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Legends of the Treasure Child: Sparrow's Nest	By : Sparrowbirdie Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5265 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Carribbean and I do not own Troy. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Jack Sparrow stopped in his tracks and eyed the young man as if he'd just turned into a leper. Then his lips, partially shrouded in a by now familiar moustache, parted into a wide grin. Jack laughed so loud all of his gold teeth showed. But when the young man continued to eye him sourly and crossed his arms above his chest in a manner which suggested he was being serious, Jack pulled himself together and stopped roaring with laughter. He suppressed it into a snicker, before he finally, after a painstakingly and embarrassingly long moment, finally shut his mouth.

"Do – I – have a bible? Me? Captain Jack Sparrow and Pirate lord of the Caribbean sea? Oh, hang on. My pillaging days are over ...!" Jack rolled his eyes and got a dreamy expression on his face. Then sadness. Regret, even. He slumped his shoulders. Then he turned his head and gazed at the newborn in the cot. Regret vanished, and Jack eyed Gilbert Monterey again.

"I might have a tattered copy of it somewhere … laying about" the captain replied with a playful hint in his eye. Gilbert shook his head in silent opposition.

"I seem to have misplaced mine, you see, and I need to read a little in it. For guidance. And reassurance. Do you read the Bible, captain Sparrow?" Gilbert immediately winced, already knowing the answer. The priest in him simply would not allow for any other question.

"Nay, as it were" Jack replied as he stuck his head into a bookshelf. "I'm rather busy trying to stay out of a certain demon's way, if you take my meaning. I thought I had it somewhere ..." Jack mumbled on as he rummaged around. “What do you need a Bible for, anyway?”

"I'm – looking for answers, I suppose. " Gilbert scratched his head. “John's adamant about God's deceit, and he's convinced that I ought to go into hiding. That God – will send angels to destroy the – things – that live inside me. I think I must be possessed! I hear voices – in my head. Three of them! Children's voices.”

"But you are possessed. Three children have taken possession of your belly. And if they've begun to talk to you, then all the better. It means they like you."

Gilbert dodged a few books which came his way as Jack made an effort to reach into the debts of his bookcase. "Yes! But – if they are demons – how come they speak of love? And I am filled up with God's love. It – it doesn't make any sense. How can they know of God and his endless love if they are of demon kind? And John – it's as if – as if I know him and I yearn to know more of him. I – I ..!” Gilbert's eyes were on the verge of watering over. He sat down on the nearest chair in resignation as words failed to express the chaos inside him. Jack paused, straightened his back and looked at him.

“Son” he began, “you need to understand one thing and I can't believe I'm actually saying this: Love is pure. Love – is. It exists independently from God. Love exists even in the most twisted of minds, in the deepest recesses of any weathered sailor's heart. And love prevails over evil. My children are living proof of that. I've raised them with love, and in return they do what they can to protect me from the demon. Love keeps him at bay and my children close to me. Love – brings down empires. Love – quenches the demon in my children and builds the human in them.”

“But love also makes blind.”

“Aye” Jack replied softly. “I love my children. I know what they are and what they are capable of. And I can't bring myself to abandon them. And that goes for John as well. You are the son of the one he hates the most. But he loves you, and now that you bear his children, he's shackled to you on hands and feet and he cannot abandon you no matter how hard he would try. His focus is all on you. Not on me. And he hates himself for it. Because he is concerned about my welfare. Because of love. To be a demon and to love – is like being torn in half. Love – is poison to him, savvy?”

“Has he told you that?!” Gilbert whispered breathlessly. Suddenly, his heart had begun to beat loudly.

“Here's an experiment for you. Next time you're with him, look into his eyes when you tell him how you feel about the children's voices in your mind. Look at his eyes and observe how they change colour from golden to brown and back to golden. The gold is the demon. The brown is the human. If you're ever in doubt whether or not he has internal struggles, do that. And as far as God is concerned, I think that thinking too much about it is never a good thing. You cannot undo what has been done in the past and best to leave it at that. Always look forward. To the future, savvy? Bygones should stay bygones and doubloons should stay doubloons” Jack replied, turned and handed him said copy of the Bible. Gilbert stood perplexed for a moment, eyeing the tattered, foul-smelling and stained item which reminded him more of a drowned terrier than an actual book.

“Thank you. I think” Gilbert replied and hesitantly accepted the smelly book. “Maybe – I don't need this after all.”

“Then you may feed it to the sharks or some other unholy creature in the depths of the sea” Jack told him quietly. The book smelled of decay, and as it fell into Gilbert's palm, a mushroom cloud erupted and rose into the air in front of them. Gilbert coughed violently. “What happens if you baptise a demon?”

