Legends of the Treasure Child

They returned to the Dutchman later, and though it was late, John still felt ablaze, the aura of magic still filling him. It left him hungry, dissatisfied and horny. The minute the door to the Captain’s cabin was closed behind him and Jack, he threw himself at Jack, kissing him passionately leading him over to the bed. He laid him down, and Jack tried his best to hold back, avoiding his lips, keeping his knees together, not allowing him passage. But John began to look for his nipples, unclothing his chest with his teeth, his breath hot and fast on his skin, and Jack felt himself falter, going weak and helpless in John’s embrace.

As John stopped to undress himself, revealing his torso, his perfect thighs and a strutting erection, Jack knew he was doomed. His son held this remarkable power over him, making him feel like when he had been with the demon, just not quite so terrified and a part of him welcomed the moment. He had allowed himself to be seduced, betraying himself and his principles, and now it seemed John was unstoppable. He tried to make eye contact with John, tried to talk him to reason, but John ignored him. That was when Jack noticed the two golden crosses dangling around John’s neck. His gut told him to pull them off, and Jack did so, just as he felt John force his way between his legs, the tip of his erection penetrating his puckered opening. Jack gritted his teeth, hissing as sharp pain shot through him, and he felt his son’s member inch its way into him. Having buried himself to the hilt, John felt the surge of magic leave, felt himself return to his senses as the intoxication left with the golden crosses leaving his flesh. Shock flashed across his perfectly chiselled face, finding that he’d done the unthinkable. He pulled out immediately, coming in the process, his sperm turning to golden droplets on Jack’s belly the instant they made contact with his flesh. He saw the golden crosses which Jack was clutching in his right hand, and sighed dejectedly, burying his face in the pillow next to Jack’s face.



“I am so utterly sorry” John told him, “please, don’t send me away!” He anticipated a response, anger and rage even, but none came. The silence and indifference from Jack made his heart go cold, and his eyes watered over, despairing over his own previous arrogance towards his father. “Please, say something” John said, promptly cleaning away the gold from Jack’s stomach, his fingers shaking as he carefully assessed the damage he’d done. But Jack wouldn’t let him have a look between his legs. “Please, Father, the power went to my head. I—, it won’t happen again. Say something, please!“ John wailed, feeling the pain of rejection as Jack moved to lie on his side, turning away from John, still without a word.



“We’ll talk in the morning” came the reply after some very long minutes.



“In the morning? Please, Dad, let’s resolve this now! I cannot go to sleep this way. I can’t endure—“



“—Can’t endure what?! That I for once ignore your needs? Come now, John, you’re clearly no baby anymore! I had to endure the torments of your demon father, John. He gave me no choice but to endure, to take all the pain his caused me, to have the wounds in my rear reopened every time I finally managed to be able to sit on the ground again. In horror I had to endure the sight of him rearranging my abdomen so he could impregnate me, denying me unconsciousness all just to torture me. I had to *endure* nine months with toil and hardships, being chased by an angry mob, thrown to jail, nearly hung, nearly burned at the stake and then nearly gutted by Chinese slave traders all the while you were enjoying yourself with my belly as your bloody playground! I fell in love with you while you were inside of me, John, I dared to believe that you really spoke the truth about never harming me, and now I am so utterly disappointed, for you have broken your promise. So you see, dear boy, you *will* endure this night without me to cuddle up next to, and every night from now on, until I say I have forgiven you. Do you understand?” Jack finally caught his breath, trying to hold on to his courage which was shrivelling up with each blink of an eye. For John was now the one who’d gone silent, his eyes glowing angry red in the half dark, truly looking like a demon as the shadows half hid his face. There was no telling what was going on in John’s head



