Sitting within the walls of the huge dinning room of the castle in the air the Good Captain was drinking rum a looking through the ledger his father had left him. Although at any given time there was up to a hundred men within ear shot of him he was alone and left that way out of respect.
Rather than read the large leather bound ledger with the gold gilding from cover to cover in the order the pages were laid out the Good Captain used fate to help him chose the pages he would read. None of the stories within the leather covers were in chronological order and just like the Good Captain had trusted the way in which the ledger had reached his hand was fate he trusted which ever page his fingers flicked to and opened at would be the story he needed to read at that time.
It may have seemed like an odd method to many but for those who did not understand the spirituality of piracy and the way in which a good pirate lead his life they would always see oddness and error in the pirate way of life. The Good Captain did not let such things enter his mind as he sipped his rum and looked down at the words on the page before him.
“Sunset On The Golden Age.” The Good Captain said to the empty room.
Upon reading the heading for a second time the Good Captain didn’t immediately know what he was about to read but he suspected he did. The Golden Age of Piracy was a period of time where the pirates ruled the sea, when pirates were feared as much because of what they did as they were feared because of the stories told about them.
It was a period of time spanning more than half the seventeenth century and more than a quarter of the eighteenth century. Pirates had survived for more than a thousand years, they’d beaten monsters, warriors and even the stinky Viking foe, who posed the least threat of them all and by the mid seventeenth century their true foes numbered so few it was the golden age for those pirates who remained standing.
Like many groups of people that lived through such wonderful times in the history of their people many of the pirates that lived through the Golden Age of Piracy believed that with one age coming to close another Golden Age would approach. There was mixed reactions as to whether the next Golden Age would be as golden as the first but it was the sort of thing that gave people hope.
Just like the stinky Vikings had Valhalla, an enormous hall located in Asgard and ruled over by the god Odin. Just like Christians had a place they called Heaven where all good disciples lived once they had moved on and just like those who didn’t go to heaven had a place in the afterlife called hell, the pirates had their own afterlife known by most as Magnetic North.
However it was the belief of many, especially those who had lived through the Golden Age of Piracy that before they were to reach Magnetic North on their final ever journey another Golden Age would be reached. It was their drive, their compulsion, their life!
Having been brought into this world sometime after the Golden Age the Good Captain only had stories and legends to tell him about what those glory times were like. What he had never had was a first hand account, an account from someone he knew, someone he was connected too. If what he had in front of him was his own father’s account of those years, for which history told him his father had survived as a young pirate, it made the value of the ledger unimaginable, to him at least.
The Good Captain placed his large, half full, tankard of rum back down on the polished table top surface. Until the base of the mug first touched the table he did not realise how much his hand was shaking. It was obviously the prospect of reading his father’s story that was subconsciously making his hand shake and it was a feeling he’d rarely felt before. No sooner was the tankard down safely than the Good Pirate removed his hand from the handle to stop the vessel shaking.
Of course he was nervous to read his father’s ledger, especially having found out what he was about to read, that much was natural. But what he couldn’t fully understand was whether that nervousness was because it was his father’s story or if it was because the story had started centuries before and in that time neither himself, any of his pirate crew, or apparently his father had found the second Golden Age of Piracy.
“Snap out of it!” he told himself and began to read the pages before him as if reading would magically change his thoughts.
“Alone I sit on the edge of this chaotic spire that reaches down into the very depths of the silent ocean. It has been aeons since the Golden Age, I can hear the slow drumming beats from a shell frozen in time.”
The Good Captain wasn’t entirely sure he was reading what he had first thought it was so he read on without hesitation.
“The shadows as I look down into the nothingness that is this spire appear to me sublime. I know that sounds unfathomable but should you be where I am you too would understand to what I refer. There are forces down there which radiate an awe inspiring luminescence. At first I do not know why they are there. At first to me they appear daunting, even scary, but quickly my mind tells me otherwise. It is then I realise those inspiring luminescent forces are guiding me, guiding me down a hidden path, a path travelled by only a few selected pirates before me.
Suddenly I know that the guided path will take me to…”
Previous Pirate story here.