Linked

Music while reading: [summer seas and salty wind (piratecore)]

Jack's eyes fell upon a circular stone item, its surface adorned with intricate lines and circles, ensconced in a web of dark blue, vine-like patterns.

For Mary, it was a triangular stone piece, adorned with an array of flowers, the same dark blue vines entwining its surface.

As Jack took the item in hand, he extended his arm to examine it, proclaiming, "Oi Mary, this be no gold, just a piece of worthless stone."

However, Mary remained oblivious to Jack's comment, drowned out by the chorus of creatures, their prayers rising like a hymn in a church.

With the stones in their grasp, the creatures ceased their devotions, signaling with clenched fists striking their chests, their movements synchronized in a resounding beat.

Understanding the creatures' desire and with no signal from Jack to flee, they mimicked the creatures' actions. At that moment, the stones adhered to their clothing, eroding through the fabric, then burrowed inward, just right of their hearts. A scream of agony erupted from both of them, their bodies fixed in place as if bound.

"AAAAARGGHH."

Only their arms retained mobility, futilely attempting to seize the stones. But it was too late; the stones had already become a part of them. The wounds left behind swiftly closed and began to heal.

No longer did they sense the stones within them physically; instead, they felt as though their bodies had absorbed the stones. Beads of sweat glistened on their foreheads as they panted heavily.

Suddenly, the sky shifted, clouds shrouding the once-clear expanse. Rain cascaded from above, accompanied by thunder. Two bolts of lightning struck, incinerating the thrones and jolting them forward from the electric shock. They plummeted to the ground, convulsing.

The creatures erupted in jubilation, witnessing what they perceived as a miraculous event. In reality, Jack and Mary were on the brink of death, froth spilling from their mouths.

After a minute of convulsions, they opened their eyes, their memories of events post-stone-taking a haze. He now comprehended the creatures' speech.

"HAIL THE THUNDER, HAIL THE SPARK," the creatures chorused in unison.

Jack, glancing to his right, saw Mary regaining her senses. "OI LASS, RUN, RUN."

With Mary trailing just behind him, there was no time for communication; they bolted through the field into the forest. Jack located the stone arch and led the way, now aware of the path back to his ship.

As Jack's hand wrapped around the worn leather hilt of his trusty machete, he secured it snugly in the belt loop, a seasoned routine etched into muscle memory. The familiar weight of the gun and the reassuring jingle of his leather pouch completed his arsenal.

Meanwhile, Mary hoisted her cherished barrel of spirits onto her shoulder with practiced ease, a precious cargo that promised camaraderie and courage on their voyage.

With a coordinated leap, they dove into the sea, reveling in the newfound agility that allowed them to glide effortlessly through the water, becoming one with the rhythmic sway of the waves.

"Strange sensation, isn't it, lass?" Jack's voice echoed over the lapping waves as they swam.

"Aye, captain," Mary replied, her words carried by the gentle sea breeze.

Back on deck, they ascended the ladder in unison. Jack wasted no time, placing their salvaged belongings on the worn planks before striding purposefully towards the capstan.

Muscles flexed and strained as he cranked, calling the anchor from its seafloor slumber.

Mary joined him, her determination mirrored in the set of her shoulders. Together, they heaved, the rhythmic creak of the capstan harmonizing with the roll of the waves.

As the anchor drew nearer, Jack's voice pierced the salty air, a sharp command, "Oi, release the sails!"

Mary sprang into action, fingers deftly working the knots that held the canvas in check. With a swift flourish, the sails unfurled, billowing like the wings of a seabird taking flight.

She pulled the halyards taut, the fabric swelling against the wind.

With the anchor now secure in its cradle, Jack swiftly navigated to the helm, his weathered hands gripping the tiller.

"TRIM THEM!" he bellowed, a call to action that reverberated across the ship.

Mary's eyes gleamed with determination as she deftly adjusted the sails, each motion fine-tuning their capture of the wind's bounty.

The ship responded, its timbers humming in agreement as it began to surge forward, a creature reawakened, eager for the open sea.

Jack deftly guided the tiller to the left, coaxing the ship into a graceful turn.

As the ship sailed on and veered to the left, Jack centered the tiller and called for Mary to join him.

"Come have a look, Mary," he beckoned, gesturing towards the island where the creatures still knelt in prayer.

"Those daft creatures, what have they done?" she mused.

"I can't rightly say, Mary, but I feel... changed, somehow. Do ye sense it too?" Jack inquired.

"Aye, Captain. There's a power about me, though I can't put me finger on it just yet," she admitted.

Hearty laughter erupted from Jack as he pointed a weathered finger at Mary's chest, her robe torn near the bosom by the stone. "Arrr, lass, ye've discovered a new power, it seems! Best cover up, or ye'll be causin' me go...!"

He gestured at his once pristine, now soiled breeches, his fingers tracing a path up and down.

Mary shot him a feisty glare and gave his hand a swift swat. "Captain, mind yer manners!"

Jack's laughter rolled like thunder. "Well, then! Get yerself changed and fetch us a brace of grog. It's time we celebrate our scape!"

