Those Condemned to Freedom

[Captain Del]

You wouldn't believe the number of times I revised this chapter.

Well, here be the last chapter of build up in the story - and look, it's pretty short, too! Hope you enjoy it, mates! So, I present to you:

The Language of Freedom

The large War Frigate cut in between the two large cliffs that acted as a natural barrier to the cove. They rose far above them, at least triple the height of the tallest mast, commandingly tall and strong in their stature. From over them peaked the dark night, fogged by the clouds that sat before it. The waters that the ship's hull cut through the calm waters below them, carefully washing over the wood and rocks that protruded out of the shallow waters. The air was hot, yet the spines of the crew shivered as, through the fog, their target pierced through in the darkness. The tall figure rose in to the air like the Tower of Babel, but this was not what it was - this place was a convergence of people from across the globe, who spoke but one language - the language of freedom.

"Easy now, mate." Delmaria whispered to John as he gripped to the wheel tighter and tighter. The bay around them only allowed passage to the most agile and worthy of pirates, but Delmaria assured himself his crew would be let through by the sea, for the sole purpose of preserving this city of injustice. He eyed every single fiber of the waters that they passed, locked solely on the moment. He reached his hand up his neck, and gripped it around the small silver cross that hung there. His thick, grizzled hands were shaking, but the thought of Leanne soothed his mind.

Their ship slowly reached the fragmented wooden dock, the full mass of the town now in its full glory. The twisted and mangled wooden homes, buildings, and remnants spiraled up magically in a stout yet strong fortress, cut in to the sky. It was a wonder that could not be appreciated solely in words, which such a stunning sight still resided on this Earth. Delmaria could feel the stirrings of this magic place vibrate down his spine, as though the spirits of the ancient pirates who resided here were greeting him to their home. He could not tell if this was a good thing.

Delmaria walked to the right side of the ship, where he looked down on the now parallel dock. It was a shambled, tilted dock that stuck out of the water, and then led down in to a small tunnel that dipped in to the water just a little, and then rose up like a hill, in to the rest of the city. Guards lined the entire area, wielding weaponry that was born by the hands of only the more refined masters of war. They stared sternly at the ship, and amazingly persistent, for the pirate type of person. Delmaria found himself in a trance of sorts, before snapping to, and shouting out to nobody in particular, "Lower down the boards!"

He pounded down the steps quickly as his crew hurriedly assembled on the main deck, bringing up the boards that connected the ship to the dock, and leaning them down the side. Just as they got in to position, still rocking slightly, Darkskull abruptly jumped on top of it, and walked down it quickly, his boots splashing on the water that covered the dock. He looked around him, waiting for somebody to greet him, as his crew followed behind him.

Finally, from his left, a man walked forward, swaying slightly in his own drunken dance. His loose linen clothes hung down from his body, as did his drouping mustache and beard, intertwined in beads, did from his dark brown face. Atop his head, sat a large, black tricorn, under which his head of decorated dreadlocks hung. He poked his vision under them, with a questioning look, before nodding in assurance and continuing forward with a smile. The smart-faced man reached out a hand and shook Delmaria's.

"Jack, pleasure to see you again - even under his circumstances." Darkskull huffed.

"Pleasure to see you, Mr. Darkskull... to say the least. Welcome to Shipwreck Cove, mate."

"So are we just going to stand here, or shall we be on our way?" Delmaria asked as he began to walk around Jack.

Sparrow turned about and walked along side him, running his hand on Delmaria's shoulder and saying "The meeting's already started, mate."

1

The two pirates pushed open a heavy set of eccentric double wooden doors, glazed by time and carved in a sort of maze, describing a story of sorts. It featured ships, people, monsters, and the ocean, all mixing an acting in reaction to each other, each both angered and fighting with the other, but showing no clear winner.

Beyond it, was a long hall, previously the hull of a ship, with curved spars rising up at the side in images of mermaids and skeletons to support the ceiling. From the ceiling, hung a large chandelier, which was draped over the top with a blanket of stark-white cob webs, thick and unmoving. And under the light, sat a large, long table, with nine chairs lining around the sides, each deriving of its own origin. The table was surrounded by a large crowd, which silently turned to the two as they and their crews entered.

