All are MINE! MINE! 'Cept Cervantes and Soul Edge. Wish I owned Cervantes, though, he's really cool. BT AB! Ha-ha-hah! Take this! This is my third and semi-final revision to this chapter, so I will start on chapter four now. More of everyone's favorite possessed blood-thirsty undead dread pirate! And then... well, I haven't decided yet. Any suggestions? If anyone would like to correct me on my history facts at any point, please me know. Ok, here we go!
"All of us have mortal bodies, composed of perishable matter, but the soul lives forever: it is a portion of the Deity housed in our bodies."
-Flavius Josephus
There is a group of small islands in the Atlantic Ocean, miles from any other significant land mass. Not many know of these island's existence, either because they have not traveled in that remote part of the ocean or they have simply passed them by, and they are thus unmapped. For those that happen find the unexpected land, they dare not attempt to come close to the reefs or the steep cliffs lest the rough surf dash their ships upon the rocks. However, there are a few who know of the secret cove on one of those islands. A small gap between the water and the stone on one side of the center island leads to a spacious cave, which has a supply of fresh water and tropical fruit. Here, a pirate community thrived.
Many years before this story begun, a band of Spanish smugglers fleeing from a British warship sought refuge in these islands. The skilled Spanish sailors discovered the cavern, and steered their speedy ship inside where they hid. The Britons, determined to confiscate the cargo of rum they had been tracking for months, tried to follow the smaller ship, but crashed against the mouth of the cave and sank. Taking the wreckage from the other ship, the Spaniards built a storehouse for the rum that later became the most popular drink at the tavern The Black Dog. Rumors broke out in the pirate community, and soon all sorts of criminals and scoundrels came to the nameless island to escape capture. Some used it as a place to hide, others hid their treasures there as the first Spaniards did, and still others settled down and built shops, trading posts, inns, bars, and various other businesses that kept the haven sustainable. There was a consistent flow of goods in and out of the islands, most of them illegal, that made the pirate town thrive. And yet no outsider knew it even existed.
At the time this tale of souls and swords starts, there was a ship anchored at the dock of the port named the Adrian. The Adrian was a well-known ship within and without the pirate community, respected and feared by all men that knew it. Her captain, Cervantes De Leon, was the cause of this, being a very imposing man. His hair was a light brown, bleached from years in the sun, and hung loosely over his handsome face. His clothes were a sign of his stolen wealth, though he did not wear extravagant shirts and jewels. The buttons of his durable grey coat were rimmed with gold, and over it he wore masterfully made lightweight armor. He also wore impact guards on his shoulders, forearms, and legs, styled with expensive fabric. His boots kept him warm in the coldest winter storm, and his gloves could stay strong under the pressure of a sword. When at sea, he wore a black tri-pointed captain's hat that he stole from the corpse of an officer he slaughtered. One could say that was Cervantes' most distinguishing feature, aside from his piercing blue eyes. His manner toward others was cold and abrasive, though he became very fierce toward his crew if they lagged in action. They held Cervantes in high esteem for his ability to give orders, and never complained to him about his demands. They had faith that their clever captain always had the ship's and the crew's best interest at heart, despite his occasional cruel words and actions, for he was the most prestigious pirate of his time.
One cause of his great reputation was his success at capturing the British ship The Grey Ghost. The scout ship, which had been pestering pirate activity in the Mediterranean, had one day come very close to escaping after discovering the pirate's nest. The Adrian chased The Grey Ghost almost to the British fleet, where it would be safe, when suddenly Cervantes brought his ship next to the other and demanded they surrender. After the soldiers refused his demand and shot at him, the fierce buccaneer leapt across to their ship and killed every man aboard single-handedly. His crew later said his eyes were filled with a bloodlust that could not be quelled. They had followed him onto the ship, prepared to fight, but their captain left none standing in his wake. When Cervantes returned to the cove holding the other commander's blood-stained uniform over the bow of The Grey Ghost, the pirates knew he was certainly the most powerful of them all.
Cervantes mulled over this memory several more times in his head. "The most powerful..." he murmured to himself, taking another gulp from his tin cup. If I am the most powerful, he thought, then why do I not feel strong? Why, if I am as insignificant as all these other men, do they fear me and adore me, as though I were a god to be worshiped? I am mortal, like themselves, made of flesh and blood. I have eyes no sharper than theirs, ears no more finely tuned, and arms no stronger.
