Extra Darling

Chapter 30: Farewell to Innocence

Wendy's hand immediately flew to the small acorn necklace I had seen her clutch so many times these past days. Her eyes widened as she propped Michael up on her other knee. "Elaborate. Now, pirate."

"I've only ever heard about it in legend." He breathed, leaning forward on the table, "I don't even know how this is possible."
"How what's possible?" Wendy demanded.

Arthur shook his head, his thoughts churning madly, as he clasped his hands together on the table. His lack of words was making even me impatient. "Arthur."

His eyes were glassy, staring vacantly at his jeweled fingers, and the more I called his name the less responsive he became. It wasn't until I put my hand on his shoulder that I seemed to shake him out of whatever he was in. He looked over at me, breathless, and then around the table at the faces of the anxious Lost Boys.

"When I was younger," He began, "My Father left me on an island in the Caribbean to pursue what you all know he came to pursue. Like I've told Ophelia, I spent years of my life hopping islands. I heard stories from the men who travelled to far islands and around the world. Most of it was fables, things I had heard countless times around fire pits and drunken conversation, but some things stuck with me. Some things I overheard from the other pirates have proven useful, and I think now may be one of those times."

He pushed himself up from the table and ran his hands through his long, black hair, pacing back and forth. "There was a man who had returned from an island somewhere Northeast of England and went into the tavern bursting with stories about his travels. He spoke of the cold and unforgiving conditions they faced once they docked on the island, the sirens who lured many of his men to their deaths, and the deadly mirages that beckoned them into traps. They looted the island for what they came for, but they also had a run in with a marooned sailor, who told them he has been stuck on that island for nine hundred and seventeen days."

"Nine hundred seventeen days?" John scratched his head, adjusting his glasses, "But how? He could only live that long if he had the proper provisions, which I'm sure he didn't."
"He didn't." Arthur shook his head, "He nearly died for it. This sailor had come to the island with a crew of fifty men, but all of them had died in their quest."
"To what end?" Nibs asked, "Who would risk that much just to find some bloody cold island?"
"The sailor said he and his men were in search of a powerful wizard, a magician, who could perform for them a task that only the most powerful can complete."
The Twins shot up from the table, "A task that cost everyone their lives!"

I put a hand under my chin and looked up at a still pacing Arthur, "They're right. What is so important that this sailor gave up all his crew and almost his own life for?"

Arthur stopped pacing and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning his back against a wall. "Immortality."

None of us said anything in return. We all knew that immortality was impossible. Half of the boys probably didn't even know what it meant. Yes, it was true that Neverland allowed a child to cheat death by stopping the aging process, but it didn't make them entirely immortal. The slice of a blade or a fall from a tree could still kill someone. The thought of immortality was ridiculous, even for Neverland standards.

"I know what you're thinking." Arthur confirmed, pushing himself off the wall, "It's impossible. That's what I thought, until I heard what this pirate said."

He sat down beside me again and leaned his elbows on the table. "Immortality is possible. There is a legend that speaks of a mighty spell, one that can only be performed by a very powerful magician, that can create immortality. According to this legend, one must bring forth an object of great value to them. They bring the item to the magician, who then performs the spell to tie the person's soul to the object itself. So if anything happens to the person's mortal body..."
"Their soul lives on." I finished, feeling as bewildered as he looked, "In the object."
"Yes." Arthur grimly nodded, "But only for a time. You see, the hope in imbuing an object with one's soul is that in time, that object will be in the care of another. Say, a clueless adventurer who picks up a spyglass, or a merchant who handles a coin. Once another person touches the object with a soul inside, the soul can jump into the body and overtake it. The soul pushes away the other soul overtime until it becomes the dominant one. Until it has full control."