A Karmic Sandbox (karmasoup) wrote,
A Karmic Sandbox
karmasoup

A Kind of Revolution

Elemental Treasure

That Queen Bitch labled him a Pirate.  He who served the king with honor, who scoured the known continents and braved the unknown to assuage her petty and salacious appetites.  He who gave his dying breath to safeguard the people of this land, a land that never accepted him within its folds, that which banished him to the sea.  Aye, but the sea would take him in, Cpt. Braden MacLachlan.  The righteous, the mighty, the brave – fighter, lover, father, friend.

Pirate indeed.  She knew naught of pirates when she besmirched him so, and defiled his family name.  But she will, that wretched blackhearted daughter of a fleabitten cur.  She will know the terror of the sea.  She will feel my wrath.
For I am the plague of the deep.

He brandishes the straw that stirs trouble in the drink, and I wield the sword that keeps it.  I am the woe that betides the lands, that meets the bairn bewarned.  I will right the wrong that was beset upon us, and all those who followed in his stead, who gave their lives at his behest.

*****


The usurper's forces were no match for my brigands wherever we met them from every corner of the ocean.  Heavy lies the head that wears the crown?  Aye, if only that weight would carry it to the bottom of the ocean floor.  But where I cannot get hers, I will send theirs.  What care I for plunder?  Let the men fill their vitals with women and wine.  Let them bathe in the regalia of victory, if it pleases them to do so.  There is only one treasure I seek, and it is not found on any voyage.  Nay, she would not so easily part with the Book of Blood, that logs the list of men she calls pirates and traitors, whom the people revere as saviors – those who defended the crown she stole with their very lives.

Each appellation of the crew of heroes is written there in his own blood, the blood of his family, of the peoples lost and sacrificed to her ambition.  So I will ransack the whole of creation, if need be, in search of the elements of her undoing, for she knows not that she carries it upon herself, so close to her breast.  A drop of that blood from the remains of these houses I gather, one lineage at a time.  She will come to know that there are some forces stronger than greed, some magics greater by far than the sorcery of her throne.  When the bloods of each soul meet the ink of the pardon her poisoned husband passed on to the leader of the rebellion, the guardian of the kingdom – a pardon she spent armies seeking to destroy, and cultures trying to undo – she will know a hell that has not been spoken of this side of heaven since the good Lord rested on his seventh day, and her scapegoat will have back his title, his honor, and his eternal rest.  This I vow, on my slaughtered father's slandered name.

*****


He wanted not this life for me, my father. 

But he bestowed in me fortitude, clarity, dignity, and valor, and I will use
these in his stead on his behalf.  Right he would be to gloat of his skill at arms, though never he did.  For whilst a prisoner aboard the flagship of his majesty's fleet need fear less the split of his bowels with steel than the nod of his head overboard, lest he be bored to death by the captain's wagging tongue, even so, stories of his follies he proclaimed with boisterous laughter, and of his peoples he boasted lavishly, yet a braggart he was not.

Yes, a gentle man was my father.  A good man.  A noble man.

Highborn was he, could have taken familial stock from amongst his pick of the finest patricians, but a wandering heart and a love of adventure brought him to the edge of the world, and to my Mother's bosom.  He thought himself fortunate that the MacLachlan birthright would pass him over, as otherwise he'd naught have been permitted to wed his one true love.  For in her eyes and her heart, he found a stillness the sea would never grant him.

But there was a fire there, too, born of gypsy blood, and though he had hoped his allegiance to the King would have saved the dearest treasures of his heart from the trials of a nomadic journey through this mortal coil, if he could see me now, surely he would know that the fates cannot be challenged, and the gods have sealed my destiny.  Yes, all who fear my pirate vengeance know I was born to ravage the tempest.  I am damned to the wilds of the great expansive black.  I thank whatever rules beyond the skies that my good mother was laid to rest before she could know my wretched wickedness, nor how much I revel in it.  I can only hope my father does not curse the path into which I sold my soul to save his, denied the watery grave that was his right, and which before long, gods willing, shall be mine.

Father, may I find for you the peace that you deserve, and may you forgive me for what I must do to take it.

*****


At night I hear his voice in the gale, a silent siren that speaks the name none living now know.

When the royal consort's parlay was a treachery, a sacred pact dishonored among lesser men, I felt his strength in my veins as their raiders ambushed my flanks.  Their numbers were greater, but their hearts were weak.  Their fear is their undoing.  They have no loyalty or ardor, no creed or code, no fury in their bellies, no guts in their guts.  The boiling of my beating organ, fueled by the rage of his loins, hardened my ragged crew to triumph that day.

When there is no wind, but our sails are filled, it is his breath that drives us to meet our fortune.  When the whispers of legend and the slivers of cartographers' faded
memories leads us to nowhere, but the flight of the crow flies the way to truth, it is his beacon that draws our attention.  When our stores are thin, our bellies lean, our fires cold, our spirits low, somehow he stirs us, and we prevail. He is reaching out to me, walking the plank, stretching his essence across the great divide from the great beyond.

Farther, faster, deeper, wider, he urges.


Whither you call me, father, I go.
Wherever you lead me, I will follow. 

Forging ever forward for you, my captain, my sire.  Yo-Ho!



LJ Idol | Season 8 • Week 21 - Topic: INTERSECTION - "BRIDGE"
This post has been brought to you by an association with the online writing community forum, LJ Idol.

The work here represents one half of the collaborative effort put forth by "ContentKarma," the creative team of KarmaSoup and m_malcontent.

The challenge was to choose a partner with whom to create an "Intersection of correlated entries.
As our fates are entertwined, be sure to check out his perspective on this theme:
Deceived, Deceased, and Disculpated
.

If you have enjoyed this entry, please feel free to speak your piece, share the love, and pass it on...
                                                                                                                                                                                   ...and thanks for stopping by.

Tags: fiction, fix this, flocked, highlights, intersection, lj idol, lji8, nsfm
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