Chapter 6: The Compass Turns
The Wraith floated lazily under the morning sun, its torn sails patched, the hull still bearing scars from old battles and hasty repairs. The salty breeze filled the air with the scent of the sea—freedom and danger, all at once.
Jack Sparrow stood at the helm, holding the strange black compass in one hand and squinting at it like it was trying to tell him a joke he didn't quite get.
Elias leaned beside him, chewing on a stolen apple and watching the compass needle spin in erratic circles.
"It's broken," Elias muttered.
Jack looked deeply offended. "It's not broken. It's just... artistically unpredictable."
Reyna snorted from behind them, polishing a curved blade. "We're trusting our lives to a trinket that can't make up its mind."
"Correction," Jack said, waving a finger. "We're trusting our lives to me. And aren't you the one who said all that stuff about it and more The compass is just a helpful... accessory."
Elias grinned. "Like your hat?"
Jack clutched his hat protectively. "Don't insult the hat."
The compass suddenly stopped spinning.
The needle locked onto a direction—east, toward the open sea.
Jack's eyes lit up.
"Well, well... looks like it's finally decided."
Reyna stood. "What lies that way?"
Jack tilted his head. "Depends. Could be a cursed isle. Could be the heart of an old sea god. Could be a beach full of angry cannibals who don't like visitors."
Elias bit into his apple again. "So, Tuesday."
"Exactly," Jack said, smiling wide. "Set the sails, crew! We chase what we desire!"
---
Hours passed. The sea deepened to a darker blue. The wind tugged at their clothes and hair, and clouds began to gather on the horizon like ghosts whispering in another language.
Reyna came up from below deck, holding a rolled-up map.
"This was hidden in a drawer next to a broken sextant. It's old, but it shows something strange—an isle shaped like a spiral. Doesn't match any charted land."
Jack blinked at it, then grinned. "An island that's not supposed to exist? Definitely the sort of place we'd end up."
Elias took the map and studied it. "Looks like the island is surrounded by reef and wrecks."
Jack clapped him on the back. "Perfect! That means other people died trying to get there. Which means—treasure."
Reyna muttered, "Or sea monsters."
Elias smirked. "Hopefully both."
Jack spun the wheel with flair. "Keep an eye out, mates! If the compass points, we follow."
---
By nightfall, the sky had turned from blue to obsidian, and stars shimmered above like silver powder.
Then Elias saw it first.
"There," he said, pointing. "On the horizon."
A shape rose from the sea—dark, jagged, and twisted. A spiral island, surrounded by scattered bones of broken ships half-sunken into the reef.
Reyna narrowed her eyes. "That's not natural."
Jack's smile widened. "Neither are we."
The ship carefully approached the outer rim. Wreckage floated like coffins, and the water had gone eerily calm. Too calm.
As they dropped anchor, Elias looked over the side and saw something beneath the surface—carvings. Massive symbols etched into the ocean floor.
"Jack," Elias said quietly, "there's something under the water."
Jack peeked over and blinked. "Well, that's unsettling."
Suddenly, a loud clunk echoed. The anchor hit something solid—and the ship jerked.
The sea bubbled.
Reyna drew her sword. "That's not good."
A low groan echoed from below, like something ancient shifting in its sleep.
Jack clapped his hands. "Alright! I vote we go ashore."
Elias blinked. "Wait—now?"
"Yes!" Jack replied cheerfully. "This is the part where people usually say 'Captain, this seems like a bad idea,' and then I do it anyway."
Reyna rolled her eyes. "Captain, this seems like a bad idea."
"Wonderful," Jack grinned. "Lower the boat."
---
Minutes later, the trio stood on the shore of the spiral island, their boots sinking slightly in wet black sand. The jungle ahead was thick and twisted, vines like veins across the trees, and an eerie mist hovered just above the ground.
Elias looked around. "Feels like we're being watched."
Jack patted him on the shoulder. "Good. Means we're somewhere interesting."
They trekked into the forest, stepping over bones and rusted weapons long abandoned. At the center of the island, they found it—a giant stone altar, cracked down the middle, and in its center... a chest.
Reyna walked forward slowly. "That feels too easy."
Jack tilted his head. "You're right. Someone open it."
Elias volunteered with a dramatic bow. "If I die, tell the sea she was beautiful."
He reached out and opened the chest.
Inside... was sand.
Just sand.
Elias blinked. "This is—what?"
Jack reached in, then slowly smiled. He pulled out a single gold coin, ancient and marked with an unknown crest.
"Ladies and gents," he whispered, "we just found something cursed."
Reyna's face darkened. "How do you know?"
Jack dropped the coin—and it burned a hole straight through the wood plank it landed on.
Elias stared. "Well, shit."
Behind them, the forest groaned. The ground trembled.
Jack twirled on his heel. "Time to run!"
They sprinted as the trees behind them bent and snapped, as something massive began to awaken in the jungle's heart.
Elias laughed as they reached the boat. "This is what I wanted!"
Reyna shoved the boat into the waves. "You're mad!"
Elias grinned. "Aren't we all?"
Jack jumped in, compass in hand, coin in pocket. "Next time, we take a vacation. Somewhere nice. Like a volcano."
The Wraith sailed away just as the jungle behind them erupted with a roar.
Another close escape. Another story for the sea.
And still, the compass spun, restless, never finished.
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