“You are so powerful, John”, Jack continued, doing his best to not crumble in front of his son, “and with your powers, with the decisions you make there will always be other people’s lives in the balance, savvy? You killed many people today, giving Father Irons and Teague fates I’m not sure they really deserved. Who are you to judge? The arrogance you displayed when you dealt with Teague, truly had me worried, showing that you are in truth unreliable, toying with souls as if they were dolls. You mustn’t forget, that Will depend on the number of souls delivered to their proper resting places in order to go home to Elisabeth and his son in some two years and so. If he can’t deliver, then he doesn’t get to be a free man among the living. The more you mess about, the greater the risks are for him, for he’s the assigned ferryman and in the end the one held accountable. You are wise in the ways of witchcraft, John, but you don’t seem to be thinking any further but the tip of you nose when it comes to human relations.” Jack grew a bit bolder, seeing that his words held some effect, for John’s eyes paled back to their normal golden colour, and his face turned sad. The tears from his eyes went plink plonk as they hit the deck, turning to solid gold the instant they made contact with the wood.

“Now, my son, I want you to do something for me. Take these crosses, and rid yourself of them. They turn you into a monster. I don’t like that. I did not raise my son to become a monster.”



“Are you in pain?” he heard John sniff, wiping tears from his eyes.



“Yes, but it’ll pass” Jack replied, placing the crosses onto the wooden space between them. John dressed in silence, sighing heavily as he did, then picking up the crosses before he left, carefully closing the door behind him. He did not return that night, and the sea felt colder than usual.



Jack was troubled with nightmares that night. He dreamt of an enslaved prince in the underworld. It was a beautiful young man, bronze skinned, lithe in built and he harboured a pair of brown soulful orbs for eyes. Jack dreamt of the young man being stripped, his cloth in ancient Greek patterns torn from his body, revealing perfect taut skin from head to toe. His brown shoulder long curls framed his frightened face, and just as he was being grabbed by a dozen rough hands, he exchanged looks with Jack.



I am the key to His cage.



Jack dreamt of the prince, dreamt and watched as the young man’s hands were bound behind his back, and his beautiful face hidden behind a mask, allowing only his gorgeous brown eyes to be shown. Then in came the king, the one Thyrion, the Demon King who started John’s bloodline by impregnating his captive prince. Jack dreamt of one of a thousand rapes, where the Demon King took his prince, and while inside him, he forced an orgasm from the prince while the demon took a red hot needle from a glowing bowl, and pierced the prince’s nipples one by one, decorating them with golden rings. It was done swiftly and professionally, without any pain relief except the unnaturally long orgasm. The muffled screams from the prince hidden behind the mask rung in Jack’s ears as he saw the manhandled boy twist and turn trying to avoid the pain, as he was being held down by giant eunuchs. Jack literally saw the magic hanging thick in the smoky, filthy air. It was heart wrenching to watch, and Jack woke from his dream, just as he came hard himself, waking to the darkness of the captain’s cabin where he was all alone. For every time Jack closed his eyes, the image of the prince having his nipples pierced, came flashing up. But it wasn’t the piercing. It was the eyes. The oh so very knowing eyes behind the mask, like, -Jack rubbed his face in his palms-, like the prince was making contact with Jack across time and space, through a memory. A dead prince trying to give him a message. The Cage was undoubtedly the cage of the Thyrion. A way to lock him down, to get him under control. But why? Did it have to do with John? Would he need the cage to such time that John became the Thyrion Reborn? Was that what the prince was trying to warn him about? Was Jack going to lose John to the curse of the Thyrion soon?



Jack woke next morning to find the space next to him vacant and untouched. John had spent his night someplace else, and it worried Jack although he knew he had to keep up his stern appearance against John. The boy simply had to learn that Jack wasn’t for the taking as he pleased.

There was an insistent rap at the door, and Jack rose to answer the door, wrapping the bed linen around his waist to preserve his modesty. It was Will, and he excitedly pulled at his arm to get him out.



“You’ve got to see this. It’s the Pearl! She’s come alive! He’s been working at her with his magic all night, and he’s been hauling up crates and chests ever since first light!” Will pulled Jack with him to the stern of the Dutchman, leaning over the railing. They gazed over to the Pearl, and a puzzled Jack looked to Elisabeth who was laughing quietly next to Bootstrap, obviously sharing some joke with him. She gazed over to Jack, telling him: “He really is something! I think he’s tired now. Maybe you should check on him.”