“That kills them. But baptising a half-demon is something else. All of my children, including John, are baptised by the bishop of Canterbury himself. I brought John to him when he was a – well – ought to have been a baby. And once he knew the whole story, the bishop insisted on baptising the rest. Which I had no objection to. A little holy water never harmed anyone.”

Gilbert went silent. He drew his brows together, obviously thinking hard about what Jack had just said. He swallowed, before he said: “John's – baptised? He's a – Christian?”

“He's baptised. Let's keep it at that.”

“Baptised ...” Gilbert sighed in reply and opened the vellum-covered book front. He stood for a moment as his mind attempted to decode the intricate Gothic letters on the frontispiece opposite the beautiful drawing. It was almost unreadable, as someone had scribbled notes in every available blank space. Oh well, a Bible's still the holy Bible. But such misuse …! Gilbert shook his head weakly, his curls bobbing with the motion.

Just then, Jacob and Israel walked in. They had the smell of salty sea in their hair and their skin was flushed from the exercise of flying. They were wearing Jack's clothes, having suddenly grown out of their own. As with Nathaniel and Daniel, these twins unhinged Jack. They had Saieros' body, his way of walking and standing, and their faces were a mild blend of both Jack and Saieros. With the mass of brown dark hair laying just right, it was frightful to see how much they resembled him. He hadn't told them yet, but having them around brought back painful memories of how Saieros had treated him from time to time. He didn't want to tell them. He wanted to spare them the confrontation. Because of his love for them. He had to harness this fear, this recurring state of terror the mere sight of them sometimes induced him with. “You lads finished frolicking about in the skies?” Jack asked.

“Aye” Jacob replied sounding abit hurt. “But we weren't frolicking, as it were, we've been up there looking for Scyros.”

“And did you find it?”

“Aye” Israel replied, sounding just like his twin, “we did. And the waters around are littered with ships with guns.”

“I reckon the Venetians are anxious to hold on to the castle. Strategic point of interest in these waters” Jack commented in afterthought. “We might just have to sneak in during the night.”

“Oh no no more sneaking. Why can't we all just be friends?”

A voice suddenly drew their attention. It was the first mate who was standing in the doorway, arms crossed above his chest, looking gloomy.

“Captain Sparrow, Sir” Monty began, “it's a bit of nasty weather ahead, Sir. We're in for a rough ride to Greece. I recommend a hasty down-strapping of all things loose.”

“Why are you never around when I need you, Monty?” Jack replied drily. “Mister Schär. What do I pay you handsomely for?” Jack wanted to know.

“My discretion, Captain” Monty answered.

“Aye. Your discretion. Learn to knock, would you? How does the crew fare? Generally sort-of-ish?”

“There's a lot of talk, Sir. A lot of discontent. They didn't sign up for this, and they think you've misled them by not informing them about the demon.”

“Really?”

“The way things have evolved, many of them are talking about leaving as soon as we make port.”

“The nearest port is on Scyros, and Scyros is controlled by the Venetians. Who have little love for the British. If they attempt to make port there, they'll be walking straight into slavery. But by all means – let them. If they don't have what it takes to stomach battling a demon or two, then good riddance, I say. If they can't handle it, then it's a waste of my gold. You tell them that, mister Schär.”

“Aye, Sir” Monty replied without further comment. He turned hesitantly and walked away. There was something in his stance which made Jack's gaze linger on him. Why ever had Mister Gibbs recommended such a spineless coward who never concerned himself with own profits but always spoke on behalf of the crew? The world was indeed changing and it was not for the better. Silence lingered for a moment after the first mate's exit.

“They are going to turn on you, you know” Jacob spoke softly, breaking the silence.

“Mutiny” Jack stated. He sat down on the chair by his mahogany desk and sighed loudly.

“These people are weak. This crew you have now. They're not like Mister Gibbs and the rest. These are people of a different age. People without faith. They're like sheep, ready to follow anyone posing as God Almighty” Israel said. That made Jack look up from his brooding.

“Now you're talking like Saieros. And Saieros is mad.”

“He isn't mad. He is a demon warlord with perspective. And he's royalty. Of the old kind. Anyone not royal is not good enough.”

“Really?” Jack replied sarcastically, “funny I didn't notice that. Then again, when you're faced with the prospect of being impaled on a half a metre long erection, the last thing I tend to worry about, is my bloodline.”

“It's awfully big, yes” Israel agreed contemplatively.

“You're not helping” Jack shot his son a reproachful glance.

“Focus please, people? Father, I'm telling you there's a storm brewing. And it's got to do with Gilbert. It's … dire, it's black and horrendous.”

“There is a storm brewing. Is the ship going to sink?”

“No.”

“With me?!” Gilbert shot in. “Why me?”