Mary's eyes sparkled with happiness. "Aye aye, Captain!"

...

As the seas lay calm and the night sky unfurled its celestial tapestry, adorned with shimmering stars and a golden moon, Jack and Mary found themselves in the captain's quarters, their spirits still flowing as freely as the sea breeze.

Within the cabin, a sturdy wooden table stood at the center, flanked by two fixed chairs. The table held a weathered map of the Sea of Lerton, its edges tinged with age, and atop it rested their wooden cups filled with spirits.

The cabin's walls bore fixed metal frames, each holding a flickering candle that cast dancing shadows upon the wooden panels, creating an intimate ambiance.

With a resounding thud, they emptied their cups in unison.

"Burp," Mary announced, a grin playing on her lips.

"Burp," Jack echoed, the hearty sound reverberating through the cabin.

"Arr, Mary, I'm findin' meself growin' accustomed to these newfound powers. Stand aback, and let me give ye a proper showin'," Jack proclaimed.

Mary, a mix of curiosity and amusement, watched with a raised brow, half expecting a playful jest from her captain.

As Jack rose from the chair, the ship's gentle sway nearly sent him off balance. With a steadying grip on the table, he chuckled, "HAR HAR, we'll need to keep a weather eye on the ship soon."

Mary nodded in agreement.

Bracing himself against the table for stability, Jack leaned closer to Mary, his face contorting in concentration as he sought to harness his newfound power.

"Captain, I must admit, ye look more like a sea dog than ever," Mary remarked, breaking into a fit of laughter that rocked her back and forth.

"Take a closer look at me eye, lass," Jack urged, pointing to his right eye.

Mary, her vision slightly blurred by the spirits, leaned in for a better view.

Jack's eye held no trace of white, but was instead a deep, unbroken shade of dark blue. Etched upon it was the same symbol as the stone, a golden circle encircled by a smaller one.

"Captain, yer eye!" Mary exclaimed, awe evident in her voice.

"HAR HAR, I can feel it, Mary. I can see where the treasures lie, just by gazin' upon 'em," Jack announced, a triumphant glint in his eye.

Though Mary felt a touch of skepticism, the shared experience with the creatures left little room for doubt. Something extraordinary had transpired, likely tied to the mysterious treasure they couldn't quite remember.

"Incredible, captain. I be wonderin' what be hidden within me. How did ye come across this?" she inquired.

Taking his seat, Jack blinked, his eye returning to its normal state, devoid of the mystical symbol and colour. "Ye find it within, lass, the link between ye and the treasure. Then, ye command it with yer thoughts, and it answers."

Mary's expression turned serious, her eyes narrowing in intense concentration. The sound she emitted was akin to that of a distressed pig, as she poured every ounce of her focus into the task at hand.

"Aye, Mary, there be no need for such theatrics. Ye need to feel it within, not wrestle it out," Jack advised, a grin dancing on his lips.

Mary let out a sheepish laugh, taking heed of the captain's words. She closed her eyes, seeking the elusive link between her and the treasure. In the depths of her mind's eye, she found it—a dark void illuminated only by the glowing symbol.

Focusing her will, she commanded it, hoping she'd succeeded. When she opened her eyes, she met Jack's gaze, anticipation flickering in her eyes. "Captain, do ye see any change?"

Jack leaned in for a closer look, but before he could respond, a faint scent of burning wood wafted through the air. His instincts kicked in, swiftly identifying the source. With a quick, albeit singeing movement, he redirected Mary's hands, inadvertently burning and zapping himself in the process.

"AAARGH, Mary, steady there! Watch yer power!" he exclaimed, shaking his singed hand and resettling into his chair.

Mary's eyes widened in realization as she looked down at the scorched table, her hands marked in black. "I'm truly sorry, Captain. I didn't mean to."

Jack let out a hearty chuckle, a forgiving smile gracing his features. "No harm done, lass. It be a learnin' process for us both."

He shifted in his chair, turning serious once more. "We've been gifted, Mary. What say ye to sailin' with me full-time, seekin' treasures and spirits to our heart's content?"

Mary contemplated the offer, her gaze steady. "AY AY, Captain."

"Oi, Mary, check the navigation," Jack commanded.

Mary turned her attention to the compass, charts, and map. After a thorough examination, she announced, "We've strayed from our course. Tilt to port and hold it steady for two minutes."

Jack's grin broadened. "Well done, Mary. To port it is, let's make way."

As Jack manned the helm, tilting it to port, Mary stood on the deck, ever vigilant, awaiting any further orders.

"Mary, attend to the main sails! Let 'em catch the wind's breath!" he bellowed, his voice carrying over the expanse of the ship, prompting Mary to swiftly carry out his directive.

The next destination on their voyage was the renowned trade haven known as Silk Harbor. This bustling island was home to a mere 300 souls, yet it held a storied reputation as a thriving hub where pirates convened to barter their wares.

Among these goods, silk reigned supreme—a coveted fabric donned not only by Gentry and Nobility, but occasionally even by daring female Pirate Captains, adding a touch of regality to their swashbuckling attire.