A-
London was quiet on this cool evening. The sun had just set and the street lanterns were being lit. Hardly anyone was out. A few women looking for some quick coin. Some men rushing to get home to their warm meals and families. All seemed normal. And why shouldn't it have? It wasn't too often that something stir up the city.
In a small alley street there was a door. It was just like every other door in the city. It had a handle, a knocker. A small slot towards the top of it for someone to look through. It was painted a dark green, like so many other doors in the city. A sign hung next to it reading, Tristian & Christian Ship Builders Est 1742.
A lone figure stood outside the ship building office, quietly examining the sign. He waited in the cold dark, shifting his weight from one leg to the other while taping his cane on the ground making a tap tap tap that echoed and bounced around the alley walls and windows.
Soon another noise disrupted the silence. The sound of a carriage ridding on cobblestones was quickly approaching. The figure stepped out of the way as a horse and buggie came into view from around the corner. It stopped in front of the ship builders place. The coachman riding on top did not look any direction but straight, never blinking an eye. He seemed to have practiced that very hard.
The door to the cab opened, a man sliding out soon after. He looked older, maybe in his late fifties. He had a white powdered wig on his head, a black coat covering his frame. He wore a look on his face that looked like he would rather be anywhere in the world but here.
The two men approached each other. They looked at one another for a moment, not saying a word. Finally one spoke out.
“Well, Sharpe, let's get this over with.” Grumbled the man from the carriage. Both he and the man known as Sharpe turned towards the door and knocked three times on it. In no time the door opened. A young, handsome man stood behind it. He looked to be in much better spirits than the other two men.
“Gentlemen,” he said while smiling. “Do come in. We have much to discuss.” He stepped aside and waited while the other two walked inside.
Inside there were no lights lit. Shadows owned the place, making it feel eerie and something out of the supernatural. The two older men followed suit of the younger man until they reached an office room. Quickly a lamp was lit, flooding the room with light and warmth.
“Now,” started the young man. “Where to begin?”
“How about you begin with telling us why were are here Tristian?” The man with wig said. “You send both myself and Sharpe these strange notes telling us you have learned something of value and to meet you here when the sun has set. Well, here we are.”
“Indeed I did send you the notes, Charles, and indeed I learned something of value. In fact something of great value.” Tristian had not stopped smiling since he opened the door. “I will begin with a short history lesson, just so things may seem a bit clearer for you two. Mister Sharpe, I am sure you are already very familiar with this story since it comes from your family. But please do bare with me.”
The man known as Charles looked over at the man called Mr. Sharpe. Both looked equally confused as one another. But Charles looked at Tristian and nodded for him to continue.
“Thank you,” Tristian said. He cleared his throat. “Now, Mr. Sharpe, as you are well aware, your family has passed down a story that dates back to great your grandfather. A story about a ship, known as The Sharp.” Charles snorted. Mr. Sharpe remained silent.
“You must be joking,” said Charles. “The Sharp is a myth, a joke even. No one can even find any proof that the thing exists.” Charles had taken his large coat off now and hung it on a coat stand near the door. He pulled out a pipe and lit it, a dim light illuminating his face every time he breathed in. “You brought us here to recite to us myths and legends of old boats?”
“No sir, not myths or legends.” Countered Tristian. “The Sharp is real, and it is here.” He paused to let his sentence sink in. When no one said anything, he continued. “And I don't mean here in the city. I mean it is here, in this very room with us.”
“I have no time for games, sir.” Charles said impatiently. “I have a meal to return to. Now, if you will excuse me.” He started to grab his coat when Tristian ran and stopped him.
“Charles, please. Hear me out.” Tristian had stopped smiling by this time. “Let me show you. I promise you, the both of you,” he looked over to Mr. Sharpe. “I am not wasting your time.” Charles hesitated for a moment. Then he lowered his arm, and waved on Tristian. “Thank you. Now, the story passed down was about a ship that held an amount of gold and riches that surpassed any mans wildest dreams. But the whereabouts of the boat have been lost to time. Only the Sharpe family knew how to find it. But even now, they too cannot say because that knowledge has been lost to them. Until tonight that is.
“Now, when your father had helped start up this business eight years ago, he only wanted to help finance it. He didn't want anything to do with the business part. Am I correct Mr. Sharpe?” Sharpe nodded. “He searched my father out to run his business.” Tristian started walking around the room, pausing every few steps to help create his dramatic effect.
Tristian knew was about to impress both these men here tonight. He had discovered a secret so great it was going to change their lives and the lives of their families for generations to come.