“Is he in any kind of peril?” Jack asked, ignoring Gilbert.

“Yes.”

Jack stopped in his tracks. “Can't you be a little more specific?”

Israel hesitated, as he mentally reached to the depths of his inherited wisdom. “The angels have seen him”, he finally said. Everyone turned their heads to look at Gilbert. Just then, there was a rap at the door and John walked in.

“I honestly don't know what to do right now. The demons below are summoning me. The heavens above are in an uproar, and the ghosts sing of war. I think – perhaps it would be best – if all of you were to stay at the Crimson Lotus.”

“And leave the crew? Leave the stones unguarded!?” Jack looked from John to Israel and to Jacob and back again. “I can't risk losing a single one of them!”

“I can't risk losing you. Or Jonathan.”

“I'm not leaving my own ship. I'm not leaving the stones.”

“I can't protect you while you're here. And I have Scarborough, Gilbert and Prince Angwyn and his people to consider as well.”

“The stones can't be on the Crimson, and I cannot leave without the stones” Jack replied. “Besides, I've been at sea on a stormy night before. I can handle myself. And I have Israel and Jacob. And Daniel and Nathaniel. And Erastus.”

John fell silent, scrutinizing Jack with his golden glowing eyes. His face was a perfect replica of Jack's, only twenty years younger. His eyes were more intense, his presence more commanding. And for a second or two, his eye-colour wavered, shifting from golden to brown and back to golden.

The ship was beginning to rock. The wind had grasped the sails, and outside, the first rolling thunder could be heard.

“Find Scyros. Find the isle fast and – and find someplace to anchor up, preferably without getting caught by the French or the Venetians. I fancy the Ottomans aren't too pleased to see an English ship in these waters either. Israel and Jacob should get scouting again. This is impossible! You can't care for Jonathan and captain this ship under such conditions! It's absurd. The crew are against you and – !”

“ – that will do! I hear you. You would rather have me abandon my ship and the stones which I have busted my back for.”

“The stones can be recovered. You – are invaluable” John tried convincingly.

“I'm staying. Take Gilbert with you and do what you must. Remember that he's with child.”

That was the end of the discussion. Loud crackling thunder rolled above their heads and lightning had begun to flash up. “Israel and Jacob. Go, locate Scyros as soon as you can.” The twins obeyed silently, crushing their father in an embrace before leaving. Jack extended his hand to Gilbert, who accepted it almost ceremoniously.

“Safe journey. I hope to see you again at Scyros.”

“Likewise” Jack replied. Gilbert picked up his bag which he had left by the doorway, waiting anxiously for John.

John was looking serious, his body language spoke of great discontent of the current situation. Jack was forcing him away. His commitment to Gilbert was forcing him away from Jack and his duty as a warlord to the demons now also took him away from the one person which was the hub of this existence. “I love you” he told his father as he bent down and embraced the former pirate. The words were futile, and were ill-equipped at describing his true devotion to Jack. “Please, let me summon Daniel and Nathaniel. Have them come and aid you? Let me summon for Erastus. Please, please let me do that so I won't have to worry about you?”

“If it makes you feel better, then fine. But I really don't need a chaperone.”

A little later on, captain Jack Sparrow set his feet outside the cabin. He had taken the habit of wearing a large, billowing scar around his neck. It was draped seemingly carelessly over his shoulders, obscuring his chest. It was a necessary prop once one had given birth. Because of the breasts. Clad in a see-through linen shirt, the two soft bulges and the jutting nipples tended to give Jack quite a female appearance. Out here, in the open where he was being watched by the inquisitive eyes of the sailors, Jack had to play it safe. Captain Jack Sparrow's crew, which were an odd blend of sailors from London, Wales and Cornwall, were paid handsomely not to ask questions. In fact, they were the best paid crew in the south of England. The sheer outcome every month dazzled them at first, and Jack remembered several of them looking twice at the figure mentioned with big, fat numbers in their contracts. These men were not simpletons. Nor were they greedy pirates. But they were rather religious and set in their ways.

Jack took up position at the helm, gripping the railing with one hand. Jonathan was asleep. The sky ahead was dark and foreboding, the sea rougher for every passing minute. John and Gilbert made their way down the ladder. A lopsided smile forced itself way onto Jack's lips, watching how John ventured down first, offering his hand to Gilbert who – flustered and offended at being treated like some weak woman in need of assistance – waved him away. Defeated and at a loss on how to respond to yet another revoke by the love of his life, John stood for a moment, looking like a baby about to weep. Then he obviously remembered who he was, pulled himself together and stopped pouting. It occurred to Jack that they behaved like an old married couple which constantly were at odds with each other over petty differences because all of the major issues in life was resolved. Still, this pair was at the beginning of their journey together. And Gilbert was slowly accepting John's attention in his own way. And John was ready to offer Gilbert the moon, had he asked for it.

