I awoke to the sound of bells, my head throbbing like I’d been run through by a cannonball. There was a foul taste in my mouth, and the gentle splash of waves rocked me as I rolled over. Between the ringing in my head and those damned bells, it was hard to focus on anything. But I knew this place—I’d been here before. The towering steeple, the stained glass, and those unmistakable bells could only mean one thing: I was in the Holy Land.
It was as if I’d woken up from a dream. The last few months, the maze, the creatures, all of it seemed like a distant memory. How did I get here? The last thing I remembered was standing at the celebration, watching that woman walk away. Was the food poisoned? Or had it all been some fevered dream?
I reached into my pocket, expecting to find my Captain’s Challenge Coin, but instead, I pulled out the piece of parchment. My stomach sank. How could I explain such madness to anyone? Talking beasts, a maze that twisted time itself. I’d be called a heretic—bad enough I’m already a pirate.
I scrambled up the hill as fast as these old legs would carry me. There are plenty of islands across the 8 Seas that would see a pirate like me swinging from a rope, but the clergy here—those who maintained this monument to the gods—were different. They accepted anyone in need, even scoundrels like me.
Once inside, I collapsed onto a bench, my mind racing with the events of the past months. Maybe Elias had been right all along. I’d pushed him into this fool’s quest, and I could only hope the lad found his way out of that damned maze. I sat there for hours, lost in thought—thinking of the good times with the crew, only to be consumed by doubt. I wasn’t any closer to finding Skalebreaker or the Pearl than when I’d started. This journey was wearing on me.
After what felt like an eternity, a clergyman approached. He looked me over with a calmness that only these holy folk seem to have. “You look like you’ve had a long journey, my friend,” he said softly. “What brings you here?”
Before I could stop myself, the whole story came pouring out—every strange, cursed detail was unloaded onto him as we strolled around the holy grounds. I told him about the cats, the labyrinth, and the celebration that seemed too good to be true. The man didn’t flinch, not once. He just listened, like he’d heard such tales before, as if it were all part of some grand design.
When I’d finished, he stood and walked over to a table with candles—one flame for each of my lost crew. From beside the candles, he grabbed a crucifix and offered it to me.
“You know what you need to do,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Your journey is yours and yours alone. No man in a robe can tell you your fate.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving me standing there with the weight of his words pressing down on me. I looked at the item in my hand, and I knew he was right. The decision was mine.
Do I retreat back to One-Eyed Isle, or do I push forward into the unknown, continuing this cursed quest for Skalebreaker and the Pearl of the Nifty Seas?
I sat in that quiet place, torn between what was easy and what was right.
