Legends of the Treasure Child

The Black Pearl felt incredibly sorry for herself. Her black sails were in ashes, the main mast was almost gone, and several critical beams under deck threatened to give in under the weight, damaged as they were by massive attacks by cannonballs. The wheel was but a ruin, making her almost impossible to navigate. But there were three bright points which lightened up her day, and the first was that she was still floating. Second, Captain Jack was back, which meant more adventures awaited her, and thirdly there was this newcomer, Jack’s son. He was strong in the ways of magic, and spoke her language fluently, understanding every creaking noise, every moan from every floorboard. He’d come onboard her, and she’d felt like her lost son had returned home. He’d put his hands on her railing, and she’d felt like he was making love to her with his palms, murmuring softly to her, promising to restore her and take good care of her. If she could have cried, she would have, falling in love with that handsome, long haired pirate’s son. She watched them tie large ropes to her and then to the Dutchman, towing her after the infamous boat. Jack showed John around, told him glorious stories of Jack’s adventures with the Pearl, and how she once was known as The Wicked Wench. John smiled at her when Jack didn’t look, smiled some more and whispered her name the way one would whisper the name of one’s lover, as she trembled when she felt his breath on her walls. She felt pristine again, like a vessel on her maiden voyage. She listened to father and son as they made their way down below, inspecting what was left of the crew’s quarters, the cargo hold and the prison area. She heard them turn dire and contemplative, and she didn’t like the sound of the what ifs and maybes that Jack was tossing around, explaining John how it all worked. His strengths clearly didn’t lie with running a ship and maintaining it, but the Black Pearl didn’t blame him for his questions. They couldn’t all be born pirates, and John was definitely something else. John laughed out loud when Jack told him he’d once been a man of the East Indian Trading company, finding that to be the most amazing and unbelievable story of them all. Jack disappeared up the stairs back onto deck, and John was about to follow him. But he stopped, as mature woman’s voice echoed strongly through the room. A loving, sweet voice he instantly fell in love with, the voice of a lover, a mistress, a mother.



*We are going to be such good friends, you and I*.



John simply smiled knowingly back, and went up stairs to join his father.



More than two quarters of the crew was dead. Captain Barbossa was no where to be found, nor was he floating dead in the water, so Jack assumed he was still alive somewhere. He rallied them, told them to get their sorry behinds lined up, acting like he’d been there with them, in charge as always. They all sauntered to stand, pressing pieces of cloth to wounds, wiping away sweat, shrapnel and gunpowder with weary looks on their faces. They made no scene of seeing Jack again. It was in truth as if he’d always been there, but instead they all watched to his left side, to the newcomer who was dangerously alike Sparrow, only darker somehow.

Being a pirate and having pirate blood in one’s veins did something to every man and woman who went into that sort of shady business, and sooner or later every pirate developed a sixth sense, something more than a gut feeling though. It didn’t take a genius however, to see that John Sparrow was reeking with supernatural powers, and the likeness with their captain only increased the eerie gut feeling.

Mr. Gibbs finally coughed, getting Jack’s attention as well as the crew’s. A mess himself, he wiped off some blood from his forehead, glancing over to John who was watching him intently, his yellow eyes glowing amusedly at the first mate.



“Captain, would ye care to introduce the crew to yer, uhm—“he said to Jack, pointing over to John.



“Crew, this is my son, John. You’ll show him every courtesy, as you would any respectable pirate” Jack stated, making eye contact with everyone.



“What’s wrong with his eyes?” one of the men wanted to know, instantly regretting the question the moment it left his lips.



“It’s a strange eye disease—“Jack began.



“—I’m a half demon. That’s all” John replied, cutting a baffled Jack off. The crew immediately forgot their pains, their wounds and trials, looking confusedly at each other, tossing out questions as if Jack and John weren’t even there.



“Wha’? A demon?”



“Jack’s fornicated with a demon?”



“Not a demon, stupid, demoness—“



“—wha’ that’s like? Was she any good?” they stared at Jack, then at John, looking him up and down. Jack hid his face in his palms, sighing deeply.