So, it had come to this, then. This was the man – the one person destined to raise John into adulthood – Jack mused. Jack had been given the privilege of raising John from infancy up until now. Now, the bond between father and child were to be truly severed. The sons move out of the nest of their parents, to live and make a nest of their own together with their spouses. John and Gilbert would now establish a nest and have offspring there. And where did that leave Jack? It suddenly struck him he was going to be a grandfather. Jack wrinkled his nose, then tasted the word. Grandfather. It meant nothing really. He felt no immediate commitment. And the pirate in him was kicking furiously and almost doubling over, sick to his guts by the thought of getting old and second-hand. Because becoming a grandparent meant one inevitable truth: Time passed.

Oh, stuff it and a bottle of rum! Jack mused, digging his toes in his boots towards the deck, elevating his nose and drawing in the misty air. The sky above was going black, and the cabin boys were busy lighting every lantern they could find. The ship was rocking unsteadily back and forth, its waltz across the waves made Jack smile. It had been a while since he'd been riding some proper waves. Jonathan had been strapped down in his cot along with everything else which could fall over. The boy had the sea in his blood obviously, and remained fast asleep through the rolling waves. Oh Will. Where are you now? How are you faring?

John extended his hand and Gilbert accepted it. They were back on the Crimson Lotus. The red lady was obviously stressed. Now that the precious cargo once more was on board, she relaxed a bit more. She felt like a grandmother now, knowing her captain had fathered young. Looking up, John saw Jamie Scarborough at the helm. His boyfriend Elijah was with him, and both were looking worried. “Sir, you're presence is requested down below. The prince is asking for you!” Scarborough shouted through the heavy thunder.

“Aye” John replied, and ushered Gilbert inside the captain's cabin. Down below, the small group of elves had huddled together in one of the cabins which they had taken as their own. Once John had knocked and entered, prince Angwyn Réalta Thuaidh stood. He bowed his head respectfully, assuming the duty as leader. He looked better than ever, His long blond hair had assumed a golden colour and the deep hollows around his eyes had smoothed out, but not completely. They all looked to be improving, and the air of the cabin was smelling faintly of jasmine.

“My lord and master” the prince began urgently. “Demons are advancing from the depths of the sea … – !”

“ – I am aware of that. I need to go down and attempt to find out why they are stirring.”

“It is your consort, my lord. The creation of your children in his belly have angered the sentient beings in the heavens. To them, both his existence and their existence within him, is an abomination. The demons are rising to answer this threat against him. Why, my lord? Why would the demons care for this – living thing – if not to devour his soul?”

“Long story, my prince. When this is over, the time has come for you – to be in that condition as well. Your health has improved greatly. I think you're ready. Right now, I want you all upstairs and into the captain's cabin. You will wait there together with Gilbert.”

Angwyn stared after him as John left through the cabin door. He and his few subjects had been left to fend for themselves. He sensed immediately who Gilbert was and through his mind, he saw Gilbert's, or rather John's offspring. Three of them, and Angwyn immediately admired this stranger for the accomplishment. One – was a feat in itself. But three …! The statement which John had left hanging in the air as they left the safety of the room below, now lingered in Angwyn's mind. It was a promise of new life, of continued existence. And it was finally time. Time for Angwyn to keep his side of the bargain. He would have to sacrifice his first born. Angwyn hesitated for a slight second, caught in indecision, before he leapt forward and tore the door open. Leaping out on deck, he was just in time to see John in all of his naked splendour, as he was about to open the hatch of the railing on starboard side. He looked over his shoulder and locked gazes with Angwyn. The change had already begun. John's legs were growing scales by the ankles, swelling and flesh melting. His hair was a wild, messy halo of pitch black, alive with magic, floating mid-air. John's tight buttocks caught Angwyn' s attention, and John smiled playfully as he understood what it was that all of the sudden made Angwyn blush. The metamorphosis proceeded, binding his feet together, turning skin into sparkling, golden scales. John dived into the frothing, mad ocean and was gone. The last Angwyn saw, was the and some elongated golden fishtail. A lightning crackled. Thunder rolled anew, and Angwyn gazed upwards. There was a shift in the air. It felt like breathing ice particles, and from Above rained a wave of malice and hostility in the shape of angels. The sudden horror was immediately caught mentally by Angwyn's people. They stood abruptly from their seats, with the sickening sensation of Angwyn's panic in their chests. Moments later, Angwyn tore the door open and jumped inside. He shut the door and had to sit down on the spot. The sudden exercise was too fatiguing. John was still fresh in his mind, and the elf shuddered as the half-demon continued on his path downwards into the cold, dark abyss.

