Chapter 3
Yay! People are reading and reviewing! *jumps up and down*
Well...can't think of anything to say. Anyway...
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Somewhere, far out in the Atlantic, there sat an island: small, uninhabitable, just an errant floating rock. There was nothing around it at all; giving rise to the belief that nothing lived on it. In addition, who would live in the middle of the Atlantic on some pathetic island when the enchanting Caribbean was not far off? Therefore, all intelligent sailors passed it by. There was nothing profitable here, especially if it meant getting through the fog around it. For around the island was a perpetual fog, a deterrent for even the most foolhardy of seamen. No one ever saw that fog lift or the waters below it. Some people even believed the island to be inhabited by devils.
However, to one ship, these tales were naught but words. It seemed to sail directly for the fog with perfect confidence, the sailors on deck actually in a jovial mood, singing some songs as they came to it. They passed into the fog, and it closed in about them, leaving no trace the ship had come at all. Certain death awaited this poor ship though, for the fog was thick and one could not even see their hand in front of their face.
Still, it sailed on, and as it did, even more people emerged onto deck, calling to each other in the thick air. Some children emerged, running about and calling and pointing over the rail. Men peered out in silence, making comments to each other, while their wives whispered in little groups, glancing nervously around in the dense clouds. The sailors tried to work around them, but it proved too daunting of a task, and they finally pushed them down below deck again despite their protests. Now, the sailors could work without hindrance, and work they did.
Suddenly, there was some shouting, and the ship hit something that felt like a dock, a dock to a port. Yes, it was a port, a city hidden beneath the fog, a mystery to all other wary travelers but this one. At the jolt, some of the passengers came on deck, and as the fog cleared before their eyes, they saw a spectacular sight.
In front of them was a city, magnificent to behold. Many docks lined the waterfront, some holding ships but most empty. People mulled about, shouting, calling, and motioning towards the great ship just to come into harbor. Behind that though was the true spectacle. The city itself was built between two hills. Many of the buildings sat upon the hillsides, but the bulk of the houses stretched between the gap. The streets were of dark cobblestones, horses tethered here and there on the side, some plants peeking through the little spaces between the houses and the road. The buildings themselves were made of dark woods or sturdy stone, most beautiful structures with a combination of the two: some fancy woodwork done over the stone. Occasionally a large building would show through, mixed in just as normally with the smaller ones, though the larger usually rested upon the hillsides. These were mansions of the highest kind, the graceful architecture something one would not expect to see on any island nation. These had large lawns with grasses and trees and vines snaking up the sides of the house, flowers in bloom on hedges, the trees swaying in the gentle sea breeze. The cloud cover kept the city in semi-darkness, but because of this, it held a dark, alluring quality.
The passengers took their first steps off the ship into the town, bubbling with excitement after their long journey. The sailors followed a little while after, laughing and joking with each other as they made a beeline for the nearest tavern. Now off that ship for a little while, they would have some time to relax.
"How long will we remain?" one of them asked to another. The latter shrugged.
"We usually stay about a week or so," he replied. "Depends on how the captain's doing and what...everyone wants." Suddenly, he looked at the first strangely. "Of course, I don't know about you. You just got lucky, having skills that were useful to us, that's all. Really just another passenger..." A hush fell over the group, and the stopped, all surrounding the first man. He looked around to them.
"You mean to make me stay here then?" he whispered coldly. "You mean for me to stay in this town for the rest of my life." Silence met him, only fueling his anger. "You don't understand! I can't do that, not now!"
"Listen, lad," another man said, putting a strong arm around his shoulder. "It'll all work out in the end. Maybe you can come along some other time with us. It's not as if we haven't had any time together. We've been on that ship for five years..."
"That's the point!" he shouted. "I've been on there for five years. The sea is my home, don't you see. I have to sail with you. If I don't..." His voice caught in his throat, for it seemed to him then that he had to stay sailing for another reason, but it was distant, faint, faded from his memory.
"We're sorry we have to do this, but it's a good town. You should enjoy it all the same. Come on, let's have a drink now and forget about all of this. Some nice company to keep you warm for the night here, some drinks to clear you mind, and it should all be fine." They started moving again.
"But what about after that? You will sneak out on me tonight, will you not? You would leave me here! You don't understand! I can't be away from the Caribbean! I can't be away from..."
"Listen, I told you we should drop this for now and continue this argument later," he hastily interrupted. "We'll be here for a while, so don't bother yourself with it!" The sailors pushed ahead, but the man remained where he was. He could not so easily just forgive and forget. That little nagging voice in his head still rang clear, and if he remained, there would be no chance of it ever leaving him.
He looked back to the ocean once more before trudging ahead to join back with his companions.