“Have your demon boy gone mad, Jack?” Bootstrap wanted to know, “the poor lad’s exhausted himself, look! He’s fallen asleep right there on the deck!” Bootstrap pointed to the enormous golden fishtail partially covered in gold doubloons from a toppled over chest. The rainbow fin at the end of the tail hung outside the deck. John hadn’t bothered to get every piece of himself quite on board. The remaining crew of the Pearl, including Mr. Gibbs were ecstatic, swimming in cash, throwing gold doubloons over their heads, cheering for John. The very deck of the Black Pearl was covered with chest upon chest, antiques and parts of skeletons which were coming to life, phantoms taking life on each and every bone until they resembled people wearing ancient clothing Will never had seen before, though Elisabeth recognized them as Roman legionnaires. They floated over to the Dutchman, saluting Captain Turner as they landed, bearing signs of having died of diseases while on the seas. When they caught sight of Jack, they gathered around him, whispering in a language he couldn’t understand. They seemed upset, almost begging him for something, pointing over to where John lay motionless.



The Black Pearl too, was overjoyed to have been restored, and she was delighted to see Captain Jack over at the Dutchman stare amazed at her. She’d watched in anticipation during the night, as John had sung to her the most beautiful maritime incantation and spun her new black sails from his own hair mixed with magic. He’d brought her new masts from the bottom of the ocean and painted them black with the blackness of the midnight skies. Below the deck, he’d restored her hull, strengthened the support pillars, furnished new cabinets with red chestnut wood, built alcoves into the walls, stuffing the mattresses with goose feathers, enchanting them with lullaby incantations, humming as he worked with an occasional tear dripping from his eye. He’d been thinking of his father. There had been a crime, but that was all he’d wanted to share with her. She sensed his sorrow and despair, thinking that he was punishing himself too hard for whatever it was that he’d done. But he didn’t agree with her, he’d said, for he had allowed himself to be seduced by power, taking for granted what was not his to have.

When she was restored and her wheel at the helm had been repainted, he’d shapeshifted right there on the deck, allowing her to witness the ultimate use of his powers, making man and sea into one. He was such a breathtaking sight to behold, that she’d felt proud like a mother with her offspring.

Now it was morning, and Jack and Will scrambled to get over to the Pearl, and she welcomed them heartily. Jack thought he heard a woman’s laughter on the wind as he and Will climbed the rope over to her. As they climbed on board, touching the intricate ornaments of the new black railing, Will shuddered. The Pearl was different, he felt it in his bones. And as for being a creature of supernatural forces, himself, he thought he felt the Pearl’s joy of a makeover screaming at him. A sight to be seen for sure, the crew welcomed them, telling them of how John had come at midnight last night, and they’d all been terrified. But as they’d watched him go to work, their fears had left them -well, there were different versions concerning leaving the fear subject, ranging from voluntarily to involuntarily by means of being dragged along by friends either they’d liked it or not-, helping John putting the Pearl back in order. And all the time, the air had been filled with an invisible orchestra, yet many of them claimed they’d seen wings, or angels flaring up now and then over their heads.

They kept talking, their mouths unable to stop with the wonders, the gold John had hauled up, the angels in the sky, the relief to see John being one of them keeping his word, it was all so amazing—

Jack paid them no heed though, wading through the gold to get to John. He was snoring heavily, his fishtail smelling of salt and sea, sparkling in the morning light. The body had been elongated, the body of the fish starting where his hips began, his sexual organ hidden behind folds of fish skin. Will assessed John to somewhere around five meters from head to his tail, not including his long and slender fins at the end of the body. The fin itself stretched some two or three metres, adding to the overall length. In truth an impressing creature.



“John?” Jack said softly, sitting down next to his sleeping son. He put a hand on his shoulder, and the touch woke John to look into the eyes of his father. “Why’d ye do all of this, John?” Jack wanted to know, afraid of the answer to come.



