An Unearned Reprieve

::17 Years Ago::
 
“It’s done. And maybe I’m a coward for doing it and running rather than standing with my crew and being executed with them.” James Saint Mirth, stood by a simple shrine near the port. A hidden area where one could get away from people and talk privately with the Wave-Master. “Maybe I should have done this in your temple in town. But again, maybe I’m too cowardly. If anyone in there recognized me, or guessed my name, I probably wouldn’t leave there alive.”
 
He looked out to the ocean, several islands in the distance but his eyes look far to the east, back to where home was, back to Castille and more simple times. “I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, and no right to seek it. So I’ll do neither. I don’t even know how to start atoning for what I’ve done. Maybe turning in my crew, ship, and our hideout location to the Royal Navy will help a little. Maybe shave a tiny bit off of what I deserve. But let's not kid ourselves. I deserve what's going to happen to them more than they do, because I'm the one that lead them. I was the Captain. And here I am condemning them to a fate I cannot face myself."
 
His vision turned blurry as tears of grief, pain and self loathing streamed down his cheeks. "Five years. For five years I've committed atrocities. For five years I've lead others in a quest to fill the ocean with blood and gold. And I would be doing it still now if…" His voice caught, almost choking as he remembered the face of that kid. The terror, the relief, the surprise, the pain, and finally the light in his eyes going out.
 
"I've now condemned my friends to the gallows. I've sent the Royal Navy to hang them all. I wish she could understand, Salihn, my amada, I’m sorry. I know your eyes, and what they'll look like when you see those sails on the horizon charging to our island. I know that you'll be confused, then you'll fight, rallying all of the crew in a futile effort to get the ship ready. I know you'll fail. Maybe, if they’re all lucky, they’ll die in the fighting, never knowing I betrayed them. Betrayed her. Maybe they'll get lucky and die under a broadside from a frigate or two, like we always said we would."
 
Sobs wracked his body, his legs giving out and sending him kneeling into the sand. "I'm so sorry amada, but I can't do this any more. We did what we had to do in the beginning, did only what was just and right. But that lasted the barest bit of a moment. Then we let vengeance take us, consume us. We let madness guide us. And we left a charnel house in our wake. So much blood. So many dead. We didn't care what their intentions were, we didn't care if they were good people. All that mattered was that they were highborn. Just like all the others who'd ground us under heel, who'd taken us, hurt us, abused us, tortured us. They were all the same to us, and so they all had to die."
 
After what felt like an eternity, his tears stopped falling. James didn't feel like he'd earned a reprieve, or forgiveness. No he knew that would take several lifetimes to earn. But he felt he might have earned a chance. "Storm Father, I ask you now, this most unworthy of persons. One who has maimed, destroyed, ruined lives and murdered innocents, I ask that I be allowed to see my family one last time before you take me to the depths for what I've done. Just that. Let me hold them, thank them, tell them I love them. After that, I'll gladly walk into the waves or sail to the deepest part of your waters, and let you take what I rightly owe you."
 
James spoke with a very soft, but steady voice. "But if you decide that I am not worthy of even that, I will understand. Let whatever ship I'm on be spared from whatever fate is meant for me, and may my family never know what I've become, and what I did."
 
Taking off the last things he had, a signet ring, and a few pieces of gold, and one beautiful and exotic shell that his amada, his beloved, had given him. He left them at the shrine, in the sand. He'd already had every scar and tattoo removed. Many of those markings would give him away in an instant. He could still feel where the flag tattoo had been. His flag. But now, all that remained was perfectly unblemished skin.
 
“And now I go to face whatever justice a coward like me deserves.” The sun was setting behind him, the beautiful lights of it gliding over the surface of the water as he looked toward the coming of night. “Ship sails in a couple hours, with the tide. And in a few days, the Royal Navy ships will sail for our island. I’ll see you all again, when my debt gets called in.” With that James got up, and brushed the sand off his pants. A last few tears formed and fell. He caught them with his thumb, and then rubbed the wetness against the shrine. “Salt water is the cure for everything. And I submit myself to it’s judgment.”
 
James walked back through the island jungle, toward the port on this island. To the ship he’d already bartered passage on, saying that he’d been a local pilot and ship guide for the last five years. If they knew, they’d turn him in for the reward. But now, James left his fate to the Gods, and accepted whatever judgment they cast down for him as he left those islands for the last time.