"Get the treasure an' run!" Jack shouted.

Grabbing each end of the chest, Tumen and Fitzy darted forward. Arabella hiked up her skirts and followed suit while Jean scooped up Constance before running after them. With Jack and me taking up the rear, the five of us practically flew down the corridor as we fled from Torrents.

As we ran, thunder shook the walls around us.

When we made it back to the antechamber, however, we skidded to a halt. The two sides of the trapdoor were somehow back in place, but we knew we wouldn't be able to make it across the narrow ledges along the sides—at least, not with the chest.

"We need to abandon the treasure," Fitzy quickly said. "We won't be able to walk the ledges with it!"

"No, look!" Arabella took a daring step forward, walking right onto the trapdoors. When they didn't fall out from below her, she gave a small hop. Still, nothing happened. "It only triggers if you're tryin' t' get in, not out! Now come on!" Waving us forward, she started to sprint.

While we were scurrying across the room, I stole a quick look over my shoulder only to mutter an oath under my breath. The trap had distracted us long enough that Torrents had caught up and was now coming around the corner. Seeing us, he picked up the pace as he rushed towards us.

Just as we were about to head through the doorway and out of the palace, Jack suddenly stopped and turned around.

"What're you doing!?" I cried, trying to grab his arm.

He was too fast, however, and, with a small grin, he hopped onto the trapdoors only to lithely hop back off again. The two panels swung downwards just as Torrents was about to step foot on it. He had to throw himself backwards in order to keep himself from falling in and the behemoth landed on the floor with a grunt of pain loud enough to be heard over the storm.

With him temporarily obstructed, we ran. Through the city, back up through the jungle to the clearing, and then along the trail we had cut through the foliage. It was only when we were back on the beach and the Barnacle came into view that we were finally forced to stop. The toe of Fitzy's shoe caught the edge of a piece of driftwood he was climbing over, making him go sprawling.

His end of the treasure chest hit the ground with a loud 'thud' followed by a second, quieter 'thud' when the whole thing tipped over. We watched as dozens of gold and silver coins spilled out all into the sand.

Despite the rain pelting us hard enough that it felt like a thousand tiny bullets hitting us, we all started to gather up as many coins as we could, thrusting them back into the chest. As I gathered up a fistful of coins, I looked out at the ocean. It was raging, with large waves smashing angrily against the shore. The Barnacle was still afloat, though she was receiving a good thrashing.

'Calm down,' I thought, my brows furrowing.

"Jack!" Jean shouted above the wind and rain. "Jack, he's made his way out of the palace!" He pointed behind us—not at the trail we had made, but at the dunes to the east.

We all turned to see Torrents standing atop the nearest dune; his mouth was open and he was roaring in anger. The wind and rain whirled all around him, and yet, he was completely untouched by the weather. My suspicions of him controlling the storm were mostly right, though it seemed he also acted as the eye of the storm. It made sense, though I couldn't help but wonder if he was born with that magic or came by it somehow.

Back on his feet, Fitzy grabbed his end of the chest again and hoisted it up off the ground while Tumen lifted his end. A couple of coins were left behind, but at the moment, we didn't care. Torrents was beginning to make his way down the dune.

"Give me back the scabbard, boy!" he snarled. "Or you'll suffer the consequences!"

"What're your plans, mate? Drench me t' death?" Jack retorted. He grabbed my wrist as I reached for my sword. "You protect the crew," he ordered.

"But—"

"Trust me on this." The look he wore told me that he understood the gravity of the situation—and that he had a plan.

Nodding, I left his side and, even though he had told me to protect the crew, I darted to the back of the group. Jack expected me to protect them from Torrents should something go wrong, but my main worry was the ocean. While Torrents continued to walk forward, we were backing away from him, moving closer and closer to the raging waters. The others were unable to look away from the sight of Jack and Torrents exchanging words, leaving them oblivious to their peril, even as we now stood in ankle-deep water.

I knew I had to do something—something I had promised my father I wouldn't do around people who weren't my immediate family.

"Sorry, tad," I mumbled.

Though I kept my eyes locked on Torrents and Jack, I put my concentration into the movements of the ocean: The waves swelling and coming to a crest before crashing down onto the sands. The pull of the current as it dragged them back out to sea. The churning underbelly that constantly kept the ocean's rage fed…Down to my very being, I became one with the ocean and its wrath.

And I began to soothe them as best I could—just as I had done during the storm two nights ago.

