Cove of Shadows ━━ Will Turner

𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 ━━ Psychic Dilemma

THINKING TO END UP WHERE SHE THOUGHT; quite the opposite happened to her. As diligently advised by the Commodore, who had been offered a hug for all his service and devotion. She was in the most utter desolation to act like this, to act like her mother, but all this allowed her to understand everything. To understand her. People commit evil and thoughtless acts. Freedom is unique to everyone. Each being in this world can set its conditions up to its limits. Under the yoke of his captivity, the human only procrastinates. One is free to do wrong of course, or at least to perform all the acts that lead one so far. Free, since nothing prevents one from doing so, because even a text; the most powerful words cannot stop an arm from moving or a tongue from turning. One is free to do wrong but we are only free by doing wrong. It is a succession of actions, thoughts and images that bring us to the result. Not everything happens at the same time. It is therefore as if the more one were free, the more this concept would be taken away from them, for lack of excess. So where to stop? How to know where the door of evil is, and how not to cross it?

She had joined the ship with the red sails, hoping that she would arrive safely. Instead, as soon as she boarded, an evil crab claw came and grabbed her body. Fear itself suffused her being as she encountered what appeared to be Davy Jones. Having been there for a good part of the adventure at sea, she did not know the depths. She had seen it during the battles, but from a distance, like an inexorably insignificant dust, as if thinking: "I'll deal with that later, you don't have worry about it right now." And she was right, until now.

The crab-like man stared cruelly at the young girl, who was not at the end of her troubles.

"What do you want from me, you have your heart in your possession, don't you?"

"But I still have someone to eliminate. You can help me."

While Will and Jack were still talking, the young man was starting to like him more and more. Seeing his essence just as Asteria did, he managed to resent him less. The more time passed, the more Jack confided, more human than ever.

"Do you know how I became a pirate?" Jack demanded.

Will frowned: he had never asked himself that question. He had never wondered if this rank had been assigned to him by choice. He had hardly thought about the past of this man who, no doubt, had tried to hide behind so much humility.

The boy nodded, eager to know the answer.

Jack pouted sympathetically, and pulled a tearful face. It's been a long time – no, actually. He had never told this story.

Taking a breath that had seemed trapped in his resilient body, he began:

"I was thirteen. They put me in the holds of an English boat, yes, I come from the same country as you, my friend."

Will knew that this dose of sarcasm was no longer a joke but a way to show his flaws. Jack looked almost like a devastated clown, watching his makeup drip off in front of the mirror as the crowds roar cheering him on. The young man would not have suspected Jack of coming from England. He, who seemed so comfortable here, in the Caribbean, seemed to come from there in every way.

"So I was on board this ship... this terrible ship. I was put in charge of it, until I figured out what was going on."

"What was he carrying?"

Jack stared out at the ocean, memories flashing through his mind.

"Men."

Will's lips parted, surprised at the discovery. A question burned his lips, while the rapprochements were established.

"How many men?"

"A good hundred."

So that was it. Such a prize as Jones meant so much to him. Because a hundred or five hundred, that didn't make the difference. Will knew that this precise number was not trivial.