#ac bf

He heard James sit down on the sand next to him. The waves were licking at his feet. The sea hummed.

"You aren't."

"Aye," he responded. His mouth felt dry, but there was nothing but sand in the bottle he held in his hand.

"You're 'bout to be, if you don't get your arse up."

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Are you really gonna lay here 'till the crabs get you? There are things to do."

"It doesn't matter to you, ghost."

"I'm not really here, dummy. You're just very drunk and your brains' drying."

Edward laughed, bitter and dry. He felt tired. And not drunk enough.

"I know, the dead rarely visit. And I saw you die. You know, it's just me and Anne left, now. Everyone else is dead or arrested or fled to the land. Hah-hah, a merry life, not a long one. I'm trying to keep it merry, but the ghosts won't fucking leave me be."

There was sand thrown into his face. He sprang up and blinked furiously, his eyes watering. "Oh, you fucker, let me just-"

There was no one there. Just the sea spreading infinitely in every direction, about seven-ish gulls and one (or one and a half) palm tree. 

He laid back down and closed his eyes.

"I'm going to come back and kill you, if you die here," Kidd said. He was now sitting on the other side of Edward, and his voice came from a bit further away.

"That doesn't even mean anything."

"It means that you are not yet dead. You have a chance to get out of here."

"But you don't."

Kidd sounded upset. "Does it matter? What's done is done, no reason to wallow in it. You can still leave. Leave the past behind. There is time."

"Until there isn't."

"You don't know yours is up."

"I don't care for mine. Yours - everyone else's'- is up. I don't want to be alone."

"You are not alone. Anne is there. Adéwalé too, even if he left the life. Tell me, what did you even come to the sea for?"

"For money. To give my wife a better life. For both of us."

Edward sighed.

"No. I did it for me. I felt trapped on land, inside four walls, crushed between the floor and the ceiling. I wanted to taste adventure. Feel the wind on my face. See and taste everything. Become rich and feared. Be free."

"Is that what you still want?"

"This adventure is over. I'm just a crazy drunk talking to a phantom."

"Oh, I can't stand you. You are not alone, Edward. You can't just give up."

"Everywhere I go I bring death and destruction. It's better for everyone if I stay here."

He heard footsteps on the sand. Kidd walked around him. 

"What even is this place? How did you get here?"

"I honestly have no memory. An island, somewhere in the Caribbean."

"There is a ship on the horizon."

"It'll pass."

"It's heading this way.”

“It won’t see us.”

“It won’t see you if you don’t get up.”

“There is nothing waiting for me.”

“Not if you stay on this fucking island. You’re still alive. Don’t waste it.”

Edward was silent for a while. The waves brushed gently over his feet, the cool water soothing on his feverish skin. The tide was coming in. He wondered if the sea would swallow the island entirely, leaving only the palm tree sticking up into the skies like a mast of a sail boat.

“I feel like an island myself.”

“Then build some bridges. Go home. Find new people to love. The world is full of castaways. Find them. Let the waves swallow the past and keep looking at the horizon.”

“If I do, will we meet again?”

“When you are ready. Perhaps. But you’re not done yet, and I’m seriously gonna kick your arse if you let yourself die now.”

Slowly, Edward opened his eyes and saw the golden disc called the sun about to dip below the sea and its last rays hitting the sails of a small brigantine. His head was pounding. The ship was indeed getting closer. He got on his wobbly feet. 

“Help,” he croaked. He waved his hands over his head and yelled until his voice was almost gone. The ship lowered sails. 

“Yes! Hah!” he triumphed and fell back to the sand. A row boat was lowered to the waves and Edward saw two men starting to row it towards him. He closed his eyes, exhausted.

“Go. Live. We’ll wait for you here,” he heard Kidd’s low voice somewhere close to him.

“How is everyone? Blackbeard? Jack?”

“Happy. Free. But it will get boring, always seeing the same fuckers around the campfire. Be sure to have some more adventures, so you have some new stories to share once you join us.”

Edward smiled. The thought, memories of his friends around a campfire, made him happy. They made him sad. He missed them. “Aye.”

He heard the boat approaching. Someone yelled something, asked if he was alright, but he didn’t dare to join the land of the living just yet.

There were footsteps on the sand, getting further away.

“See you around, Kenway.”

Suddenly he didn't want her to go just yet. He wanted to cling to the moment, to the memories, to her, to the sea and its waters, to freedom and his friends, who were already gone and rotting. He feared being alone.

“Mary. I-”

The boat reached the shore, and he heard a man jumping into the water. He opened his eyes hesitantly. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, before getting into the boat with the men who turned out to be merchants heading to Havana. They laughed at his story, and he was promised a ride to the harbor. The ship raised its sails and sailed off, leaving behind the small island in the middle of the ocean. If Edward hadn’t been so out of it, maybe he might have noticed the other set of footsteps on the sand beside his own. Or when the island disappeared behind the horizon, he might have seen the soft glow of a campfire and the people singing and laughing around it under the open, starry skies beneath which they were free, free, free.

But he didn’t. 

In a few hours, the entire shoal was swallowed by the tide, with only the lonely palm tree sticking up into the skies.