There he is, our new Satan ...! the figureheads whispered through the dark water. The Gatekeeper is amongst us. He, who possesses the body of the Christ …! Three warlords …! Three princes of Hell …!

John hesitated before he answered. The place was filled with ghosts and demons now leaving their safe spots. Looking as if they all had one common purpose, John remained where he was, carefully not to cloud up any more sand from the bottom. He could feel Angwyn Réalta Thuadih in the back of his head. The elven prince was terrified, yet he followed his lord and master mentally. Had he been down here, it would have been a horrifying place, with ship wrecks, darkness, coldness and the every nightmare monster on the loose. Creatures with more than the average eight tentacles dwelt down here, and they were following John's every move with curiosity. From out of the corner of his eye, John could see the large, spineless body of an ancient serpent coil its way between some overgrown thousand year old debris.

Come now, does Lucifer Morningstar know about this? John told them. He zigzagged between the ascending demons who came out from their dark dwellings inside rotten hulls and deep, distorted crevices in the reef. He watched them spiral upwards towards the surface.

Lucifer Morningstar is not our Satan ….! There has not been a Satan for 2000 years ….! He has withdrawn to the eight plane of Hell. There he resides, skulking in his cave, weeping over the games which God Almighty plays. And in the meanwhile who will preside over Hell …?! Who will ship the souls of the damned and the innocent where they belong ...?!

I am the Gatekeeper and Lucifer is the Satan. He holds the title as ruler of Hell. He always has, and if he cannot perform his task, then he must ascend and hand me the title, himself. Do not think that you can trick me into a fight with him …!!

The number is always three …! Three brothers, three warlords ...–!!

– and the Father, the Son and The Holy Ghost! John retorted angrily. He watched as the animated figurehead of a beautiful, halfnaked mermaid writhed by the mention of the Holy Trinity. Looking her squarely in the eye made her angry, and her maidenly features turned into the face of a horrible hag with fangs, hissing at him. If you choose to go against the forces of Heaven, you do so on your own accord. I will not aid you. I will not stand as the spearhead of this foolish campaign which will end badly for your kind.

We shall do this all the same, for Christ is near. He is possessed by the heirs of Hell and he is ours ...! He is ours …!! And he shall live, and his offspring be strong …! God shall not win, this time …!

It was going to be a bloodbath. Which meant all the action was on the surface of one very stirred up and angry ocean. John spun around, his fish tail whipping through the water. He quickly gained on the last wave of demons, and he fled past them as fast as he could. It occurred to him that he had been caught in a sort of rebellion against God. And he had acted stupidly, impregnating Gilbert so fast, and all too soon. He couldn't care less about the demons, all though he knew that they were now standing up to God's angels for the first time in 2000 years. They wouldn't make it. The sheer number of demons which was needed to take down one angel, was astronomical. It required the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of demons just to create enough gore to make a protective layer in order to get close. It meant that the angel would have to be covered in so much gore and demon blood his divine light wouldn't be able to shine through. When was the last time something like that had happened? Aye, John thought back. His father, the Demon King of the Seventh Plane of Hell once slew an angel. But that was long before he'd met Paris. Still, the experience lingered in his inherited memory, coursed through his veins. And should it ever come to it, John knew he would be able to take one out. If he had armies of demons at his disposal, he would have resources available, should something like that occur.

He shot through the surface of the raging ocean like an arrow released from the bow. It happened simultaneously as the first wave of demons broke through the surface. John made it back on board with an eerie feeling of deja vu. The Crimson Lotus was barking worse than a mad pit-bull, bad-mouthing both the Abode and the Above for upsetting the sea in such a manner, endangering her precious cargo. She was a fierce lioness now, protecting her unborn young. She had two child-bearers to look after. One, with child, and one soon to be with child. They needed calm sea, fresh air and sleep. This was outrageous!

There was something here, John thought to himself as he wiped salty water from his face. There was an odd mix of futuristic events going on in his head. There was the sense of the world going under, of masses of demons ascending from the Abode. And humans dying by the thousands. His offspring, mighty prices, fighting to save as many as possible. The angels raging down. There was no time for this. He strode over to the captains cabin, tgore the door open and was about to walk inside. He was still dripping wet, naked and hot-blooded, with his clothes in an untidy bundle in his left hand. He stopped in the doorway, startled at what he saw.

