Legends of the Treasure Child : Demon Spawn

The very air seemed packed with energy. Every leaf, every branch nearly shot sparks. Buds bloomed inexplicably and the birds and the animals of the forest were silent in anticipation. They listened eagerly to the old words of a forgotten language which were eloquently sung by ethereal voices. The voices of angels and demons. They beckoned all living, all dead to partake in this ancient mystery that was rebirth.

The small clearing in the forest provided excellent shelter for the party. Finding it had been easy. They'd followed the voices, or John's guidance. And when they were closing in, they simply followed the strong white light emanating from the owners of the voices. It was as if sirens were singing to them. The song carried them across emotional valleys and peaks, crumbling them with painful, forgotten memories of their past, reminding them of family, of love, of lovers, children, happy times and times worth dying for. And the closer they came, the stronger was the sensation of entering an atmosphere of bliss, peace and all-encompassing love.

John took Elisabeth's trembling hand in his, and gave her a re-assuring smile. It was going to be all right. He was afraid to admit to her that he was just following his instincts on this task, and wasn't really sure of the outcome. In his six thousand year life, he'd never before made such a sacrifice for anyone.But he couldn't tell her that. She counted on him. William counted on him, though John sensed that William by now only had a dim understanding of what was in progress. He was, strangely enough, at peace with his current location. John wasn't. He was tired from carrying the extra weight, his back ached like crazy and every step was killing his thighs with the extra weight, and the skin of his belly felt as if it would crack and split at any moment. Upon entering the clearing, he immediately knelt by the fireplace, glad to finally have reached their destination. Elisabeth knelt with him. She didn't know what else to do in the presence of the winged apparitions standing before them. Having regained his breath, John locked gazes with them, thus telling them that he was ready. He watched the brilliant light dim, revealing the twin brothers which Jack had given birth to after John. Nathaniel stepped forward, and said: "Thus great is your love for this soul, that you have chosen to allow it back into the world of the living. Name it."

"I name it William Turner" John said loud and solemnly.

"Then let William Turner enter the circle of healing" Nathaniel replied, eying Elisabeth briefly. He noticed she had a hard time checking her tears. She watched as John moved to sit opposite her. The air about them grew even more heavy, as energy flowed, mixing good with evil, white with black. The levels of Light and Hell met through a phosphorous cascade of lights. Electricity flared and sparkled as both sides worked together, united by love, wishing the soul that was Will Turner back into the middle of both planes - to the world of the living. The twins began to chant: 'Come into these arms - and lay your body down - the rhythm of this trembling heart - beats like a drum - beats for you - bleeds for you - but knows not how it sounds - for it is the drum of drums and it is the song of songs.'

Numbed by the passionate words rolling out from the twins' delicate mouths as if it was God himself who sang, Elisabeth watched wide-eyed as John produced a small, ornate golden dagger. It gleamed in the moving light from the fire, and the carvings which filled the dagger from tip to handle seemed to glow and writhe into new shapes. With his other hand, he pulled his shirt out from the waistband, revealing the big, round belly signifying that of any full term pregnancy. She watched again, hardly believing what she was seeing. The contours of five grown fingertips surfaced, imprinting themselves on the inside of John's belly, as if there was a hand looking, touching and feeling for a way out. She looked up, looking for confirmation of this fantastic display, in John's eyes. He was sweating, focused, grave in his expression and otherwise unreadable. The dagger in his hand which he was clutching determinedly, did however speak for him. There was no doubt whatsoever of his intention. The twins sang on: 'Once I had the rarest rose - which ever deigned to bloom - cruel winter chilled the bud - it stole my flower too soon.'

The words immediately took Elisabeth back ten years earlier, to the memory of how she'd witnessed Will die on the Flying Dutchman, their marriage, and the unfairness of it all after he'd said his good-byes to her on the beach to fulfill his duties as the new captain of the ship of the damned. At first, bitterness had been hard to reconcile with. But when she realized she was with child, she could do nothing but cry out her sorrows, finding hope in the knowledge that the unborn within her was Will's legacy. A living, breathing piece of William Turner. She focused on the song again, eying John, wondering when it would happen. He seemed to be waiting for something. The air itself was by now so thick one cut slice it with a knife - the energies kept accumulating, and Elisabeth felt certain the very world around her would soon shatter if it became any tenser.

