coconuts, bananas, but these were good.
"When did you start?" asked Tate.
"Two years ago. I actually did get lost and I ran into this." replied Bonne.
"Do you hear it?" aksed Tate quickly.
"I hear something. It may be a monkey or something. The island pretty long."
"No I think its people. The voices."
Bonne quickly jumped up and ran to the trees. Tate followed and Bonne pulled him down behind a tree.
"Don't talk." shushed Bonne.
There about a dozen men with torches. They were standing around something. Bonne placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Pirates." said Tate. Bonne quickly put his hand over Tate's mouth, but it was too late. Men turned around and the tourches lit up their faces.
Bonne swiftly pulled out his sword and pushed his brother behind him. He would take on the men which were now circling around them.
"Well well. What have we here? A couple of visitors? I do love company." said a pirate standing infront of Bonne with the rest parted around him. He was most obviously the captain.
"Put the sword down lad. There's no way you plan on killing us all." laughed the pirate captain.
Bonne defiantly brought his sword up to the pirate's eye level.
The captain took out his gun and aimed it at Bonne.
"Kill me. I rather die than stay captive to a lot like you." Bonne spit on the ground.
The captain pointed the gun at Tate.
Bonne dropped his sword.
The captain smiled. "Not to worry son. I wouldn't kill that pretty little mate of yours. I don't know what you've heard, or what you've seen. You tell me what you're doing on my island."
"The wind died."
"Yes it is a shame. But tomorrow the winds will pick up for sure if lightens your heart. But, you've been to this island before have you not?"
"Yes but how do you..." he was cut off.
Two men emerged from the trees behind him and Tate backed up to his brother as they walked towards their captain. The pirates had known that they were there the whole time.
The captain cleared his voice. "Well. Had I known that you two also had no values whatsoever to follow the law, I would have introduced myself sooner. I, am Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl, savvy?"
"You're the captain of the Black Pearl?" Tate managed to stammer, coming into the torchlight.
"I am indeed. The most beautiful ship in the world. Come we will go back to the ship. And bring some of that rum with you." Captain Sparrow stode off towards the beach. A large chest was carried between two men, and another place his hand on the two brothers' shoulders.
"Now. You show me where this rum is." he said in a low voice.