Delmaria found himself the center of attention, the eyes of men and women of every race and ethnicity staring down at him. They were cloaked from rags to riches, and each little group huddled in their own area of the room. They stood anxiously, but controlled, waiting eagerly to see what the new Pirate Lord would do. Some smiled, some glared, and others stood stoic and unwavering. Delmaria could feel the attention upon him, as he was the man who had called for this meeting only days after his "choosing." He could feel the room torn.

Darkskull slowly stepped forward, his boots creaking on the wood floor. Right at his side, before the table, was a large globe, out of it sticking eight long swords. These swords represented the pirate's freedom to plunder from whatever the world he chose - and, that the captains wouldn't fight each other in the hall. They each gutted in to the area of the globe which it's owner came from - each ocean was filled with metal, except for the Atlantic. Delmaria walked up to the globe, placing a hand on it, and spinning it. As the area of England cut across his gaze, he felt a sharp pain of sadness inside, but he ignored it. As the world slowed down, he pulled The Liberator from its sheath, and cut it in to the globe, slicing right in to Atlantic, and stopping the globe. The rest of the room clapped in approval, as he walked around it and followed Jack to the right side of the table, where their chairs were.

Delmaria was guided to the middle chair on the right side of the table, in between Jack's, to his right, and the Spanish Pirate Lord, a tall, burly, and hairy man by the name of Eduardo Villanueva. The two took their place in front of the chair, while they stared at Delmaria, who looked down at his. It was a tall, throne-like chair, dark in color and carved in twists and turns to represent the swirling of the ocean. It's seat consisted of a tattered, stained cushion, drops of blood giving it it's character. And at the top, a Kraken sat, it's tentacles reaching slightly out over the chair, as to embrace the head of its member. Delmaria took note the chair was by far the tallest in the room, wondering whether it was just a coincidence, or something higher than that.

Darkskull slowly walked to the front of the chair, and took a huff of air. The rest of the room still stared at him, awaiting his next move. Cautiously, Delmaria slowly lowered himself in to the seat, his back resting slightly and upright against the wood work. He rubbed his hands on the arm of the chair as he settled himself, taking in to detail every cut and curve. When he was finally ready, he looked straight out on to the table, commencing the rest of the Pirate Lords to simultaneously take their seats.

As the room fell silent from the Pirate Lords' motion, they once again shifted their attention back to Delmaria. As he looked around, unsure of what to do, Sparrow stuck out an elbow and nudged Darkskull, bringing him to a realization. Slowly, Delmaria rose to his feet, the center point of everybody's focus. He tilted his head up confidently for a moment, cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"Good evening, my Brethren. Welcome to the Fifth Meeting of the Brethren Court of Pirates." Delmaria nodded. "You have been ushered here so hastily because we have fallen under a dark time, my friends. No longer are the free ports that we mingle in safe, no longer are the waters we sail free from persecution. We find ourselves facing a global threat, that is not focused on trade, or wealth, but ourselves."

The crowd buzzed in concern, Pirate Lords twisting back and forth in their seats. One of them, a funny-looking French man by the name of Chevalle on the far side of the table, asked "And what exactly do you mean by this?"

"It appears... that one of our foes, Captain Roger Renveil, has returned to us... from death." As the room started to cry and shout in outrage, Delmaria shouted out, "SILENCE!" As the room hushed, he smiled in victory, and continued. "Bickering and disputing between us will get us nowhere. Renveil may not have been such an enemy in the past, but he is now. He demonstrated that to all of us when he sacked and nearly destroyed Tortuga. And I'm sure that if he could damage Tortuga to such an extent, then God only knows what he could do to Shipwreck Cove in his fullest stature."

"Do we know what he is going after?" A Chinese sailor said directly across from Delmaria, the translator for Ching.

"Yes, he's going after something called, 'The Headstone.'"

As he said those words, the room’s ears perked up to a thundering sound of heavy boots clamping down on the floor, on the far end of the room. The pirates turned to the head of the table, where there approached a thin, scraggly looking figure, cloaked in a thick black beard and a long red coat. His face was angry after withstanding the test of time, grunted and wrinkled in a sharp manner, ready to snap at anybody who went against his word. The room instantly stood up at his presence, and removed their hats.

The man stepped forward, placing his hands down on the head of the table. "The Headstone, you say? My, he surely is reaching farther than any of us could hope."

"What do you mean, Mr. Te... Captain?" Delmaria quivered a little.