“For you, Dad. For you” John replied meekly with an apology in his tone. He then lowered his head, resting it on his arm, snoring at once.



“Fixing the Pearl would have been more than adequate, but nevermind...!” Jack trailed off as something sparkly caught his eye. It hung on either side of the wall to the captain’s cabin, and at a closer look, his suspicions were confirmed. On either side of the door hung there a golden cross. John must have carved out wood and fastened them there. No wait, it actually looked like the wood itself was encompassing the crosses, like they had been sucked into place.

As Jack stood there, the door suddenly swung open, soundless and invitingly. He peeked inside, holding his breath, impressed at the wealth which welcomed him. He tiptoed inside as if afraid to wake some beast lurking in the corner. He jumped as he thought he saw a shadow move just out of the corner of his eye, instantly thinking of the Demon. Why did it still haunt him so? He was rid of it now, wasn’t he? He could put it all behind him and look forward to spending rest of his life trying to...do what? Who was he kidding? How was he to become an honest businessman? He couldn’t even read or write...? Jack scratched his head, sighing as he surveyed the finely chiselled mahogany chair, the bearskin on the floor, the empty bookshelves in red chestnut wood, the modest fireplace and the elegantly ornate stained glass in beautiful colours. Jack noticed them as he sat himself heavily into the chair, running his fingers across the desk infront of him. He sniffed absentmindedly. Was that incense in the air? Chills went down his back as he realized what the stained glass portrayed. A man with a crown floating over his head, lying on water, or perhaps bathing in the water, supporting his weight on one elbow while holding his arm up in the air, holding a key in his right hand. A key...! Jack recognized the features despite the simplification. It was the prince from his dream!

He moved on to the next glass, depicting a Thyrion he did not know, pinning his victim to the ground, his erect member disappearing between the unhappy man’s legs. Next to the figures were depicted a heap of cut off heads in a pile, and flames dominated the background. It could be nowhere but Hell for sure, Jack thought. It took a while but then he saw it, the shapes in the back, dwarfed by the flames, wearing iron masks. They were tied to the ground over a large wooden trunk, their buttocks high in the air, their legs spread and tied to the ground, all ready to be mounted. Jack felt dizzy, claustrophobic and unwell, but moved on to the next, his breath getting caught in his throat as he saw himself in the middle of the glass stained window, the red bandana across his forehead and dark brown, kohl-lined eyes identifying him as Jack Sparrow beyond a doubt. Madness! Above his own head was the Thyrion, ruler of all, with big black wings and a phallus to match. Beneath Jack’s simplified form was the shape of a merman, obviously submerged in water as the background was blue, with golden chests surrounding him. John.

Flanking the Jack figure on the right, were two black winged creatures resembling John. They were smaller, like babies, cherubs sort of, and they resided inside a red circle . Above, a little to the right, was another red shape in the form of a heart.



When Jack realized what he was looking at, he stumbled backwards, gazing across the stern of the captain’s cabin. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other glasses which helped shape the stern of the ship, forming a half circle. All different Thyrions, with different men, subdued, tortured and raped in a multitude of ways, one more gruesome than the other, all facing the same result. Children.



This had to be the chosen ones, Jack figured. The ones the Thyrions had singled out throughout the millenias. The few unlucky ones, himself included. Good grief, how he’d messed up. He closed his eyes, and found the stained glass images of himself and the babies to come, etched onto his retinas. Two more! He screamed in his head, falling to his knees. Not again, no!



Jack stood for the longest of times on his knees, feeling them ache from carrying his weight on the hard floorboards. He then removed his hands from his face, breathing deeply and controlled. There were questions he needed to find answers to. And he guessed that only John could answer them.

There was a rap on the door, and William entered.



“Hey Jack, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”



“Wha’ Will?” Jack said, hastening to meet him at the door, not wanting him to see the stained glasses.



“I feel the pull of the sea. It’s time I went ahead and collected more souls, and I can’t take Elisabeth with me.”



“Then I’ll bring her home for ye. Is she ready?”



“Aye”.