'Loneliness - hopelessness - to search the ends of time - for there is in all the world - no greater love than mine.'
They sang as if they knew of her pain, of every emotion she had endured and the feelings she held for Will which had, during her childhood, matured into something more real than just a fancy. Lost in thought, she did not hear the next lines. She saw not the tears falling from Mr. Gibbs, Pintel and Ragetti and the others escorting them.

'Let me be the only one - and keep you from the cold - as the floor of heaven is laid - with stars of brightest gold!'
She watched him move the dagger to just below his belly. The tip of the blade barely touching the skin. She shut her eyes. The air was inexplicably thick, making her feel as if she was breathing mud. Opening her eyes again, she saw one arm covered in blood and gore reveal itself from John's bowels. It stretched, finding the leafy ground next to John's feet - grabbing hold there. Another hand came into view, stretching, becoming an arm - the fingers shaking, looking for something solid to hold on to. Two sinewy arms of a fully grown male was now protruding from the gap in John's belly, and she saw John make a pained grimace. In the corner of her eye she saw several on-lookers faint, and she felt herself struggle to take in the surreal scene unfolding before her. She recognized the calloused hands - a blacksmith's hands - which she had learned to love, and she felt her heart leap. Waiting in breathless anticipation she watched the hands grab hold of the ground, pulling to get out whatever lingered inside. She saw the muscles of the arms strain, and soon, a man's head covered in bloody, brownish curls appeared, and even at the odd angle she recognized his face!

'They shine for you - they burn for all to see' the twins sang on. Their magic sparkled, and the air was permeated with love, forming a sphere around those who'd entered the clearing. William blinked, his face was covered in a bloody substance, and he fought to drag himself outwards, revealing a torso, hips and finally legs - looking just as he'd always done. He was clearly confused, but recognition washed across his face as he gazed upon Elisabeth sitting there only an arm's length away. Her face was wet with tears, and she could not help a smile which he clearly recognized. Seeing her face gave him renewed strength, and she held out her arms as he dragged himself over to her.

'Come into these arms - and set this spirit free' the twins chanted on. John was giving in, and let himself fall backwards. But Jack was there waiting to catch his fall, allowing his firstborn to rest in his arms. John was in no more pain. He rested, breathing heavily but seemed at peace with the result. The gap in his belly began to sting, closing itself and healing back to its original state.

The energy died down. The air grew colder. And Jack and Elisabeth watched each other and their loved ones in silence as the woods turned dark and filled with nocturnal sounds. The twins remained, and their divine glow was at a minimum. A breeze without origin was playing gently with the brown curls of their long hair, and their silver armor and flowing garments seemed ethereally transparent, almost ghostlike. They were well on their way to become God's creatures, yet here and now they wielded the powers granted to them for the love of their family. Of their love to Jack and John.

Being the practical that he was, Mr. Gibbs was the first to recover his senses. He barked for the men to go looking for more firewood, and the down to earth order made them wake up as from some strange dream, immediately dispatching in every direction to look for dry logs, stumbling over branches and generally being disoriented. He went over to the fire and stirred it absentmindedly while he muttered to the air in general: "Slap me thrice and hand me to me mama! and I who thought I'd seen it all by now." He gazed at the gory Will, who had fallen asleep in Elisabeth's arms. On Jack's request,he made sure the lad was wrapped in a blanket, before he unpacked clothes which Jack had brought from the Black Pearl. He then took two deep swigs from his little bottle of rum.

"How's John?" Mr. Gibbs asked quietly.

"He'll be fine" Jack replied, stroking the unruly brown curls of John's hair. "He'll be all right." Jack looked over to Elisabeth. She had gone silent, and remained with one hand on top of Will's chest while his back partially rested on her lap. His head lay on her stomach, and she felt the steady thud of his heart against her palm. He was whole again, exonerated from his destiny as captain of the Flying Dutchman. It could scarcely get any more unreal than this. Will was home!