Jack continued to run away from the British troops hot on his tail, attempting to break their line of sight. He ran through as thick of canopy as he could find, hoping it would confuse them long enough for him to find a place to hide. After running through a particularly dense thicket, he quickly took cover behind a nearby tree and crossed his fingers in hope that they wouldn't see him.
"Nothing to see here but a lonely, lonely palm tree," Jack speaks to himself for no discernable reason, "A nice, green, non-verbal palm tree and I'm talking to myself again. Bugger."
Jack hears footsteps drawing nearer, but he doesn't dare poke his head out to take a look. Meanwhile, Scarfield and his troops were scouting the area, trying to see wherever Jack could've gone. Scarfield himself has his sword drawn, cutting through as much of the canopy as possible. He has a fire in his eyes, determined to find Jack and punish him for the humiliation back in St. Martin.
As one of the soldiers combs the area for any sign of Jack, he looks in every possible direction to no avail. After a few more moments pass, the soldier turns his head to the right, and before him stands Barbossa and his men, just as shocked to see him as he was.
"PIRATES!" he screams at the top of his lungs, "PIRATES ON THE PATH-"
Barbossa raises his blunderbuss cane and fires at the soldier before he can finish his statement, blowing him back several feet. At the sound of the thunder-like gunshot, the other soldiers turn their attention to the pirates and begin to run towards them, Scarfield at the rear.
"Retreat, boys! Take cover!" Barbossa orders, and he and his men quickly hasten to take cover from the remaining British soldiers.
Jack was still standing behind the trees and therefore didn't see what happened, but he recognized that booming, West Country voice all too well. It was a sound he both loved and hated and hadn't heard it in years.
"Hector?" he asked aloud. Jack then chuckled, for now it really seemed like the past few days were some big reunion party he didn't know about. But then a pressing question formed inside his head: What was Barbossa even doing here?
The question left as soon as it had came, for Jack now realized that he had an opportunity to escape while Scarfield's men were preoccupied with Barbossa's instead of him. Carefully, he stepped out from behind the tree and began to walk away from the incursion, where Barbossa's men were starting to flee from the area while Scarfield's men were in pursuit. Jack hoped that Barbossa would be okay, but that man was no stranger to sticky situations so Jack didn't fret too much on his well-being.
As Jack was walking along, he failed to take notice of the coconut that had fallen on the ground from one of the nearby trees. Because of this negligence, when he extended his right foot to continue his venture, he stepped down on the coconut by mistake and it rolled from beneath his foot, causing Jack to lose his balance.
"EEP!" Jack squeaked as he fell onto his back. As he started to pick himself off of the ground, Scarfield heard this and stopped in place, turning his head towards the noise. Meanwhile, his men continued to pursue Barbossa without him.
Jack had lifted himself perpendicular, resting his palms against the ground as he looked at whatever caused him to trip. After scanning for a moment, he caught sight of the coconut on the ground. Raising an eyebrow, Jack picked up the coconut and started to eye it very peculiarly, like it were about to blow up in his face or something. He tossed it from one hand to the other, then sniffed it, and spoke aloud, "A coconut. Hmm."
Jack heard the sound of a gun cocking into place, and his eyes widened in surprise. He quickly turned his head to see Scarfield standing directly behind him, pointing his pistol right at his head.
"Got you now, pirate," Scarfield said through gritted teeth, whereupon Jack quickly got off the ground, still holding onto the coconut.
"Ah, well if it isn't good ol' Captain Pissant! So nice to see you again, and on such short notice too!" Jack spoke in his charismatic manner, "Did you travel all this way just to see me? I'm flattered, I truly am."
"I intend to see you hanged, Sparrow," Scarfield spat, "You and your little band of pirates are coming with me back to St. Martin."
"Oh, thank you very much for the invitation, I really appreciate it," Jack spoke with a grin upon his face, "But there's a rather long waiting list of people who want me dead at present, savvy? I think I'll have to take a raincheck on that one."
Scarfield grunted in annoyance, and then Jack, gesturing with the coconut, said "Hey! If you have the time right now, I can show you how to make my famous Coconut Rum Punch! It's a little something I picked up in Barbados, very refined in it's flavor-"
Scarfield fired his pistol towards Jack without warning. When the smoke from the end of his gun settled, Jack was standing there completely unharmed for the bullet had struck the coconut instead, made evident by the milk pouring out through a newly formed hole. Scarfield stood flabbergasted at how that shot didn't kill Jack, and Jack was eyeing the coconut oddly again. In another moment, Jack raised the coconut and let some of the draining milk pour into his mouth. Once he had finished, he resumed his gaze towards Scarfield who was still stupefied by what just transpired.
Dropping the coconut onto the ground, Jack stepped forward and gestured with both of his hands, saying, "That's not very nice."
