(GE Copy)

Aboard the Suudelma Järvestä (Part 3)

"Seriously, you were expecting an april twist with another chapter starter weren't you? You already got one on the first part, it's a pirate story, convension is meant to be broken, damnit!"

As morning dawned, there was not but open waters, and by noon-hour had a crowing come down from the crows nest. “Land hoe... Land hoe...” The small speck came near, and it’s massive spire grew taller as they crawled the rounded horizon. Sheer rock and stone sat the captains keep, atop a sturdy cap, and it’s shores would be speckled with defences and arms alike. From the back, came a second glance; and moshing in past the onlookers, came the old ice pirate. “Well, I’ll be peckered...” Deckard called, “Never thought I’d see that old shill of a rock again... Whatever it’s called”

Catching wind, Felicity slid on next to the old geezer. “An’ old love of yours?”

“We used to deliver ice to that there rock, all the way up from the penguin islands. Fancy things those Brits could afford all the ways out here.”

“Bamora?”

“Sure, if that’s what they called the damned thing. Nearly broke me back hauling it up those six hundred and eighty two steps. Though, most of them were broken anyway, might have only been six hundred and forty three... The old general figured, that the long road up through the forest would take too long, and the ice would melt in the sun; so they had us come up the back way through the old escape tunnel... You know, if we’s thinking ourself straight, we might be apt to check on that old tunnel before we cast our lives into that twisting trail there... Not that there be any chance of us sneaking over in the main vessel but... Hey, I’m just an old pessimist...”

“And you’re certain?”

“Sure as my back still cracks because of it.”

“Hold please...” Felicity motioned, as his mate nodded in compliance and nostalgia. “Dongy boy, I thinks we has a gold fingered opportunity... Savvy?”

Lowering the rowboat up current, they waved the crew off as they covered themselves in a blue fabric and tunics from the captains private collection. Blue as the shallow seas of Bermuda, and silky as the sparkling tide. They rode the waves until nearing the rocky cliff sides, out of sight from the watchmen above. Lifting the cover, they astonished at the great height from below. “Lets see here...” Deckard muttered, “Left of the crag, or was it right of the springing rock... Ay... It’s been many a moons since I was a young lad... I used to count years, but now all I count is wives, wives who’ve taken me heart and crushed it...”

“You've never married...”

“Ay, but I could have...” Docking at the narrow, washed up lip, Deckard lead them round it’s shallow ledge, until wrapped around into a small cave. “Time sure does widdle us all... Did you remember the powder I told you of, boy? The stick I keep under the stairwell?”

“Hold up...” Felicity denied, putting Aaron’s hands down. “This is a covert operation...” Seeing the confusion in the old man. “A stealth mission... Look, do you want to alert everyone that we’re down here, or what?”

“Ay...” Deckard grieved, “But, what save our passage, when we reach the gate?”

“What gate?” Turning to the dark passage into the mountain. “In there?” Scratching his head. “Couple years by the sea water, divorce a few wives, the bars aught be rusted enough to pop open by now.” Dragging the crew in with him.

Dim shapes in the dark, protruded out near the eyes, and their light was getting thin. All became illuminated, after a few flimsy flint strikes to the weathered torch. It’s sputtered flame, flickered heavily until seasoned, into a tiny, steady light. The chipped passages levelled with gravels of long weathered stone, that ice and melt had pried off from the sturdy bedrock. At it’s end, stood vertical, was a set of bars, and the rest of the gate that they were attached to. Things came slowly into sight with the short cast of their torch, and even the skeletons were figures that took focus to notice.

“They sure had fun installing this unit...” Felicity sighed, inspecting the thick hinges that bolted deep within the stone. In the dark they could hear a voice, but couldn’t picture where it came from. It was faint, conniving, and close. First eyes were cast behind them, then along the spiralled passage, just beyond the steel gate. Somehow, not a sign of life in either, to catch onto them; then came a snicker and everyone was turned in disarray. In the corner came a twinkle, and reflected off their torch. Then came a wining, and then a full cackle. Nearing it’s source, their eyes met with pile of rattling bones.

“Can’t see me?” It called out, “What’s your excuse?” It laughed fullheartedly.

“Ghost skeletons, of course...” Felicity sneered, “Can they ever think of anything original anymore?”

