The Black Buccaneer - Chapter - 29

The Sea Phantom cut through the dark waters like a ghostly specter, its newly repaired sails billowing in the strong Caribbean winds. The ship was sleek, powerful, and fast—worthy of bearing the banner of Captain Black. The moon cast its silver glow over the deck, where the crew, both old and new, moved with precision.

Captain Black stood at the helm, his long coat billowing behind him as he surveyed his men. Half of them were his seasoned veterans, men who had sailed with him through countless battles, men who had sworn their loyalty through blood and oath. The other half were fresh recruits from Tortuga, eager to serve under his command, not just because of the promise of riches, but because of the legend that surrounded him.

For many pirates, sailing under Captain Black was both an honor and a terror—an honor because his name was known across the seas, and a terror because many who sailed under him never returned. But the ones who did return? They came back richer than kings.

Morgan, Captain Black’s trusted first mate, watched the crew with a satisfied grin. He approached Henry with an approving nod.

"They’re good men," Morgan said, leaning against the railing. "The new ones, I mean. Quick learners, and they’re eager. No discipline issues so far."

Henry smirked. "That’s because they know who they’re sailing under. They’ve heard the stories."

Morgan chuckled. "Aye, and those stories have done half the work for us. You should have seen their faces when they found out they were being recruited for your crew. Some of them thought they were about to sign a contract with the devil himself."

Henry let out a low laugh. "Well, I suppose I do have that effect on people."

Morgan nodded toward the horizon. "We’re on course for Isla de Muerta. If the winds stay favorable, we’ll be there in a few days."

Henry's eyes darkened as he gazed at the distant horizon. "Good. That cursed treasure has stayed hidden for too long."

Despite the excitement among the new recruits, there was a quiet fear that lingered in the air. Even the most hardened pirates knew the stories about Isla de Muerta—a place of death and curses, where men went in but never came out.

Late at night, whispers passed between the new crew members.

"You really think it’s true?" one of them muttered to another. "That the treasure is cursed?"

"Aye," another whispered. "They say men who touch the gold become monsters. Undead creatures, cursed to walk the earth forever."

A third pirate scoffed. "Bah, curses are just stories. Captain Black wouldn't be going after it if it were real."

At that moment, Morgan stepped in and silenced them with a glare.

"If I were you," he said in a low, dangerous voice, "I’d keep my mouth shut about curses. You’re sailing with Captain Black now. That means you don’t question his orders. If he says we’re going to that island, then we’re going. End of discussion."

The pirates fell silent, nodding quickly.

Later that night, Henry stood alone on the deck, staring out at the vast ocean. He ran his fingers over the Black family heir ring on his finger, a reminder of the life he had left behind.

"Magic, curses, the undead… none of it is new to me."

He had spent years in the wizarding world, learning secrets far darker than any pirate legend. He knew that magic was unpredictable, and so were the curses that bound the gold on Isla de Muerta.

But unlike the superstitious men aboard his ship, he wasn’t afraid.

"I am Sirius Black. I am Captain Black. And I have no need of any treasure."

With a smirk, he turned away from the sea. The hunt was on.

The Sea Phantom battled its way through treacherous waters as it neared the legendary Isla de Muerta. The sea had grown violent, the waves thrashing against the hull with an unnatural fury. Thunder rumbled overhead, though no storm could be seen in the sky.

Morgan gripped the railing beside Sirius as the island finally came into view—a dark, jagged landmass surrounded by eerie mist. It should not have been visible to the untrained eye, yet Sirius knew exactly where to sail.

Morgan exhaled sharply. "I don’t like this place, Captain."

Sirius smirked, adjusting his coat. "Good. That means you’re not an idiot."

The men were already on edge, muttering amongst themselves about ghosts and curses. But none dared question Captain Black’s orders. He had led them this far, and they knew better than to disobey him.

As the Sea Phantom dropped anchor, small boats were lowered into the water, and Sirius led the first group through the eerie darkness. They rowed toward the cavernous tunnel entrance that led to the heart of the island—the legendary hoard of Cortés.

The tunnel walls dripped with moisture, the dim glow of torches flickering against the damp rock. As the boats moved deeper, the sound of gold clinking together could be heard, echoing ominously.

When they emerged into the vast chamber, a gasp rippled through the crew.

It was a mountain of treasure.

Gold, silver, jewels, ancient artifacts from a hundred different cultures—wealth beyond measure. Swords encrusted with rubies, goblets of pure silver, and crowns from fallen kingdoms lay in shimmering piles.

The pirates stood frozen for a moment, their eyes wide in disbelief. Even the greediest among them had never seen such a sight.

"By the gods…" one of the men whispered.

Morgan, usually composed, muttered, "I’ve never seen this much gold in one place."

Sirius, however, remained unimpressed. His gaze was locked onto the center of the chamber, where a single golden trunk rested on a raised stone pedestal. He recognized it immediately.

"The cursed gold."

His men, however, had no interest in curses—only treasure.

Sirius clapped his hands together, his voice sharp. "Take everything. Except that." He pointed to the golden trunk.

The men hesitated for a moment, some of them eyeing the trunk with curiosity. But they were seasoned pirates; they knew that when Captain Black gave an order, it was to be followed.

"Aye, Captain!"

Within moments, the chamber erupted into chaos as the pirates rushed forward, stuffing their pockets, filling sacks, and carrying chests back to the boats. The sheer volume of treasure meant they would have to make several trips.

Morgan, standing beside Sirius, raised an eyebrow. "You’re just going to leave that?"

Sirius smirked. "Do you want to live forever, Morgan?"

Morgan scoffed. "Not if it means turning into a walking corpse."