“Wind in the sails, wind in the sails—“ the parrot croaked, flapping its wings.



“How come you never said somethin’ Captain? He’s a grown man, in his twenties for sure” Gibbs slapped Jack’s shoulder. Jack flashed a brief grin, wishing he could bury himself in a black hole.



“Aye, Capt’n maybe he’s just put ye under some fancy spell, makin’ himself look like ye—“



“—he’s got the evil eye, I’m tellin’ ye—“



“Bad sign indeed”, Mr. Gibbs spoke to himself, not quite knowing what to do with the staring from John. He’d been staring at Gibbs for quite some time, as if he was reading him from head to toe. His golden eyes near froze Gibb’s blood in his veins, but then Gibbs thought the better of it, picked up a broken sword and tossed it to John without blinking. John was lost in thought and was caught unawares, catching the broken sword automatically. Gibbs stopped to stare amazed as John unintentionally confirmed what Gibbs had suspected. The rays of the sun sparkled in the broken blade turned to gold, cord and tang also in shiny gold. A tremor went through the ship and the crew gasped, all of them taking one step back in awe. And they all whispered about the Treasure Child, some nodding approvingly at him. John immediately seized the opportunity.



“Stay on the Black Pearl, stay loyal to my father and his command, and I’ll make you all wealthy men. Leave, go ashore now and live out the rest of your lives as you please, I won’t stop you, no one will, and end your lives in poverty, forgotten, and alone. It is your choice. Should you choose to stay, remember, that as a part of the crew you are part of the ship for all eternity. Your feet shall never have to walk the deck of the Flying Dutchman—“



Pintel and his close friend immediately jumped forward, smiling as best they could. The word wealth said it all to them. Their comrades, the ex-british soldiers who weren’t exactly of the sharpest of knives to be found in a kitchen drawer, jumped forth too, prompted by the others. Mr. Cotton took a step forward as well, and all though he didn’t speak, John saw in his eyes that Mr. Cotton was so far the only one who’d really understood what John meant.



“—to that you have my word” John said, grinning at them, revealing his slender fangs, looking down. Those who’d stepped forward, all of the sudden realized they’d stepped across a line etched across the boards. It hadn’t been there just moments ago, had it? The sturdy, short-grown man who cut off people’s legs when they called him a midget, also took a step forward, determination in his voice as he said:



“I’m tired of being poor. It’s about time I started savin’ some for that harem I’m gettin’ meself one day”. A consenting murmur went through the crowd.



“In deed”, Jack mumbled to himself in disbelief as the rest of the men also stepped across the line, and Jack sensed that John was up to something.



“Come and feel infinity, eternity” John said, his voice filled with secrecy, his hands poised in elegant manners, the fingers working through the air, writing something. “There is much to be done, and the evening is almost here. The Black Pearl shall rise from the ashes like Phoenix reborn, to conquer—, ah bloody hell, here I go again, uhm, to dominate the seven seas with her mighty—“



“—cock” Jack coughed, instantly wishing himself miles and miles away. Had he really been thinking about the demon all this time? He spun around, screaming in his head, then spun back on his heel, facing the crew once more. “Listen, good men of the sea. Here’s my plan. We sail to Tortuga, rebuild the Pearl, take on supplies and some fresh crewmembers—“



“—and we go about terrorizing the seven seas—“Mr. Gibbs added expectantly.



“—and we are going to leave the pirating business and become a legitimate enterprise.” Expecting applause, Jack got none. A tough audience. He looked to John for support. The crowd were looking from him, to John and back to Jack.



“What you have in mind, Father?” John asked encouragingly.



“I have been gifted with a most talented son. With his help, and yours, it’s going to be a flying start for The Sparrow Salvage Company. The ocean floor is a haven, with shipwreck upon shipwreck filled with chests and riches just waiting for us come and collect. It’s deep, too deep for us mortals, but my son can go down there, and he can help us hoist the sunken treasures back to the surface. John can identify the shipwrecks, and then we use the knowledge to get in touch with the owners who, I’m sure would be more than happy to be reunited with their lost heirlooms. We would of course have to charge them for the effort of retrieving their sunken treasures, and believe me it won’t come cheap, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”



“Why can’t we just keep it all to ourselves?” one of the brighter ones asked.