“No, I’d say I’m quire expired!”

“So what ye then? Guardsmen? Keeper of the code? What have you down here? Coz I don’t see much for a squatters pickings.”

“Do you know where the key is?” Aaron inquired, catching the Skeleton before another jabbering fit.

“The key?” The skeleton laughed, “Sure... Here, have the key...” Passing the old iron to them. “Been weighting me down for years anyway...”

Surprised, the captain took it, and inspected it by the lock. Sure looked like a key, standard, two, no, three pronged, little rust but no one’s perfect. Placing the only key on the chain in the hole, Felicity gave it a twist, snapping the rusted metal in half. “A’ight...” Drawing his sword, Felicity returned swift, “What must we do to convince you to open up the door for us?”

“What are you gonna do with that? Kill me?” The skeleton laughed. “Gimme the key, you say. How do we unlock it, you say...” Roaring himself in laughter, “All you had to do was ask...”

“Open the door...” Felicity implored, to the skeleton's frequent clacker. “Open the door... Please...”

“Alright, alright, keep your skin on...” Walking up to the door, he stuck his bony little finger in the hole, and instantly it opened.

Slack jawed at the simplicity of the lock, Aaron astounded, “How’d you do that?”

Clacking his jaw something humoured, it replied, “Skeleton key...” Laughing himself into a corner, as he became part of the rock once more.

I’m really sorry about that one...

Okay, you got me, no, I’m not...

Each stair on the way up rocked and rattled with their weight, hoping the rolling waves had not eroded a gaping view port in their cave, nor compromised their path. It’s tall spire continued forever and ever, as the sea legged pirates struggled for hills to climb. Soon they could feel the walls rattle and shake, with each loud blast of the mounted cannons. Counting themselves lucky, Felicity muttered aloud, “It appears they’ve taken their warning shots already, which means we’re in the clear til we can reach that tower.”

Every endless step burned in their legs, until sight at long last came of a hallway, and the light of day. Holding the men back, Felicity listened for the breeze. It seemed a few men scrambled for supplies, hastily clacking their feet with great heft, and the accompaniment of clanking metal balls. Two shadows passed way on yonder, cast down from a walkway above. Their path seemed an access that was not in use during an invasion, and Felicity ducked out further. With a passage on his left, he took it, mapping the layout of their masoned fortress.

In a shaded tower, their coast was clear, looking out at the sea. Aaron stuttered at the immense height, and nearly crapped himself, as Felicity yanked him back by the collar, and threw him into the corner. He could hear hasty footsteps, and a man pass through the room unawares as he left out the other side. Having checked for certain this time, Felicity cast eye upon the water for sign of sails. After five minutes or so, he could see the Suudelma Järvestä making it’s umpteenth lap outside of cannon range, and lifted his mirror to signal them below. The sound of viking war horns lifted up from the waters, and Felicity drew his sword for battle.

Outside their enclosure stood two men, gawking down at the ship for answers. “They couldn’t be making war with us? They’ve been circling the tit half an hour now, they should know they ain’t prepared for it.”

“Ay, but I figure... Being as an assault, they got us a few cannons short. See, we’re stuck here like the kingdoms of old, and the more we fire the less we have to use later. That’s smart, it’s a battle of attrition at this point and they’ve got all the fuel in the world pushing them dizzy like... Karmal, are you listening?” Turning to be muffled and thrown to the sea with his partner.

Cannons fired more steadily, and the party could tell that the ship was nearing the port. Soon it would be hidden in the trees just outside cannon range, in the blind spot they could muster from their scouting. Not long now, it would be filled with tasty little distractions as Felicity combed the backs of the artillery.

Stood silently behind a man, Aaron lifted his blackjack to quiet another set of eyes, but held hesitantly. It was another man, just some guy sitting on his job, unawares. It was a perfect target and setup, yet as he stood over top, fighting his breath to focus the weight into his arms. Aaron could not bring himself to end the man. From behind, a pair of bolas ripped past, wrapping the soldiers neck and casting him over the railing into the sea. “When you gets my age, ya gots to thinks my age.” Deckard imparted, spitting at the fallen man, as he tossed a pair to Aaron for safe keeping.

Another man walked, and another man fell. From those on the pavement to those hauled over, Felicity’s party slowly made their way down the hills and the cliffside passes to meet the crew as she docked.

