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Ocean's Rage
Log 20: A bloody origin

Log 20: A bloody origin

"These three were the absolute strongest of all pirates."

The mist danced in the air soundlessly as Barke looked down at the small figures of the Ascendants he had created with true admiration.

When Jackie looked at the wispy, almost see-through body of Captain Devils, he realized he had indeed seen the old man's face in a painting he had once found in the library at Cariboa.

"Who's that in the painting, Grandpa?"

"Oh, him? He's Captain Devils. The world's strongest pirate!"

He remembered Howie showing him the painting when he was only about ten years old. It was an oil painting of a stern-looking man with narrowed eyes, pale, wrinkled skin, and a cape made of fur, held around his neck by a golden chain.

The man projected by Barke's Mist Ley was the very same man in the painting. "Are you trying to say those three were all involved in the war?"

Barke looked at the three pirates standing between his hands, and nodded almost grudgingly.

"The war, based on what I heard, began when Blackbeard chased down the First Ascendant, Molly, in his quest for power. He took his entire fleet, about 150 vessels strong at the time, against the 200 ships under the flag of the Garileth Pirates."

"Our Captain, Uros Vukic, immediately departed for southeast Chile to stop the Garileth Pirates and the Blackbeard Pirates from clashing. But at the same time, Whitebeard had already united his fleet of 143 ships and left his territory in the South Caribbean for Chile. He had one purpose, to hunt down Blackbeard."

As Barke talked, the mist shifted in shape, now forming a massive ship headed for what appeared to be a battlefield in the ocean, with explosions and towering pillars of smoke rising from a distance. The silk-like mist made it all look flimsy and partially transparent.

"We sent letters to both Whitebeard and Blackbeard in an attempt to negotiate. We recieved no response from Blackbeard, and Whitebeard replied with the statement that he would kill our Captain if he were to try and stop him, and take the title of Second Ascendant." Barke's eyes were filled with an overwhelming sadness as he said these words, a sadness his grinning mask could not hide.

His voice shook as he continued, and Jackie listened to his story in growing astonishment.

"The Blackbeard Pirates and the Garileth Pirates were the first to engage, before Whitebeard arrived two days later. But before dawn, so did Captain Vukic, and then it was a complete free-for-all. Ironically, Whitebeard and Blackbeard found themselves on the same side with the same purpose as they battled against the two Ascendants."

"Then, England heard the news of this war thanks to spies within the fleets. But their supreme Commander at the time was near the coast of South Africa, and it was presumed the war would be over by the time he could have arrived in Chilean waters."

The mist now formed a region of the sea, where ships were firing cannons at each other and massive flames burst out in some. Jackie could even see Whitebeard fighting several people at once on one of the ships' deck. The mist would rapidly split as he cut his opponents, some of them in half and others losing their limbs or even heads.

Barke adjusted his hands, and the mist reshaped itself into Vukic talking to another man with an iron nose and thinly cut hair.

"Captain Vukic understood that England has begun to make their move and that the Supreme Commander was on his way from the country to the battlefield, and ordered a mission to raid London, and steal a certain something from the King."

Jackie raised an eyebrow in confusion. "A certain something? What would that be?" Barke shook his head and raised his finger to the lips of his mask. "A good pirate would rather die with his treasure hidden in his heart than watch it be learnt of and taken in front of him."

He shifted his eyes to the image of Vukic speaking. "We, the Blackheart Pirates, were among the two crews chosen to sneak into the Kensington Palace, and into a particularly well-guarded room known as the Cupola Room. Everything went smoothly then. We managed to get to the room after gliding past dozens of guards...and then, when we removed the item we were searching for from it's position, a massive bell rang out of nowhere. And from then onwards, it was total chaos."

Jackie watched as several pirates were shot and cut down by oncoming soldiers while a man wearing a mask unleashed a massive amount of what looked like mist into the air. Is that Barke?

Now, he saw several people run and dodge gunfire from the soldiers through narrow corridors and hallways. Some were caught in the line of fire and killed immediately, others firmly stood back to buy their fleeing crewmates time, firing or swinging their swords at the oncoming waves of men in uniforms.

"We were outnumbered. There were hundreds...maybe even thousands of them, both firing at us with rifles or taking us on with their swordsmanship. Out of the three hundred of us who took part in the mission, only a handful managed to survive all the way to the port. Several of our men were hit by archers while on horseback. It was the most hopeless situation I've ever been witness to in my life."

Barke sat down on his chair, with the mist still hovering between his outstretched hands. He took a deep breath and continued:

"There was still hope for us, though. We were set to rendezvous with six ships from the Vukic fleet, all of them promised to be armed to the teeth in a small island in the English Channel, called Alderney by the French bandits who had already fled there to escape the infighting within their own country. We had to take a turn south from London and the North Sea to escape the twenty ships they had set after us. Your father and I were among the few who were tasked with protecting the Blackheart Pirates' ship, The Howitzer. The other one we had arrived in was a stolen merchant's ship, and had been destroyed by cannon fire before we could reach it."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"But when we arrived....we couldn't believe it. We couldn't believe it." Barke's voice trailed off, and Jackie saw tears begin to stream from his eyes. "The bandits there gave us a message from the man in charge of the rendezvous, Captain Pekorn. Our Captain, the Second Ascendant, Uros Vukic, had...fallen to the hands of Whitebeard."

Jackie got a brief glimpse of that tall man with the cloak covering his mouth and nose one last time before the mist faded to nothing. The shaking hands of Barke touched the rough texture of his mask as he willed himself to continue, even through the despair.

I will tell him about his parents. I will.