“When the Black Pearl has worked up a respectable reputation, then…” Jack hesitated, “I, uh,…!”



“Then Jack will write a letter to the Crown of England, asking for clemency, explaining how he has converted to Christianity and wishes to be baptized by the Archbishop of Canterbury so he may be a respectable businessman and father in the eyes of Our Lord” John stated in a simple manner. Jack looked at him with a have-you-gone-mad?-look, but immediately remembered his place and nodded in agreement, smiling awkwardly as he said: “Aye. I have seen the light”.



The crew dispersed while discussing Jack’s plan among themselves, glancing warily back at John. A living legend walking among them. Mr. Gibbs stopped to stare for moment, shaking his head. Pintel came over to him, saying: “Aren’t them Treasure Children supposed to be hellish monkeys or somethin’?



“Aye. According to legend ye need tha’ be restrainin’ them by means of some magical leash, but I don’t see any”



“Maybe it’s invisible or somethin’?”



“Aye maybe. Look at them.”



“Like brothers, sort of!”



“Bad sign, tha’, for Jack, goin’ and getting’ himself a son like tha’. Bodes ill for the lot of us” Mr. Gibbs shook his head when John wasn’t looking.



John gazed over to the Dutchman, where Will stood at the helm, holding Elisabeth close. The lovers had been inseparable ever since Elisabeth had been rescued, and it warmed John in to the very core of his being to see such true love displayed out in the open, sensing they had a sphere no one but their children could penetrate. He closed his eyes for a brief second, and images came floating from the future, and John sensed that someday too, he would have something as special as love. A future family waited for him years ahead, but with whom, he could not see yet. But there were in deed children. Golden haired. Strong-headed—, hang on, golden? As in blonde? And curly? John scratched his head in wonder, not understanding the images which came to him.

Looking in other directions, he sensed brothers to come, his father with a swollen belly more than once, the deposed Demon king Thyrion looming behind Jack, protecting him. He sensed his demon father’s demise, but not his death. His entire future in the instant of a wink with an eye. The only thing he failed to see was his dominion of the Underworld. Instead he saw himself walking the two Earths through the centuries, mostly at Jack’s side, but there was no crown to be seen nor had. Maybe it was just as well. John sensed that wearing the crown meant great danger to him. He would lose more than he would gain. He lost himself in such thoughts as he helped his father clear up debris and shrapnel, sweeping the floors clean. Then the souls of the dead began to emerge, giving Jack quite the start, and he didn’t think twice before he leapt off and hid behind John, pressing his torso against the young man’s back, feeling terrible about cheating death once more while so many of his crewmembers walked towards the railing and the Flying Dutchman.

They stood there, gazing up at her, and Will lowered the sails, cutting speed to line up with the battered and hardly sea-worthy Black Pearl. Jack caught a glimpse of Elisabeth, standing behind Will, looking sad as she watched her husband and father-in-law help the damned onboard. It wasn’t the way she’d pictured that her life with William would become like. She felt robbed. Out of control of her life, of Will’s life. And their child separated from her as well. He knew exactly how she felt. He froze as he suddenly saw another dead soul to her left. It was Teague, with a hole where his heart should have been. Unawares, Jack took some steps forward to get a better view of him, clearly seeing the difference of who was alive and who was dead when he stood lined up next to Elisabeth. Jack felt the very blood freeze in his veins, spinning to see that John was standing a metre or so behind to his right. He made as to leap to John and haul him away, glancing back to find that Teague had crossed his arms, looking gloomy and annoyed, and as he saw Jack, he uncrossed his arms, leaning onto the railing. An iron chain with a neckpiece dangled from his right fist, his knuckles whitening by the second. He stared long and hard, not at Jack but at John who was tossing pieces of splintered wood over the railing. John stopped to stare back, grinning like a wicked school boy, and just then, Teague leapt over the railing just in time to catch the line which held the Pearl to the Dutchman. The crew of the Pearl scrambled away from the damned man who made his way up across the hull, climbing over the railing. The chain rattled, clanked against the wood and Jack instinctively blocked the dead man’s view, standing between Teague and his son.