Well, he thought, as he glanced at his sun-tanned forearms, which had attractively defined muscles from years working on ships. Perhaps I am a superior human to those weaklings, but I am still...
"You have a message, captain."
"Still just..." Cervantes came out from his meditation, his thoughts fading back into darkness.
"Come again, captain?" said the barkeeper.
"Never mind," growled Cervantes, draining his cup and slamming it onto the table. He did not like to be interrupted while he was thinking. "Bring me more rum."
"Certainly, senor," said the barkeeper, pouring more of the smuggler's drink from his bottomless jug. "And you have a message from the captain of that ship. Would you like someone to receive it for you?"
Cervantes felt a cold chill travel down his back, one of excited anticipation. This is it, he thought, over and over. His heartbeat increased as he turned his gaze to the window of The Black Dog. He saw what he was hoping, what he was dreading. Ocean Runner, the ship that had once been named The Grey Ghost, sat at the dock opposite the Adrian. One man stood in between the two ships, unmoving, with his hands in the pockets of his heavy coat.
"No," Cervantes told the waiting barkeeper, not moving his eyes from the man outside. "No, I'll... I'll receive it myself..." His voice trailed off as he stood and picked up his cutlass and captain's hat. He placed some gold on the table, which the barkeeper swiped up quickly.
"Have a pleasant night then, captain," he said as he walked back to the bar. Cervantes didn't hear him, or he didn't care. Adopting his usual lazy, unconcerned stride, he walked out from the tavern and turned for the dock. He passed an old fisherman, carrying his net and gear to his small vessel for his evening catch. The man greeted the captain, but, again, Cervantes seemed not to hear. Taking the steps down to the waterfront three at a time, he approached the man on the dock. He had not moved since Cervantes had left The Black Dog, but continued to shelter himself from the wind with his coat. It may have been summer, but light ocean breezes became freezing gusts when they whistled through the mouth of the cave.
"Tell me," Cervantes breathed, placing his hand firmly on the other man's shoulder. "Where are they?"
The man, who seemed to be staring at the ground from under his hood, murmured something inaudible.
"What?" Cervantes felt his hand fall to his side, as the man turned to face the Adrian. He lifted his head slightly, surveying the ship absently.
"I am sorry, captain, but I thought I could... I tried to... I realize I shouldn't have... They know they are being followed..."
Cervantes' lips tightened in rage. "What did you do, Tulio?"
Only a whisper came from him. "I thought it would be simple, to intercept them before they reached Alexandria, and then bring it to you, but they were ready, they got away, and now they are making sure they are not followed... I am very sorry."
Tulio fell silent, bowing his head again. Cervantes thought quickly.
"Where are they now?"
"Near here. We waited for them off the coast of Spain, they changed direction when they saw us. They decided to go further into open ocean to avoid-"
Cervantes suddenly ran forward, roaring, and lunged with his cutlass. With a startled cry, Tulio fell to the side, narrowly missing the vertical chop. He pulled a short, thin sword, almost a knife, from within his coat, and rose into a fighting stance. "I thought we had a deal, De Leon!"
Turning to face his opponent, Cervantes curled his lips into a sneer. "Our deal, senor, was for you to give me the information I needed in exchange for a ship. You have a ship, I know what I need to. The deal is complete." Bringing his jeweled cutlass back into a ready position, he stepped toward Tulio menacingly
Clearly frightened, but not backing down, the smaller man tightened his grip on his weapon. "So you intended to do this from the start! Kill me?"
Bringing his blade over his head, Cervantes brought it down in another powerful strike. Tulio easily dodged the attack, but Cervantes brought his boot around in a roundhouse that sent the other man sliding across the wet wood. The fisherman, who was sitting in his boat a short ways from the battlers, watched the fight with some interest. The residents at the pirate town often dueled to the death over small disputes. Tulio's crew, who had been rolling the sails of the Ocean Runner, gathered at the side of the ship when they heard their captain's shout of pain. They began shouting support, as Tulio attempted to recover from the blow.
"You- bastard," he gasped, winded by the kick. He clutched his sides, and raised his sword as he stumbled forward. Cervantes snorted with disgust at the man's pathetic effort. He batted Tulio's weapon out of his hand with little effort, and gripped his neck. Tulio gagged and clawed at the hand choking him.
