Ocean's Eyes

Sails billowed and boards creaked, the captain moved steadily with his ship. Never stumbling, or making mistakes. His ship was now a part of him, the boundless sea was his home and his only commitments were to himself and his ship. He had been through famines, storms and countless duels, but after all that he still lived. Surrounded by a loyal crew he was to embark on one of his most foolish and greatest adventures yet, the search for the lost treasure of Atlantis. Tales of old had told of a city that was filled with inestimable wealth and their technological advances were envied by all. The royal treasury was said to be so big that it covered every inch beneath the city. Just the thought of such riches beset Captain Lucifer’s heart with greed. He knew he would find this treasure, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to share it. His dark blue eyes gazed leisurely across the decks, once seeing his gaze was upon them, the crew sharpened up. With a growl Lucifer lumbered below deck where to smells of tar and perspiration stifled him uncomfortably, Lucifer never spent too much time in the cabins. He loved the freedom and freshness of the outdoors far too much. In confident and long strides he neared a warped door that was hidden within the many shadows provided by the flickering lamp light, he kicked the door. It flung open to reveal a small and timid looking man attending to the cleaning of a set of cruel and sharp knives,

“Captain Lucifer,” he muttered, keeping his eyes fixated on the ground as if the grimy and sticky floor proved some interest to him,

“Eyes up. Jonathon!” Lucifer barked sending an arc of spray at the surgeon’s face.

“Where is the lad I sent down here?” he barked again, this time with less spitting,

“On the corner hammock, sir.” He muttered and instantly lowered his eyes once Lucifer had manoeuvred to the hammock that was swinging lazily in the far corner of the miniscule room. Lucifer gazed down at the pale and limp boy laying in the hammock. His face was pale and beaded with sweat which his rough clothes were drenched in cold sweat, his pale blonde hair plastered to his scalp,

“It seems as though he didn’t take it to well!” he joked and wheezed good naturedly,

“What do you expect? He just had his hand amputated!” scolded Jonathon crossly. Lucifer seemed taken aback by Jonathon’s outburst and strolled out of the infirmary, whistling a merry tune, he abruptly turned and fixed Jonathon with a intense gaze,

“Inform me if his condition changes.” he growled and entered the blistering summer sun.

As soon as Lucifer had gone, Jonathon resumed to disinfecting his knives, all the while muttering about his misunderstood genius and cursing everyman on the ship. As he meticulously scrubbed every inch of his infirmary he couldn’t get the captain’s eyes out of his mind, they were an intense blue that seemed as bottomless as the ocean, but the most disturbing thing was that these eyes were filled with tales of anguish and loss that the crew never saw. The Captain’s eyes were his true soul, one which he had a glimpse of and never expected to see again.

The following night was filled with ale and rowdiness, Jonathon shook his head in disgust and gazed wearily at the boy, he was yet to wake up from his fevered slumber. Just as he began to drift into a lazy sleep he noticed a change in the atmosphere above, the cries of excitement and joy had transformed into cries of pain and disbelief. Jonathon lurched out of his hammock, his mind stumbling and reeling with horror. Silently he edged towards his rifle, gripping it in his clammy, trembling hand. You fool! You don’t even know how to use such a thing! Why did you dismiss fighting as a fool’s profession? I bet you regret it now! Jonathon’s mind reprimanded him. At first he attempted to load the gun through the barrel hen scrabbled against the polished wood of the handle for some kind of grip.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” a small and wavering voice exclaimed, Jonathon jumped with fright and discovered the speaker was the feverish youth.

“Hand it here and I’ll load it for you.” The surgeon obeyed quietly and watched in awe how the youth that had only just exceeded childhood expertly loaded and cocked the gun. Smiling faintly the youth held the rifle out to the surgeon who gingerly received it,

“Thank-you….”

“Devlin, my name’s Devlin.” He said friendlily,

“I know I look ill, but I don’t believe you know how to use a rifle. I have to go and save the crew or what’s left of it anyway...” Jonathon saw in Devlin’s eyes that he had to do something, he relented,

“Okay, but I’m going to tend to the injured once you drive the others out.” Reluctantly he approached a battered cupboard and produced a gleaming cutlass,

“It was my fathers, he was a soldier, and I doubt he would like to know it was being used by a pirate, but perhaps he would understand.” Devlin could see by the look on Jonathon’s face that the cutlass meant a great deal to him

“Thank-you, I promise will take good care of it.” Jonathon produced long strips of rough, strong cloth and lashed the cutlass to the stump of the boy’s arms. Scolding himself as he did so.

Like lightening, Devlin sprung out of the infirmary, Adrenaline diminishing all of his tiredness. Wearily Jonathon gathered his things and sighed of the thought of yet another gruesome battle. He arrived in time to see Devlin approach the centre of the battle and began firing continuous shots at the invading pirates and swung his cutlass wildly taking out three enemies in under a minute. Through all the chaos Jonathon could see Captain Lucifer slumped against a wall, his breathing was short and face colourless. Once Jonathon had reached him, he could see that his injuries were serious. He had been shot just below the heart, with steady hands and a racing mind Jonathon attempted to staunch the flow of blood that blossomed like a rose upon his patched plain shirt. The outside world faded into a steady drone as he made numerous attempts to save the Captain’s life. It was hopeless, the light was slowly fading from his eyes and his breathing becoming more laboured. Blood bubbled and with his dieing breath he whispered,

“Eleanor…” with a sigh and stifled sob Jonathon faced the bedlam around him. In a few hours the crew had driven off the invaders and none had fought so valiantly as Devlin. After all the mess had been cleared, decks swabbed, bodies disposed off and injured tended to the men were faced with two tasks, the disposal of the attackers and Captain Lucifer’s funeral. The attackers were stripped of all weapons but a cutlass and a rifle with a single shot then left to rot on a raft. Captain Lucifer’s funeral celebrated the life of a man that was mysterious to his crew and life-long friends alike. At the setting of the sun Captain Lucifer’s body was thrown into the ocean that devoured him eagerly, never again would Captain Lucifer’s deep blue eyes shimmer like the ocean that held as many secrets as his eyes did. Ale and laughter followed a farewell that any pirate would enjoy, most men escaped from their sorrows and pains for a while but all Jonathon could think of was Lucifer’s deep haunting eyes that he could lose himself in for eternity and his last whispered words. With-out thinking he sat with the crew for the night and downed a few ales in respect of the captain, knowing no matter what his past held every pirate enjoyed good ale. With a flying heart he sang heartily,

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me

We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me

We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

Maraud and embezzle and even high-jack

Drink up me hearties yo ho

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me

We kindle and char, inflame and ignite

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

We burn up the city, we're really a fright

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me

We're beggars and blighters and ne'er do-well cads

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

Aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads

Drink up me hearties, yo ho”

And as he sang he realised something tomorrow is another day, one which he might not survive. So he decided to make the very best of the time he had.