Ropes were flung round trees and rocks, to board the cliffside, with men rising to the lead of their undead war chief. Stationed soldiers sat startled, some shivering, some spineless, some soaking and shitless, as his spectral form took charge through the forest, and in through the walls. They fired frantically, unable to wound the ethereal poltergeist, that lead the way for the pirates in tow. Inside the mounted tower hovered he, inspecting the defences, and causing crossfire between the men. He laughed, as he cried out to the warfield. “You will all remember this as the day you finally met the pirate legend, Long Dong Silvers... Now prepare to join me, you blusterous misers!”

A man stood to face the legend, frozen to the ground, he stuttered. Looking the ghastly terror in the coals of his cold dead eyes, he was stunned in place for an easy bullet to take his head by the opposition; but behind him stood a man of many scars, who’s eyes were not so sundered.

“You’re... A ghost... Y-you really him, aren’t you? Norbert Mortimer Dudley, Thee Long Dong Silvers...”

‘Nyar, me mother never named me that!”

“Scourge of the western sea, lecherous drunk of the virgin shores, the most illiterate man to ever turn the wheel of a water vessel...”

“Well...” Standing indifferent, Norbert Silvers admired, “I suppose that’s quite the compliment, if you’d be so kind as to tell me what illiterate meant...”

“The man who single handedly drove his own crew to madness, and convert during a single night at the Dagonian Chapel Cathedral, over how cruel he was! It was said they paid galley's cargo upon the mercy seat, over the shit they were forced to do.”

“Well, I hads a change of heart meself.”

“Oh, but it didn’t end there. The blunder at Roll’over Bay, and again off the coast of the Pacifist Islands.” Still bestowing accolade after accolade to the ghost, until the pirates came up behind him, and cut him to the ground.

Shaking his head, the ghost complained. “Always with the talking, blah, blah... Some people just don’t know when to shut up...” Stopping as an ethereal form began to rise from the dead body.

“You knew they were going to do it,” The fresh ghost rose, “...and it haunted them twenty nights until...”

“Oh, fleck off!” Long Dong Silvers cursed, swishing his sword through the figure until it evaporated.

Men rushed the village, clearing out the gutters. A scrawny pirate jumped out to the surprise of many staked out in the shack; and at the flash of his pistol came a grand explosion, igniting the room ablaze, and sending five men through the windows. The crew stood shocked, and exclaimed, “Nice shot!...” As the skinny gunman shrugged, and looked down the barrel of his own gun in question.

Gunpowder smoked over the island, as tower and barracks were tumbled. The men cheered in great moral, for their forerunning legend from beyond, as he lead them onto shell shocked victory. The sound of clacking and gunfire lifted up from the bottom to Felicity’s party as they came down. Fixing his pistol a fine shot, he threw a tiny keg below the two men operating the cannon, and blew it out from under them; sending it hurling down the hillside to the watch tower below. The remaining troops between the two parties turned around to face upward, and they were cornered, distracted with the upper supports.

Four men stood on the ship looking out at the waging battle. “Sure... Sure feels nice to be valued on this crew, doesn’t it...” Said the man upon the helm.

“Yeah...” Returned the navigator, “I’m sure glad none of them can sail a ship without us... Think the captain will make it, or should we start the drinking without him?”

“Oh, did you see that one?” A third called out, “Threw an entire cannon down, Captain must not be giving them any slack today...”

Raising up to the last blockade, stood the final resistance between them and Felicity. Long Dong Silvers threw himself through the walls, searching for the handle which to direct the men’s fire but was stopped, as a strong dressed man, stood in plate and armour. Silver’s ghostly eyes lifted upon the man, and stared deeply into his hands. “That... That’s my sword!” Long Dong astounded, “Give it back!”

“Your sword?” The man laughed, walking to meet the old legend, then returned it though his ghostly chest. “Why thank ya kindly.” As the material metal fell through his ethereal body. Reaching for his old iron, Long Dong Silvers sought to complete himself, until remembering he was dead. “Oh!... Peckerwood...” He dismissed, showing himself through the wooden planks. “Shoot here!” And then pointed with both hands to the target. Boom! And the latch was broken, then the other and the army marched on, overwhelming the split attention of the last blockade.

