So … This is the Oracle's Prophecy revisited. I'm re-issuing the fic to fix any errors and to make it more congruent with the new movie as well. Mostly adding Beckett's name in that one chapter … and to re-acquaint myself with my work so I may finish my triquel. So … I hope you enjoy the re-release. Not much will change … spelling, grammar … other typos. Weee! Here it is … mostly original.
ALSO! This is the second time I've posted this online. Fanfic goes through a reformatting deal or something and certain symbols I use to break up a chapter into separate locations get looked over and don't show up. Rather than have my work look like a run on idea, I'd rather get the proper borders in there. Unfortunately, I had to delete all of the reviews as well, but there were several and all were positive.
Damn. There sure are a lot of people that have decided to write off Pirates. I wasn't going to jump on their so called "band wagon" but this idea came to me at an Angel game when my friends were talking about the movie. So, as a favor to my friends, I will take you, the readers, on yet another pirate's journey.
First comes the disclaimer. Of course I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. I don't own Geoffrey Rush. I don't own Keira Knightly. I don't own Orlando Bloom! I don't own the Black Pearl or any of the crew that appears in the movie. And I certainly don't own the wonderful . . . the magnificent . . . the effanineffable . . .drum roll ([Maxwell] Jack throws something at trio of snares. "I'm not done yet!" . . . The undeniably genius . . . not to mention the hottest . . . (lead snare starts tapping some complicated rhythm involving loud rim shots and some weird thing I think are called triples. "Knock that shit off!" Jack shouts) . . . the strongest, blah-blah- blah-blah drum roll Johnny Depp! I mean, I wish I owned him but unfortunately, that just won't happen. (runs off sobbing) (Yeah, how 'bout not.)
Second comes the dedications. I dedicate this story to Robin Skiles and Elizabeth Talbott (and Liz's dad) To Robin, for her birthday, to Liz, 'cause she's my best friend, and to her dad because he got me a free Angel's ticket.
Third; If you don't like details, length, or bad words and adult situations, then this story is not entirely for you. If you love a good adventure, go ahead and read. Also, flamers; Before you send something that is potentially on fire, please keep your verbal abuse to gentle criticism and even then, don't do so until you can do better (just one of my personal rules) and if you can do better than this (not to be conceited) you'd better tell me what big author you are.
Okay, now off to what you've been waiting (or not waiting) for.
Pirates of the Caribbean; The Oracle's Prophecy
Prologue – What Blood Undone?
A chill wind swirled audibly and almost visibly about the mouth of a sinister cave, the darkness of the night interrupted in places by a clean slice of pure moonlight wafting from the distant sky, clouds obscuring the face of the lunar body intermittently. The sound of waves lapping a tad roughly against the looming rocks that made up most of Isla de Muerta along with the whispering wind were the only sounds to be heard if one were around to hear them. Inside the cave, there came a rather contrast chattering, a vaguely cheerful sound not at all like the gloomy environment.
Barbossa, his body as cold as the water and treasure around him, stared lifelessly at the ceiling of the cave. A splash of moonlight illuminated his human face. Jack the monkey perched upon his chest, tossing the small coin back and forth, prattling animatedly to himself. His big black eyes reflected the moonlight and his skeletal appearance would have frightened the unaware.
The water lapped gently against the rocks but there was an unnatural rippling to it, as if something were creating a disturbance. Simian Jack perked his head up to look into the darkness. A man's upper body could be seen jutting above the surface, his reflection lost in the ripples. The little monkey screeched loudly and hit his master's chest, attempting to wake the dead man. The figure in the water waded to the rock and pulled himself up. The undead monkey was screaming so shrilly that dust fell slowly from the ledges above, creating a slight haze.
The new man glanced at the frightened animal and smirked. He reached forward and Jack scampered back a few feet, flitting in and out of the moonlight.
The man laughed and said in a rough voice, "He's dead you know. I don't think he cares much about this place."
Jack continued to screech and the man laughed again. He began to speak to the small primate as one would to a sentient being.
"You ask how I got here? How I came by the location of Isla de Muerta? Well, I think the fact that this place can only be found by those who know where it is excludes me for one simple reason. I too, cannot die. I had as long as I wanted to search for it."
The monkey had silenced himself as if to listen. He cocked his head to the left in curiosity, biting his decomposed lip absently. The man stood, sending Jack running even farther. He laughed again and made his way to the cursèd treasure of Cortez. He pulled out one of the pieces and examined it carefully. He then pocketed it and stuck his arm into one of the many shafts of moonlight around the cave. His white flesh did not become skeletal or dry. It remained the same, reflecting the pale light to an ethereal quality.
"I guess you can't curse those already cursed," he said to Jack. He took the gold out of his pocket and threw it as hard as he was capable against a rock wall. The gold went through the granite with a loud crack, creating a dark hole rung with jagged edges.