“Stand aside Jackie boy, he can’t kill what’s already dead! Et Cernum ad Librium est. List et Deio Cervatus—“



“—actually, it’s Deio Cervatium am Fiblo Spiritos Maligna Inis, and you can’t complete the spell without a particular holy symbol” John laughed. In reply, Captain Teague, fished up something from his pockets. A golden cross matching the one John had taken from Father Irons.



“Ye’re not catchin’ me unawares again, golden boy!” Teague laughed, holding the cross up against John. “Et Cernum ad Librium est. List et Deio Cervatium am Fiblo Spiritos Maligna Inis, Deamonus de Thyrius son Ici Isolata—“ There was a loud bang, a shot not two metres away, and Teague’s lower jaw exploded and the spell’s power was lost. The remains of the jaw was still attached to facial muscles, hanging limp, and Teague stopped dead in his tracks as he realized he no longer could speak. They both turned towards the shooter, finding Jack at the other end of a smoking pistol.



“I had him, you know” John replied, nodding in thanks.



“No you didn’t” Jack replied nervously.



John reached out, stretching his hand demanding the golden cross, and unseen powers pulled it out from Teague’s fingers, and sent it flying across the space between them until it landed in John’s left palm. He stretched out both arms, and Teague found him to be holding a similar cross gleaming in the setting sun, between his fingers on the right hand. With both crosses pointed at him and his jaw hanging at an awkward angle, he backed away, sensing that the Treasure Child was about to unleash horrors of unknown magnitudes.



With twice the magical power at his disposal, John felt the adrenaline rush as his voice filled the heavy air surrounding the threesome. Accumulated knowledge of the dark arts collected by the Thyrions and their slaves throughout the millennia washed across his being like a riptide, and he began to chant the correct version of the incantation which Teague had attempted to pronounce. It was all too easy, John thought. For even if Teague had gotten the words right, he’d have to sing them, with the right tone, the right pitch and at the right time. It was like he’d anticipated. Teague was way under his league, a clumsy and greedy no good pirate which John felt no family closeness to at all.

William held onto Elisabeth, his nails digging into the skin of her arms. He held his breath, holding her close, feeling her heart beat fast and hard through her back as they all watched John, Jack and Teague. He glanced over to Bootstrap who was leaning on the railing next to Elisabeth, watching the scene over at the Black Pearl. John had taken the iron collar, and as it made contact with his hand and the golden cross, it turned golden itself. They watched in silence and terror as John strapped the collar around Teague’s neck. Teague remained frozen to the deck of the Pearl, kneeling infront of him and Jack, obviously struggling to be free of whatever it was that now bound him to the ground. Jack too, seemed unable to do anything but stare, and Will found it odd that he’d allow such a fate for his own father. But then again, Jack was Jack and as always he’d work in ways no one but God understood.



“What’s he up to?” Will said to Bootstrap, readying his sword.



“It’s a binding spell. A powerful one which only Witch masters of the dark arts can perform. The spell are virtually unbreakable, the magic so heavy it contaminates the very soul of the victim. And the binding is rare, said to be condoned by both Devil and God. I’ve never seen it in action before, until now, only heard of it.” Bootstrap eyed him, “you mustn’t get involved, William. Think of Elisabeth.”



“But it’s not how it’s supposed to be! He’s supposed to shipped to his final resting place!” Will made as if to jump, but both Elisabeth and Bootstrap reined him in.



They watched as Teague’s body was filled with translucent blue flames. He intended to scream, but couldn’t utter anything but a gurgle because of his shattered jaw. He then vanished into thin air, and the chain fell clattering to the deck.



“Until later, grandpa" John whispered to the chain,"you’ll make a nice first mate on The Crimson Lotus. Meanwhile, enjoy your stay in Hell.”