Fall of Blue and Rise of Crimson

The Blue Thunder had always had a rival.

Their name was the Crimson Jaws, another pirate crew that had spent years competing with us across the Seven Seas. Whenever we heard that the Crimson Jaws were searching for a treasure, we would race to find it first. Whenever they discovered a lost relic, we would try to take it from them, and whenever we heard that one of our crews had crossed paths with the other, we knew that someone was probably going to end up with a blade in their back. We were rivals over treasure, but that rivalry had slowly become something much uglier. Neither crew was satisfied with simply being better than the other. Both captains wanted to see the other crew disappear for good.

Their captain was a man named Thomas Red Tongue.

The name came from a rather unpleasant habit of his. Thomas was known for drinking the blood of his victims, which had earned him a reputation that was almost as frightening as the Crimson Jaws themselves. Some sailors claimed he drank blood because he enjoyed the taste, while others believed it was simply a cruel habit he had developed to frighten his enemies. I never learned which story was true, and after what happened later, I decided I was perfectly happy not knowing.

Normally, meeting the Crimson Jaws would have meant another battle between two crews fighting over the same treasure. But when we finally crossed paths with them during the Wrathtide, the Blue Thunder was no longer the crew it had once been. The Dutchman’s Compass had dragged us through storm after storm, and by then our ship was damaged, our men were exhausted, and more than half of our crew had already been lost.

We could hardly stand.

The Crimson Jaws could see that.

Our captain could not.

He still believed that we could fight our way through anything, just as he always had. But there was a difference between courage and foolishness, and after everything we had suffered because of the compass, I think our captain had forgotten where that difference was.

The battle did not last long.

Many of my mates were killed, including our captain. The rest of us were captured and dragged aboard the Crimson Jaws as prisoners. Those who survived were not treated as much of a threat. We were too few, too exhausted, and too badly injured to cause any real trouble. As for me, I was only the cabin boy, so nobody seemed particularly worried about what I could do.

Honestly, I was grateful.

After everything I had been through, all I wanted was to see land again. I wanted to sleep somewhere that did not move beneath my feet. I wanted to eat something that had not been soaked in seawater, and more than anything, I wanted to stay as far away from the ocean as possible until the Wrathtide was over.

Then Thomas found the compass.

He had taken it from the wreckage of the Blue Thunder, and the moment he saw the strange markings on its brass casing, he knew what it was.

“The Dutchman’s Compass,” he said.

The crew gathered around him.

Thomas turned the artifact over in his hand, examining it carefully. He had heard the same legends we had. The compass was supposed to lead its bearer toward the greatest treasure in the world, but only those with a pure heart would be guided safely. Anyone whose heart was rotten would instead be led toward their demise.

Thomas stared at the compass for a while.

Then he laughed.

“I suppose there is no harm in finding out whether the old tales are true.”

One of his men looked uneasy. “Captain, perhaps you should hold it yourself.”

Thomas gave him a strange smile.

“Me?”

He tapped his chest.

“I am a pirate. Do I look like a man with a pure heart?”

Nobody answered.

Thomas laughed again.

“No, of course I’m not”

Unlike our captain, Thomas understood something very important. He knew exactly what kind of man he was. He was not interested in pretending that he was honorable, kind, or innocent. He knew he was a pirate, and he knew there was nothing pure about the life he had chosen.

So he decided that somebody else would test the compass for him.

One by one, he began choosing prisoners.

“Bring me someone who has done no great evil,” he ordered.

The first man was dragged forward.

Thomas placed the compass in his hands and watched the needle.

Nothing happened.

Then, suddenly, it began to shake.

Not slowly nor slightly.

It trembled so violently that the needle struck the glass covering again and again.

Thomas’s smile disappeared.

“Put him at the helm,” he ordered.

The man was taken toward the front of the ship and forced to guide the crew according to the compass. At first, the needle seemed to point somewhere ahead of us. But as soon as the ship followed its direction, the sea began to change.

The waves rose higher.

The wind became stronger.

The Crimson Jaws sailed straight toward another part of the Wrathtide that looked as though the ocean itself had opened its jaws.

Thomas watched the compass carefully.

Then he looked at the prisoner.

“So the legend is true.”

The man began pleading for his life.

Thomas did not listen.

He simply grabbed him and threw him overboard.

The rest of us stared in silence.

Thomas turned back toward the prisoners.

“Next.”

And so it continued.

One prisoner after another was forced to hold the Dutchman’s Compass. Every time the needle began to shake, the ship was ordered to follow it. Every time it led us toward another deadly part of the sea, Thomas came to the same conclusion.

The person holding it was not pure enough.

One by one, they were executed.

I watched everything from the deck, trying not to attract anyone’s attention. I had already seen what the compass could do to a person who was consumed by greed. Now I was watching what happened when someone who knew the legend tried to use it.

There was something different about it this time.

When our old captain had held the compass, I remembered the needle simply pointing toward one direction. It had never reacted like this. But with the Crimson Jaws’ prisoners, the needle shook violently whenever it rejected them.

Perhaps the compass reacted differently depending on how rotten a person’s heart truly was.

The worse the person, the more violently it seemed to react.

I found that thought strangely frightening.

After three days, three of my former mates had been executed.

There were very few prisoners left.

And with every person Thomas tested, the compass continued to fail them.

I knew what that meant.

Eventually, he would reach me.

I tried to make myself smaller whenever Thomas walked past. I kept my eyes down and prayed that he would forget I was there.

Unfortunately, the man sitting beside me had other plans.

He leaned toward one of the Crimson Jaws’ sailors and whispered something.

I looked at him and he looked away.

A moment later, Thomas turned toward me, skipping pass him.

“You.”

My stomach dropped.

Thomas pointed at me.

“Bring the cabin boy.”

I understood immediately what my former mate had done.

He had told Thomas that I was the pure one.

He had chosen me because he thought the compass would prove me innocent.

Or, more likely, he simply wanted to make sure it was not his turn.

The sailors grabbed me before I could move.

They dragged me across the deck and forced the compass into my hands.

The moment my fingers closed around it, I felt its cold metal against my palm.

I stared at the needle.

It was no longer someone else’s problem.

It was mine and I was terrified.

Because there was no good outcome waiting for me.

If the compass rejected me, I would be thrown into the sea just like the others.

And if it accepted me, then I would have to follow it.

After everything I had already experienced, I had given up on the Dutchman’s Compass a long time ago. I had seen where it led. I had watched it take people away from us one after another.

There comes a moment when even a fool has to stop and ask himself whether what he is about to do is completely stupid.

Unfortunately, that moment had come much too late for me.

And everyone aboard the Crimson Jaws was waiting to see where it would lead me.