90. A Pirate's Funeral

Cris and his small crew are among the many who have gone to pay their final respects to The Captain as he is prepared to be laid to rest out at sea.
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            The sun was beginning to set on a group of pirates who stood along the edge of the island in silence, staring at the small boat sitting on the shore, bearing the body of the man they all knew as The Captain. Among them stood an auburn hair elf who stood in silence with is crew behind him. The blue troll with pink hair stood over the now wrapped body, speaking in Trollish, uttering prayers of mourning.
            As soon as the troll finished her prayers, she took a step away and looked at the elf. An old human woman, known as Dalaena, The Captain’s long time mistress, gently touched his shoulder and offered him a somber smile. The elf nodded and took a few steps toward the boat that contained the body. He took a deep breath turned to look at the small crowd of unfavorable characters, ranging from humans, to elves, to goblins. For a moment, he felt at home with these scallywags. They were his family. They were the ones who knew his troubles with the sea and the armed forces, and they didn’t think any less of him.
            “Years ago, a young man patted my back at my after my father’s death and led me out of Stormwind, at my father’s request. We walked all the way to Booty Bay in silence until he told me ‘I ain’t your father. I will never be your father, but I promised I would take care of you, and I ain’t never gone back on my word.’ I looked at this bearded man and realized that he was right; he was never going to be my father, but he did become my mentor. He taught me the hardships and the beauty of the ocean. He taught me that even though we may be the most despised creatures out at sea, we are still alive and we’re only doing what we must to survive, even if that means blasting a few bastards out of the water.”
            The elf’s words caused a bit of an uproar among the crowd as they cheered and agreed.
            “But I know he wasn’t just my mentor. He was yours, and yours, and yours.” He pointed at different pirates. “He taught us to fight. He taught us to take what we wanted. He taught us that while there are wenches in this world, the loyalty of one woman, regardless of her occupation or background, is the most amazing thing in the world.” He looked at the elderly looking woman with peppered hair and smiled. “Dalaena, you knew that The Captain wasn’t a one woman man, and yet, I do know that despite his constant bragging, your loyalty to him forced him to be loyal to you. He didn’t believe in marriage, but he believed in loyalty and companionship, and I know that deep down inside, he loved you as much as you love him.”
            The human woman smiled and nodded silently, crystalline tears rolling down her wrinkled face. The troll with pink hair wrapped her arm around the woman and comforted her.
            “You were one of the best, old man,” the elf said as he turned to the wrapped body in the small wooden boat. “And while you never wore medals of honor or fought under anyone’s banner except your own, you will always be a hero amongst us. You will always be as great as a Lord or noble, minus the fucking outfits and dainty tea parties.” Another roar of cheers and laughter emerged from the crowd. The elf wiped his eye-filled tears and took a deep breath, preparing to say the words he had heard before at many pirate funerals.
           
            Too late for retribution – all too late
            The hour that sweeps the pirate to his fate! –
            No holy thought shall ‘suage the burning tear,
            No friend weep o’er the Pirate’s lonely bier;

            With the help of his goblin friend, several dwarves, humans, and elves, the men saluted the wrapped body and together, they pushed the boat off into the sea. As soon as the ship was floating on the calm sea, the auburn haired elf lit the dry sticks and grass that served as The Captain’s deathbed and a flame began to light up the beach that dusk was starting to darken. With one more push, the small, lit boat floated out into the sea as a wail of cries from Dalaena and other women broke the silence along the beach.

            No church bell sound a passing funeral knell,
            No requiem on the wild waves, gently swell;
            No green mound rise above his lowly bed,
            No tomb-stone mark the resting of the dead;--

            The elf continued to follow the boat out into the sea until his feet were struggling to touch the sandy bottom. The sea air blew through his hair as he watched his mentor’s body drift away, the flames growing brighter and larger. He took a deep breath and ran his wet hands through his mane. That would be the last time he ever saw his mentor again.

            Unwept, unbless’d – “damn’d to eternal fame,”
            His only legacy – a Pirate’s name!*

            He knew that he wasn’t the kind of pirate The Captain wanted him to be, but he always appreciated his advice and most importantly, the protection that only a fatherly figure could give him. He chuckled softly and sighed as he whispered, “You were always a softie to me, asshole.” Taking a few steps back toward the shore, he looked at the burning boat one more time. “Thank you, you old, mangy dog.”
            Cristianno walked back to the crowd on the beach and offered a solemn smile as he hugged Dalaena. The drinking and bonfires would continue as the pirates prepared to tell their own stories about The Captain, but to Cristianno, another chapter of his life had come to a close and another father figure had walked out of his life.





* Take from Army and Navy Chronicle Vol. 1 by Benjamin Homans, 1835

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