The vice leader of the resistance lifted up the legendary sword, and lead himself onto a final desperate stand, slicing down pirate after pirate until he fell to their numbers.

Hovering over the fallen war chief, Silvers called out to the men in passing. “Be so kind as to pick that up for me, would ya?” And they took the fine blade with them.

The men cheered, following their captain up the hill to the final wall between them and the hallowed treasure. Felicity stood upon a locked gate, peering in through the bars, and sighed. “I really should have nabbed that Skeleton's finger before he left... Silvers... You mind heading down to make sure this is the right door?” Waving the spook through the bars, “Someone fetch me a keg in case it is... And see if they have any booze while you’re at it. After this, the isle is ours for the biggest cookout since the Great Fire of London.”

As eager as one man left, his feet stood still, looking upon a brave soul enough to stand alone. He dawned his hat firmly, and called out, one captain to another “Tricky you, when I should hear your men upon my shores, that I should find my tower littered in desperate abandon. Say, isn't bringing a woman onboard supposed to be bad luck?”

Turning with his blade out, Felicity returned likewise, fixing his cap. “Good thing I'm not a woman...”

“I always did see a little peculiarity about you, in the short moments passing on port. What business do I owe this pleasure?”

“Didn’t dream about me, did you, ol’ Mioff? Say, what is your first name, Jack?”

“I’ll have you know, that my Father was a greater pirate than you’ll ever be... But enough exposition, fancy yourself a little duel? Captain-a-captain, for the show to our men?” Swinging up with great furious animosity.

“A duel?” Felicity parried, “Sure, but you gave up your captains hat, when you laid locks to your pissy little land!” Throwing the pretentious Tricorne from Mioff’s head as he spat, “And I won’t be swindled out of no treasure, by no damned land loving, cobble kissing, grass groping, earth edifying, cock in the mud, tree tickling, soil sanctifying, Gaia gargling...”

“Oh please, is this the new generation? I swear you people are the worst!” Snapping his fingers, to the arrival of six fitted men, of black cloth and coverings upon their face, all dropping from the ceiling joists.

Jerking his head back, Felicity cursed, “Ninjas?... I hate ninjas...”

“You clearly are not akin to subtleties, are you... I told you I still had men... But will you?” Swishing his sword in a dancing manner, like the legs of a shifty pub brawler. It came in, blocked, curled and lunged; the eloquent Spanish swordplay of the enemy was smooth and calculated chaos.

Felicity came in quick to dismiss the ruse, taking a glancing cut to his tunic but backed Mioff away, as the slithering captain broke all convention. He could see it working, as the methodical attention to Mioff’s defences, became second guessed, and sloppy. Felicity held the veiled illusion of striking, widdling down the confidence of his opponent in a game of wits.

“So, tricky yourself, Son of Jack Mioff...” Felicity mocked, prolonging the dissuasion of his enemy’s disciplined focus, “Savvy you figures that if you gave the maps out for every scervy dog to follow, that once every captain worth a second glance was done bludgeoning each other to death... That one by one, they’d write the treasure off as a myth; leaving neither trail nor threatening soul to follow you for fame nor glory? Sounds the perfect crime...”

“You lapsed out the part where any star stricken sailor would give his remaining fleshy leg for such a tomb of secrets. So, my insightful little Archimedes, if so perfect, then where’d I slip up?”

“For one, I didn’t pay a single shilling for the crusty old book of smut, and secondly you left the damned ghost there without an exorcism, to fink on you.” Felicity stabbed, studying the psychological effect on Mioff’s ruses, to be diminished down to Felicity’s level of classical dirty swordplay, and continued in confidence.

Men threw their swords up high, taking for whatever openings they could, but the ninjas were swift combatants. Very little attacks could make it through, and the crew were pinned to the wall. Withdrawing his borrowed Bolas, Aaron chucked it for the ninja’s neck, only to watch it cut mid air and fly past him; hitting two unsuspecting backup’s between the eyes. As the numbers straightened out to six on four, the crew spread out, cornering the ninja’s to be flanked. They leapt up to the ceiling, and the pirates slit the two earth bound assailants. The ninjas threw knives down from above, avenging their fallen; but the old timbers were weak and another fell to the dogpile of the remaining men.