"The Headstone is more elusive than the Fountain of Youth itself.... it grants it's wielder the power to control death itself, and as such, it is always found somewhere in history... wars have been decided by that stone, crusades have been led. It is constantly switching hands, so much so by the time you catch it's trail, it's already gone."

"And do you know where it is, Captain?"

"Yes.... here."

In the distance, far behind the room, the crack of cannon balls raged and flared down. They could hear crashing, screaming, and a calling of arms. The guards in the room instantly ran to the doors and locked them tight, placing huge panels before them, to let nobody in, or out.

The war for the Caribbean had begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so, we near the arrival of the final chapter. I kept this one as short as possible so I can really bulk up the last chapter.

Comments? Reviews? You better get them out while you can, mates - our story has neared it's end!

[The Stealthy Pirate]

Ooo.... EPIC!!


Good Chapter./applaud.

I dont mean to nag, but it would cool if I could come in...

[SEAKING23]

Woot! More epic battles

Great chapter!!

[Chris Ironhawk]

Originally Posted by Stealthy Cannoneer

I dont mean to nag, but it would cool if I could come in...

He is getting ready for the final chapter... Whatever characters are in the story at the moment are final, unless he decides to bring in new characters at the last minute.

AWESOME CHAPTER, Del! Can't wait for the finale!

[Captain Del]

Well mates, the time has come. I have both waited for and dreaded this moment for so long, so I might as well just go right to it.

So, my readers, for the last time in Those Condemned to Freedom, I present to you:

Beyond the Afterlife

Chaos erupted in the room as soon as the doors had been fully locked. Pirates from across the room abandoned their captains, and poured towards the doors in a panic, ramming in to it like a wave of rolling thunder. They pushed against each other violently, screaming, shouting, and fighting one another, to try to get to the front. The Pirate Lords themselves began yelling at one another from across the table, slamming their fists and pointing fingers in outrage. Jack and Delmaria stood in front of their chairs, motionless, as the state of the hall slowly destroyed itself.

Finally, a ring peace echoed through the room, in the form of a loud slam against the table. The entire hall quieted, and slowly turned their attention to the head of the long meeting table, where Teague stood. He had his hands planted down a massive, water-logged book, bigger than some of the people that stood in the room. He was smiling crudely, almost amused by the scene that had unfolded before him. "Right then." he rasped, then gripping the side of the book, and flipping it open with a heave. He stood upright, and swaggered back and forth a bit; studying the page he had opened to. "Excellent, just the right page.

"My fellow brethren, it seems that a time of war has fallen upon us. And in such a time when a war is called upon our divided forces, we must unite as one in order to properly overpower our enemies. And, of course, in such a time, we must elect a common leader to fight under."

The room started to cry in outrage once again, pirates throwing their arms up and punching each other for almost no reason. It reminded Delmaria vaguely of Tortuga - and not the one in ruins, either. Teague grunted, and reached to his side, bringing up a pistol and shooting it up at the ceiling. A small shout echoed in the silence of the room, as a small drop of blood fell through the hole in the paneling. "Hehe, oops." Teague chuckled.

"Surely, my brothers, you cannot think that by ourselves we can conquer these foes. When a swordsman moves his cutlass, he does not simply swing wildly in to the wind - no, that's how you are killed. Instead, he attacks with a few organized, strong cuts, and that is how we must form. And quickly, as well, for it seems evil," almost on cue, a large explosion boomed just outside the door leading in to the hall. "...is knocking at our doorstep. So, present your Pieces of Eight!"

Unwaveringly, the Pirate Lords shambled around their persons, and one by one, threw their trinkets out on to the table. Delmaria ran his hand up his neck, and slowly eased the shimmering silver necklace over his head. He brought it down in his hand, and stared at it, one last time. He could feel within it Leanne's being, and parting with it, meant he parted with her. He brought the chain up to his lips, and sent a kiss to her, for the final time. He then threw the chain on top of the pile of junk, and returned to his political stance.

"Good. Now, shall we begin the voting!" Teague smiled, as if he expected a good outcome.

This time, the Pirate Lords began shouting, as their own separate crews flowed behind them. They all demanded that they themselves were pronounced Pirate King, not as a reason to fight, but as a reason to sit in the historic seat. "Sri Sumhajee votes for Sri Sumhajee!", and other chants along those lines filled the air. It seemed as though this meeting was going nowhere, until a bold motion occurred. Delmaria easily climbed on to the top of the table, and walked around in the center of it. The room hushed themselves, staring up, to both marvel at this sight, and figure out what the hell he was doing.