***
"Surrender and you will go away unharmed," Jack announced to the captain of the merchant vessel as he held his sword to the captain's neck. The man trembled.
"I surrender," he stammered out, his face paling. Jack glared at him for one unnerving moment before grinning and sheathing his sword.
"Good then," he announced. "All right, men, get all the prizes off of here. Oh, and to you, mate, I would make sure you say a little word to your crew warning against going against us. Let's just say we have a 'punish the masses for one's mistake policy.'" He clapped the captain on the shoulder and sauntered off, leaving the man stunned.
"Please, sir, pirate you might be, could I ask just a little favor of you?" the captain called after Jack, who spun around on one foot slowly. "Leave us enough provisions to get to the closest inhabited island." Jack thought for a moment, his chin on his hand.
"Well, your ships a small one, for a merchant vessel, and right now I'm not hurtin' for another, so I might consider it," he bargained, "if you give me all the information you have about the Fleeting Dream." Silence fell over the crew, who had been shuffling about noisily, and the only sound was that of Jack's pirates looting the ship. The captain cleared his throat at Jack's expectant expression.
"We saw them, from our crossing 'bout a week ago, in fact, heading straight towards a large belt of fog. Said to lead to an island, but every sailor whose dared enter there's died. I'spose they'll be turning off sometime from their course, but we haven't seen 'em since." Jack now fell silent, his mind working frantically as he ran this information through again. So, the ship was in the Atlantic somewhere.
"What do you know about the crew of the ship?" The captain shrugged.
"Naught but the fact that always the numbers on that ship change. Some say it's every five years that the ship's numbers go back to just a few before they start to grow again. What they're up to no one knows. I suspect they are delivering the people somewhere really," he whispered.
"A human cargo?" Jack wondered skeptically. The captain shrugged.
"Heard that story sometimes. I suspect they take those poor people off to be part of some ritual or something. Probably all of them die." Jack leaned against the railing now to feign calm.
"What of the sailors? Are they ever...dropped off?"
"Rarely. Most of the times I see the crew in taverns they have the same numbers. Still, I've counted, and there's one more in the crew than usual. Who knows? They might drop 'em off if they need to." Jack held back the urge to wince. Instead, he turned away from the captain to watch his crew make quick work of the loot. They were almost done now, and Jack turned his head back around, tilting his hat to the men.
"Greatly appreciated the news and your supplies, mate. Good sailing for you!" With that, he swaggered across the plank now connecting both ships, not looking back while his mind ran over the information.
"So, what'd he say?" Anamaria inquired. Jack looked down at her, his face, for once, grim.
"I know that Will might be there, but I'm not sure where there is."
***
"No, cap'n, no, that's not Will. Jack, get off 'im. Jack, that's no' a good idea. Jack..." Anamaria turned away with an exasperated sigh as Jack began to try to unbutton the unlucky crewmember's shirt, all the while saying something about how "ye 'r alwa's so hesitan', Will," though Anamaria was quite sure that was not Will. The wonders of a little rum never seemed to astound her. Well, not technically just a little...
"Cap'n," she began again, "least go back to yer cabin!" Jack looked up at her, a little dazed, before a wolfish grin crossed his face. He left the crewmember where he was, slightly confused himself and not truthfully sure what had just happened (so he returned to his rum), and stumbled to Anamaria.
"Hel'o," he slurred, wrapping a hand around her shoulder. Anamaria gave him a warning glare, and even in his intoxicated state, he backed off just a little. He took another swig of rum, and all of Anamaria's hopes dwindled away.
After the looting of the ship, they sailed a little ways off before beginning the traditional celebration, filled with the stolen rum from the other ship and whatever else that contained alcohol upon the ship. The crew enjoyed themselves by getting thoroughly drunk. Anamaria, as usual, kept herself almost sober. She had been planning to join the crew in their drinking, but she had hopes to maybe, somehow, converse with Jack one last time about the search for Will.
Still, as usual, Jack was also the first to be stumbling around yelling half-intelligible phrases. She should have guessed, really, that Jack would not be in any sober form tonight. She sighed and leaned against the railing.
She was just a little unnerved now, after overhearing the conversation between Jack and the captain. There were rumors of that island she had heard before; most she knew to be seamen's tales. Still, some held some merit. It was said that any ship that sailed into the fog would never return; dashed upon frequent and razor-sharp rocks that jutted up from the frothing waves. And there was wreckage all about that area, remnants of the unfortunate ships' passages. Still, word passed around that one ship would frequent that area, sail into the fog, and emerge from it unscathed. So, as Anamaria saw it, the chances of Will having survived that passage were slim.
