Davina Jones's right-hand man held her after beheading the British navy general.
His body was broken. His wounds were deep. The pain that had been held at bay by adrenaline and will was now seeping into his mind a slow, agonizing tide that threatened to drown him. But still, this man laughed.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
His voice echoed across the water, carried by the wind, defying the chaos that surrounded him. He stood in front of this many ships and navy soldiers that surrounded him, his captain in one arm, his broken body held upright by nothing but will.
Bravery at its finest.
A word crossed his mind as he said, his voice calm, almost conversational.
"What use is it to fear my enemies?"
He paused.
"I need not to fear my enemies."
He smiled.
"I can only fear what I can see." He touched his eyes white, empty, blind. "And I cannot see anything."
His smile widened.
"So I cannot fear."
That was his ideal.
And so at that moment, it would be an insult to him if any other man besides him was called a brave man. This was the height of it all.
He shouted out loud, his voice carrying across the water.
"If any is to come near me they will meet their end!"
And so, for the first time, this man released a large wave of killing intent across the sea. It manifested itself physically a dark, choking mist that flowed from his body, spread across the water, clashed with the waves themselves.
A killing intent that could be manifested physically was born of something deep. Something that had been forged in the fires of suffering, tempered by the certainty of death, honed by the will to survive.
As he shouted, a navy general shouted back.
His voice was thunder loud enough to carry across the water, loud enough to drown out the storm, loud enough to silence the chaos.
"SILENCE, YOU PIRATE SCUM!"
He clashed his own intent with that of Davina's right-hand man. The two forces collided dark mist against golden light shaking the ships, rippling the water, cracking the air.
"You should be grateful that that woman that is in your hands is not dead!"
He raised his blade.
"Men! Fear not!" His voice was a roar. "The sun and light of Britain is upon us!"
He looked at the soldiers around him at their fear, at their doubt, at their hesitation.
"Remember that the three brothers are not dead! They were sent here ahead of us!"
His voice hardened.
"How will it be if we failed them?" He paused. "Would you want to claim that you are amongst the men of the nation that the sun never sets on?"
He looked at them at their faces, at their eyes, at the weakness that lurked beneath their pride.
"Is that what you want?"
He paused.
"Then why do you fight?"
He lifted his blade and ripped his clothes to shreds in one pull. The fabric tore, fell, revealed his body.
He was like a fat pig.
His belly bulged. His arms were flabby. His chest was soft. He was the opposite of a soldier the opposite of a warrior, the opposite of everything they had been trained to become.
He spoke.
"Is this the body of a soldier?"
He looked at his men at their shock, at their confusion, at their disgust.
"Everyone here you are all men of war who have been through the greatest of hell and training!"
He paused.
"Then how tell me how can you have fear in your mind?"
He touched his chest over his heart.
"You who has not enjoyed the benefit of the world..." His voice dropped. "I am no legend either."
He smiled.
"All I did was to sacrifice my life like a lamb in the war." A pause. "Perhaps that is why I am here."
His voice hardened.
"And perhaps that is my purpose."
He looked at his men at the soldiers who had followed him, who had trusted him, who had believed in him.
"All my life, I have lived comfortably." His voice was soft, almost confessional. "Eating and drinking as my men went to war."
He laughed a short, bitter, broken sound.
"Hell no." His voice hardened. "I did not even sacrifice my life for the good of the nation."
He paused.
"I did not even know that I would die."
in the space between the fat general's confession and the blind pirate's defiance, between the sun that never sets and the darkness that gathered on the horizon.
Davina's right-hand man stood.
The navy general stood.
And the sea roared