Cove of Shadows ━━ Will Turner

𝐕 ━━ Unexpected Alloy

"LET'S GET ON BOARD,"
Jack suggested.

"I beg your pardon?" Will asked, the formal manner having left his mind. To hell with the conventional with this dishonest pirate.

However, it is one of the leads that could lead him to Asteria. He was convinced that the navy was already looking for her, without any clues, heading towards their own destruction.

What if she was lost? Dead? Hurt? We were only looking for her presence without taking into account the mental state of the latter.

"Let's go, my friend. Let's look for your damsel while I languish on my Black Pearl."

Will, having already thought wisely, shook the hand to his new companion, accepting the deal.

"Deal", but Asteria was neither a commercial proposition, nor even less a junk bauble.

"Aye, little precautionary question, friend, this girl; how far are you willing to go to save her?"

"I would die for her."

"Oh! Good," laughed Jack.

The two men easily found a suitable vessel, which would never rival the comforts of the renowned pirate's Pearl. Finding a boat was an easy task, stealing it was another. But that was the thug's area of ​​expertise.

Without making any noise, Jack found a scheme that Will had to comply with. Against the hull of a small upturned junk, they swam, their heads in the air at the bottom of the ocean – paradoxical. Even simpler than expected.

"Either it's genius or it's madness!" Will exclaimed, his voice echoing like a vaguely electronic noise, the only space apart from the water being the air bubble they had created thanks to the space of the junk. A new first-cry submarine!

"The strangest thing is that most of the time it's both," Jack offered, accustomed to his plans that they didn't find them to be ingenious or unbelievable.

He didn't consider himself for much.

They arrived at the height of the building and climbed it. With the population mostly still asleep, no one noticed the ship beginning to rock.

Will inspected the ship's condition, foreseeing as always. Being on a ship seemed to remind him of something he could get his hands on. He knew his desire to sail, like Asteria's, they said.

He missed his father, a faithful sailor, terribly. He couldn't admit it to himself but; he sought out Asteria as much as his father.

Everything was in order. The mast, the sails, and the whole junk. There were barrels of salted fish, fruit, flour and water, indicating the profession of his predecessors. Rummaging through the holds, Will found himself well equipped. Coils of rope, rigging, stakes of twine were lined up, as if waiting to be collected.

The sails flapped and rustled, the mast creaked, and the young man knew that Jack was sending the ship away. Bare feet thumping against the deck, Jack wiggled at the sound of the anchor, the salt spray hitting the deck. The cawing of the seagulls gave him reason to leave. Damn sparrows, he thought to himself.

Smelling his body odor, a mixture of salt, brine, rum and fish, Jack frowned. It was time to take care of its cleanliness.

William was in charge of maintaining the ship, and this role was well assigned; Jack didn't know how to take care of himself. The sun overhead ignited the lash marks on Will's back as he cleaned the stairwell.

His muscles quivered with each stroke of the brush, a tender reminder to use his arms to work, like at the forge. He worked hard for what he wanted and carried it out vehemently. Nevertheless, rope burns and sunburns were painful. Squatting on his knees, the boards were hard under his feet, as if to remind him of the consequences of his choices.