“When my father took office here, Mr. Sharpe, your father donated a few things. One of which is that model boat sitting right there above the fireplace.” Every looked up at it. Sitting above the fireplace was a large replica of a boat, detailed in such a way that it could have been real if it were large enough. “Now I want the both of you to look at the name of the boat.” Both men walked over to the fireplace and looked closely at the model boat. It read La Net.
“It says La Net.” Said Charles, clearly not impressed still. “A typical name for a vessel of the sea, wouldn't you say?”
“I would, and have thought that for so many years. But, recently I have been working with a French company for long distance business relations. And several times a single word has come up in their letters to me, net. At first I thought it only a reference to a common fishing net, nothing uncommon in the field of work we do here. But soon I realized that that was not at all what they were talking about.”
Charles seemed to have found a bit more interest in where this story was going. Mr. Sharpe was hard to read. His expression seemed blank. He only listened this entire time, not once uttering a word.
“Well,” started Charles. “Tell us. What does net mean?”
“I'm getting to that.” Tristian walked over to Mr. Sharpe. “Do you know what happened to the La Net?” Neither men could answer. “It was a bit of a tragic story actually. The boat was on its way back home when a pirate raid came and burned it. It was sunk near the south Caribbean islands. The La Net was merely a trade vessel. It carried spices, flour, food from foreign areas and brought it back to England.”
“If you are trying to make a point,” said Charles.” Then please make it. We don't have all night.”
“Charles, Mr. Sharpe. As I have said earlier, The Sharp is here in this room with us, right in front of you.”
“This boat is named La Net. How can it be the same ship with two different names?”
“It doesn't have two names, Charles. During my encounters with the French, I learned something that would change everything for me. A single word translated would make all the difference. La Net, in English means The Sharp.”
Charles dropped his pipe. Mr. Sharpe looked over at Tristian, then back to the boat. Tristian was smiling again.
“The ship that sunk was located, but nothing found on it other than its usual cargo. No treasure. Why would pirates raid a trade ship? Something that holds little to no value to them? Because they discovered what I had. But they had the wrong ship. They thought the La Net literally held a large fortune aboard it.” Tristian reached up and brought the model boat down from its stand. He held it closely to his chest, the passed it to Mr. Sharpe.
“So you're trying to tell us that this model boat here holds a vast fortune?” Asked Charles.
“Yes and no. This boat holds the key to finding a vast fortune. I am almost certain that inside it is a message that gives coordinates to a location where the infamous treasure of The Sharp is at. But we must be careful when-”
Charles suddenly smashed the boat over the table. Bits of wood went everywhere. Tristian turned on Charles.
“What are you thinking man? The message could have been engraved on the wood for all we know? And now its all shattered across the table.”
Mr. Sharpe reached into the pile of wreckage, then brought his hand out, holding a small rolled piece of paper. Both Charles and Tristian had their eyes locked onto the paper. A sense of high excitement filled the room now. Mr. Sharpe opened the paper and read, his little eyes darting back and forth as he took in the words. Then, with a wide smile on his face, he spoke, for the first time since he had arrived at the office.
“Gentlemen, let us take to the sea.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
S-
"We shouldn't be here!" Ryan yelled, hoping his voice would be loud enough to hear through the roaring wind.
"Will be fine!" Jason said back. "We are almost there!" The snow was up to their knees and surrounded them from every side as far as the eye could see. Ryan hugged himself tightly in attempt to keep himself warm. The chill air was almost unbearable. He looked back for a moment.
"Jason, I can't even see camp anymore!"
"I said don't worry!" Jason hollered.
He stopped and looked at the ground then started spinning in confusion. "Oh no, where is it!?"
"Where is what?" Ryan asked.
"The entrance! I found a hole in the ground around here." Jason went down on his knees and started digging.
"This is ridiculous!! I'm going back to camp!"
Ryan turned around and began heading back until he heard a loud crack, then stopped dead in his tracks. The ground below them shifted. The boys looked at each other. Fear filled them both.
"Don't move!" Jason yelled "Get down slowly on your knees now!" Ryan was so scared, tears were leaving his eyes though the wind instantly froze them. He was able to get to his knees and slowly began to crawl. "Everything will be alright, I'm right behind..." The ice beneath Jason cracked and opened, he then fell into the darkness screaming.
"Jason!!" Ryan began to hyperventilate. The ground was collapsing and all he could do was brace himself for the unknown. Then he fell screaming at the top of his lungs into the abyss.
* * *
"Ryan? Ryan? Hey Ryan, wake up!" Jason shook Ryan, begging for him to open his eyes. After a while Ryan began to move, moaning from the event that had just happened.
"Where are we?" He finally asked.