"Pirates, can we really spend our time bickering amongst ourselves? Have we not formed this nation of freebooters, for the sole purpose of being free? All along the lines of time, our ancestors have been suppressed by rulers who only seek self gain and greed. And now, when it comes time to choose our own paths, we follow the same road? We have come here to preserve the ideas that all men are created equal, that the pursuit of a common goal, freedom, can be acquired by all who stand for it. And as our greatest enemies converge on this night to stop us, we must turn our heads not away, but in the same direction, as the focus and gaze of all of us together will crack the wall of fury before us. So, my allies, I ask you - shall we condemned ourselves to tyranny, or condemn ourselves to freedom?"

The room had no voice. The planks of the room creaked, and the water dripped. Even the battle outside seemed to quiet, like even the soldiers knew what a moment was unraveling in the Pirate Hall. Delmaria looked around, at every face, looking to find a cause. And as he became distraught, and made his way towards his seat, the crowd slowly began to noise. Darkskull turned to the head of the table, where Teague stood there. He wasn't happy, nor angry. He was clapping.

One by one, the pirates in the room turned around to each other. Their fellow men began clapping, and they soon joined in. A whisper of victory became a roar, and the room consumed itself in cheers and shouts. Delmaria smiled feverously as he looked around the room, at the fact that he himself had stirred this. Through the praise, Teague himself scrambled on to the top of the table, and walked over to Delmaria. He stood before him, tall and proud, and slipped a small, golden ring off his finger. He grasped Darkskull's, and slid it on to his finger. And Delmaria studied it, Teague turned to the crowd and shouted, "BEHOLD, MY COMRADES, YOUR NEW PIRATE KING!"

Darkskull's body shook in goose bumps, as the noise of the room intensified. He thought of his father, long ago, giving him the speech about what it was like to have this seat. He could feel the smile of his father, where ever he was, shining down upon him - for the first time in his life, Delmaria felt loved.

"Alright, hand me my sword!" Delmaria roared, catching the hilt of his sword in mid air, as a few pirates near the globe tossed them to their respective captains. Delmaria held the sword straight, pointing the tip of it's blade towards the door. "On my command, charge the door! READY! ONE, TWO, THR-"

Before he could usher the final shout, the door erupted in a blast of shrapnel and wood fragments. Smoke clouded the entrance as the small pieces of wood flew throughout the room. Delmaria felt himself fall back, on to his backside, almost losing grip of his sword.

1

Skeletons began pouring in to the room, pouncing on to the downed bodies of pirates as they tried to get to their feet. Those that could not grab their blades in time, or escape the oncoming flood of enemy soldiers, met a slow, painful death as the skeletons began to devour their flesh. Delmaria looked up to see one burly boned skeleton, wielding a large, rusted broadsword, hop on to the table, and begin to rush at him.

Delmaria grabbed a firm hold of the Liberator and swung it over, pushing away the skeleton's sword as it came down on him. He then pulled the blade back and quickly thrusted it up, slicing right in between the joints of the neck and the head. The head of the beast slipped clean off, and dropped backward on the table, with the body.

Delmaria jumped to his feet, and ran down the table, jumping off as he hit the edge. His jumped soared him across the fray of bodies, and clean in to the ship hull that acted as the walkway to the room. He nearly slid as he landed, as it tilted downward to the right towards the water, where the dock waited. Masses of pirates ran up and down the place, fighting furiously with the undead that poured in constantly. "Darkskull!" Delmaria heard shouted from the far left of the hull. He looked up the ramp, and saw Sparrow standing there, motioning him towards him. Delmaria gathered a footing, and stormed up the hill, towards Sparrow.

As he met the Pirate Lord at the top of the ramp, they went down a small hop on to a flat walkway, which acted as the main road of the Cove. It ran up the mountain of shipwrecks like a winding path, slowly working its way up as it whirled around the city. They nodded, and ran to the right, where the road started to incline. "The top of the Cove is where my fa... Teague's, quarters are. The Headstone must be up there."

Delmaria snickered as they pounded up the road. "Jack, don't be ashamed that you have a father. You're never getting an- DUCK!" Delmaria screamed suddenly, grabbing the top of Jack's head and pushing it down, as he knelt. A heavy barrage of cannonballs rammed in to the buildings just at their side, only a few feet above their head. They took a moment to look out in to what exactly was going on in the closed harbor.

