Chapter 4: Steal or Die
The sails rustled in the wind. The old ship, The Wraith, moaned like a sleeping beast, creaking against her ropes, as if yearning to be free again. Jack Sparrow stood at the helm, hands on the worn wheel, grinning at the sea like it owed him money.
Elias stood nearby, arms folded, eyes sharp. He could taste the salt on the air, feel the boards beneath his bare feet, and—just for a second—believe this was real. He was standing on a ship. A pirate ship. His ship.
But fate, as always, had a twisted sense of humor.
From the end of the dock, came the metallic clatter of boots.
"Well, bollocks," Jack muttered without turning.
Elias looked up. Five men in crisp red coats marched toward them. Royal Guards. Muskets on shoulders, swords at their hips, the whole bloody parade. A tall one at the front was already calling out.
"By order of the Crown, step away from the vessel!"
Jack casually stepped down from the helm and strolled toward them like a man invited to tea.
"Ah, gentlemen!" Jack said brightly, arms wide like he'd been expecting them. "How absolutely delightful to see you. Have I mentioned how flattering your uniforms are? Red is so hard to wear without looking like a boiled lobster, and yet—you pull it off!"
The soldiers didn't laugh.
Elias tensed, watching from behind the mast. His fingers inched toward a broken bit of wood near his feet.
The lead guard stepped forward. "You are under arrest for attempted theft of a royal-registered vessel."
Jack blinked. "Attempted? That's hurtful. I've always thought of myself as quite successful in my thefts."
"Drop your weapons and surrender."
Jack put a hand on his heart. "I haven't got any weapons on me, good sir. Unless you count my wits, which are quite sharp, I might add—"
The guard drew his sword.
That's when Elias moved.
No hesitation.
He grabbed the broken plank beside him, lunged forward, and cracked it hard against the nearest soldier's helmet. The man dropped like a sack of flour.
Everyone froze.
Jack's eyes widened, impressed. "Well, look at you."
The guards turned, weapons raised. Elias dropped the wood and grabbed another loose piece of rigging, swinging himself toward the next soldier and kicking him off the gangplank.
Two down. Three to go.
Jack took that as his cue. "Right then."
He yanked a small dagger from his boot—hidden, of course—and tossed it high. It twirled in the air, distracting one guard just long enough for Jack to sweep his legs out from under him.
Elias ducked a swinging musket and punched the man hard in the stomach, grabbing the musket before it hit the deck.
Another guard came at him. Elias didn't think—he aimed the musket like a club and swung. The soldier dropped, groaning.
Silence.
Jack stood amid the pile of groaning guards, adjusting his hat, looking genuinely surprised. "Didn't expect that outcome, did we?"
Elias was breathing hard, eyes wild, heart hammering like a war drum.
Jack looked at him, curious. "First time fighting off the King's men?"
Elias nodded slowly.
Jack stepped closer. "How'd it feel?"
Elias looked down at the men he'd knocked out. For a second, he didn't speak. Then:
"I feel... alive."
He laughed—a short, breathless, wild thing—and for the first time in a long, long while, he wasn't faking it.
"I'm not just some street rat anymore," Elias said. "Not a beggar. Not a ghost."
He met Jack's eyes, smiling. "I'm a pirate."
Jack beamed like a proud uncle. "Now that's the spirit."
Elias leaned on the rail, still catching his breath. "Even if you lied to me about everything."
Jack tilted his head. "I prefer the term 'creative storytelling.' But yes, probably."
Elias laughed again. "I don't care."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You don't?"
"No. Because I finally understand something." Elias turned to him. "This is what pirates do. They steal ships. They fight guards. They laugh at the rules."
He picked up the compass and stared at the strange needle spinning in its own direction. "We win. Or we die. But at least we choose it."
Jack watched him for a long moment, his usual smirk softening into something more thoughtful.
"Well," he said, after a pause, "you're either going to be the death of me... or the best first mate I've ever had."
Elias gave him a half-smile. "Probably both."
Jack grinned. "Right. Let's get out of here before they send reinforcements."
They scrambled to raise the sails, laughing and shouting as they fumbled with the ropes. The ship groaned as it peeled away from the dock, catching the wind just as shouts rose from the streets behind them.
Torches flared. More guards. More muskets.
Elias grinned as they slipped into the dark, open waters.
He stood at the bow, wind in his face, the city fading behind them, and whispered to the sea:
"Come and get me."
Jack stood beside him, spinning the compass once before tucking it away.
"Well, Mister Deake," he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Welcome to piracy."
Elias looked at him and smiled.
"Where to, Captain?"
Jack grinned at the horizon, eyes gleaming.
"Anywhere the compass points."
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