The skies had clouded the heavens and shrouded the sun. Wind had picked up, and now it whipped ferociously. Angry thunder rolled through the heavy sky, and lightning criss-crossed downwards towards the sea. Israel and Jacob were terrified. The gathering clouds made them lose their way, and they could no longer spot the White Swann which battled the crests on treacherous waters. There were isles everywhere and the ship was sailing blindly. The twin brothers had flown from their father's ship to keep an eye out for Scyros. Though they knew the storm was coming, it was suddenly upon them. Instinct told them to get earthbound. But steering downwards was hazardous, as the winds kept blowing them sideways, tumbling them over and suddenly whisking them hundreds of metres apart from each other. Attempting to make a controlled descent became secondary to the need of staying together, frightened and lost as they both were. Electricity crackled through the air, raising the hair on the back of their necks, and they were soaked to the skin by rain which pounded mercilessly on their wings, soaking them up and making it heavy to fly and impossible to steer. Landing now worried them. There was no way of knowing whether they'd hit open sea or dry land. In either case, it was going to hurt badly. In the distance, they saw comets of white bright light raining down. Fear grasped both of them, and on the verge of panic they attempted to retreat. Those orbs with white halos, were angels. Angels of God. And they detested anything and anyone with demon blood coursing through their veins. As the brothers wrestled the strong currents, it occurred to Jacob and Israel that it were the angels who'd whipped up this storm for some reason. And that reason might just as well be Jack. Flying blindly and in panic as the white orbs fell faster and closer, dodging lightning bolts and negotiating strong turbulence, the brothers fought to stay together. It was almost as if the storm was bent on separating them. Jacob lost his bearing, was tossed to either side by strong side-winds. Lightning shot out from the heavens above him and struck ground, flaring up everything in its immediate vicinity. Jacob starting shaking. He was lost in the strong flash of light. When Israel saw him again, Jacob was falling. He was clearly unconscious and his left side had been charred. Israel collected his wings and attempted to make a dive for his brother. Just then, a white orb shot out from the grey sky above him, shot downwards. Israel dodged, twisted and twirled. There was no saying how big this orb was, and the light was so intense it blinded him. He felt his body going numb. He couldn't even feel the rain whipping on his skin.

His fast fall ended abruptly, and the impact knocked the wind out of him for a moment. A strong arm wrapped itself around his waist, and his descent slowed into a pace he could actually stomach. Opening his eyes, everything was a blur, but he could make out the contours of his unconscious twin on the other side of this thing that carried him. The arm let go off his waist, and Israel employed his wings to stay in flight. When he looked up, he stared into the serious face of Saieros.

Touching ground, Israel felt exhausted. He fell to his knees, panting wildly. His lungs burned from the effort and the cold air high above. He watched as Saieros put Jacob gently down on a dry patch of hay. They had sought refuge in the north tower of the castle at the city of Chora, on Scyros. Israel's head was immediately filled with memories. Saieros' memories. The winter. His human father struggling to reach the tower. His delirium. The immense sorrow and pain over love lost. His parents which eventually found back to one another. Aloysius' birth and the subsequent death of their demon father, the king. It was coming here, to a tower made from stone bricks, carved and chiselled by human hands long forgotten. Israel could see why Saieros felt this place reminded him of home. And it occurred to him that Saieros was in truth a homeless. A fugitive. He watched Saieros as the three metres tall demon warlord knelt next to his offspring and gently wiped away the rain water from his face. He cleared away the messy strands of hair, and caressed the boy's face with his index finger ever so gently. Saieros seemed to be holding his breath, carefully undoing the buttons of the unconscious Jacob's clothes. He peeled off the leather pants and tossed them aside. He ripped open Jacob's shirt and sleeves, minding the wounds. It was all done with such care that Israel became quite puzzled. It became apparent at Jacob had a burn down his left side. His left wing had sustained damage as well. Several of the external feathers were badly singed.

Israel turned his aching body to look outside. There was a gaping hole where the brick wall ought to have been. Instead it now offered a panoramic view into a chaos of thunderclouds and lightning. And in between, were the sleek, descending angelic comets. Israel shuddered. Instinctively, he knew that to be near the light of an angel would weaken a demon, numb it and drain all of its powers. To be touched by the actual angel was certain death. And certain death meant complete extinction. Saieros moved over to where Israel was laying. He took the boy under his arms and hauled him over to his unconscious brother. Israel felt like some newly hatched chick which was being ushered into the safest and warmest place of the nest. Then Saieros sat down next to him and undressed him in the same caring and gentle manner as with Jacob. His twin was slowly coming around, which was a good sign. Saieros still sported a great erection, and it remained stiff like a soldier standing to attention. The gentle undressing and the stiff manhood in plain sight sparked something familiar in Israel. He could see his demon father's face scrutinizing his flesh as it was exposed, inch by inch. The demon warlord tossed away Israel's garments and put both hands on Israel's thighs. The young man immediately felt his own manhood come alive. Lust bloomed in his groin and his breathing picked up the pace. The great white half demon leaned down to inhale the scent of Israel's sex through his nose. He then proceeded to pack the dry hay closer around Israel's body, obviously wishing for him to stay warm.