A fleet of about twelve skeleton ships had begun a dance in the bay, with pirate vessels of all makes, origins, and strengths. The waters churned heavily as ships toppled over in to the waves, and ammunition flurried in the air like the wind itself. In the very far end of the bay, the all familiar war ship, black in color and tattered and torn in quality, sat. The Harkaway rocked menacingly, but fired no shots.

Darkskull was awakened from his daze as Sparrow slapped his clean across the face, bringing his attention to what was behind them. A large horde of undead was stampeding out of the ship hull, engulfing any pirate that was there. In the midst of the crowd of skeletons, Delmaria saw one of them carrying a bloodied, white wig - another, a torn yet elegantly woven cloak - and a turban, burnt at the frays. Three of the Pirate Lords were already dead.

The two pirates scurried up the walkway, sprinting past the rubble that fell down from the skies. Planks of wood, shrapnel, and even the bodies of defeat pirates slammed down on to the wood in front of them, but they kept on the move. They pushed past small one on one duels as they passed, trying to not be caught in the mix of a battle. But should one group stray too close to their movement, the two battlers would be pushed by Delmaria and Jack, often toppling over the side of the city.

They reached the halfway point through the Cove, before Jack stopped abruptly in his tracks. Darkskull stopped a few meters ahead of him, turning around in drastic confusion. "C'mon Jack! We need to hurry!"

Jack smiled, drawing his cutlass. "No mate, you're the one that needs to hurry. I think my place in history has been fulfilled - savvy?" The pirate captain winked, before turning around, and running back down the path, around the corner, and out of view. Delmaria could hear shouts, screams, and the clanking of metal on metal. Darkskull was caught there, wondering if the Brethren Court had shrunk once more.

Delmaria turned around and prepared to continue his journey up the Cove, but found his path cut off. Around the bend, came in an eerily familiar sight. Brone Crassus walked down towards him, his hands crossed behind his back. He wore the usually dark, dreary attire, except for one minor change - his face. His face was a new, gone from any scars or burn marks that were previously there. He had both his eyes back, and they shined more devilishly than ever before. "Good to see you again, Mr. Darkskull!" he shouted over the roar of the battle around them, coming to a halt.

"H-...How!" Darkskull gasped.

"The wonders Roger can do, aye!? Surely if you choose to join us now, he'll be more than willing to help you as well." Crassus grabbed at his side, and pulled out that same shadowy broadsword, now in better condition than ever. "Unless, if you choose not to..."

By the time Brone neared the end of his sentence, Delmaria was already in full charge, raising his cutlass over his head and thundering a lion-like battle cry. He swooped down his blade in a disastrous swing, but the farthest it went was right above Crassus. His opponent caught the Liberator with his bare hand, and pushed it back with a staggering force. He chuckled. "Now it's your turn to see what I can do."

Crassus pulled back his broadsword, and thrusted it forward, initiating a flurry of twisting and turning strikes, each more powerful than the last. Delmaria back-tracked to avoid the swings, trying desperately not to fall back and topple down the Cove. Yet at his final step, he felt himself shoved forward by a bony hand. He turned around, to see the same wall of skeletons, laughing wildly with their bloodied teeth. And the blood that dripped from their teeth was fresh.

Delmaria spun around again, but it was far too late to do anything. As he turned, his blade stuck out slightly, and loosely. When Crassus met him with a huge swing of his sword, it sent the Liberator out of his hands, flying through the air, and over the edge of the walkway. Darkskull almost stepped to go after it, but his path was blocked by Brone's sword. He was trapped.

2

Crassus shoved Delmaria violently in to one of the middle cells of the jail, a long wall of cells filled with weeping and crying people of all sorts. He was lifted off his feet by the push, sweeping him through the air and slamming his body down on to the grimy cobblestone. He scrapped his hand on the floor, making it painful to try and push himself up to a sitting position. Crassus snickered at him, as he locked the cell door shut. "Get used to this place. When the Cove is ours, Roger is sure to save your execution for last." He walked away, laughing his mind off.

Delmaria slowly slinked himself up, and pushed him back against the stone wall. His entire body ached, after how the skeletons had ferried them here - pushing and punching him through the streets. The skeletons had commandeered the Shipwreck jail, which was hardly ever used, as a place to keep their very own prisoners of war. Through a small opening at the top of the wall he leaned on, Delmaria could still hear the battle raging behind him.

