Black Sea

Chapter 2

It's funny how a piece of wood could evoke such deep feelings. A round curved item, hanging from my neck was everything left to remind me my home; safety and warmth. It passed from sailor to sailor, held by great men with goals and skills. And now I could hold the same item. Despite it's weight, it felt heavy in my hands. Stuffed with dangers, responsibilities and thoughts.

As the boat floated over the shallow waters away from the harbour, I peaked behind my back. Warm and transparent water in bluish and light greenish shades, soft golden sand, palms and other tropical plants bowing over it. That was Aeradale. Pirate's home. My home.

I looked ahead again. The necklace fell from my palm, getting lost inside the smooth fabric of my shirt. Shore seemed already distant, the waters started getting deeper and deeper as the short waves splashed shalty drops on my face. The man who rowed the boat barked a laugh. He sat clumsily over sacks of clothing, moving the paddles. He wore loose linen trousers over emaciated legs and bare white feet resting on a cushioned stool. He was two halves, one alive and powerful, one dead and a burden to him.

“You're gonna miss Aeredale, Zane?”

“Maybe Seth. I haven't left yet.”

“Oh, you will.” Seth smiled vigorously. His blackened teeth ruined my mood and sense of comfortality. “Like your old man.”

“How do you know?” My curiosioty well hidden, under a stoic pale face.

“That necklace you're wearing.” He showed with a trembling finger after throwing one paddle. The boat curted a little. “It came back without him, I delivered the bad news.”

My lips parted for a milisecond, but adopted the usual expression and looked away from the annoying old man. I attemted to catch a glimpse of the bottom of the sea, but couldn't. However, it was that in the surface that caught my attention. A well known face which I had learned to spent my whole life with. Stoic and cold, even for me in was impossible to read. The clear eyes were jade green like the water, melding in with them.

I stared and stared. Inside them there was a boy. A thief that got away with his tricky personality and confidence. And on the other side stood a man. A sailor who was ready to start the journey of his life with only weapons his strength and sense of realisation. The two sides of me stared at each other for a long time, arguing who would prevail on the new adventure ahead. Each was holding tight at memories and rules.

The little boat started sailing again, ripping the small waves in half inside the silence. In the most distant part from shore was the ship I was interested in. From afar it didn't have any distinguishable difference from the rest in port. However, in a few minutes the greatness of ‘The Black Curse’ started showing off.

Black, monumental. There was no sound proving the existence of life on it, not even a seagul resting on its black sails. The boat finally reached the side of the pirate's brigantine. Its shadow accomodated a cool breeze and a better view of the black beauty. The swell of the ocean rocked the boat gently. Between the two vessels, the waters boiled and the breeze seemed like a whisper to my ears. I listened. It was an invitation, a promise, a challenge. Every cell on my body nodded in acceptance and I raised to my feet, swaying under the rythm of the waves. But before boarding on the ship, Seth had one last thing to add.

“Be careful in there... Rumour has it that the Captain is a ghost.” His eyes dark, glaring with parted lips the Black Curse.

“Is that so?” My voice was full of irony and superiority.

“Every sail is a victorious one!” Seth complainted. Like that was enough proof of the existence of ghosts.

Again, no reply came out of my mouth. I was far too impresed from Seth's stupidity to comment anything. I put my two fingers on my mouth, and whistled all the air out of my lungs.

“Zane Turner!” I screamed out my name and whistled again with greater force. I was waiting for any interaction from the silent crew on board. I didn't move a muscle, apart from that of my heart. It was beating so fast, that I could sense it on my skin. Complicated scenarios passed over my head. The last one was what made me give up: What if they really are ghosts?

Before I could turn around and sail away, the hurried sound of footsteps inflamed my curiosity. From the deck, a long rope was thrown down. The sound of the collision with the wood was like leash on flesh that pierced my eardrum. But I couldn't hesitate anymore. I grabbed my medieval leather bag and left. I never looked back at Seth, or even shore. Something I regretted days after.

Once my feet banged on deck, the waters flowed beneath me. A wave of salty air collided with my face and the movement that seemed to be, was now interrupted by my presence. The crew members stared at me, their eyes sucking every single detail of my appearence and movements as I did the same. The first encounter with the people I would spent the years in sea was filled with silence. Not necessarily a cold one, but definately breath taking.

Under the sound of waves and the wind, some heavy and slow footsteps distracted the members of the crew. I followed their eyes and met a man. His skin was full of scales like a pure fish left in the middle of a desert. In addition to that, it had gained an ugly tan which contradicted with the grey hair on his head and face. However, his appearance didn't stop him from showing off his power as a Captain. Maybe the eyes played a part. Chestnut brown, full of life and energy. I focused on them. They expressed a kind of unregular warmth like a fireplace in a snowfall. Much needed, indeed, yet quite suspicious.

The Captain approached me until only a whisper was needed to hear him.

“Welcome to the crew.”

No hand gesture, no smiles or any other unneeded expression. Only words spoken by a voice deep and hoarse. As a response I gave a sharp nod, trying not to raise my chin too much after. The Captain turned his torso to the crew of fifty staring wide eyed. Some were in the circle around us, others hanging from the ropes over our heads.

“Zane Turner. Trained under the supervise of Mr Lawrence and with a two year experience as a Captain on a sloop. He is now a quartermaster.”

All eyes on me, something being slightly different from the first few looks. I wasn't a stranger anymore, but someone chosen by the most trusted person on board. Their Captain, Kane Rackham.

I knew since day one what my relationship with pirates ought to be. If I needed money from that crew, I had to be trusted so much more than the Captain that theoretically, I could be elected as Captain myself. Earn and give, demand and sacrifice.

Determined not to lose any time, I threw away the small part that reminded me of the boy I once was. Now I was a grown up man; no emotions and pointless goals getting on my way. It was a good start, a new beggining. On that ship, I could be whoever I wanted. That thought alone was so appealing, one could get lost at the depths of its meaning.

“Mr Turner,” Captain Rackham said. “Follow me.”