Aaron cast rocks to the top rafters, catching the attention of one ninja long enough to make a clear shot for Deckard, who’s bolas could lock it’s legs. The boys made quick work of whatever remained when the warrior fell on it’s side, and the two ninja’s left standing, backed off into the smoke; accidentally cut down on Felicity’s back swing, while aiming for a different pest. The last Ninja stood in the corner, mistaking his exit, and was forced to making a final honourable stand. Clearly he didn’t see what happened to the last guy who did that down the hill. But before that could settle, came a joyous sound, echoing from the gate.

Sliding his way back into the room, Long Dong Silvers rejoiced, “Boys, I’ve founds me treasu...” Stutter and sputtering as his eyes fell onto Mioff, “You dirty son of a mermaid whore!” Roaring furiously, as the blue sky dimmed dark, and all around them was clouded in haze. Taking Felicity’s place, the ghost walked up, “I will have my revenge!” Dodging Mioff’s first strike, he took the second; but before Mioff could understand the benign quality of the apperation, his instincts dodged his head from the harmless blade, and smashed into the sharp edge of a stone outcropping. “See!” Long Dong Silvers cackled, “You younger pirates just don’t know how to fight these days...” As Mioff fell dazed onto his rear, and Felicity stood overtop to deliver vengeance for both their sakes.

“You’d...” Mioff muttered, regaining his sense, “You’d think I’d remember from our last encounter, how the fear meant nothing, and you were no more than an image to remind us what came next...”

“Ay...” The ghastly legend revelled, “...We all die eventually, come home to us... So my ghostly hands can finally reach to grip round your scrawny little neck!”

“I’ll leave you to it...” Felicity informed, cutting ties with the enemy captain. “Tell Jack I says hi, and give him my condolences for his name.” Leaving the two ghosts to settle things amidst themselves. The men followed their captain, throwing the last dead ninja aside, as one stood behind to double check the rest.

Before them stood a heaping hoard, lit by the tiny pinholes of much smaller skylights. It danced in the shattered sunlight, flickering as they swayed their heads to see it. Gold abound; chalices of more gemstones than silver could hold embedded within it. Statues of idols and objects of worship, of candlesticks, of incense burners, and hookas, in all of royal fashion and inlays. Bars laid atop bars, ingots of gold shined like kings diamonds... And enough emeralds to make an island, or an Irish man blush. “We’re gonna need a bigger ship...”

“Nonsense...” Felicity called out, “Gather as much fabric as you can find, layer it in threes, I’m not chasing gold figures down the side of no hill.”

By sundown, there came a pile upon the shores, where the Suudelma Järvestä had waid anchor just beside the coast, lest any ships be spotted off the horizon. They laid the gold within a small row boat, carrying it off to the ready stationed ship, with Aaron and the old man taking shift. “You know...” Deckard announced, smiling at the maiden vessel. “It’s been a long journey me and her... I nearly gave up. Oh, it’s been a lot of killing, and a lot of stealing, and cheating, and forgery, and libation, not to mention blowing the meanwhile on every woman to catch me eye... Ah... But we’re finally here, after a lifetimes worth of bastardry, and warfare, and jail breaking –Almost didn’t come back from that one... Not to mention tears and agony, the nightmares, and, libations. Yes it has been a lot of killing and stealing and cheating and fudgery, and... Where was I... Boy, are you listening to my rambles or ain’chas?”

Aaron lost himself in thought, his body rowing in awkward pace, to the reprimands of his boating partner. No matter the focus he tried to return, his arms felt weak, and light, and burdened. How many souls had caked themselves upon the sides of silver and gold, how many lives died upon the treasure’s hold? His arms felt hot but his soul felt cold, for where he sat, his mind unfold. An irking clicked in his mind, rowing in spite of it, until Aaron could no longer hold the spinning in his head and it became hard to breath.

“What’s the matter boy?” Deckard questioned,

“Nothing...” But it wouldn’t pass him by, and Aaron corrected himself. “Actually, it’s... Just, that I think I see the captain waving us wildly, like were about to run into something.”

“Really?” Surprised, Deckard turned around, squinting his old sailor eyes. “I don’t see him, but then again, I don’t really see much of anything.”