“Are you hungry?” Saieros suddenly asked. His voice was deep and resounding, masculine and with authority. Still, Israel had no trouble discerning the genuine care which was packed in between. Israel glanced down at Saieros' ribcage. There was a huge black patch where the half demon had been wounded. Next to him, Jacob moaned and opened his eyes.

“You are not heartless” Israel replied.

Saieros seemed oblivious to Israel's reply. He moved over to Jacob, bent his back and gazed into the face of the half-conscious offspring. Leaning in even closer, he drew in the scent of Jacob's breath. He then closed the gap between them, kissing the boy softly. The chaste kiss triggered another flashback. He saw Saieros as a young boy, a human boy, scooped up in his father's arms. The prince consort held him tightly, then smiled and kissed the little boy on the lips lovingly. Then a shadow over them. A shadow with wings. The prince lost his smile and turned pale. And Israel realised the shadow belonged to the demon king. Love lost. And bottomless grief. Saieros rested his forehead against Jacob's forehead and closed his eyes. A warmth filled the room. Jacob's burns began to heal up. The wings grew new feathers and colour returned to Jacob's cheek. Saieros brought his right hand up to caress his boy's cheek tenderly. Another flash from this pool of collective memories came to Israel, and he saw another thing which Saieros remembered. Again, Saieros was the little boy, cradled in his human father's arms, eagerly sucking away at one milky white small breast protruding from the folds created by the billowy fabric worn by his father. And the prince consort feeding his half demon child gently hummed a tune from the land of his ancestors, a Turkish lullaby. The demon king came in, full of pride, sat down and embraced his little family. Before the love was lost. Before the grief.

“Father” Israel began, “this grief that you have. If you could only see the good in Jack Sparrow? He loves your children the same ardent way your father loved you. If you only treated him with love and tenderness – !”

“ – Sparrow is a criminal. He does not deserve love.”

“The prince consort wasn't without flaw either, you know. He sacrificed an entire city for the sake of one woman.”

“The prince consort was immaculate.” Saieros replied with afterthought, and the way he gave his reply left little room for further argument. “Sparrow is – not worthy.”

“Why?”

Saieros hesitated. He was clearly contemplating a suitable answer. A good while went before he finally said: “He is not royalty. He has no virtues beyond bearing my young.”

“Father has many virtues. He loves us. Unconditionally. He loves us from the moment we come into existence. He doesn't – hate – you. He fears you. He – !” Israel cut himself short. He cut the thought short too, but it slipped from his mind all the same. Saieros raised his head and stared at him.

“He – what?” Saieros' tone of voice grew sharp. His superior mind punched mentally into Israel's head, like a fish snapping for the bait once it senses its presence. Saieros crawled from one twin to the other.

“Nothing!” Israel replied abruptly. There it was. The lust once more. Saieros growled quietly. His nostrils opened wide and took in every scent Israel's body had to offer. The thought which had been one second away from Israel's tongue, now fluttered in his mind, and he did his best to bury it. Saieros moved until he was between Israel's legs.

“You will tell me” he told Israel with great patience. His hands caressed the sides of Israel's thighs, beckoning his hips to make way. The beckoning was simply too great, and his demon authority simply greater. This time, with Jack out of the way, Israel knew he could allow himself to succumb and go with his urges. It was a demon's way. Alpha dog and underdog. And he would hold that stray thought away from Saieros for as long as possible. But not infinitely. He both saw and felt Saieros' manhood, smelling the sex. He allowed it to happen and grit his teeth at the pain of the intrusion. But he did not give in and allow Saieros' entrance to his mind. Saieros was gentle and patient. He was pushing his son – persuading him or even interrogating him – mildly, Israel mused.

“If only you could be so gentle and warm with Jack” he said, as Saieros thrust in and out of him.

“A waste of time” Saieros moaned.

“I think you would find, that if you stopped being violent with Jack, that he would be more cooperative – and perhaps even giving.” There was no denying the need for release which was now building in his groin.

There was a flash of a memory which suddenly pierced through his mind. Saieros had come to a stop. He tore himself away from Israel and stood. For a moment he seemed like a child who had lost its way. He went over to the gaping hole in the wall. His wet manhood glistened in the shifting light from the lightning across the sky. The memory obviously pained as well as confused him.

Jacob played the memory around in his mind. He was conscious now, and in a great amount of pain. Still, he was able to follow on events as they unfolded.