"How dare you," Cervantes spat, then lowered his voice so that only Tulio could hear. "I gave you a task, and you failed, again. I see now it was a mistake to trust a man who can barely keep his ship afloat at port, much less obey orders. If this is what you do with your chance at redemption," He raised his voice so that all bystanders could hear now, including his own crew aboard the Adrian, "then you do not deserve to live!"
Cervantes lifted the writhing Tulio over his head, and placed the cutlass' tip against his chest. "But really," Cervantes lowered his voice again, smiling cruelly, "I did not want to kill you. In fact, I would rather you be alive to command that fine ship under my sail than be dead at the bottom of the sea. But you must know why." The smile faded from his face as he glared at Tulio. The other man suddenly understood Cervantes' intent.
"But- you can't!" he managed to gasp. "You said- the Italian!" But Cervantes squeezed his neck harder, stopping all speech. Tears fell from Tulio's eyes, and he ceased struggling against his captor's grip. The arm holding him in the air began to shake from the effort.
"Don't be a fool, Tulio. Your mind has been touched, the seeds have been sown. I have had enough dealings with fate to know not to leave any loose ends in my wake, lest they trip me up later. Soul Edge shall be mine, and mine alone, and I shall destroy all who oppose me!" As Tulio's horrified crew watched, Cervantes lowered him back onto his feet. Tulio let out a piteous sob, and Cervantes leaned his head still closer.
"Even if you weren't affected, I would have done this," he said menacingly, smiling again. "For I wouldn't want you warning your men they were about to become Soul Edge's next meal." And, with a great roar, Cervantes hurled the man into the air. He glimpsed Tulio's terrified face as he became weightless, still gasping for breath, as he realized the meaning of the other pirate's last words to him. Cervantes thrust his cutlass upwards to intercept the falling man-
The men watching aboard the Ocean Runner and the Adrian fell silent, as the captain fell onto the blade with a satisfying smack. The tip poked through the back of his coat slightly, from which blood spurted violently. Tulio's face was twisted in pain; he had died the instant the steel entered his spine. Blood trickled from his mouth and nose, and ran down his gaunt face. Cervantes jerked his sword out from Tulio's corpse, which fell to the ground and began bleeding from the chest too. Bending down, he unfastened the green coat from the body and removed it quickly, before it became stained too horribly. Straightening up as though he had done nothing more than lace his boots, he shouted to those under his leadership. "Raise the anchors, men! We set sail immediately!"
Jumping to attention, the crew of the Adrian began preparing the ship to go to sea. They yelled commands to each other, acting from years of experience, obeying their captain's order with eagerness. Nudging the lifeless body of Tulio with his foot, Cervantes then addressed the now-leaderless pirates of the Ocean Runner. "That goes for you lot as well," he shouted to the shocked men across the dock. "I'm your captain now! Follow my commands, or you'll end up like this sorry fool!" He kicked the corpse again, harder this time, and it rolled off the dock into the water.
Wiping his bloody cutlass on the soggy wood, Cervantes was pleased to see the other crew scurrying across the deck of the Ocean Runner. With two ships under his command, he thought, nothing could get between himself and his goal. Chuckling grimly to himself, Cervantes pulled the bloody green coat over his shoulders and stared through the mouth of the cave to the sunset. The old fisherman was silhouetted by orange light, bobbing in his small boat, headed out into the open sea alone.
"Captain," the first mate called, from the bow of the Adrian, "are you ready to come aboard?"
"Yes," Cervantes said, almost to himself. "Yes, I am ready. I am finally ready." He turned, and walked toward the gangplank leading up to the ship. I have found you at last, he thought. I am coming, do you hear me, Soul Edge? I am ready!
I know I completely changed the mood with this edit, not as suspenseful, and something may be lost, but I hated the idea of splitting it up. If anyone is seriously grieved, let me know in a review and I'll post both. However, I feel that extending the chapter to here is best because I feel strongly against short chapters that do not have anything significant in them. Also, I appreciate suggestions for the story style, ie. what I write next. Should I follow timeline, or something else? Please, please review. Preferably make them like EvilYardGnome's, that one made my day. BTW, I adjusted my settings to accept unsigned reviews, so if it seemed like I was shutting you out please try again. I've also decided not to give chapter previews. Till next we meet, mortal!