“Just off the rock there, left of the shore, he’s jumping up and down now...” Watching old Deckard lift himself up in all futility to see any better, Aaron gave the old man a shove into the sea, and quickly began to row himself away. A few strokes in, Aaron began to become rather concerned with himself, setting the old man to the harsh waters. Sure he wanted to stage his escape, but what of the old man? Could he still swim? Aaron peeked over the bow, and found Deckard in a ripe angry spit, swimming like a shark. “Oh shit...” Aaron began to panic, and row faster.

Called to the commotion, there came sight from the Suudelma Järvestä, as their confused eyes caught sight of the two at sea. What was most confusing was when Aaron row away past the them, with old Deckard hanging on for dear vengeance, as he screamed, “I won’t be taken back to the ice fields, you impudent little brat!”

One of the men on board, slackened of his jaw, muttered aloud, “That has to be the stupidest pirate, I’ve ever seen...”

“Come now, I’ve seen stupider...” Jumbalaya laughed walking the stairs up to see what was the commotion. “Oh...” He stood, “That really is stupid...”

Having been bested by Deckard the old deck-hand, and his hands that could deck any man, he retook the boat and Aaron with it, only a few hundred meters off shore. There came a furious roar as Felicity came back on board and he expounded on his dismay. “...And how do you plan on taking that treasure with your own two hands, yeah? Down the great blue, over bump and tidal wave? Just casually making it along on a leaky watercraft for a hundred miles or next land?” Furiously throwing his hands up as he walked off, to the discontent of many pirates. “Do you know how many treasures lay lost to the locker, my boy?”

“So that’s all, then?” One of the men asked, Watching Felicity part for the deck, on his momentous day.

In great dismay, Long Dong Silvers strode next to Felicity, “You know, a piece of brotherly advice, I couldn’t accept a captain who allows that to slide... ‘Specially with me hard workings...”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not your captain, now isn’t it?...” Looking back at the ghost’s hinting towards the rest of the crew, who’s anger and trust began to waver. “Aaron...” Felicity grit, coming back to the spite of his crew. “I liked to believe in many ways I could be a Father to you... But you’ve betrayed me on that... Intentional or not...” Taking a moment before returning. “Been on me for ages now, guess you gots your wish after all: I gives you two options... The Briggs, to be the mockery of our crew, til they deem you reconditioned, or satisfied... Or the gallows to be hung by the mast as a warning, until picked dry and fallen of your own weight to the hard bow below. Do you still deny me with such rebellion that you’d give your own life away?”

“No,” Aaron huffed, finally come terms with his own choices, “I choose to duel you for your throne. A fair declaration, no longer betrayal, and is reconciled with the crew.”

“It takes more than owning the seat to reason with these dogs of the sea... Besides, you know I would never oblige you...”

“You taught me to fight, do you suppose me finally overshadowing my master? Then fight me, where I stand, or lose the honour to your crew, as a result for any favours you shall do me. You’ve been soft on me since I day I set complacent foot upon this prison of sin.”

“And I ‘spose you’ve got none yourself to speak of, is it? No hand in debauchery, no guile between your teeth, or blood beneath your fingernails?”

Withdrawing his sword, Aaron stood before the captain.

Continuing, Felicity withdrew his own, knowing the inevitable course which was swung between them. “And you’d give all this away, just to see yourself a sullied bumpkin on some street corner? The greatest treasure alive? You could have bought your way out, but you see yourself so righteous that you must deny me my due for saving you?” Staving off the boy’s attacks

“Why must a free man be bondage to fear?” Aaron reasoned, pushing Felicity back until he would finally honour the duel to return strikes.

“Coz there is always a debt to be paid...” Felicity assured, combing inside the blade to flick it under the guard; having disarmed the boy, Felicity cast Aaron to the ground. “You knew you could never defeat me; it was all just to grant yourself off this vessel as an honest man, when I refused to let you leave me... Fine! Lock him in the Briggs, but I gave you everything! I forgave you, everything! I gave for you to inherit, everything under the sun, and upon the sea! Son of the famed pirate, the world over, if you would only accept my love... Yet you spit on it...” And so they cast Aaron into the crypt of a dank dark cell beneath the hull.