He looked at the wall with some interest but shrugged it off. It wasn't the first time he'd done something like that. He turned his attention back to Jack who had run to hide behind one of the mountains of treasure.
"Don't worry," he told the little creature. "You'll have your master back soon enough." He swept back his unruly brown hair and moved to the cold corpse of Barbossa. He put a strong hand to the open shirt of Barbossa and dragged him up toward the top of the mountain of treasure.
"I've never tried this before," he said to the corpse. "So I hope you'll forgive me if it doesn't work." He took a knife from Barbossa's belt and slit his own wrist in one sharp slash.
A few moments later, a sputtering scream could be heard from the shore around the island. Added to these screams were the screeches of a monkey.
Miles away, Elizabeth Swann Turner sat up in bed breathing hard and trembling, her hand hovering around the small of her throat. Her skin was covering in a light dew of sweat from a dream she'd had.
Jack Sparrow, excuse me, Captain Jack Sparrow … staggered into the Faithful Bride in Tortuga, bent on getting even more drunk than he already was presently. His companion, Joshamee Gibbs, now Bos'un of The Black Pearl, was looking around as if he were being followed by someone.
"Som'mat's amiss, I say," he whispered nervously for the hundredth time that night. "The air don't feel right ta me."
"That's only because we keep coming across those privateer wrecks," Jack answered him, pushing open the door of the tavern. "Something other than us is out there gobbling up the privateers. Not that I'm complaining … those bloody pirates for rent would try for me ship if they could catch it, but that's that much booty we aren't getting."
"Do you think it could be him?" Gibbs asked timidly. It was clear by Jack's expression that he knew to whom Gibbs was referring as 'him'.
"I shot him," Jack answered with finality. "He's dead." And that was the end of the conversation. Barbossa had had his time and now it was over.
A beautiful brunette came up to the table the two men had seated themselves at and smiled. Her breasts were offered up like ripe fruits, just barely held back from escape in the lavender dress she wore. Jack smiled back and began to order. She smiled sweetly and delivered a smack so loud some of the men near the bar swiveled in their stools to watch.
"Three years?" she shrieked. "Three years?" she ran off, leaving a bewildered Jack and a laughing Gibbs.
"What was that about, Cap'n?" he asked, still laughing a bit.
"I think I remember her now," Jack answered a bit distractedly. They ordered two pints and they sat back down, their mugs frothy from the contents.
"Why'd we come here again?" Gibbs asked after drinking half of his mug.
"We need to restock the cargo. Food, water, necessity? Or would you rather us continue to sail without provisions?" Jack gave him a dark look. There was a raucous brawl going on behind him but he seemed to take no notice of it. He threw back his head, his matted black hair falling wildly over the back of his chair as he chugged down the last of his drink. When he slammed the mug back down, there was an old gypsy like woman seated at their table. Her hair may have been black or brown or … who knew. It was matted and filthy and her smile was less than white, or rather more.
"Who are you?" Gibbs asked loudly, forgetting decorum in spit of his surprise.
She looked at him and rasped in a voice full of sorrow. "I am de Oracle ob Tortuga! Tru horrible visions I hab come to seek de one who lead De Black Pearl."
"That'd be me," Jack whispered proudly. He was extremely happy to have his ship and title back.
She gazed at him with red-rimmed eyes and a frightened look upon her face. She held out her hands and passed her palms within an inch of his dark face. She shrieked and covered her own face. "Jour piracy will lead to jour deat'!" Her speech was strange but understandable.
Jack smirked. "That's the idea. Wouldn't want to disappoint anyone by dying of natural causes." His gold teeth glinted in the dim tavern. The woman shook horribly. She reached out and grasped his weather beaten hands in her own spindly fingers.
"De leader ob de singin' women! A ring wit de emblem ob jour trade, glowin' red eyes! De leader is de key! The key to jour heir! She will lead jou to jour heir before jour deat'!"
"What in the blazes is she speakin' of, cap'n?" Gibbs asked frantically. Jack remained silent, his dark eyes glued to the old woman. Gibbs began to speak again but Jack hushed him.
"Let her continue." He growled.
"An evil enemy, pale white," she gasped. "Golden treasure in a cave, a monkey, an apple. Dere be a blood soaked spot near de base ob a golden mountain. Teet', gleamin'."
Jack looked calm but he also looked like he believed the old wench. "Strange eyes, de clan has!"
"Would you listen to her jabber," Gibbs cursed. "She's mad."
"Dere, in de cave ob Isla de Muerta, de blood undone, spilt upon de gold, creates a hole in time! It is dere jou must go to begin de search for jour heir!" She released Jack's hands and convulsed. Blood spewed from her mouth and she collapsed to the floor. Jack and Gibbs stood quickly and the woman continued to shriek and convulse.
