Disclaimer: I do not own Captain Jack Sparrow or Elizabeth Swann (Disney does). I only play with them from time to time.

A/N: For some reason, this story has decided that all its chapters must be titled in ancient Greek. I speak less ancient Greek than I speak Latin. Consider this my cry for help. Anyway, FF doesn't take kindly to strange symbols, so it will be Romanized Greek.

Before anyone says anything, I am perfectly aware that Jack's little air cask idea wouldn't work. To put any annoyance over the impossible physics in perspective, let me remind you that you are reading a story about the lost treasure of a dead pagan sea god which is in underwater caves. This is a story. Physics doesn't apply to stories, and neither does the actual probabilty of a situation.

Hemera and Nyx are, respectively, the primordial personifications of Day and Night in Greek mythology. "Kai" means "and". I hope.

Chapter One: Hemera kai Nyx

Elizabeth hung onto the rigging with a hand, staring at the massive rock field ahead of her, a product of the volcanoes above and below the surface. She scanned the ocean as the wind stroked her face and tangled in her hair, looking for the tell-tale rock shaped like a bird in flight. She squinted her eyes and tilted her head to the left. With a certain amount of imagination, a rock to the left looked sort of like a seagull, providing the seagull had a club foot and a dislocated wing. Elizabeth gave a mental shrug. It was a good enough place as any, and they had time. She looked down at Midori, who was watching her anxiously from below.

"Port!" called Elizabeth, pointing at the deformed seagull. Midori nodded.

"Are you coming down?" she yelled. "The wind's picking up."

As if to prove her words, a strong gust that smelled of rain threatened to tear Elizabeth from the rigging. She tightened her hold and laughed aloud, exhilarated. This was her favorite place, among the ropes and taut canvas. It almost felt like flying.

"Not if I can help it!" she yelled. Midori shook her head and went to inform Dai of their new direction. Elizabeth raised her face for the wind's rough blessing, and smiled with the fierce and wild joy of a hawk on the wing.

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Jack grinned to himself a bit as he swam through the underwater tunnels, the cask tied to his wrist floating along beside him. He was looking very much forward to Elizabeth's face. The cask suddenly jerked to a stop, as the rope snagged on an outthrust of rock and jack pulled up short. He let out an oath in the form of a bubble.

Bloody nuisance, he thought murderously as he untangled it. It was absolutely necessary, this cask, and one of his more brilliant ideas, but he hated the damn thing. It was a little watertight barrel with a wax-sealed pipe in one end and a small plug on the side. One unstopped the pipe and pulled out the plug at the same time. Water came in through the plug and forced air out the pipe, so that a person—namely Jack—could snag a quick breath. It wasn't perfect, and it was really only good for one breath, but Jack only needed one extra breath to reach the caverns. He still hated it, it was just another reminder that he was getting old. He hated those reminders. There was a time where he could hold his breath for five minutes at a time and think nothing of it. Seal, they'd called him.

And now, here he was, relying on barrels of air so he wouldn't drown. He pouted as he shortened the rope, and swam on.

A few minutes later, he climbed out of the water sat on the ground, panting. He'd be the first to admit he hadn't taken the greatest care of his body, but really, this was ridiculous. He was going to end up just like his father, unable to even climb the rigging without wheezing…Jack sighed.

When he caught his breath, he made his way to the bag he'd left there a few days earlier, when they'd first arrived. It held dry clothes—his best clothes, too, not that that said much—food and, of course, rum. There was also a very small, very important object that he set carefully on a rock before taking a swig of rum. It burned comfortably on the way down, extending to the tips of his fingers and chilled toes. Jack savored it for a moment before stripping off his wet clothes and shoving them and the blasted cask into a dark alcove.

He hopped around a bit and shook himself like a dog, hoping to dry off. It worked, somewhat, and he pulled on his dry clothes. He passed a hand over his dreadlocks and straightened his waistcoat, wondering vaguely if there was a mirror anywhere. He looked around at the glittering, glimmering mess of treasure—a shipfull, and this was only the first cave—and decided it wasn't worth it.

He grabbed the little object off the rock and dropped it in his pocket. Then he sashayed down to the water's edge with a bottle of rum and dropped onto a rock. He leaned back, Elizabeth's surprised topaz gaze swimming before his minds eye and grinned. He took a swig of rum and settled down to wait.