Below the stamper of drunken feet, Aaron could hear cheers erupting throughout the night, all the way down into the hollow of his cold hard depths. Mould and mildew filled the haul with stank, and it’s creatures best left unseen, danced freely in front of him. Aaron sat in the moist floor boards, hearing the drizzle of spilled wine trickle in through the cracks. For six days he could hear them drink heartier and heartier, until the jewels lost their glory, and they drank themselves sick just for the sake of it. His iron bars meant no more than the floor his legs could cover, and after the hunger went away, he was content in most things.

Most that came to see him, either sternly informed him of his idiocracy, or to simply mock him. Perhaps Felicity’s last attempt to play out Aaron’s sentence in the Briggs, for rehabilitation. Maybe it would be better to live a life of sin, if it could be blamed elsewhere, and lived ignorant of the choice he could still make. But at what cost in the end?

There came a day, where on cause of footsteps did Aaron looked up. The exquisite dress of their captain could be seen well before his face, sparkling like gold. Hard to imagine what sea port he could have picked it up by, but vanity, was definitely Felicity’s favourite feature. He came onto the bars with not a word, and a grievous expression that bordered on sickly.

Raising his voice, Aaron called out, mocking. “Why do you visit the condemned, if swaying them, may not change the course of what is set in motion? Do not think a moment’s haunting, as you pour upon your treasure and aged wine, that you can save me from the dogs... But what of you? You could be free... How long until one mans greed will take you, like the men you’ve taken before; how long until you realize you’ve only lived free, in words alone, while running from the truth in gay abandon?...”

“We’re at the map’s edge... Pick yourself up...” Holding in a shred of anger. “Crew thought it best I delivered you myself, says... I’ve been ‘growing weak’, lest they think me too fragile to hand out my own sentences... Beyond here be dragons, so suit yourself at the edge of darkness.”

“You sure have a way of saying a whole lot of nothing.”

“And it shall be nothing.” Dragging Aaron out from the Briggs, his eyes burned in the daylight, where many stern faces stood to see him off. Bridges, pensively contemplating the unfortunate reality, looked as though all his confidence be built up, had finally wore off when it came due. Jambalaya, thinking to himself what an idiot, could almost see his lips mutter it involuntarily... And old Deckard, seemed he still hadn’t quite get over their little interaction, senile old coot.

As the men held his shoulders for the ritual, Aaron gave his last vow and testimony, “Can you at least make me do a flip when you toss me?”

Standing in front of the proceedings, Felicity withdrew his sword and read out the union rites, his old mockery of the civil state. “In accordance with, yadi yada... Something, something, rights to be reunited with the see; good day...” Turning his back, he uttered before the men could lift him, “Always know that I loved you, when no one else would...”

“As did I...” Aaron confessed. “I never wanted your treasure, as I never wanted your life! I never wanted to be haunted by my actions, my conciseness, my nightmares! I wanted you to see peace, without stealing from others, isn’t that the freedom you wanted? Free from running your whole lives on your past!”

“And at who’s tab?” Felicity returned, “These vessels, they do not farm acres, nor make water for to drink, so fancy yourself a life of pariah and sickness? How else do you wager a man find freedom? To roam the waters on borrow wind, if a man should find the end of his freedom at starvation and sobriety... You cannot twist the reality of the world, Aaron, a free man must take what others squander, for to him... It is his blood, his life, his soul... If you take not, all will be taken from you, so drink up free man; A private island with all the sea water and grass clippings a sheep could ask for. Yo ho...” And they threw him over. “Let it be a lesson to the rest of ya’s, that not even my love can save any soul who crosses me, now back to your stations, AND GOOD RIDDANCE!” Hiding the tears from the crew as he left for his quarters. Even Deckard began to remorse over the lost child, who refused to reconcile with the filthy crew.

Good on their treacherous pirate words, they turned the ship and made due haste, not to give room that he may climb back aboard before the wind took them away. The sand was soft, and his weary stiff legs twisted and buckled trying to stand upon it. He fell his side to the solid soil, watching the stable earth spin, and finally he could breath with ease.

As the ship fell off from the horizon, Aaron could feel a weight of their eyes lifting from his shoulders. It was the setting of the sun, and the breeze that finally felt clean. Aaron sat there, to see it fall forever from his eye, and he smiled without end. For though now he had nothing, Aaron knew, that on this virgin shore, he was finally set free.