Stories Spun by Scenes

The Key and the Coin of Immortality

The Siren’s Warrior tore through the white capped angry waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The sky above was coated in the shades of black agitated blankets, streaking down rain and hail to match the ferocious roaring of thunder.  Electric fields of white and overwhelmingly bright light streaked from the sky, striking the water in random concentrated spots of lightning. The horrid attitude of the weather in turn was causing the sea to catch the personality, crashing and creating waves with a monstrous height.

“Cade!” a voice boomed from the young boy’s right; the boy who was looming on the plank of the ship, and gazed out into the disastrous feuding elements. “Back to work, boy! The storm’s worsening and we need you down below!”

“Yessir!” the boy agreed, cautiously moving away from the edge of the large wooden ship that belonged to The Pirates. He was the cook’s assistant, Cade was. He despised the pirates and their cruel acts; however The Pirates were not as bad as some others Cade has had to deal with. And his job now as a cook’s assistant wasn’t as bad as ones he had dealt with in the past. Such as deck boy, or barnacle scrubber.

“C-a-a-a-a-a-de!”  the cook hollered from down below. Cade was coming, he was, he was just a little distracted. The storm was raging even more vicious now, and oddly Cade wanted to be above on the top deck to be a part of it, not down below in the rank kitchen. “You better be down here in less than a minute or I’ll-“

Cade ran. He knew what finished the cook’s sentence, he knew what the Cook would do if he didn’t hurry. He wanted the storm, but he wanted even more not to endure the cook’s punishment.

But when Cade sauntered into the Kitchen, it was not simply the Cook waiting for him, but the Captain. He stood a tall six foot, decked in expensive jewelry and clothes. He did not, however, have a peg leg or an eye patch, different from the typical stereotype of Captains these days. But you knew from his demeanor he was not to be trifled with, he had a fire beneath his coal black eyes consistently burning with fury. He carried a long silver pointed sword by his side, and within his robes he held a sheath of various knives. He was muscled but lean, with a strong jaw and thin lips that never smiled. A condescending look matched with rage and violence.

“Why, Cade, what took you so long?” the Captain asked the cook’s assistant, staring at him with a hard glare.

“T-the storm, S-sir…I was watching the s-storm…” he stuttered, becoming increasingly nervous. He had never met the captain before, only heard the horror stories of the crew. The captain never showed up unless in battle or in something serious, usually remaining in his quarters doing whatever pirate captains do.

“It is a bad one, isn’t it, boy?” the captain said, never leaving contact with his victim.

“Y-yes sir…it is…”

“Shame if you were to fall off, as you were about to do leaning over that plank. I imagine the waters are ten times more vicious on a Hellish day as today.”

“Yes, sir…”

“Well, I’ll get to the point. I don’t have much time to waste, and I’d like to get this over with,” the Captain smiled a missing toothed grin, leaning forward so the boy and captain were eye to eye. “The key…” the captain breathed, drawing the six letters out to emphasize its importance.

“What?” he asked, although he knew. He knew what the key was referring to. He knew where it was. The key to The Pirate’s chest that they had stolen just the past seven turns of the sun. There had been a battle between The Pirates and some other ship whose name everyone hadn’t paid attention to before. It was a battle for the treasure chest, but the treasure was for more great than any riches, than any jewels the Earth has to offer. Inside the chest was rumored to hold the coin to eternal life. Although no one really knew what powers the coin and key might hold.

In the massacre of the fight, the boy had retrieved the key, opened the chest, stolen the coin, closed it back, and walked away still holding the possession of both the key and the immortal coin. No one expected a thing, The Pirates just thought they had lost the key somewhere in the ocean and so were retracing their path in search of it in the treacherous waters.

“The key, my boy, you robber,” the Captain stated, unknowing that the boy had the coin as well. “Perhaps if you hand it over your life will be spared.” The captain raised an inquiring eye brow.

“I don’t have it,” the young boy spoke quietly by steadily.

“Empty your pockets then, and the crew is raiding your hammock and bags in the sleeping quarters right now,” the captain smiled his spiteful grin.

The boy shook involuntarily, worried and knowing that what he possessed would be found. So in a split decision, he fled. He had no plan and no objective, just to perhaps stall. He had always been speedy and clever, so he hoped he would hatch a plan along the way. He ran, listening to the Captain’s screams and heavy footsteps as he tried to follow and catch him, yelling attention to the rest of the crew. He made it out into the stormy weather again, but it was even more deadly now. The winds were increased, the boat was swaying like a pendulum, and the air held a distinct stench of fatality.

He tried to run to the edge where his hiding spot within the rails and floorboards were, but just then a major hit of wind caused the ship to lurch and turn almost vertical. The boy lost his footing, slipping, rolling, tumbling, until he dropped into the greedy hands of the salty world below.

He fell deep, and came to the surface gasping for breath. He tried to stay above the water but the waves were too large and raging now, plus the pouring sheets of rain weren’t helping keep the water out of his body. His eyes stung with salt and he was sore from the rolling and beating of the water. The bitter taste of ocean water attacked his throat and tongue, and he kicked furiously to keep himself suspended above the waves. Gulps of water rushed in him though, and the under current tugged him back under. His body was beaten and he felt no motivation to keep trying, no more energy remaining. He let the water do what it wanted, and within seconds his lungs constricted with the lack of oxygen. He felt himself being pulled by the grips of the water, no longer in control of himself. His dreary clothes clung to him, preventing further movement and pinning him down more and more. He reached into his secret pocket of his coat in his last breaths, tugging out the string he had used to hold together the coin of eternal life and the key, wrapping it around his arm to prevent his body to lose it, even as his lungs gave out in his salty water demise.