He put his head back against the wall, and slowly began to weep. He knew that in his one moment of glory, he had failed to do anything to stop Roger. He pictured all the death and destruction as a result of his poor leadership - it sickened his stomach.

"Do not cry, my child." A soft, warming voice came from before him. He tilted his head up, where, of all things, an old woman stood. And what was even stranger about this sight, was Delmaria recognized her.

"Who are you, exactly?"

"Oho, there's no need to know that, child. All you must know is that you did not come to this world for no purpose - and your purpose is not yet fulfilled!"

"...What, do you mean?"

"I have been watching you, my child. I have seen you grow and develop since you were young, because I was told to do so." she smiled at him.

Delmaria slowly started to remember her. Images of this same old woman came flowing from his past - from when he was a child, to the invasion on Port Royal, to seeing her in the crowds of Havana. He quickly scurried to his feet, and ran up to the jail cell bars. He got right up to them, and wrapped his hands around them. "T-t-then what am I supposed to do!?"

"Well, my child, you cannot fulfill your destiny on your own. You need help, of course!" she saw the lost look in his face, and continued. "Do you believe in fate, my son?"

Delmaria nodded very quickly. She smiled a senile, toothless smile. "Then, do you have my rosary beads?"

Delmaria's heart raced. He nearly dove down to a kneeling position, and gripped his left boot. He pulled it off as though there were gold inside of it, and pulled out the beautiful set of rosary beads. They shook in his hand wildly as he stood up, and handed them to her.

She took them in her hands, and smiled again, in approval. "You've done good, my child. You've done good."

In a quick maelstrom of wind, a white smoke consumed her body, swirling like a tornado. It completely covered her, concealing her away. Delmaria held his hands before his face, protecting himself from a bright light that shot out of it. He could feel the warmth of it flowing over his body, sizzling his skin and his wounds. He felt one final surge of it, before the light vanished.

He looked back out, after making sure it all was gone. He looked across his body - there were no marks, no bruises, no blood. The doors to all the cells had been swung open, as all the prisoners looked around to make sure it wasn't some kind of trick. And of all things, he looked down at his side. There, sat that same golden cutlass that Thorhammer had given him, and the rag was tied around the hilt, just like Delmaria liked.

The pirate drew his cutlass, and stepped out of the jail. "FORWARD, PIRATES!"

3

The wave of pirates ran like a monsoon across the outer walkway of Shipwreck cove, cutting down and slicing any skeleton that crossed their path. Some one hundred pirates ran behind Delmaria, like a well-organized militia set on taking its goal. Their shouts and cries as they chopped away at their foes gave Delmaria a high of adrenaline, making him run faster and farther with each step. He felt the blood of his enemies running on the ground, and it felt good.

The army of pirates had reached the summit of the Cove within minutes. It was a large, wooden square, with the bow of a ship sticking straight up on the far end of the courtyard. It was filled with skeletons cheering and roaring before the building, thinking they had one control of the city. But as they turned to see the armada of pirates charging at them, the dismay on their bones was truly something to see.

The pirates were a dagger right in to the skeletons, splitting their force in half, and then charging in to consume them. Off guard, the skeletons tried to flee, but the pirates were quick in reaching them. The entire square became engulfed in war, blood and bone spilling and falling across the floor.

In the middle of it all, Crassus shouted loudly, trying to organize the fray of undead soldiers. He was scared at the sight of his army being ripped to shreds, but his face only became more fearful when he heard a shout from behind him. "Ahoy, Captain Crassus!"

Brone turned around to the feeling of a long, sharp cutlass cutting deep in to his abdomen. His face was washed in a shocked, lost look, as his wide open mouth let out a deep, long sigh. Darkskull pulled back his blade, to watch Crassus fall to the ground before him, on his back. As he laid there, Delmaria knelt over. "Brone, I don't know what you've done in this life, but do something decent in your last hour - where is Roger?"

Crassus was still in aftershock, trying to control his shaking body. "He said... we would... live forever... he lied...." Crassus took his hand, and pointed back, to the building at the end of the courtyard. "There..."

Delmaria turned his attention away from Crassus, and began a jog towards the building. It came upon him faster than he had wanted, but he had no time to reenact the moment. He gripped the door knob of the door, and pushed it open.