Jack then drew out his hanger from his scabbard and stood before Scarfield with his casual demeanor still present. Upon this, Scarfield drew his own smallsword from his own scabbard and stared down Jack.
"Swords are much more elegant, don't you think?" Jack quipped, "I mean, don't take it personally, but that pistol of yours is unusually large. Is that overcompensating for something or-"
Before Jack could finish, Scarfield swung his sword towards Jack, who easily cast the enraged strike to the side. Scarfield struck again, which Jack blocked again. Three strikes in rapid succession, all blocked. But Scarfield kept pressing into his attacks, forcing Jack to back up more and more. Quick blows from Scarfield came in from above and below, and Jack had to keep up with the officer's speed to avoid being struck. But it was hard to manage for Scarfield was quite skilled when it came to swordfighting, and historically it was not Jack's strongest suit.
Scarfield kept pressing more and more, and eventually Jack had to break away so that he could formulate a plan to turn the tables on him. He looked over his right shoulder and saw a smooth, rising incline along the side of a rocky hill going very high up. He quickly resumed his attention towards Scarfield and parried another one of his attacks.
Jack then started to back up towards the incline, using Scarfield's determination against him. He kept backing up, not once striking offensively, and let Scarfield push him upward on the incline. They kept getting higher and higher until they reached the top the hill, whereupon Jack decided he should start going on the offensive. He struck towards Scarfield's legs, but that attack was blocked swiftly by the officer. Jack struck above, but that too was blocked. Still, Jack began to press into Scarfield hoping he'd eventually give way. More and more, Jack kept pushing Scarfield towards the plateau on top of the hill, which Jack now realized was a very steep drop down.
Scarfield started to fight back, striking offensively at the same time Jack did and their swords locked into place, grinding against each other. While both men struggled to maintain this hold, Jack decided to speak "You know, you're very good at this. I commend you. But trust me when I say that you can't beat me."
"Oh, I like to think that I can," Scarfield snarled.
"I dueled with Davy Jones with a broken sword on the mast of the Flying Dutchman during a maelstrom," Jack stated plainly, "I'm certain that I'll win, not to brag."
The two broke away and continued exchanging quick strikes with one another. The metal from the swords tapped together in an almost rhythmic pattern as they glistened in the afternoon sun. But Jack realized that he couldn't keep this up for too much longer. He broke away again and had to start breathing heavily to overcome the exhaustion that he felt. God, he hated getting old.
Scarfield noticed he was getting tired and did not hesitate to take advantage of this knowledge. He kept swinging his sword with more power in each strike, until eventually he had Jack standing with his back towards the edge of the plateau. Jack quickly looked down behind him and saw that there was a fog that had quickly formed and clung to the air, and so he wasn't able to tell exactly how far the drop was.
Jack turned his head forward again to see that Scarfield was pointing his sword directly at his chest. A devilish grin was formed upon the officer's face, whereupon he said "Any last words, pirate?"
Jack looked down towards the fog again, and considered his options for a moment.
He looked back towards Scarfield with a calm expression on his face, sheathed his hanger back in his scabbard, smiled, and uttered, "Ta."
Jack put two fingers to his forehead with his thumb extended, and then he hopped backwards off of the cliff and started screaming.
Scarfield, shocked, rushed forward and looked over the edge to see where Jack went, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Barbossa and his men had managed to evade Scarfield's men, and were now quickly trekking their way through the forest to see if they could find another way to reach Jack. Fortunately, none of his men had died, but that encounter had been too close to call. Barbossa was short-handed as it was, seeing as Salazar had killed a sizeable amount of his crew already. He couldn't afford to lose any more men.
As he and his men continued on, Barbossa started to get lost in his thoughts, something he rarely did. He had lost too much already to Salazar, and yet he was still doing the Spaniard's dirty work for him. He knew that Salazar would kill him too once he delivered Jack, that much was clear, but what Barbossa didn't know was why he had chosen to do this in the first place. He could've left well enough alone and Salazar probably would never have found him. He would've killed Jack straight away and Barbossa would've gone away unscathed.
No, Barbossa already knew the answer to that question, try as he may to tell himself otherwise. He did this for himself, without any regard for Jack, his crew, or anyone else that matter. He did this just so he could continue to have it all. The past few days had been an interesting experience for him, because he had been selfish his entire life but it was only now that he actually acknowledged it. Stranger still, he felt remorse for what he'd done. All his life he wanted to be known as the most feared pirate in the Caribbean, to be surrounded with as much notoriety and gold as he could get. He swindled and murdered anyone in his way to get this power, and he finally had what he always wanted. He had control of the seas and a fortune beyond compare.
But was it worth it?