I didn't have the farthest reach yet, but around us, the waves began to pull away and lessen in their ferocity. Soon, we weren't even standing in water anymore—it was like an invisible barrier had been put around us, keeping us from being swept away by the current. When I finally tore my eyes away from the two men to look over my shoulder, I could see a tall, angry wave coming towards me. Just seconds before it would crash over my head, though, it broke, the seawater harmlessly floating off to join a different wave some yards away.

Though we were still being pelted by rain, whipped about by the wind, and, now, getting pummeled by hail, the ocean was no longer of any concern.

When I looked back at the shore, it was in time to see Jack picking his hat off the ground; it had been blown off a few minutes ago and was, by now, filled with water.

Water that Jack then flicked onto Torrents.

A second later, there was an enormous explosion. Jack was thrown backwards and, where Torrents had been standing, the man was now lying in a smoking heap. I would have thought him dead, but his chest heaved painfully as he breathed.

I looked around me and could see the waves beginning to calm on their own. Hoping the others hadn't noticed, I relinquished my hold over the waters, letting them flow around us once more and leaving us to stand in shin-deep water. I felt lightheaded, but I did my best to ignore the sensation for now.

"What happened to him?!" Fitzy cried, gawking at the smoldering pirate.

Jack, who had gotten back to his feet, wore a cheeky grin. "Never you mind, Fitzy. What's important is the storm is gone—for now."

And gone it was. Above us, the sky was clearing, freeing us from the wind, rain, and hell—er, I mean hail. As the minutes went by, the ocean grew calmer and calmer, though it remained a muddy brown in color thanks to all the sand and silt that had been stirred up.

Taking advantage of the sudden lull, we started to wade our way out to the Barnacle. By all means, it seemed like the others hadn't noticed what I did, which made me breathe a sigh of relief. That is, until…

"Emil!" Arabella gasped as I went to hoist her up so she could reach the railing. "Your face—It's covered in blood!"

"Is it?" As the others looked at me with concern, I swiped my hand across the lower half of my face. It was, indeed, covered in blood. "So it is. I guess the hailstone that smacked into my nose hit a little harder than I thought. But, it's nothing to worry about," I assured her, laughing it off. "It looks worse than it is because I'm soaking wet." I wasn't worried about it; it was just a side effect of using too much magic all at once, given how inexperienced I still was.

She pouted and then shook a scolding finger at me. "Nosebleeds aren't laughin' matters, Emil! I once had an uncle who had a nosebleed last for so long, he bled t' death!"

I cringed at that information. "If it goes on for too much longer, I'll try to cauterize it, alright?" I promised. Rinsing my hand off in the water, I then offered it to her so I could try to hoist her up once more.

Still wearing the pout, she glanced at my palm before looking back up at my face—which I'm sure looked even worse than before now that I had smeared the blood around—only to sigh and step forward. "I'll give you ten minutes, lad," she warned as I picked her up. "Ten minutes an' if it's not done bleedin', we're cauterizing it."

Though the thought of shoving a bit of hot metal or the smoldering end of a stick up my nose was not pleasant in the least, I chuckled. "Understood. I'll do my best to will it to stop."


Once we were all aboard, we made quick work of hauling in the anchor and sailing away from the island. Fitzy and Jean stashed the chest of treasure away in the hold while me and Arabella found places to hang hammocks for Jean and Tumen. Constance, meanwhile, was carefully inspecting the ship, poking her little nose into any place it would fit to make sure the vessel was up to her standards.

At least, I assumed that's what she was doing. It's rather hard to ask a human-turned-cat what they were doing.

Given the ordeal we had gone through, as soon as the sky began to darken, we decided that it was time for bed. Fitzy, being the only one of us with any semblance of energy left, offered to take the first watch and I offered to take the second. Jack would take third while Jean volunteered for a potential fourth. With the watch order set, we left Fitzy on deck and went to get some rest.


It felt like I had just hunkered down in my hammock when I was shaken awake. Fitzy stood above me, one hand on my shoulder while the other held a lit lantern.

"My turn already?" I half yawned, half mumbled as I sat up.

He held the lantern out to me when I got out of my hammock. "Yes, it is, and it'll be a fairly boring four hours for you at that. All is calm and well out there."

"After the last few days, I'd rather half calm and boring than stormy and exciting," I chuckled, taking the lantern from him. "Sleep well, Fitzy." As I walked off, he made a noise that was more distaste for the nickname than it was thankful for the well wishes.