“Then we set sail at once” Jack replied, ushering Will outside.



“She needs to be united with our son.”



Jack followed Will outside and across the deck. He was still in shock, the images on his retina. He walked down the stairs, and while Will signalled to Elisabeth Jack went over to John, and roused him from his sleep.



“Get up boy, you’ve a lot to answer for. Besides, we’re escorting Mrs. Turner back to her house wherever that is.” Jack said resolutely, earning himself a puzzled look from John. It hurt as he saw that John understood he wasn’t forgiven yet. Still, looking down at that beautiful merman that was his son, made Jack feel like he didn’t know John at all. As unpredictable as Calypso.



“Father, I’ve no power to shape shift just yet” John exclaimed.



“You should have asked me before you began this madness, John. The Pearl? She’s no longer my ship. She’s become yours somehow, and if you think you can imprison me-, use her to build a cage around me so I just have to sit and wait for the Thyrion to come and claim me again, then think again. I’d just as soon throw myself overboard and become a permanent resident on the Dutchman. So get up, for this ship needs a captain right now, and it’s not me!” Jack almost shouted, his anger more apparent in his voice than he’d opted for.



“Jack? Is there a problem here?!” Will wanted to know, helping Elisabeth onboard.



“No, no problem” he replied as he watched John struggle to regain control, straining his powers to the limit as he changed his tail into a pair of feet. The magic went rippling through him, and he groaned as the transformations at last was complete. John looked up, meeting the beautiful face of Elisabeth who stared open-mouthed back at him.



“Good morning”, he said to her, “forgive me, fair lady for not granting you a smile, for I’m tired and sore and still cast out into the cold” John went on, nodding towards his father.



“You are cast out into the cold? You two had a fight?” Will asked, folding his arms over his chest. Elisabeth did the same, clearly expecting an answer. “I’m about to leave you with the responsibility for my wife, Jack, and after what I’ve seen you go through, I assume you can be trusted. And John,” Will turned to face him, hesitating as he saw that John was standing there infront of them without a thread on his body, “I—“



“—John, cover yourself. Now.” Jack said sternly. Will hadn’t seen it, but Jack had caught John’s staring at Elisabeth a long time ago, and he could see she was having difficulties not looking at him. No wonder, he was a breathtaking sight with his long brown hair and perfect build, his body language screaming ‘come-and-get-me!’ at her, to which she in reply actually took a step forward, her full lips a little open, her stare saying: ‘in-your-dreams-hotshot!’

John smiled at her, nodded his ‘I-admit-defeat-for-now’ at her and promptly took a few steps back to hide his abdomen behind a barrel. He gazed at her, then lowered his stare, to which she smiled back in reply. How awkward it was, Jack mused, that these two, of all people, obviously spoke the same language, yet they’d hardly exchanged two words at each other’s faces during the wee hours she’d been back with William.



“Now, John” Will began, “I’ve had the awkward pleasure of watching you grow up. Not even a year old and already you’re..., well you know, it’s like they say, looks can be deceiving. I’m trusting you and Jack with the reason for living. And should it come to pass that I find that something happened to her on her voyage home, I hereby swear on her blood that you’ll both have another Davey Jones on your hands, and I’ll spend eternity hunting you both. Nor you nor anyone in our kin will find peace, you got that?!” Will pointed sternly at both of them. “If I could have brought her home myself, I would.”



“The dead of the sea are calling, aye, I felt it. It’s been going on for a few days. You have my solemn guarantee, uncle Will. I will safeguard her with my own life. And your boy is still safe, anxiously waiting for his mother to return.”



“Then you must also know the straightest course to her home.”



“Aye, I do” John replied nodding to Elisabeth with a ‘sorry-for-flirting-and-you-have-my-every-respect’ look. She nodded back, a single ‘thank-you-and-you-seem-solid’ look. Jack eyed them both, rolling his eyes.



“You have me word also, Will. She’ll be safely returned. One way or another” Jack added, eyeing John.