"We didn't know what to do. Only twelve pirates were left, all of us the last surviving members of the Blackheart Pirates. Your mother was gravely wounded, and your father was doing everything he could with his Water Ley to block oncoming cannons and assaults from the fleet behind us. We didn't have the strength or the firepower to face them head on. I thought of giving up. Even thought about trying to make an exchange between what we had stolen from them for our lives."

"But then, our navigator, Joules, suggested a small island called Cariboa not far from Alderney, where we could hide what we had stolen. So we began our journey to Cariboa, with a massive fleet of Royal Guards chasing us, hammering our ship with ranged attacks and cannonfire."

Jackie remembered this from when he was six. He didn't know of the story behind it, of course. Nor did he know what it was they had stolen from England. But he knew something was horribly wrong, and he certainly knew what the blood that dripped from his mother's arm was, thanks to him spending his life till then on their ship.

He could still hear Barke speaking. "I managed to put up a mist veil while your father and mother took you to Cariboa to save your life in a small boat. If it hadn't been for that decision, you would have perished with us too." Barke stood up, and walked towards Jackie.

"They saved your life. And your future." He said, slowly placing his hand on Jackie's head. It felt like a father's touch to Jackie. A feeling far too familiar.

He remembered everything that had happened from that point on since he was a child. No fragmented scenes, no blurry images. It was as if he had seen them yesterday. When he was around nine or ten, he would have nightmares about it.

His father, a muscular, confident man with the air of someone in control despite the blood running down his nostrils and lips. His dark blonde hair dancing in the wind, the three strands covering his left eye wildly whipping around back and forth.

His mother, in a torn white shirt with a short red skirt, the right shoulder of her clothes ripped apart and covered in dark red blood. It dripped down her arm in several long, vine-like paths to her fingertips, where they slowly dripped to the floor as she tried to quickly patch up the opening in her flesh with a piece of cloth. Her face, he remembered, had a worried expression on it. The blood under her left eye only emphasized the uneasiness and tension Jackie had.

They had arrived on the small island of Cariboa on a rowboat, which was barely large enough to fit Jackie and his parents. It was old and battered, and he still had the memory of his clothes, damp and matted to his skin thanks to the seawater as the boat skipped along the massive waves in the rough seas.

His father's hands, cold and bloodstained, firmly holding onto his shoulders as his mother spoke with some of the villagers. Her kneeling to the villagers as she begged them to take him in, to save him.

"Please...please! Take my boy! His name is Jackie...protect him! Show mercy!"

Her voice, a voice slightly deeper and less elegant than most women's, making a desperate plea to these hostile townsfolk. The chief accepting her pleas and embracing her, assuring her that her son would be fine.

His father, now wrapping the surprised man in his own arms around him and thanking him with tears rolling down his face.

He remembered his parents both embracing him together, for a brief moment. A brief moment he wished with all his heart could have been repeated over and over again, tomorrow and forever. For that moment, it was just his sobbing, his mother tucking her head over his shoulder with her hand holding the back of his head, and his father with his arms around both of them.

And then they had to pull away. Jackie knew they were in trouble for some reason, but he didn't understand it. Not then.

He still remembered the feeling of his mother's rough, bloody hands as she cupped them around his face. It was something she often did ever since he was little. And then his dad would laugh at how soft and chubby his face was, and she would laugh with him.

This time, there was no laughter.

"Jackie. Always remember. No matter where I am, I'll always love you!" Her lips trembled as she smiled one last time. "We'll meet again someday...my little Jackie! Someday!"

His father tugged her away from him, a firm look on his tearstained face. "We have to go, Lexi. Hurry!" She gave Jackie one last helpless look, and began running to the boat at the small harbour.

Jackie had watched as his dad unsheathed a sword from his belt. It was most probably a sword he had recently got, since Jackie had never seen him use it before. "Take my cutlass, Jackie. Hold onto it for me. If you ever feel like you need companionship...if you ever feel lonely and want something to hold onto close to you, use this. Okay?"

"Dad...I won't be lonely. You'll come back for me, right? Right? Both you and mommy?" His small voice was shaking. It was only later that he had realized he had been crying, ever since the moment they had left the rowboat. Only later did he realize his shirt had not just been drenched by the sea, but also by his own tears.

His dad didn't reply, and lowered himself to his knees as he gave Jackie his cutlass with one hand on his shoulder. It was one of the few times he could remember seeing his father's left eye, as he shifted his hair aside."Careful." Jackie's hands were small compared to his father's as they grabbed the hilt of the sword. It was too heavy for him, and the upper half of the blade lowered to the ground despite Jackie's best efforts.

"Dad?" He was scared. He didn't want them to leave. He couldn't believe this was happening. But it was.

"Jackie. I'll never leave you. Nor will your mother. We will both be in here. With you." He tapped Jackie's chest.

With a proud smile, he took Jackie's hands, which were still holding the sword. "You're a wonderful son. You wanted to be a pirate someday, didn't you? You've always said you wanted to find El Dorado. So do it. Find it. And not just El Dorado, but all the secrets of the world. Don't waste your life searching for us, Jackie. Spend it on adventure. On freedom. Don't be imprisoned and restricted by anything. You can be free!"

He looked behind him nervously, and stood up. The three strands of blonde hair fell over his left eye once more. "Goodbye, my son." There was one final touch, a last feel of his hand gently brushing his hair. And then his father turned around and ran, rapidly and with urgency.

"Dad. Mommy. DAD! NO! WAIT! DAAAAAD! MOMMYYYY!" He screamed and started to run after his parents, only for the chief to grab onto him. "COME BAAAAACK! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Through his tears, Jackie managed to yell one last sentence before his dad threw himself into the rowboat.

"I...I don't want to leave you!"