Once on deck, I gave the area a cursory look around and found that, indeed, all was well. 'Wonder what I should do to occupy the time?' I thought. 'Could go back down and get my journal…'

I hung the lantern off of the mast before going over to the portside railing and looking out over the moonlit waters. A small smile came to my lips; I loved (and still do love) the way the ocean looked at night. It was like a blanket of indigo velvet with a glittering strip of white silk right down the center.

Out of nowhere, the feeling of being watched came over me, making a shiver run down my spine. Though I hadn't heard anyone else come on deck, I turned around to see if one of the others was there. But the deck was void of all life, save for myself…and the figure I saw in the corner of my eye.

Turning to face the person, I found myself looking at a middle-aged man who, by all means, looked like a completely normal person—save for his eyes. They were the same deep blue as the sea and his pupils were glittering white like the moonlight.

"What're you doing so far from Holyhead?" I asked him. "You must be exhausted, being so far from home."

His brow rose as he took a seat on the railing. "What are you doing on a fishing trawler in the middle of the Caribbean instead of on the Wanderlust, heading for New England?"

A sheepish smile came to my lips and I gave a small shrug as I started to walk towards him. "We were attacked by pirates," I answered, being sure to keep my voice low so no one below would hear us. "We were given the choice to be sent adrift or join the pirates. I chose the latter."

"That hardly explains why you're in the middle of the Caribbean on a fishing trawler, Emilianna," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

I winced slightly as I heard my actual name for the first time in ages. "It's a long story, tad," I sighed.

"We've plenty of time before your watch is over," he stated, "and your mother is going to want a thorough explanation as to why our daughter's taken up piracy of all occupations."

Also taking a seat on the railing, I smiled innocently. "I haven't 'taken up' piracy," I corrected. "I'm slowly and subtly being introduced to it."

He gave me a dry look—a hard thing to accomplish, given who he was.

"Alright, alright…I'll tell you everything that happened," I said, sighing again. Shifting my position slightly, I started to tell my father everything that had happened since I joined the pirate crew, from how I was unceremoniously left to fend for myself in Shipwreck Cove to what had happened earlier in the day with Torrents. As I spoke, I kept a careful watch on his face, looking for any hints of change in his expression.

But he was a being who was extremely good at hiding what he was really thinking and feeling—a trait I had inherited from him.

When I was finally done, I rubbed the back of my neck and waited for him to respond. By all means, I was expecting him to scold me—I wasn't raised to be an apprentice to a pirate's son, and yet, here I was, being just that.

"You have the Scabbard of Cortes aboard this ship?" he finally asked, his face and voice completely neutral. "And you intend to track down the Sword of Cortes as well?"

"…Yes?"

"Hm." Rising to his feet, he looked out at the horizon, his brows furrowing somewhat. "You do realize how dangerous such an item is, correct? This is no ordinary sword and scabbard you and your friends are seeking out."

"Given that, when one also owns the Scabbard of Cortes, the sword gives a person the capability to conquer entire empires, yes, I know how dangerous it is." I watched him, my brow starting to rise.

"Good." He turned towards me and set his hands on my shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. "When you find the sword, Emilianna, I want you to take it to a woman who goes by the name Tia Dalma."

I frowned; that was the same woman who had turned Constance into a cat. "Tia Dalma?" I repeated.

"Yes. She will be able to keep the sword from getting into the wrong hands."

"But what's to keep her from using it herself?"

He quietly chuckled. "She has no need for a sword like that—not when she has magic of her own."

"So, she's a witch of sorts?"

"Yes…but also, no." He glanced around to make sure we were truly alone before lowering his voice to barely a whisper. "I've told you the tale of Calypso, yes?"

I nodded. "How she was a goddess who was forcibly bound into human—Oh."

"Though she no longer has the same magic she possessed when she was free, she still has a great deal of her power," he explained, "and she still does her best to watch over the waters of her beloved Caribbean Sea. When you meet her, corwynt bach, be respectful, but do not mention her life as Calypso. You wouldn't want to anger or sadden her."

I nodded in understanding. "I'll be a perfect gentleman to her."

Letting go of my shoulders, he straightened up. "I must warn, you, though: There is a strong chance she will have little love for you."

"Why's that? She's never met me."

"Because, with just one look, she'll know that you're a—"

"Drystan, who in the world is that!?"

My eyes widened and my body stiffened as I heard Jack's voice; turning my head, I saw him standing just a few feet away from us. How we hadn't heard or seen him from our peripheral, I don't know, but I was thankful he hadn't shouted.