Salazar was right. As bloodthirsty and cruel as he was, he was also right. Barbossa knew nothing of honor. He had no principles that he stood by, no true respect, nothing. He had betrayed Jack enough times to prove that there wasn't a soul that cared about him, he had dishonored the code of the Brethren Court with his barbarism when he was cursed, and he murdered innocent people who did nothing more than get in his way from obtaining more, and more, and more. He had his gold and he had his glory, but all of that seemed worthless in his mind right now. At least Salazar had a cause that he lived and died for, a higher purpose that extended beyond himself. What did Barbossa have?
He couldn't dwell on this matter. He had to find another way to Jack with his men, and this island was so large it was difficult to navigate.
"Oi, Captain!" Murtogg called out from ahead, "Three figures up ahead!"
Barbossa tensed up and put a hand to the Sword of Triton, prepared to use it, but then a familiar voice called out from the distance.
"Hold your fire! We're not hostile!" the voice of Joshamee Gibbs called out from the distance. Soon he came into full view of Barbossa's crew, his arms raised, accompanied by the dwarf Marty, the mute Cotton, and the latter's parrot.
"Well, well, Master Gibbs!" Barbossa greeted with a smile, "Haven't seen ye since White Cap Bay!"
"Captain Barbossa, it's been some time indeed," Gibbs said, his voice a little more stern.
"And what ye be doin' on this island, might I inquire?" Barbossa asked.
"Right now, trying to locate Jack so we can get off," Gibbs stated bluntly, "Unfortunately, our ship crashed along the shoreline, so we're pretty much stuck here for the time being."
"One problem at a time, Gibbs," Barbossa stated, "Right now, we must find Jack before the Redcoats get their hands on him."
Gibbs, Marty, and Cotton then began to follow Barbossa's group as they continued on.
Jack had no plan for after he jumped. All he knew is that he didn't want his end to come at the hands of Scarfield of all people. He had faced a kraken for Christ's sakes; he wasn't about to be done in by some overzealous snob of a soldier.
As he was falling, time seemed to slow down, and he looked quickly to see if there was anything he could grab onto, like a branch or a vine or a jagged rock or something. But there was nothing within his reach, and so he kept on falling, screaming while he did so.
Jack didn't know if he would survive this, but at least he could say that he died on his own terms.
Or not. You can't say you died on your own terms if you're not alive to say that you did.
Suddenly, Jack looked below him to see that enough of the fog had cleared for him to make out what looked like a lake beneath him. He braced himself, and then felt his body smack against the water's surface as he splashed into the lake. After letting himself lie still in the water for a moment, he pulled himself to the surface and gasped for breath.
Opening his eyes, Jack looked around him to see the surrounding environment. What was surprising was that not too far away from him looked like a campsite that was long abandoned, as evidenced by the tattered tents and untouched stone campfire circles. Jack grabbed his fallen hat and swam towards the edge of the lake, pulling himself out and standing up straight. He shook the water off of his hat and placed it back atop of his head, and then shook both his legs to get rid of some of the water that clung to his clothing.
Once that was done, Jack decided to look around the camp to see if there was anything that he could use. He checked all over the place to see if something caught his fancy, and much to his delight, he found two half-filled bottles of rum inside of the second tent, to which he smiled in glee over the lucky score. Oh, after what transpired today alone, he was totally overdue for a drink.
It just occurred to Jack afterwards that most of the day had passed already, and he could see the glow of evening begin to set in. Upon realizing it was this late already, he just hoped that Henry was okay. Will and Elizabeth would have his hide if anything were to happen to him.
Jack continued to walk through the forest, deciding to wait until he found a good spot to camp for the night to have his rum. The British were still out looking for him, and he didn't want to risk being caught off guard.
As he decided to walk between two palm trees, he suddenly stopped in place and gave a high-pitched scream when he saw something metal swing from around the corner of the tree on his left and stop at his throat, causing him to drop both bottles of rum onto the ground before him. Jack looked down at the object and saw the blade of a slightly rusted cutlass mere inches away from him. He looked to his left, expecting to find any one of the two or three parties that were trying to kill him, and much to his surprise and relief, it was a very familiar face.
"Oh, it's you!" Carina exclaimed, stepping away from the side of the tree and pulling the sword away from Jack's throat, "Sorry about that, Jack."
"No apologies necessary," Jack said, recomposing himself, and Carina sheathed her sword. After she had done so, Jack furrowed his brow when he observed that she was now wearing pirate's clothes and wondered why that was. He was about to ask her about it, but then he caught a whiff of the stench of death about her and had to avert his attention away from her as he covered his nose.
"Ugh, you smell terrible!" Jack complained, to which Carina simply crossed her arms and rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Did you get those clothes off a dead man?"
"Yes, actually," Carina responded bluntly turning her head to observe the surrounding area, "But it's not like I have many options to choose from, now do I?"
Jack didn't respond to her statement, instead choosing to crouch down to pick up both bottles of rum from where he dropped them on the ground.
