After all the golden pieces had been ripped from the open belly of the boat ashore, it felt like there was nothing left to gather for the youngest of the pirates. He sat down and looked at the rotten wood and the burnt sails, torn from the ancient attack on the ship. Why was it lying there on the beach, still filled a few minutes ago with the treasures his assailants had earned when they took over the vessel?
His companions hailed his name, urging him to come back among the gilded victorious. He ignored them, looking bitterly at his empty hands, closing in fists and opening them again as if he wished some gold coin would appear.
There would be other hunts and opportunities. As he got up, he noticed a light whooshing sound that seemed to come from the inside of the fallen ship. He went back inside, trying to follow the mysterious whisper, but couldn't hear it anymore. There was actually not a sound inside, even the crew celebrating outside seemed to have gone quiet. A ray of light was coming through the deck to hit the round belly of a jar, emerging from a pile of platters and tainted glassware. At least, he could get a solid draught of rum and forget about his misfortune.
The handle broke when he grabbed the large amphora. It was heavier than he had expected. Inside, he didn't find rum, but a strange shimmery oil that shone as if the light was coming from it, rather than just being reflected by the tiny metallic flakes. Definitely no luck today, he thought, as he wiped his hand on the first thing he could find - a dirty cloth lying nearby. He was about to throw the piece of fabric away when he felt its texture became suddenly rigid. When he looked again, he couldn't believe his eyes. The piece of cotton had turned into gold. The shape was the same; he could still see the texture of the threads tightly weaved on the surface, but the fabric was now metal.
He knew he had to hide his discovery from his peers, but how? Why bring an empty jar on the way back, or how to pretend there was only liquor inside while keeping everyone else from attempting to drink it? Sweat pearled on his forehead as he breathed the fresh air again, his feet eating the wet sand. Every step took him closer to the boat, further from any good excuse to protect his precious cargo. When he got up there, there was still not a sound, not an animated song being chanted by the pirates. The silence was deadly. That's when he saw them: shriveled up against the shrouds, curled against each other in the weirdest postures, their skin centuries old, the riches scattered around them. The cursed treasure had once again found a new home and annihilated those who were proud enough to think they could own it. Careful not to touch the coins and jewels, the young one detached the yawl, prepared to sail back home alone. Isaac knew this would be a long and dangerous crossing. He burnt in his head the image of this moment, knowing fully that the story he would later tell would inevitably become mixed with the reality he experienced. Then he plunged the paddle and drifted away from shore in the direction of the sun."
Information for illustrative purposes only.