"J-Jack?! What're you doing up?" I stammered, unconsciously stepping in front of my father as if to try and hide him from view.

"I was going t' relieve myself," he said, his brows furrowed, "but I see that we've got ourselves a guest now. Where in the world did he come from, hm?" He stood up straight and put his hands on his hips in an authoritative manner; he would have looked almost intimidating if it weren't for the fact that he had to look up at us.

I nervously glanced away. How was I supposed to explain to him that my father had appeared on our boat in the middle of the Caribbean when he was supposed to be back home in Wales?! But then, with a defeated sigh, I looked back at him. "If you want the truth, I have to swear you to secrecy."

He frowned. "Swear me t' secrecy?" he repeated, his voice cautious. "Just who the bloody hell is this bloke supposed t' be, Emil?! Some sort o' mass murderer?" He looked my father over, his upper lip drawing back slightly in disgusted uncertainty.

"What?! No—nothing close to that," I assured him. "He is, however, someone the others can't know about, alright?"

Eyeing me warily, Jack did his best to assess the situation, as strange as it was. Thankfully, it seemed our month and a half of friendship worked in my favor, because he let out a small sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. "Alright. I swear on pain o' death I shan't tell anyone what you're about to tell me—but only because I trust you, Drystan."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, because if I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be about to tell you this," I said, my tone a bit defeated. "Given how we're in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight for miles, I know this is going to be a wee bit hard for you to believe, but—well, Jack, this is my father, Llŷr."

Beside me, my father nodded; in front of us, Jack looked understandably confused. "I had a feelin' he was related t' you somehow, Drystan, given how you look like a younger, beardless version o' him, but just how in the world did he bloody well get on our boat?" he demanded. "I know for a fact ye didn't have him stowed away—I searched this ship deck t' bilge today, lookin' for anywhere I could hide our treasure."

"That's…where things might get a little hard to believe," I told him. "You see, my dad's not exactly…well, human."

Jack's brow rose and he snorted. "What is he, then? A merman?" he retorted, clearly not believing me. "Or maybe some sort o' male nymph?"

It took a great deal of willpower for me to not correct him about nymphs—not only were there no male nymphs, but nymphs lived in freshwater. Nereids, on the other hand, were the ones who lived in saltwater, with tritons being the male equivalent—and I was instead about to tell him that I was the one who was close to a nereid. However, my father set his hand on my shoulder, silencing me before I could speak.

"I am neither nymph nor merfolk, Jack Sparrow," he replied, his voice as calm as the waters around us. Or, rather, they were as calm as him. "I am a god—one of many who has been charged with caring for the oceans and seas of the world. And it is because of the ocean that I was able to both track down and travel to Emilianna's whereabouts."

Once more, I stiffened as my real name was said.

Jack, however, let out a snort of amusement. "You almost had me there, mate!" he laughed, smacking his upper thigh. "A god o' the sea? That's not the first time I've heard—" He looked up at us and, when he realized neither of us were laughing, his smile faded and his laughter ceased. "…You're not jokin', are you, Drystan?"

I shook my head. "No."

His brows furrowed as he glanced between me and my father. "…If you're really a god, then prove it," he stated.

My father nodded and, as I looked back at him, I watched as his appearance suddenly changed. He still stood beside me in the form of a human, but his entire being was made of water. A second later, he collapsed into nothing more than a puddle on the deck.

"Wh-wh-what just happened?" Jack stammered, his eyes wide as saucers. He took a few tentative steps forward before using the toe of his boot to check the puddle. "He just—he just—"

"Shed my mortal form in favor of returning to my divine one." Looking out at the water, we now saw that, from the waist up, my father was out in the ocean—and he was enormous; at least the size of the boat. His voice, however, remained quiet to our ears. "Do you believe me now when I say that I am a god, Jack Sparrow?"

Jack gawked up at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. It was a good thing I was keeping an eye on him, because a few seconds later, his eyes started to roll back in his skull. His legs buckled slightly and he started to tip over, making me swear. I darted forward, easily catching him before he could hit the deck.

I eased him down so that he had his back against the bulwark before letting out a heavy sigh. "Well, that went a bit better than I was expecting…"


A/N: Hey, look! I managed to update one last time before the end of the year! And now we finally know why Emil has such an affinity for the ocean. Now the question is how is Jack going to handle this news once he wakes up and has time to process it? Or the realization that Emil is, in fact, an Emilianna? All shall be properly explained in the next chapter~!