The Admiral’s Blood - Chapter Six
“I would suggest you thought on that before upsetting the balance between life and death. Experience tends to teach a man there are consequences.” Ian replied, a hard edge scraping at his voice with a hint of smugness that stemmed from certainty. He sounded virtually the same as how he was before he died, but something about his demeanour seemed more as a man who has been tainted by the darkness of the world. He had definitely lost his slightly unhinged sense of humour. Mr.Gibbs stammered over his words, before quickly snapping his head around to face Calypso. “And why would we need…him!! Them!!” Calypso’s smile widened ever so slightly, clearly taking just as much enjoyment in the pirates’ heavily unpleasant surprise as Beckett and Mercer seemed to. “You may have had a dark past, however, they will be needed. Davy Jones is frightened of Lord Beckett-“
Ian’s face fell slightly at that name. Davy Jones. A name that plagued his mind with terrible visions of his gruesome death. He despised Jones, but just sometimes, in the locker, when he was just alone, contemplating his life choices and memories, he would suggest to himself that he perhaps deserved it. All he wanted was to be loyal to his closest friend, Lord Beckett. Well…his only friend, really. No one really spoke to him just to chat, but the again, perhaps he deserved it for being so cold. However, he also feels as though what he did was also quite wrong. As if he is just as bad as his enemies. The narrative is a matter of perspective.
“-and he has all the intellect that you will need. And Mercer, is the most loyal within this room. He shall be your brawn as well as your guardian.” Calypso continued.
“What exactly makes you think that we will work with them without someone betraying the group?” William snapped. Beckett turned to Mercer as if to say; ‘look who’s talking’, and a slight twitch could be spotted in the corner of Mercer’s mouth for the ones who watched him carefully enough.
“Oh, you have not met everyone yet. There is still one more…” Calypso began.
“Who? Another man we once knew?” Elizabeth replied, her voice laced with dread. Calypso stifled a cackle at that. “Depends on how you look at it, Mrs Turner.”
With that, Calypso strode over to a nearby dusty window. “Come,” She beckoned.
As everyone gathered around the window, Mercer used his handkerchief to wipe the glass, and a few feet away from the tavern was a young man, twenty-three at oldest, on horseback. Despite his neutral expression, he seemed as though he could illuminate a room with a flash of what perhaps would be quite a boyish smile. His hair was thick and well-kept, curly deep brown locks that seemed to sway lightly in the breeze, making him seem as peaceful as a perfectly carved cherub. His soft skin was fair with a brush of soft pink in his cheeks, a subtle touch to his youthful face. He dressed modestly with desaturated shades of green and grey which perfectly contrasted with the bright energy that seemed to radiate from his soul. His clothing seemed very much similar to Lord Beckett’s, formal and respectful but not pompous. They all seemed almost mesmerised by him, completely unaware that they were staring until he looked up at them with his kindly, dazzling green eyes. In that moment, they noticed two things. Firstly, how his eyes seemed to sparkle mischievously when he smiled, implying that there was more about him than what they all knew so far. Secondly, he looked uncannily familiar.