A thought occurred to Carina as she looked back towards Jack and realized that he was all alone, asking "Where's Henry?"
"Hmm?" Jack asked, standing up straight again.
"Henry, wasn't he with you?" Carina asked again, her voice sounding more worried than before.
Jack sighed, and then said, "We got separated. Apparently, our old friend Scarfield managed to track us from St. Martin, and he's none too pleased about us forgoing our executions."
Jack then began to walk forward past Carina, saying, "Don't worry about Henry, the lad can take care of himself. What we need to do right now is find a place where we can take shelter for the night."
"What!?" Carina asked, following after Jack, "But- we can't just stay here for the night! We've lost too much time as it is! The path to the Trident will be gone come sunrise two days from now, and we need to find our people and get out of here!"
Jack abruptly stopped and turned around to face Carina, forcing her to stop in place as well. Afterwards, Jack spoke, "Allow me to break it down for you, girl. Salazar is still out on the ocean, the Royal Navy is trying to kill us on land, I don't know where me bloody crew is, and to top it all off I haven't had a single drop of rum since last night. What we need to do right now is find a spot to camp for the night and regroup. No doubt that Scarfield's troops are settling in as we speak."
"This is just a gigantic waste of time," Carina complained, arms crossed.
"It's called being patient, love," Jack said, "Like that Langland fella said, 'patience is a virtue.'"
Carina didn't say anything, but she looked at Jack suspiciously for a moment. Soon after, she asked "You know Langland?"
"Of course I do, I read," Jack stated simply, "Sometimes. Maybe. It's been a while since I've actually read a book."
Carina continued looking at Jack with surprise, a recurring feeling she got whenever she was around him. Jack was nothing if not full of surprises.
But she realized that she was getting sidetracked by where this conversation was going. She needed to get back on point if they were to get off this island and find the Trident in time.
Carina closed her eyes and shook her head, and then she said, "Whatever, I don't have time for patience."
She tried to brush past Jack to continue onward, but Jack had placed his left hand, still clutching onto one of his bottles of rum, on her shoulder. Carina stopped turned her gaze toward Jack, and her temper began to rise, saying, "Get your hand off me. Who do you think you are?"
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Carina pointed a finger towards her and threatened, "If you say 'I'm Captain Jack Sparrow' again, I swear to God I'll punch you in the gob."
"Carina, listen to me," Jack said, his tone more stern and serious than before, "There's nothing more we can do tonight. We have to make camp and we'll leave in the morning."
With a look of disgust on her face, Carina raised both of her hands and pushed Jack away from her, causing him to stumble backward a few steps and look at her with surprise. Emboldened by this act, Carina drew her sword from her scabbard and pointed it towards Jack.
Jack said nothing, but merely set the bottles of rum down onto the ground where he was standing, never once taking his eyes off the blade while he did so. Once he finished, his gaze shifted from the blade to the girl's blue eyes where he saw the anger burning behind them, a dark characteristic lurking within her. But at the same time, there was a gentleness even as her gaze was fierce, a certain pure quality that Jack couldn't quite place his finger on. It was even soothing to an extent, and that made Jack feel slightly uncomfortable. Slightly.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Carina's voice saying, "You dragged me into this nightmare. I'm not settling down now."
"Carina-" Jack began, but Carina cut him off by saying, "We're this close, and you just want to stop?"
"No, it's-" Jack tried to continue, but Carina interrupted him yet again, saying, "The Trident's within our reach! Why would you want to stop now of all times? Are you daft or someth-"
"ENOUGH!" Jack bellowed, causing Carina to flinch slightly and stop talking. A beat. Jack cleared his throat, and then calmly said, "Enough. We will find the Trident. I promise you. But for now, we need to get some sleep, alright? We'll be back on the water first thing tomorrow. I swear."
Carina started to lower her sword lightly, taking in what Jack had to say. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. The glow of the evening started to dissipate, slowly replaced by a subtle shadow that engulfed the forest they were in. There was nothing more they could do tonight.
Jack exhaled through his nose, and turned around to continue walking onward. Before he even set his foot down to walk forward, he pivoted himself around again to face Carina again and said "Sorry, I needed to say that."
"You know what? I'm already over it. Nothing to worry about," Carina said, pursing her lips together, and then Jack said, "Ah, okay then."
Jack turned away from her, and then he turned right back yet again, saying "And just so you know, if you threaten someone with a sword again you'll have to do a much better job at actually, y'know, threatening them."
Carina raised an eyebrow.
"I think I was doing a pretty okay job myself for my first time, considering the fact that you squealed like a six-year-old," Carina said, to which Jack laughed in response.
"So you admit you've never held a sword before?" Jack asked, turning the tables on her.