"Under the ice." Jason replied. The boys looked up at the ceiling of ice. The sun lit up the room through the ice but not enough to melt it. "We must have slid over here." He pointed to the mountain of snow behind them.
"What now?" Ryan asked still scared of what had happened.
"I guess we go forward." Jason helped Ryan up and trekked onward. "We might even find what I wanted to show you in the first place." He smiled. Ryan filled up with rage.
"Are you kidding me!? We almost got killed!!" His voice echoed through the cavern. A couple of icicles fell a few feet away from them.
"Shhh! Not so loud or else we really will end up dead." Jason put his finger to his mouth. Ryan took a deep breath to calm down.
"Fine, let's go." The two boys headed to the nearest tunnel and walk through.
* * *
After walking for thirty minutes Jason stopped. "Wait a minute... I know where we are!" A big smile grew on his face and then began to run. "Jason, wait!" Ryan went after him and after a minute he could see Jason stopped. As soon as he reached him he put his hands on his knees and looked down from being out of breath.
"What the heck, man?(huff huff)" When Ryan looked up his jaw dropped. Before him was a magnificent ship from around the eighteenth century. It was stuck, frozen in the ice. It sparkled blue from the frosted ice that coated it.
"That's amazing!" Ryan said, his eyes were big from the spectacle.
"Isn't it? I think it was a pirate ship. But I can't find a way in." Jason said.
They went closer to the ship. "Must have been a crazy storm that went through. Look at the Icicle spikes covering the whole thing, it's almost unreal."
"Yeah all of them are sharp to the touch." Ryan looked around for a bit and noticed a small ledge near the back of the boat. "Let's try that." He pointed. They headed over to the legend help each other up. They saw they were only three feet away from the captain's cabin deck.
"It's perfect!" Jason exclaimed and without a second thought jumped over to the ice covered deck and slipped onto his bottom. Ryan laughed. "Shut up and get over here." Jason yelled turning red from anger and embarrassment. Ryan stop laughing as soon as he realized he had to jump too and sure enough when he jumped, he fell on his bottom. Tears began to swell up from the stinging pain.
"Cry baby, come on let's go in." Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife and began chiseling the crack in between the door until the door opened and the boys went in.
"Whoa... " Both boys said in unison. A thin layer of frost was covering everything in sight. Ryan walked next the chair to the desk.
"Look at this I think it's a journal..."
"Ryan!..." Jason's voice trembled. Ryan looked at him on the other side of the chair. He looked pale as a ghost, his eyes looking at the chair. Ryan then looked as well. He saw a man sitting there. He screamed and fell back.
"I... I think he's dead!" Jason said. The man was almost blue from the cold, his eyes were shut and look like he was just sleeping. "He must have died from the cold." He wore a thick coat and a tricorn hat with a long feather. "I bet he was the captain. Look he was writing something." Jason noticed a quill in the dead man's hand. He began reading out loud.
"'We have done it, we have taken the Sun's Tear. With this, I will be the richest man on the Seven Seas.' Hey, this really might be a pirate ship!" Jason's voice sounded excited. Ryan got up and looked around the cabin. "Sun's Tear?..." He said to himself, he remembered stories as a little boy of how to endless cold was because the Sun Goddess could no longer show her love and left the land to freeze. Jason continued reading.
"'A mighty storm is upon us, we know we have disturbed the forces of greater power and now this is our punishment, but it's mine, it's all mine and they will never get it back so long as it stays in my hand.' Ryan... you don't think this endless winter is because of him do you?" Jason asked. Ryan thought hard for a few seconds.
"I'm not sure." He answered. He walked over to the pirate captain and noticed the dead man clutching something in his hand. Ryan took a deep breath then grabbed the frozen hand.
"What are you doing?!" Jason exclaimed.
"I'm just checking something." He managed to loosen the grip and pull out a small vial containing a shining gold liquid.
"Is that?..." Jason stopped.
"Yup, I think this is the Sun's Tear."
"Look at it, it's not even frozen. Even gold would have hardened."
Ryan stared closely at it, deep in thought then looked at Jason smiling.
"I think you're right."
"Right about what?" Jason was puzzled.
"I think he is the reason for all this winter. Follow me." Ryan booked it out of the cabin to the main deck with the vial in hand. It too was a sheet of ice but the two boys slid to the front of the ship. Ryan popped the cork off the tiny vial and leaned over the edge trying his best to avoid the sharp icicles.
"Are you crazy!? What are you doing?!" Jason was concerned as well as confused.
"Ending winter!" Ryan chucked and began pouring the golden liquid on to the ice below.