Sirius nodded. "Then leave it."

As the men worked tirelessly, Sirius felt it—people were here recently.

His years of wandless magic training and innate paranoia told him something wasn’t right. He scanned the cavern, eyes narrowed.

There were no bodies.

If this place had been abandoned, why weren’t there any signs of a fight? No bones, no discarded weapons, no wreckage of a battle. Only treasure left untouched.

It was as if whoever had been here vanished into thin air.

Sirius muttered under his breath, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Something’s wrong."

Morgan noticed his change in demeanor. "What is it?"

Sirius glanced at the dark tunnels leading deeper into the island. "We’re not alone."

Morgan stiffened. "You think someone’s still here?"

Sirius didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he bent down and picked up a half-buried pistol—still loaded. The metal was not rusted, which meant it had been left here recently.

"Someone was here," Sirius murmured, standing up. "And I don’t think they went willingly."

Morgan swore under his breath. "So what do we do?"

Sirius glanced at the men, who were still eagerly looting the cavern. He made his decision.

"We take everything we can carry and leave—quickly."

Morgan didn’t argue. He turned and barked orders at the crew, "You heard the Captain! Move faster!"

The pirates doubled their efforts, sensing the tension in the air.

Sirius took one last look at the cursed trunk before turning away.

"Let’s not stick around to see who—or what—comes back for it."

As the last boats were filled with treasure, the crew rowed frantically back to the Sea Phantom. They hoisted the cargo aboard as fast as they could, while Sirius kept his eyes on the mist-covered island.

There was no movement, no sign of pursuit.

But the feeling of being watched never left him.

Once everything was loaded, Sirius grabbed the helm. "Raise anchor. We leave now."

The Sea Phantom sailed swiftly away from Isla de Muerta, its hull laden with treasure, but Sirius Black felt no satisfaction. The gold was never the reason he had come.

He stood at the helm, gripping the wheel as the salty wind whipped through his long coat. Morgan stood beside him, arms crossed, watching their captain’s expression.

"You don’t look pleased for a man who just walked away with a fortune," Morgan remarked.

Sirius exhaled. "Because I didn’t come here for the treasure."

Morgan glanced back at the piles of gold and artifacts being secured below deck. "Then what the hell did we just risk our necks for?"

Sirius didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze lingered on the misty island growing smaller in the distance.

"Jack Sparrow," he said finally. "I came to find him."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Sparrow? You owe him something?"

Sirius’s lips pressed into a thin line. "You could say that."

Sirius rarely spoke about his past, and even Morgan, who had been with him for years, knew little about what had come before Captain Black.

The truth was, Jack Sparrow had saved Sirius’s life once.

The first time Sirius had arrived in this timeline, he was nothing but a desperate man, lost in a world he didn’t belong to. He had no wand, no allies, and no knowledge of the sea. He was as good as dead.

It was Jack Sparrow who taught Sirius how to fish, how to sail, how to fight with a sword. It was Jack who gave him a name and a purpose when Sirius had nothing. Without him, Sirius would have starved on some forgotten stretch of land, reduced to nothing more than a nameless corpse on a deserted island.

But Sirius knew better than to show too much gratitude.

Jack Sparrow wasn’t the kind of man to help others for free. He was clever, opportunistic, and knew how to milk a favor for all it was worth.

If you owed Jack something, he would make sure you paid for it.

That was why Sirius had never spoken about it. He never said thank you, never admitted the debt he carried.

Jack wasn’t a man you let know your weaknesses.

But despite all that, Sirius had still come for him.

Because Jack was in trouble—and Sirius wasn’t the kind of man to ignore that.

"Sparrow is a survivor," Morgan said, breaking the silence. "If he’s alive, he’ll find a way out of whatever mess he’s in."

Sirius nodded. "I know. But this isn’t just about Jack."

Morgan glanced at him. "It’s about the girl, isn’t it?"

Sirius smirked slightly. "Elizabeth?" He shook his head. "Not like that. I like her—she’s smart, she’s brave. But she’s not for me."

Morgan looked unconvinced. "Then why go through all this trouble?"

Sirius leaned on the wheel, his dark eyes thoughtful. "Because she reminds me of someone I knew once. Someone stubborn. Someone who refused to be trapped by expectations."

Morgan sighed. "And what about Turner?"

Sirius’s expression hardened. "I have no interest in Will Turner."

He had nothing against the young blacksmith. In fact, he respected his determination. The boy had stolen a ship, betrayed his home, and thrown himself into the most dangerous waters in the world for love.

Sirius had seen love drive men to madness.

James Potter had died for love.

Regulus Black had thrown away everything for loyalty.

And now, Will Turner was sailing straight into the jaws of the dead for Elizabeth Swann.

It was admirable, but doomed.

Will was too lowborn, too inexperienced. The world would never allow him to be with Elizabeth. But that didn’t matter—because Will didn’t care.

And Sirius could respect that.

"Will’s love for Elizabeth is real," Sirius admitted. "But it’s built on a foundation that will crumble."

Morgan watched him carefully. "And yet, he’s willing to fight the world for her."

Sirius smirked. "Aye. And that’s why I know he’s worth saving."

Morgan straightened. "So what’s the plan?"

Sirius turned the wheel slightly, adjusting their course. "We find the Black Pearl. We find Jack, and we get Elizabeth back. And then… we see what fate has planned for Will Turner."

Morgan nodded. "And what about the cursed gold?"

Sirius’s smirk turned dangerous. "Let’s just say… I’d rather let the dead keep their treasure."

The Sea Phantom sailed on, cutting through the darkness, chasing the ghosts of fate.