"I- well, I- um..." Carina tried to explain, but Jack didn't wait for her to finish her thoughts before he said, "It's perfectly fine, only if you're going to be carrying around something sharp like that it'd be wise to know how to properly wield it, savvy?"
"Well..." Carina began, "if you were to give me some pointers, then I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
Jack grinned at this, and then he drew his own sword from his scabbard and faced Carina.
"Anyone can swing a sword, to be sure," Jack started, "but the most important thing to remember in a duel is footwork."
The two raised their swords and waited for when they would begin.
"Now, if I step here..." Jack said, stepping to his right two spaces, and Carina did the same on her end. Quickly, she swung her sword twice towards Jack who was able to parry both with relative ease.
"Very good," he said with a grin, and Carina couldn't help but grin as well, "Now I step again..."
Night was beginning to set out over the island. Darkness was fast approaching, and the British gave up their pursuit for the day and set up camp. No one had left the island the entire day, and Salazar made sure of it.
The Silent Mary sat out in the open water, having not been detected by the British fleet as of yet. The crew were becoming impatient and awaiting the return of Barbossa and his men with Jack Sparrow in tow. Still, it was not like they had any other choice for it was now discovered that none of them could step on land.
There was a small ceremony earlier in the day where the whole crew paid tribute to Miguel and Rodrigo, the two Spanish soldiers that disintegrated upon touching the dry beaches. The men simply could not believe that they were gone. Thirty years they had spent together trapped inside the Devil's Triangle, and though they were all in constant agony from their curse, the one thing they did have were each other.
But now they were gone. Again. All thanks to Jack Sparrow. The only consolation for their loss for the ghostly crew were that their souls had finally been set free of the curse and were able to move on into the afterlife. Or maybe the curse ensured they went to Hell for real this time. They didn't know. They didn't want to know.
Salazar took the loss the hardest, probably because he felt the most responsible for what happened to them. He knew that it was Jack's fault that they died, but as their captain, the guilt felt like it had been lumped upon his shoulders too. It was his own hubris that led to them all becoming cursed in the first place, and for that he never stopped feeling guilty about the fate that he condemned them to.
No, he tells himself, the fate that Sparrow condemned us to.
The only consolation Salazar had for his own actions was the knowledge that it was Sparrow who mocked them, Sparrow who deceived them, Sparrow who got them all killed. And for that, Salazar would avenge his men by running his blade through the pirate's heart.
After the funeral had ended, Salazar limped back over towards his cabin, prepared to sit in solitude for a while before returning to work in commanding the ship. The men were going below to have as much of a wake as they could for their fallen.
He opened the door to his cabin and looked inside his decrepit abode. The bed was little more than stray feathers held together by bits of twine, resting overtop of the knots holding together the broken frame. Not that he needed it anyway, for his curse rendered him unable to sleep.
The windows at the back were jagged and broken. The cabinets were collapsed and molded. All manner of fine accessories and utilities that Salazar used in life were destroyed or deformed in one way or another. The only things that remained somewhat intact were his desk and chair and even those were shriveled and splintered.
Salazar got behind his desk, pulled his chair out, and sat himself down before scooting in. Once he had done so, he took his sword and scabbard off of his person and rested it upon the desk.
He then leaned with his right elbow on the table, the right side of his face (the one that was intact) resting against his palm. He sighed deeply, the sight of Miguel and Rodrigo disintegrating into nothing still burning in his mind.
He was tired of waiting. Sparrow had to die.
The door creaked open, and Salazar looked upward to see that Lezaro was poking his head through.
"Capitan," his right-hand man spoke up, "The men are gathering below decks if you wish to join."
"Gracias, mi amigo," Salazar answered, lifting his head off of his hand, "but I think I would rather be alone for right now."
"Very well, the offer's still open if you change your mind," Lezaro replied.
Salazar stood up from where he was sitting and asked, "Any sign of Barbossa yet?"
"None so far, Capitan," Lezaro told him, "Permission to speak freely, señor?"
"Granted," Salazar responded simply.
"I don't trust Barbossa to uphold his end of the bargain," Lezaro admitted.
"Nor do I, Teniente. He's a pirate, after all," Salazar explained, whereupon he picked up his sword from the table and limped his way over towards the broken windows, "All pirates act on deceit."
"Then why strike a deal with him if you know this?" Lezaro inquired.
Salazar didn't mind being questioned by his men, and after all this time he couldn't really blame them. Still, it didn't change the fact that he didn't like it.
"Because pirates also act on self-preservation. They only care about themselves," Salazar answered, staring out of the windows towards the setting sun, "Barbossa is the only one who can lead us to Jack Sparrow, and if he's smart he'll comply. My only hope is that he doesn't realize that he'll still die regardless of his actions."
"So you had no intention of holding up your end of the bargain?" Lezaro questioned.