“Good.” Will turned towards Elisabeth, frowning, feeling cold and uncertain inside. “Goodbye, my love. For now. I must be a madman to trust you with them, but then again—“



“—I can take care of myself. Don’t forget you’re talking to the King of Pirates. Be safe, William, and come home to me. Don’t forget that I’ll be waiting, right there—“ Her words were cut off by Will’s lips meeting hers. He wrapped her in his arms, crushing her tightly to him, savouring the moment. A proper goodbye. It wasn’t a desperate embrace like when he’d been forced to leave her for the very first time, no this was an embrace filled with hope, for Will knew now. He had comfort in his soul, knowing she was safe and that there was a child. His son!



“I still can’t believe I’m a father!” he whispered in her ear, the words almost choking in his throat. Separating himself from her, Will found her to be crying as well, and he kissed her again and again, until he finally found the strength to leave her.



John had been watching them the entire time. The concept of love between man and woman was hard to grasp. She acted like she was his equal, yet she was the childbearer in the relationship. Shouldn’t he be dominating her? They acted like a team. Two halves becoming one unit. And he craved so strongly to be inside her, wishing to unite with her and stay united with her frail body. But he walked away, respecting her, wasting his opportunity to reprocriate once more. For she, she spoke to him with her entire being, her kisses telling him that she would wait, that her body was his alone, ready for the taking.



The foresight struck him like lightning to a tree on broad daylight, and in the lover’s place he saw himself passionately kissing a priest. A priest! Heaven forbid! This could not be! It was a blonde haired priest, his hair short and curly, and John knew in his heart he’d just caught a glimpse of the other father of his children.



“I could seriously use some rum...!” John muttered to himself, trudging over to the captain’s cabin. The door swung open for him, the Pearl inviting him in heartily. Just before he went inside, he saw Jack talking to Will and Elisabeth. He was speaking intently, in confidence, obviously not wanting anyone else to hear him, and he saw both Will and Elisabeth casting John a disapproving glance. He entered the cabin, searching for clothes and being in dire need of rum. Why rum? Oh yes, Jack, John said to himself. All his human needs and habits came from Jack. And some from will, but Jack was the major influence on him. John had sensed it so early, and he contemplated on this, studying the stained glass windows while he dressed in black trousers and grey linen shirt with long sleeves. Absentmindedly, he draped his forehead with a black and gold bandana, and tied it in a knot behind his head, looking at the second last stained glass window closest to the door on starboard side. He hadn’t seen it clearly last night, but now the image of one of his sons as a future Thyrion made it go cold down his back. The yellow eyes and cheekbones were unmistakably his, aye, he felt it in his gut, and the Thyrion figure loomed over a young man with curly dark hair in foreign clothes. Jeans and t-shirt, the words fluttered around in his demon brain, yet he did not know what they meant. Were they important? The young man in the stained glass was kneeling, with one hand on his swollen belly. A great sense of sadness came over John, and a sense of despair and loss.

John moved on to the last stained glass, making out the figures in it. It was a strange one, with the young man in the previous one in close embrace, passionately kissing a former Thyrion gone human. A Thyrion locked in human shape! How was that possible? And they seemed to be in love. Of course! John hit himself on the forehead. That was it! The key to it all! Love. The reason he did all of these things for Jack. It was love. What made him fear losing Jack was the fear of losing his love. That was why Will chose to wait, out of fear for losing his wife again. John would love a priest. Love would bind him, enthral him. Could Jack’s Thyrion be bound as well?

These questions were the ones fluttering around in his head as Jack came inside, with Elisabeth following closely.



“—so you see, love, it’s sort of complicated!” Jack said to her as he saw John. Both he and Elisabeth stopped to stare at him, looking at him from head to toe and from toe to head.



“Mrs. Turner” John greeted her politely. He’d just learned a lesson, somewhere in the back of his head, and it had something to do with Jack, but he couldn’t quite put words to it.



“Mr. Sparrow” she smiled, nodding back. “I understand you’re the captain of this ship. Now that my husband has left, I’m anxious to get home. Shall we set sail?”