She had to tell Jack before he set the ship on an sternly course, out towards that island, his hopes rising, only to be crushed when he saw the remains of Will's ship, or broken to pieces while he himself fell into the dangerous waves, never to appear again. Jack would not handle it if he sailed all that way to find that Will was gone forever from him.
***
Jack stared up at the ceiling of his cabin, brooding, as he usually did not do. Of course, the circumstances were not what one would call normal for Jack either, and the manner of his mind was not traditional.
In fact, he was plain distressed.
The very thought of Will being dead, said out in front of him, heard through his own ears, sent him off into this dark phase. Always he had known in the back of his mind there was little chance of finding Will. As the years progressed, that voice took over, and he all but forgot about the lad. Until Anamaria mentioned him in the tavern. From then, he could not get his mind off Will. When he closed his eyes, he saw his strong face, yet his gentle amber eyes, his beautiful hair, felt it tickling Jack's face as they rested side by side. He saw the sun shining bright above, the clear waters around him, Will sometimes throwing him a smile from where he worked around the deck, Will when he laughed with the rest of the crew, dancing to the sound of a violin, playing a little tune he had made on a tin whistle. Jack felt his own laughter at times like those, watching Will laugh and jest.
All gone, crashed upon the rocks of some unknown island, not a week's sailing from where they were now. All gone, all gone! Anamaria's newest words brought no hope to Jack. Will was lost; there was no way around that. Will was gone from him now, gone forever.
One week ago, Jack rejoiced with his crew over a large plunder. One week ago he no care or worry about Will.
Well, now there would be no worrying. That was over. All that was left was the gaping hole in Jack's heart, the empty space that would nevermore be filled. Tears sprang to his eyes, but as he often did, he buried them. Once he saw for his own eyes this island, once he knew for certain that Will was dead. Then and only then would he mourn. Even now, there was the slightest little, tiny, miniscule chance that that one ship Will just happened to sail with.
Suddenly, a voice cut through Jack's thoughts.
"There's a ship! Merchant vessel by the look o' her." Jack turned his head slowly, inclining towards the noise. Even those promised words did not rouse him from his despair. Just another merchant ship, more trinkets to sell at a port, maybe, if they were lucky, a little gold to use without sale, but no Will. Nothing of true value.
There was a pounding on his door when he did not respond as quickly as normal if that call went up. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed.
"What's she like?" he called as he opened his door. The crew turned to face him and nodded out towards the east. It was quite a large ship, quite large indeed. Jack set aside his grief for that moment and seized a spyglass from Gibbs's hands. He peered through it.
"No colors," he said. "Now that's odd. Don't like the looks of it. We'll trail it for a while and see if it's worth our time." Still, he had a strange feeling about it, one he had never felt, and he was curious. Jack knew they would take it, no matter what he said.
But they trailed it, and Jack felt quite antsy all the time, unlike he usually was. He wanted...needed to take that ship now. Finally, he barked out the order, when they were close enough to it, to raise up their black flag and prepare to board. The Black Pearl fired one warning shot as they came alongside the other ship. Grapples secured them together, and Jack's crew boarded, Jack jumping across the distance with ease and swaggering up to one of the men, his grin on his face.
"Kindly surrender," he said. This man turned to another, obviously the captain, and the captain dropped his weapon. Jack nodded his thanks.
"Wonderfully appreciated, good lads," he said. "Now, what loot might you have to catch a pirate's fancy?" The captain came forward. He was a tall man, well built and well tanned, with beady brown eyes. He looked down at Jack, who casually cocked his head to one side.
"We have no goods here but our own supplies," he informed Jack. "We are of no interest to you, not even merchants. We never do harm to pirates and allow them to continue their practices, so please, leave without doing any harm." Jack opened his mouth in thought.
"No, actually, you are. We were in need of some supplies. Men, go get what we need!" he shouted to his crew. They scurried off to the hold, and Jack ran his hands along the railing of this ship. "What a beautiful ship. Large, strong. But whom she flies under? I saw no colors on you." The captain shook his head.
"We sail under no flag," he announced, but when Jack pressed for more information, he would give none.
"We merely sail," was his final answer. Jack gave up, instead inspecting the rest of the ship. It would be nice to have another one, and this one proved promising. He ran his hands along the wheel, feeling much wear on the wood there.
"I do have another question for you," Jack said when the captain made to turn around from him. "What do you know of a ship called the Fleeting Dream?" The captain stopped, swiveled around on one foot, and smiled.
"Mate, this is the Fleeting Dream."
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Oh! Cliffhanger of sorts that's not really a cliffhanger but kind of in a way is because it is kinda just hanging there in a way. Now what? Answers? If I'm nice...maybe... *grins evilly* Heheheheh..... But are they good answers?