"Like I've always said, there is no mercy for the pirate scum," Salazar answered coldly, and he turned around to face his lieutenant, "Jack Sparrow must pay for what he did to us and what he took from us. And once he's dead, we will not stop until every pirate at sea has fallen to our hands."
"Si, Capitan," Lezaro responded, his reply as firm and loyal as he ever was, "Let's just hope that day comes soon enough."
"It will, Teniente. It will," Salazar told him.
Upon this, Lezaro turned and left the cabin, closing the door behind him. Afterwards, Salazar limped back over towards his desk and sat himself down again. After sitting silently for a moment, his eyes fell upon the desk drawer on the right-hand side and he gazed at it for a moment. Slowly, his hand reached for the rusted handle and gingerly pulled the drawer open all the way. Salazar reached into the open drawer and pulled out a worn-out old picture frame of medium size, with an equally-worn out oil painting within it. He held it in both of his hands as he gazed at the images that were still somewhat discernable, and grief soon overcame him once more.
Salazar saw himself as he looked before his death, standing tall with broad shoulders as he was dressed in his clean, white captain's uniform. He could make out the details of his medals and his sideburns from the illustration. That German painter had done a magnificent job at capturing detail, but after all these years Salazar simply wondered if this portrait were nothing more than fantasy and the man he saw in the painting never existed.
But the image of his former self was not enough to cause him anguish. The figures standing next to him were the ones that shattered his heart.
To his right stood a woman about four inches shorter than him, with glistening auburn hair and eyes deep and brown. She was wearing a salmon-colored silk dress at the time this was painted. Her cheekbones were formed flawlessly as her fair skin contrasted sharply to the darkness of not just the picture's background but of the ship itself.
In front of the two adults were two young boys, neither of them older than ten. The elder of the two was wearing a dark semi-formal attire and had his mother's warm eyes. The younger was wearing lighter clothing and was sporting hair that was a dirty blond color. He had his father's nose.
Salazar brought his clammy, dead hand up to the picture of his family and caressed the images softly with his thumb.
"Mi hermosa Maria..." Salazar's voice cracked with overwhelming sadness, "Anton... Raoul..."
One of the things that his curse wasn't able to take away from him was his ability to shed tears.
He had spent thirty years in that hellhole, unable to escape. He didn't know what had become of his wife and sons in all that time, isolated from the rest of the world with nothing more than his ship, his crew, and a hurricane's worth of his anger. His wife could very well be dead, his sons grown up and not able to remember him even if he could return home.
And it was all because of Jack Sparrow. That is why he had to die.
What did that pirate bastard know about family, anyway?
"We're rascals, scoundrels, villains and knaves! Drink up, me 'earties, yo-ho! We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs! Drink up me 'earties, yo-ho!"
Carina had proven herself to be a really quick learner when it came to Jack teaching her how to handle a sword. Granted, she wasn't suddenly some master swordsman (swordswoman?) after one session, but it sufficed for a start. For whatever reason, swordfighting just came naturally to her. Carina tried to wrap her head around exactly how she was able to do so, and the only thing she could come up with is that she had a near-perfect memory and was able to imitate Jack's techniques inside her mind and translate that to her hands. That could've been the reason. But whatever it actually was, she was glad she had picked up on it sooner rather than later. Who knows when it might come in handy?
Jack was also immensely impressed by Carina's skill for her first lesson, and he felt a little proud of himself for doing something right for a change. He couldn't understand how she picked up on it so quickly, but he was glad he did. One less thing to worry about.
They had continued walking until they had found a spot to camp for the night, building a small campfire in between two fallen palm trees that they would use for protection and for sleep.
Once Carina had finished laying down the last broken branch onto the rest of the burning wood, the golden color of the flames radiating against the darkness surrounding them, she looked up to see Jack standing before her holding up the two bottles of rum that he had found.
"Congratulations on completing your first dueling lesson! This calls for celebration!" Jack grinned, but Carina had given him a skeptical glance as to what he had in mind.
"Oh, no thank you. I don't drink," Carina replied, poking the flames with a branch to keep the fire going.
"Have you ever had a drink before?" Jack inquired.
"Well, no," Carina answered honestly, "Back in London there was never any need."
"Ah, but we're not in London anymore, are we love?" Jack said, "You're in the Caribbean now."
"Doesn't mean I have to subscribe to everything that it entails. My mother raised me to have decency," Carina told him.
"And yet, you're a fugitive from the Royal Navy, sentenced to hang for witchcraft, and you're sailing with pirates to find lost treasure," Jack elaborated, "Seems like a pretty big loss of decency to me."
Carina just scoffed and looked away as Jack sat himself down on one of the fallen trees.
"I never could have imagined doing something like this," Carina remarked, "I mean... ghosts. Ghosts are real. Doesn't that shock you?"