“I’m not really captain of this boat. You’d have to ask Captain Sparrow” John said in return, nodding towards Jack.



“Jack?” she turned to Jack impatiently, “or do I have to take command myself?” she added. There was a general disapproving murmur going through the deck. They all noticed it.



“I don’t think the Pearl would approve of that. It is after all Jack who is captain. Perhaps we should stick with that” John said meaningfully.



Elisabeth was about to reply, but heard Jack sigh before leaving the room, barking orders to the crew outside. He came back inside, and opened his mouth to say something, then there was a rap on the door, and Mr. Gibbs peered inside.



“She’s ready to sail, Capt’n. Where to?”



“That was fast”, Jack replied.



“You gave the orders, we turn on our heels and the sails are already in place, Capt’n. Bad sign to have a possessed ship, Sir!”



“Ah, well...So, where to, John?”



“Due west, then north by north-west bearing thirty-seven degrees?” John asked, consulting with Elisabeth. She nodded in agreement. John went to sit down on a lounge on port side. He was still fatigued, only wanting to sleep. Jack walked over to him, collecting his hands behind at the small of his back.



“A proper captain should always be at the helm whenever he’s telling his crew to get going somewhere.”



“Really?” John replied, looking up to meet his gaze, “then I guess you should get up there, Sir” John laid his head back down.



“I’m not captain here, John.”



“Yes you are.”



“No I’m not. You’ve refitted the Pearl in your own image John. Don’t presume to be doin’ me some kind of favour by restoring her—“



“I’ve simply made her seaworthy so you can get to Tort—“ John interrupted.



“Will could have easily towed us there—“



“—Will doesn’t have the time to be bothered with such inconveniencies, you said so yourself. For each minute that keeps him from his job as the Captain of the—“



“—then so another ship would have dropped by sooner or later and helped us along, ey? We could have stripped the remnants of the Tryall—“



“—would you rather I undid everything I’ve made here?”



“—at least get rid of the stained glasses! They’re ridiculous!” Jack shouted angrily at his son. A loud tremor, sounding like a deep moan, went through the hulls of the Pearl. “And get rid of that ridiculous bandana! You look like me! There’s only one Jack Sparrow on the face of this Earth and that’s me!”



Elisabeth held her breath, sensing she’d just tread into a viper’s nest. It was not her fight and she would have no part of it. She made for the door, and they both turned their heads to stare at her as she eyed them both before leaving, not drawing breath again until she was outside, feeling the wind on her face. Her thoughts immediately went to her boy, hoping he was all right. She found herself on a possessed boat with Jack Sparrow and his demon son, an accurate replica of Jack, only handsomer and dishier, if that was an expression she could allow herself to use. How did she manage to get herself in these situations, she’d never understand.



Back at the captain’s quarter, the discussion went on, getting hotter by the moment. John was sitting up, he felt a headache slowly snaking its way up from his neck.



“Fine, I’ll get rid of the glasses” John said, lowering his voice to normal speaking tone. He reached out with his right arm, and the wood started moaning and creaking as it swallowed the glasses on port and starboard side, and Jack saw the stained glass of himself and his future children be devoured by wood. Only the stern, large stained glasses remained, and the figures in them melted, figures representing angels and devils in combat against one another. Jack only caught a glimpse, then they were gone.



“Why, John? Why the figures?”



“The past, future and present resides within me, Dad, and the story of the Thyrion throughout the millennia manifests everywhere on everything. I can’t control it. It’s a living power within me, and it manifests whenever the time is right, when it needs to send a message. You’re new, and it’s trying to teach you about the bloodline and its history, what has been and what’s to come. I didn’t do it to upset you. I didn’t even see all of the figures until just now myself.”



“I’ve got one question for you, son. One question”, Jack pointed at John as if pinning him to where he was standing. “When the Thyrion once again approaches to impregnate me, where will you be? On whose side? For I don’t see the wealth. I don’t see the jewels and the nice wood here. I should for I’m Jack Sparrow, but that’s beside the point. The Thyrion has left the Fountain of Youth hasn’t he? He’s looking for me? I see it in every bloody dream I have. He’s coming closer...!”