Darkskull shut the door, leaving him alone in a quiet room. The place was nothing more than an empty hall - no furniture, no eccentric trinkets, nothing. But at the far end of the dark room, was a desk - and before that desk, stood Roger.

"Well, Mr. Darkskull," Roger said, unsheathing a long, curved cutlass with a gold hilt. "Shall we finish this?"

4

Their swords crashed in a loud, booming clash, echoing through the entire room. Their swords locked on one another, each pirate pushing on his own to try and overpower his opponent. They looked at each other, and then back at their blades, determined to win this deadlock. But as nearly a minute passed, and neither of them gained and advantage, Roger jumped back, and cut his sword down from over his head.

Delmaria side-stepped the attack, laying his blade down on top of Roger’s as it hit against the floor. Delmaria gave it a moment to let Roger build up enough strength to try and push his blade out, and then released the pressure he was applying to the sword by pulling his own back. Roger ended up swinging his blade upward with a tremendous force, but caught himself before he went flying back. Still, it was enough to give Delmaria an opportunity, and he seized the moment.

Delmaria took his blade and ran a small cut along Renveil’s right side. He shrieked in pain for a moment, before clamping a hand over his mouth. His eyes ran back and forth, wondering how he had been damaged. Yet he tried to block out this thought, and returned to the fight, bringing his cutlass up from his side and cutting it across. Delmaria swung the other way, slamming in to the blade, and then running over the blow. Delmaria then tried to take the blade and rebound it back in a diagonal cleave, but Renveil punched it away with a shot of his own. They went at this for a good few minutes – every swing Delmaria made, it was blocked, and the same for Renveil. They seemed to be getting frustrated, and even bored, until Darkskull made a bold move.

Delmaria snapped his sword over his shoulder, and then began a flurry in the form of a eviscerate, widening his stance and waddling forward as he repeated the move over and over. The grip he had on his sword slowly began to slip out of his hand, but he saw Roger was dealing with the same effect. He was backing Roger up, farther and farther, in hopes that he would be able to topple the gargantuan man. Then, right as his sword was about to slip out of his hand, he threw the sword across his body to the other hand, and cut it horizontally.

The cut was unexpected by Roger, and it ended up cutting straight across his stomach. Roger yelled it pain, throwing his free hand to the bloodied cut, and falling to his knees. Delmaria’s heart raced, knowing that his moment had come. He raised the cutlass above his head, and without hesitation, brought it down on Roger. The battle was over, but not as he planned.

Delmaria was stopped halfway through his cleave, in a crash of pain. Renveil had taken his cutlass, and cut it right up through Darkskull’s stomach. The blood trickled down in a stream, dripping down in a pool on the floor. As Renveil stood, Delmaria fell to his knees, dropping his cutlass to hold the one impaled in his body. He was speechless, unable to think or move. All he could do was pull the sword out of his body, and fall back, on to his back.

He laid there in the pool of blood, gasping in a thick, smoldered voice. His mind was consumed in thought. He looked back on his life, and everything he had done. Every event, no matter how joyful or painful, flashed before his eyes. Memories that even he could not recollect came back to him. His life was filled with so much pain and grief, that even the tiniest smile in his mind brought a tear of joy to him. And beyond all this, he wondered what waited for him on the other side – not in the afterlife, but beyond it. Would his memory live on as a hero, or as a villain? And would he be treated as such.

So many questions ran through his head, but he knew the answers would be clear soon. He shut his eyes, and let out a final breath. He was dead.

5

The soft, warm winds of the sea blew across his face, warming him up as the clear blue sky cooled him down. Below his bare feet, was the easy, shaven wood of a fresh ship, balancing perfectly in the crystal, and calm seas below him. He looked around slowly, taking in his surroundings, and smiled.

He felt her silky smooth arms wrap around him from behind, hugging him and embracing him in only the way she could. It was good to be in her arms again, to see her, and to know that she was okay. The love that came from her cleared his black heart of any sorrows he had ever felt, and washed his eyes of any of the black tears he may have cried. She rested her head on the back of his shoulder, and sighed.

“It’s alright, John. I’m here, and I always will be.” She whispered to him. She walked around him completely, to face him. He loved to study that pretty, sparkling face of hers, cradling her shining blue eyes like jewels. She was how he had always remembered her. “But you have another place to be, John. It isn’t your time yet. Don’t worry, I’ll always love you… and I’ll always be waiting…”

The echo of her voice slowly faded, as did the sight of her. His entire surroundings became blurred, and their brightness slowly, then quickly sharpened. He could feel the warm embrace of her one last time, before drifting off.