"Trust me," Jack began, "You've seen one form of undead curse, you've seen them all."
"Sorry, it's just that I've lived my entire life based around facts and understanding, but for the first time... I can't explain this," Carina confessed.
"Not everything needs explaining," Jack said, placing one of the bottles down and opening the other, "Probably one of the great things about life is not knowing what's out there for you. Without the mystery, it becomes... less."
"I suppose," Carina said, and looked down and stared at the fire, feeling the warmth from the dancing flames.
After taking a swig of his rum, Jack opened his mouth and spoke, "So... astronomy. That's your speciality?"
"Yep," Carina answered.
"I'm curious, of all the things that a woman can possibly do, you choose that. Why?" he asked.
"That's the thing," she began, "There aren't many things a woman can do. It seems unfair how we have these delegated rules for how we live our lives whereas men can just do whatever they please. I'm not saying men should be restricted from anything, only that women should have an equal playing field. I'm smart, I studied hard in school, I'm good at arithmetic and grammar. I could do anything if I were simply given the opportunity."
"So," Jack began, "what you're saying is that you feel that societal norms prevent you from living life to the fullest, and you wish to have these shackles removed so you can be free to do what you want?"
"Yes! Exactly!" Carina exclaimed.
Jack chuckled, "You're starting to sound more and more like a pirate."
Carina raised an eyebrow, and Jack took another swig of his rum.
"You're joking, right?" Carina asked, whereupon Jack pulled the bottle away from his mouth and said, "No. I'm serious. You've certainly got enough drive to do it. You're independent and want to live freely, that's exactly what I do."
"But, you're a pirate," Carina emphasized, "That entails... looting and sailing and killing and moral indecency."
"No, see, that's where you're mistaken," Jack explained, "Being a pirate is a lot more complex than that. It's not about being on a ship, robbing people blind, the swordfights and cannon fire, finding buried treasure, drinking rum, yada yada. All that is what being a pirate can entail, not what it's all about. I'll let you in on a little secret."
Jack leaned in closer to the fire, and Carina did the same.
"Being a pirate is all about freedom," Jack said, "Pure, unhindered freedom. That's something the British Empire, or any empire for that matter, can never truly give you. You said yourself that women don't have many opportunities, well I'm hear to tell you that as a pirate you have no limits. There was this one woman I knew, green as they come when it came to piracy, gets herself elected Pirate King."
"A woman... Pirate King?" Carina asked, puzzled.
"Long story, pirate code procedures, all that frivolity," Jack brushed it off, "Anywho, my point is that there are no expectations, no boundaries, no limits as to what you can do. Is it a hard life? It certainly can be. But the reward is damn well worth it, that much is certain."
Jack leaned back towards where he was sitting, Carina likewise.
"Wherever we want to go, we go. Whatever we want to do, we do. The possibilities are endless," Jack explained, "Besides, you already got the look for it. And the smell too. Though to be fair we still wash and don't get our wardrobe from dead men."
Carina couldn't help but laugh at that last bit. Try as she might, she found it increasingly harder to hate Jack Sparrow. He was intelligent, clever, and appeared to know exactly what it was he wanted out of life. Whatever drove him to being a pirate, and an eccentric one at that, she couldn't help but feel like she was in a similar position. She had to admit that freedom was what she was after, the reason why she studied hard in school and why she gazed up into the endless heavens every night. She longed to be free, to not be judged or persecuted by the rest of society just because she had ideas that did not conform with everyone else's.
"I think maybe I'll have just a sip," Carina said, even though her common sense was telling her not to.
"Beg your pardon?" Jack inquired, pulling the bottle away from his face.
"The rum," Carina, "I'll give it a try. Not like I have to do anything urgently."
Jack's face broke into a grin, and he said, "So she finally comes around."
He picked up the other bottle from the ground, and passed it over to Carina who took it.
Carina popped open the cork, and took a whiff of the amber liquid inside. She scrunched her nose, squinted, and turned her head away."
"Whoa, that's strong," she commented.
"The taste is stronger," Jack said, and Carina then raised the bottle, saying, "To freedom, then."
Carina took a sip of the rum, and she felt the alcohol burn her tongue and the back of her throat. Almost immediately, she pulled her mouth away and started coughing from the drink she took.
"It always stings at first," Jack commented.
After she stopped coughing, Carina looked towards Jack and said, "You know, it actually isn't that bad. I kind of like it."
"Excellent!" Jack exclaimed, and then he extended his bottle out over the fire. Carina did the same and they clinked the bottles together.
"For the Trident," Jack toasted, and the two drank away.
After her second drink, Carina had said, "I'm not going to have too much more, though. I don't want to overdo it."
Had said.
Had.