“You need to avoid him until your body is ready. You’ll know it’s ready when your birthcanal opens up again and blood starts seeping from the opening between your legs. But he’s kind of blind and won’t see that you’re ready but he can smell the blood for it smells different from ordinary blood on other place on your body. So when he approaches you, you must guide him to the appropriate ‘hole’. You’ll find it won’t hurt so much next time. So, like last time, if you get pregnant, the canal stays open and grows complete to enable you to give birth. If not, it closes with the turn of the moon, and stays shut until it reopens when the time is ripe and the Thyrion seeks you out again. Now he’s seeking you out because he knows I’ve grown up and is not really in need of you anymore to nurture me. But it’s dangerous for you because he doesn’t know that you’re still closed. If he were to find you now, he’d take you over and over without you really being ready for it. It would do you more harm than good, and..., and— as long as you’re not ready, I don’t want him to harm you.”

“I see. That was as I feared. So when my body is ready, you’re just going to let him in, regardless of what *I* want to or not. You’ll just serve me on a golden plate, as it were. Tell me, John, have you made up a bed for which is ready for use as well? A place where I can just lay down and spread my legs to him whenever the opportune moment presents itself? Silken sheets perhaps? *In gold*?”



“No, I—“



“—didn’t think of that?”



“No, I mean I wouldn’t ever—“ John said, shaking his head furiously.



“—if I jumped overboard right now wanting to kill myself, you wouldn’t let me sink even two metres, would’ye, boy? You see, I’m guessing you were created, not as a twist of fate, but as a conscious act from his side, to safeguard me person so he can come to me time and time again, keeping me belly swollen constantly for him to create whatever army it is the priest said the Thyrions want. Isn’t it so, John? You’re just a prison guard in human form sent here to—“



“—I bewitched the Black Pearl” John slowly said, “to make sure you’ll have at least one sanctuary on this Earth. He cannot set foot on her without her consent, or else he’ll burn. The entire ship is baptised in Holy Water. And by that I mean Holy Water and not that crap priests of the Church call holy water, savvy? And I’ve put wards out at each corner of the four heavens, North, South, East and West. But the beacon itself, which is you, I cannot conceal. I cannot extinguish your light now, could I? For I love you. You gave me life, Dad! Aye, it’s true I was born to be your guardian. But to guard you from him! To keep him at bay. He’s the fiend, and I’m the countermeasure. You made it so. And oh yes, the heavens above had a little bit to do with it, but hey, you need all the help you can get, savvy? So you see, you have to be the Captain of the Black Pearl. As long as she is under your command, she’ll adhere to you, and help keep you out of harm’s way” John finally drew his breath. “I’ve tried to tell you that I’m so utterly sorry for what’s happened between you and me, and I hope you can find the strength to let it go”, John continued, sounding apologetically, “—you’re right, I was swept away by the discovery of such power, I admit that. I was so wrong, I shouldn’t have done it, though it meant the world to me to actually—“



“—don’t push it.” Jack was looking grimly at him, “what you did was abominable and a grave sin. A misdeed without proportion. Now over to something else: Now that you’ve dug up all that treasure, how do you intend to deliver it back to whoever owns it?”



“It’ll come to me, once I start sorting it. It always does. Images and glimpses, like pieces of a puzzle.”



“We’re going to have to go to Tortuga and purchase some weaponry for the Pearl. New canons, guns and cutlasses for the crew. And a fishing net. A big one.”



“Fishing net?”



“Demon father or not, John, I don’t intend to spend the remains of me life being hunted by that winged bastard!”



John sat up again, standing erect. “If you kill him, I’ll burn and from the ashes of John Sparrow rises a new Thyrion. And he won’t spare you so he can rape you over and over, he’ll kill you and slaughter your crew! No Father, I implore you, don’t do that. There’s another way.”



“Another way?”



“He can be imprisoned, he can be trapped in human form!”