"Call a doctor, get her some help!" Gibbs ordered to the crowd. "She may be dying!"
"Jus' leave 'er dere," an old toothless man told him. "She be foin in a day o' so. Jus' a craz' ole wench."
The rest of the pub refused to listen to Jack and went back to their drinks and meals. Jack knelt beside the old woman and grasped one of her hands. "Tell me, old woman. What is blood undone?"
"Blood . . . undone . . ." she gasped. "Blood . . . undead! Life!" she shut down, her eyes closing and her putrid mouth slamming shut. Jack stood, moving away from the woman. He looked around the pub and turned to Gibbs. A jerk of his head and the two men were on their way to the door.
"Hoy, men," someone called. "Ain't ye gonna take whot she's holdin' out to ya?" They turned back and Jack stepped forward, taking a slip of paper from the woman's outstretched hand. He didn't open it there. Instead, he motioned Gibbs outside.
"What was it, sir?" Gibbs asked as Jack power-walked away from the tavern. The captain gave him the same dark look he'd given him within and stopped near an old church. He took out the slip of paper and unfolded it.
They both looked at it for a while. Jack smiled and Gibbs shrugged. It was a hand painted picture of a ring. On the ring was the face of a skull with bright red eyes. It meant nothing to them though Jack did remember the old woman saying something about a ring "bearing the emblem of your trade!"
They returned to the Pearl and Jack closed himself inside his cabin. He looked closely at the picture and thought about what the woman had said. It was the first time he realized he needed to find an heir, any heir. He knew a pirate was only expected to live so long, though he wasn't as old as most of his crew. He expected to live for at least seventy more years, well maybe sixty.
"I'm not going to die yet!" he exclaimed to himself. "Just the same, maybe a trip to the island isn't such a bad idea." He stood from his old bed and strode to the door. Throwing it open, he smiled frighteningly and announced to the crew.
"Prepare yourselves, men," he shouted, waving a hand. Anamaria glared up at him, and he added as an afterthought. "And woman. For tomorrow we sail once again to Isla de Muerta to find my … er … something or other." He wasn't about to reveal his thoughts to the world, or even his crew.
"He believed that codswallop?" Gibbs gasped down below. "I can't trust it!" Luckily, Jack couldn't hear him from his perch above the crew who were still mostly on the gangway and bow of the ship.
"I warn you all that the treasure of Cortez is still cursed," he said direly. "Not that you need reminding after you all saw Barbossa and his crew." Several of the crew jeered loudly. A few of them had actually been Barbossa's men but had switched over after the battle. These few men nodded emphatically.
"And so tonight I ask you not to bring anyone aboard, men," this time Anamaria didn't glare. She never brought anyone aboard. A few of the men groaned because they hadn't been to land in such a long time and were aching for a woman.
"If it pains you that much," Jack lamented with a sneer. "Go ashore tonight and lose yourselves amongst the comforts of Tortuga's finest." He turned and re-entered his cabin while his crew laughed amongst themselves.
He sat at the table within his cabin and uncorked a bottle, thinking silently to himself. They would have to cross busy shipping lanes and the British Navy was everywhere. They were at war in what was being called the Second War of the Austrian Succession. The year was 1758 and England had allied with Prussia two years before. It was said that King George II only wanted to protect Hanover, one of the German provinces near Prussia from where he hailed.
In any case, Great Britain, with it's nigh unstoppable Naval power and Prussia with its fabulous and highly efficient land troops stood a good chance against the other nations. France was a main contender so far, and Austria and Saxony were making quite the noise. Russia and Sweden were also putting in their numbers and it was said that Spain would join the battle for them as well.
The only other nation that seemed eager to aid Prussia and England was Portugal, with her penchant for trade, but with the power they had, even though the numbers were stacked, they wouldn't be too far behind. After all, it was only one year after the Battle of Palashi in India where the British East India Trading Company pretty much insured their hold on the control that would become known as the 'jewel in the imperial crown'. In other words, considering the population of India, England would have no shortage of troops and they felt no qualms in impressing men into their crews.
Of course, they were having a few problems concerning the actual ruling of India. Mir Jafar, a man that had been bought to not attack by the British EITC had been placed as head of the country, but he wasn't liking being controlled by the crown and was making trouble … nothing compared to the war of course. He was manageable, even if he had a tendency to revolt every once in a while.
Jack sighed and swigged his rum, content for the moment. None of the British Navy could catch him anyway, even if they were out in force. The Company had a slightly better chance of catching him, but once they did, most of their ships lacked the force needed to put him down. He wasn't worried in the least.
Re-released on 7-29-06 (Pg 7) (Pg 4 with unhindered formatting.)