It wasn't too much longer that Carina became intoxicated. Jack was still fine because his tolerance level had been built up over decades, but Carina was already drunk on her first time. Soon enough afterwards, she started to get rowdy, and Jack figured out the perfect solution to have her dispel the energy before she fell asleep: music.
"Yo-ho! Yo-ho! A pirate's life for me!" they both had finished as they danced around the fire. Jack was still sober enough to keep Carina in tune with the song, and she was laughing out of her mind while they danced.
"I love this song!" Carina exclaimed, "It's so... so..."
"Catchy?" Jack inserted.
"Yeah! Yeah, thazz the one! Ya got it. Catchy, catchy, catchy, catchy," Carina slurred, not having full control over herself, "Did- did you come up with that yourself, or... did you learn it or what?"
"Learned it, as a matter of fact," Jack said, "Old friend, we both got drunk, started to sing it. Bit simple, really, but still enjoyable."
"If it's not enjoyable, then..." Carina trailed off, "What's the point?"
"Precisely," Jack said, and Carina started to stumble some more in her steps.
"You know, you're quite the men- mentlegen, Jack Sparrrrrrooooow," Carina said, "You certainly know your way with women."
Jack's eyes widened, not liking where her frame of mind was going.
"I do, but in this case I am not with a woman. I am with a girl. A very, very drunk girl that I have no inclination towards in any way," Jack said, starting to back away from her slightly.
"Awwww, spoilsport," Carina pouted, and then raised her bottle to take another sip of the rum. Acting quickly, Jack pulled it away from her before she made things worse for herself.
"Why did you do that!?" Carina whined, and Jack put the bottle behind his back, "It was gooooood!"
"Yes it was, but unfortunately," Jack told her, pouring what was left of the rum onto the ground behind him, "it's all gone."
"But- but- why is the rum gone!?" Carina asked, and Jack looked at her in surprise.
"Normally, I would be the one asking that question," Jack answered. This was getting much too weird for him. He liked the pissed-off Carina more than the piss-drunk Carina, "But it's gone because... you drank it all?"
"Dammit!" Carina cursed, "Curse me myself and... what?"
"I think it's time we went off to sleep," Jack said, grabbing a pouting Carina by the shoulders and escorting her back to the fallen trees where they would be sleeping.
Once Jack had sat her back down on the log, Carina looked up at him and asked "Who was that ghost that wanted you dead? Mandy Sally?"
"Who?" Jack inquired, but then it became clear to him who she was talking about, "Oh! You mean Armando Salazar!"
"Yeah, that bloke," Carina asked, "What'd you do to tick him off?"
"Killed him, that's what," Jack said, "I'll fill you in later but here's some basic details. Pirate hunter, tried to kill me and other pirates, ended up having to kill him in self-defense."
"I don't think you did a good enough job," Carina said, "'cause he's kinda still here."
Carina laughed at her own comment, and Jack said, "Yeah, yeah, can't win them all. We'll find a way."
Carina lay down on her back against the log, and her eyes began to droop.
"You're not a bad man, just... life's unfair sometimes," she said sleepily, and her eyes shut as she fell into a deep sleep.
Jack was still standing when Carina fell asleep. After she did, he looked upon her with amusement upon his face. She would wake up to a nasty hangover in the morning, but for now she looked so peaceful sleeping like she did. Jack didn't know what prompted him to think this, but there was this quality about Carina that seemed so... pure. Innocent.
He saw that the fire was dying, and felt a light breeze in the air. He looked up and saw Carina shivering slightly while she slept. Jack wasn't normally one to be charitable to others, but seeing her shiver made him feel uncomfortable. Upon this, Jack took off his overcoat and rested it on top of Carina like a blanket. He would be fine, he's endured far worse climates than this many times. She, however, was inexperienced to this sort of living.
Jack's mind was put at ease when her shivering stopped. As the last spark of the fire went out, Jack then laid himself down on his own log and pulled his hat over his eyes. He fell asleep almost at once.
Carina, he thought.
That's a pretty name.
A very pretty name.
With very pretty, blue eyes.
A/N: Hey guys! Sorry about the two month delay on chapters, but just so you know I'm back! As compensation for time lost I decided to make this chapter extra long (in fact, my longest yet) so that it's worth the long wait. Really big chapter, lots of important things happening in terms of character development in my opinion. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and as always please be sure to read, review, and share the story as much as possible. Without the constant support this story would not be possible. I just want to thank you all once again for helping me to realize that there was an audience that was craving a more meaningful story with characters that feel and share emotions with each other. I know that I was. Anyway, next time will see more insight onto Jack's past, Henry's conflict with the pirates inhabiting Hangman's Bay, even more massive character development, and lots of the fun and adventure you'd expect from a Pirates of the Caribbean tale. Hope you enjoyed reading, and stay classy!
-Spent
PS, any questions that you have I will answer if you review/PM me.