Chapter 10: Where To, Captain?
The sails caught the wind like wings, snapping and groaning as the ship—The ship—cut through the waves with renewed purpose. Raina was at the helm, her hands steady on the wheel, eyes locked ahead. The saltwater breeze tangled in her dark hair, but she didn't flinch. She moved like someone who had done this all her life—calm, sharp, and silent.
Below the crow's nest, Jack Sparrow stood at the quarterdeck, leaning lazily against the rail, the strange book in his hands.
Blank.
Utterly, hopelessly blank.
Except for one thing.
A single name written on the first page in faded ink:
Elias Deake
No title. No story. No map. Just that name, sitting there like a riddle the sea itself couldn't answer.
Jack tilted the book, shook it lightly, tapped it against the wooden rail. Nothing changed.
"Curious," he muttered. "You'd think a cursed old sea witch's book would at least have the decency to glow or hiss or do something exciting…"
He sighed, letting the book close softly.
And then—footsteps.
Boots, light but confident, came up behind him. Jack didn't need to turn around to know who it was. He could feel it.
Elias Deake.
The boy—no, the pirate—was different now.
The wind ruffled his long dark hair as he stepped beside Jack, the black compass peeking from his coat pocket, and that stolen black sword bouncing at his hip. The shadows clung to him like an old friend.
He didn't look like a homeless boy anymore.
He looked like someone who belonged on a deck like this. Like someone who had salt in his blood.
"Looks like a storm's behind us," Elias said, shielding his eyes as he glanced toward the fading shoreline. "Good."
Jack didn't answer. Not yet.
Elias looked down at the book still clutched in Jack's hand.
"That the one she gave you?" he asked, curious.
Jack nodded. "Yes, and it's about as useful as a one-legged parrot in a swordfight."
Elias chuckled. "What's in it any thing new excited"
Before he can continue
"Nothing much," Jack said, flipping it open again. "Except your name. Just... your name."
Elias raised an eyebrow. "I didn't put it there."
Jack looked at him, studying the boy with more focus now. "Didn't think you did."
The ship creaked beneath them, alive with the rhythm of the sea.
Raina's voice rang out from the helm, "Wind's shifting! We'll need to pick a heading soon."
Elias stepped forward to the edge of the deck, staring out at the endless blue.
The horizon was wide, open, and waiting.
He turned back to Jack, a small grin tugging at the edge of his lips.
"So," he said, spreading his arms, "where to, Captain?"
Jack looked at him, then at the book, then back to the boy who stole his compass, nearly got them both arrested, and now stood beside him like they'd always sailed together.
Jack Sparrow smiled.
"Anywhere," he said softly. "Everywhere."
Elias nodded. "That's a good answer."
"Damn right it is," Jack added, straightening up, swagger in full form. "Now then—how do you feel about treasure?"
Elias smirked. "I feel like I haven't stolen enough of it yet."
Jack's grin widened. "Excellent. Then we're going to Isla de la Muerte."
Raina groaned from the helm. "Is that place even real?"
Jack shrugged. "Only one way to find out, love."
Elias was already moving, heading down to check the sails, barking orders to the few scattered crewmen they had picked up—half-drunk pirates, thieves, and liars—but for the first time, his voice carried like it belonged there.
Jack watched him go, the wind tugging at his coat, the compass silent in the boy's pocket.
"Something tells me," he whispered to himself, "this is going to be interesting…"
The sea opened up in front of them.
And the journey was only just beginning.
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