6

Delmaria’s eyes snapped open widely, as if he were a new born baby. He looked around at where he was – he was still on the floor, still in the puddle of blood, still in that same room. But what wasn’t the same, was he himself – his body was still warm, and his cut in to his body was gone. He blinked wildly, wondering if what he had seen was just a dream, or something farther than that. Delmaria knew, however, that it was a great day to die, but an even better day to live again.

Delmaria pushed himself to his feet, scooping up the cutlass at his side. Renveil had his back to him, looking over the desk. Delmaria smiled, and gave a small whistle. Renveil turned, and his face instantly streaked in fear. He was frozen, as Delmaria gripped the hilt of the golden cutlass. “Have fun in hell, Roger. I sure don’t expect to see you there.”

Delmaria gripped the cutlass, and swung it in a vicious cut, right across Renveil’s neck. His body quaked as the blood dripped down his neck and body, shivering in a dramatic way. He gripped at his neck with his hand, and as he fell to his knees for the final time, he blurred “Damn you, Delmaria Darksk-“ Delmaria never gave him the pleasure of finishing the sentence – he plunged the sword right in to Renveil’s forehead, silencing him for good.

Delmaria’s body untensed with ease. It felt as though a weight that had been on his shoulders for an eternity had been lifted. He dropped his cutlass on the floor, and raised both of his arms above his head. He tilted his head backward, and let out a victorious cry. Nobody was around to hear it, but he did it anyway.

Delmaria then turned his attention to what Renveil had been looking at. He walked over to the front of the desk, where there sat a small, wooden box. Darkskull was sure that beneath it, sat the Headstone; the treasure that men have wanted to claim for so long. He knew the right thing to do would be to hide it, but Delmaria was still a pirate, after all. He opened the lid of the small box, and was stunned by what he saw.

Out of the box, he plucked a small piece of parchment. Scribbled on it, read: “Did you honestly think it would be that easy?”

Delmaria chuckled, and crumpled the paper. “Teague, you clever little dog.

Epliogue

Delmaria looked back over the stern of his ship, examining Shipwreck Cove. The repairs to the city were going as planned - slowly, but as planned. It was only a few days after the battle, but it felt as though everything was already back to normal - or as normal as it was aboard the Victory Shark.

One of the newer crew mates, who they called "Stealthy" for his ability to make rum disappear, walked up behind Delmaria. "Captain, all of the crew is ready."

Darkskull, not looking over his shoulder, said "Are you sure about that?"

"Ask them yourself." he responded, tapping Delmaria on the shoulder. Delmaria turned to see his entire crew assembled there, smiling. They had lost teeth (or whatever teeth that remained,) were draped in bruises and cuts, and looked as tired as work horses, but they were there, nonetheless. Only one person was not there.

"Where is John?" Delmaria asked, looking through the small crowd.

The crew seemed confused. Grace spoke up, saying "Captain, there was never any John in the crew."

Delmaria froze. Was his crew pulling a joke on him, or was this crewmate of his just his imagination at work? He looked around one final time, before shrugging it off. He smiled, and patted his noggin, turning round to look back over the back of the ship. Yet instead of looking back at the city, his attention was drawn to the dock below, by a yell. "Oy, sea buscuit! Down below!"

Delmaria and the rest of the crew leaned over the back of the ship. All of them were either unsure of what was happening, or were just concerned about what everybody was looking at. But Darkskull just smiled and laughed, shaking his head at the sight. Jack looked up at them from the dock, two raggy-looking women under each arm. "You weren't going to leave with a goodbye, savvy?!" he shouted up.

Delmaria chuckled, and returned with this: "Jack, don't see it as a goodbye - see it as a, see you later!

"Now mates, fasten the sails, and set forth for where ever they take us!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that is that

Thank you to everybody who ever followed my story, or even just gave it a glance. I never thought it would come this far, and I owe it all to you mates for bring me here.

Don't fret! My next story is already in the works. When can you expect it?... Well, as soon as I can write it down, of course!

Thanks mates! Be sure to rate and review!

See ya soon!

[SEAKING23]

The effort you put into this is worth it. and thats saying something!

[The Stealthy Pirate]

Yay! Im mention for a brief second... Great Chapter Mate!!!!