“You had forgotten, hadn't you?” Jacob asked Saieros. “Father?” Saieros turned to look at him. His black hair played in the air like an unholy halo about his head, and his black, black eyes with no visible irises, scrutinized his child for a moment.

“Yes. I had.”

There was once a prince consort. And he had loved his demon lord and master ardently. Looking back through memories inherited thousands of years ago, there were nights after nights filled with passionate lovemaking between the two. And Saieros' father, the demon king, had been gentle, and tender and caring. And his entire being had been filled with such love for this human – this man which had been sacrificed to him and whom he had taken as his slave – that every part of him ached and made him weak. Because love is like poison to a demon. There had been courage, admiration and honesty in that relationship. If he tried hard, Saieros could remember being a toddler, laying in his parents' bed and sucking his toes. And his parents would be busy with kissing each other passionately, gently undressing each other. All though his toe had been more interesting at the time, he still remembered the relaxed atmosphere, the love and sensuality. Before the downfall. Before the betrayal.

The White Swann seemed to be taking another breath as a giant wave crashed upon her. Captain Jack Sparrow held his breath with her, and exhaled once the water slid away from the deck. He couldn't remember the last time he saw such furious waves. It came quicker than expected. The raging weather took everyone by surprise, even him. But he didn't make the connection before the white comets started to fall from the dark sky, mingling with the lightning. And the crests built themselves up in a manner which was – unnatural. He only saw the creatures after that some of the crewmen pointed it out to him. And he had to look twice, not believing his eyes at first. But riding the crest were ghosts. And demons. They were apparently facing the white comets head on, and it took Jack several minutes to realise they were on the battlefield in some epic fight between good and evil. The White Swann had ventured into some sort of bubble. There was no telling if they were close to land or far from it. For all Jack knew, they might have passed Scyros. It wasn't that far. The thought of Jonathan unattended was distracting him, and he decided he would rather have the child wet, screaming and close to him rather than dry and unattended. He would wrap the boy in a sling and tie him to his body. That way, is something happened, they would stay together. In life and death. He got his first mate to take the rudder, and more or less slid down the ladder. Coming to the door of the captain's cabin, Jack's heart leapt. He went sick as he was met by the sharp tips of five swords. Looking up from the tips of the blades, he came face to face with five of his crewmen. And they blocked the way to the captain's cabin whose doors were wide open. The White Swann cringed and the hulls moaned as another wave drenched everyone and everything.

“You will stand aside!” Jack's voice rang through the wind and rain. This could not be happening! It just could not! His imagination ran off and he pictured his baby – Will's baby – in his cot with his throat slashed. He tried to check his panic. He was the captain. He had to remain calm to retain authority.

“We will do nothing of the sort, Captain.” Just then, a sixth crew member appeared in the doorway, holding the wailing Jonathan by the blanket he had been wrapped in. By the looks of the sailor, it seemed he was clearing out vermin from an infested room. Seeing Jonathan alive prompted Jack to draw his cutlass, but he immediately realised how futile that was, considering he was outnumbered.

“We can't survive this storm, Captain” the crew member holding Jonathan proclaimed. “The storm is sent by God as punishment for your crimes. It's unnatural weather, and demons and creatures from the abyss ride the waves. Lightning and thunder shoots from the sky above. We must rid ourselves of this vile and unholy creature. And you – captain – must confess your sins to God and hope to receive a pardon. Though I suspect there is none, for the likes of you. You're a witch! You defile your holy soul by consorting with these demons, and you put ours at risk as well!” The crew members with their blades drawn forced Jack to back off.

“No!” Jack shouted, “you've got it all wrong! I tried to tell you! I am on God's side. I am trying to find a weapon to stop the demon –!”

“ – this ends now! God is raining fire and destruction down upon us, and to appease Him, we must sacrifice this unholy creature to the ocean!”

“NO!! No, you mustn't!” Jack screamed out. “He's my son, my boy!! He's done nothing against you! He's an infant, he's innocent!!”

“Down on your knees, witch, and repent your sins! We shall rid you of this incubus!” The crew with their blades pointed at him, shouted. Jack was in a panic. If they did throw the boy overboard, everything was over. Jack could gamble on throwing himself after the baby, hoping to catch him before the impact with the surface crushed Jonathan. Either way, he would die. And Jack was not going to be left behind. If Will Turner's baby was going to die, then so was Jack!! Jack watched as in slow motion, as the sailor holding Jonathan, swung his arm out over the railing. Jonathan cried sorely. His tiny arms were shaking from distress, those tiny, tiny fists opening and clenching, searching for something to hold on to. Jack saw the sailor’s hand open. He saw the fabric slip through the fingers. In slow motion, Jack saw the infant fall.
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Legends of the Treasure Child: Sparrow's Nest