Chapter 8: The Pirate Market
The golden morning sun stretched across the horizon as the Phantom ship slid into a hidden bay—half-covered in mist, guarded by jagged rocks jutting from the sea like broken teeth.
Behind those rocks, nestled in a crescent-shaped cove surrounded by towering cliffs, sprawled a chaotic port: The Hollow Market—a haven for thieves, mercenaries, smugglers, and pirates from every sea.
A place that appeared on no map.
Naturally, Jack Sparrow had been there dozens of times.
The ship sails fluttered gently as they approached the dock. The port pulsed with life—wooden bridges linking crooked towers, ships stacked like floating puzzles, and the air buzzing with the shouts of merchants hawking everything from stolen rum to enchanted frogs.
Elias leaned over the rail, mouth slightly open. "This place... is insane."
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Jack said, arms stretched wide like he was presenting a kingdom. "The only place in the Caribbean where you can buy a cursed sword, fake your death, and eat grilled octopus from the same vendor."
Raina wrinkled her nose. "It smells awful."
Jack sniffed. "Ah, yes. Freedom always smells like sweat, seaweed, and cheap whiskey."
Elias laughed. "Smells like home."
They disembarked, immediately swallowed by the chaos.
A monkey in a tiny coat ran past holding a string of pearls.
A drunken man tripped into a mermaid tank and got slapped.
A group of pirates haggled over a map clearly drawn with children's crayons.
Elias soaked in every detail with sharp, hungry eyes. "So what exactly are we looking for?"
Jack flicked open his compass with a flourish. "Whatever this little beauty points to."
Raina frowned. "And where is it pointing?"
Jack looked down.
The needle spun… then slowly tilted toward the heart of the market, where a massive black tent loomed like a beast's belly, pulsing with candlelight and laughter.
"There," Jack said, grinning. "Trouble."
Elias cracked his knuckles. "Then let's go in."
Jack looked at him proudly. "That's the spirit."
The tent was filled with smoke and shadow. Inside, dozens of pirates gathered around gambling tables, fighting pits, and strange glowing artifacts behind dusty glass.
A wiry man with a green beard tried to sell Elias a dagger that "whispers in your sleep." Elias told him he already had enough voices in his head.
Raina stayed close, hand on her blade, eyes scanning every face.
Then Jack stopped at a trader's table.
A crimson cloth draped the table, and on it sat a dusty bottle, a black feather, and a book with no title.
Jack stepped forward. "That book," he said.
The trader was a hunched old woman with a golden tooth and half her face tattooed in ancient symbols. "That's not for sale, Sparrow."
Elias raised an eyebrow. "How does everyone know you?"
Jack grinned. "Reputation—cheaper than fame."
The woman stared. "You've got a compass that don't point north. I've got a book with no words. Let's trade."
Jack tilted his head. "Tempting offer."
Elias cut in. "Wait. What's in the book?"
The woman leaned in, her breath like old wine. "Fate. Curses. And the names of every soul tied to the sea."
Raina looked at Jack. "Do you believe that?"
Jack smiled. "Doesn't matter, love. The compass brought us here."
They traded.
As Jack pulled the book toward him, the tent darkened. The candles flickered. And for a moment, Elias swore he heard the sea whispering through the walls.
Jack opened the book.
Blank.
Then one word flared on the first page:
Elias.
Elias froze. "What the hell—?"
The pages flipped wildly. Symbols, drawings, strange maps no one could recognize.
Then the book snapped shut.
Jack stared at Elias. "Well… that's new."
The trader was gone.
As if she'd never been there.
The tent returned to its noise and warmth, laughter crashing like waves.
Raina grabbed Elias's arm. "We're leaving."
As they pushed back into the crowd, Elias turned to Jack. "What does it mean?"
Jack tapped the book. "Means, mate… the sea wants something from you."
Elias smirked. "Then let it take me."
Jack slung an arm over his shoulder. "Now you're thinking like a pirate."
And the two vanished into the crowd—laughing, scheming, heading straight into whatever madness came next.
For the first time in his life, Elias wasn't running from trouble.
He was chasing it.
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