Everything started to shake, a pool of water formed where the tear made contact but it didn't stop. Soon everything began to melt. Chunks of ice were falling from above. Fearing for their lives the boys had run back into the cabin. The ship started rocking madly and the boys did their best to hide under the desk to avoid the falling objects all around them.
They stayed there for what seemed like an hour before things settled down. Carefully they made their way to the doorway. Jason slowly opened the door when suddenly a beam of light shot through the opening. He continued to open the door revealing the shining sun.
"Oh my gosh." Ryan walked out to the deck so after Jason. They couldn't believe their eyes. The sun was bright, the sea was clear, and the warm wind brushed against their faces.
They could see the nearby shore where their friends and family were safe. Jason ran to edge of the ship, waving and laughing. He looked back to Ryan and asked,
"This is amazing! Is this what Spring is like?" Ryan walked to his side and put his arm over Jason's shoulder.
"I believe it is, Jason." Ryan replied. They took off their thick wintery coats and took in the warmth of the sun and for just a moment Ryan thought he heard a "thank you" from above. He looked up and smiled.
"You're welcome."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
K-
Acutus, the ship's name was barely visible on the shards of wreckage they had hauled from the sea. Cal fingered the faded gilt words with a gloved hand. Memories of 25 years ago flooded his mind.
Bare feet pounded on the hot wood deck. Cannons fired loudly, sending shards of practically everything flying. Cal and Shia crouched behind the mast, trying to avoid the pirates and soldiers.
"There you are!" A voice behind them whispers.
Cal jumps, and sees that it's the man who had been protecting them.
"Where have you been?" Shia hissed
"Not important. Just stay down."
Feeling rather surreal as he examined the empty hulk of what used to be a ship, Cal carefully touched the deep scratches made by swords.
"You alright Cal?" A coworker called.
"Yeah. Just trying to envision the kind of battle that sank the ship." He replied.
"Probably was a big high seas battle with the British navy."
"Probably," Cal said.
He knew that the soldiers that he had seen wore no recognizable colors. The pirates... Well, pirates like that hadn't been seen for over 100 years.
"Who are you?" The captain held his cutlas at an angle. "Pirate stowaways?"
"Ah, no," Jay replied. "We be simple island folk that got caught up in this awful battle."
"Well the battle's over and you're still here."
"Yes, but at first chance I intend to get these young fish back home." He indicated Cal and Shia.
The captain stared at him for a moment. He flicked his cutlas foreword, cutting back Jay's sleeve. Revealed on the underside of his wrist was a tattoo of a ship's anchor. Jay closed his eyes tiredly.
"I thought you were a pirate." The captain said to himself.
"Sir, he may be a pirate, but he helped us get away." Cal pipped up. "We really are from that island and we just want to get back."
"Be that as it may," the man replied. "This man is one of the deadliest pirates out there. And I will deal with him accordingly."
"Now, captain, since I've been a gentleman to you and these fine young kids," Jay started politely. "Might you grant me one favor and let me duel for my honor?"
"Cal, what do we do if he looses?" Shia asked. "I don't think these soldiers will take us home just because we ask."
"Don't worry," the boy replied. "If he looses, I'll take care of us."
She gave him a look that said; that's sweet but the soldiers will just laugh.
The captain and Jay stood opposite each other with the crew surrounding them. They drew their swords and pointed them down.
"To the death?" The captain asked.
"No. To the fall." Jay replied. "Stakes?"
"I win, you let us off at the next port," he said. "You win, you do what you want with me and let the children go."
"Acceptable." The captain nodded.
They brought the tips of their swords up.
Cal stood amid the shards of the deck and watched his memories of a sword fight dance.
Both the captain and Jay seemed to be expert swordsmen. To the untrained eye, the pirate seemed to be the lesser swordsman. The captain could almost sense the precise faking of movement. Angry that he wasn't getting a fair fight, he swung hard and his sword caught Jay's shirt, tearing it open.
There was a collective gasp. A bright blue tattoo of a bird soared across his chest. The captain paused and stared in horror at him.
"You're the SkyJay?" He asked incredulously.
"Why did you have to say me name?" Jay groaned.
The once clear sky in the east had rapidly grown dark clouds.
"What's happening, what is that?" The captain asked, pointing at the gathering storm.
"That is captain Ruffalo coming for me." The pirate said. "I'm sorry by the way."
"For what?"
"For what he's going to do."
Cal rubbed his face as he remembered the first bolt of lightning that struck the ship. He honestly couldn't remember how any of them had survived. The ship had been torn to shreds yet Jay, Shia, himself and most of the captain made it onto the pirate king's ship. By most if the captain, he was missing a leg and had a lot of scratches.
"Welcome back SkyJay," the tall dark haired pirate smirked down at them. "Who's your friends?"
