Rowan cycled home from the secluded beach, his heart still pounding with excitement over his discovery. The coin—cool, heavy, and ancient-looking—rested in his pocket like a hidden secret, and he couldn't wait to show it to his mother. After years of sifting through bottle caps and rusted nails, he'd finally found something special. Something real.
Bursting through the front door of their small, cozy house, Rowan called out, "Mom! You'll never believe what I found!"
Carina Jones, Rowan's mother, was in the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel when she looked up, her usual calm demeanor breaking into a curious smile. "Oh? Another 'treasure' from the beach?"
Rowan grinned and pulled the coin from his pocket, holding it up for her to see. It gleamed in the kitchen light, its strange markings catching her attention immediately. Carina took it carefully, her eyes narrowing as she turned it over in her hands. "Well, this is... actually impressive, Rowan. It looks old."
"It has these weird symbols on it," Rowan said, leaning over to point at the intricate runes etched into the metal. "Maybe it's an old coin or something! I thought it looked cool."
Carina examined the coin a little longer, an odd glint of interest in her eye. "If it's valuable, we could probably sell it to a collector. Maybe it's even worth a little something." She looked up at him, her expression both hopeful and practical. "What do you think?"
Rowan's heart sank a little at the thought. "But, Mom… I wanted to keep it. I mean, it's my first real find. Everything else I've dug up has been junk." He reached for the coin, holding it up as if protecting a secret. "I'd like to have it as a keepsake. It's… you know, kind of cool."
Carina gave him a soft smile, her eyes glancing over the strange symbols again. "Well, all right. If it means that much to you, I suppose you should keep it. Just don't lose it, okay?"
Rowan beamed. "Thanks, Mom. I'll make sure I don't."
That evening, he found himself in his room, staring at the coin as he lay on his bed, a small lamp casting a golden glow over it. The symbols—twisting runes that looked almost like waves or currents—fascinated him. They seemed to pulse in the lamplight, giving off a strange energy he couldn't quite explain. It wasn't like anything he'd seen before, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it might have come from some hidden part of history, a time or place beyond the ordinary.
Rowan wanted to keep the coin close. He carefully made a small hole in it, threading a sturdy black cord through, fashioning it into a simple pendent. As he tied it around his neck, he felt a surge of satisfaction. This was his treasure, his discovery—a little piece of mystery he could carry with him.
He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the coin than just an old piece of metal. Determined to learn more, he decided to visit the Ashmere Library. The library wasn't large, but it was old and well-respected in Ashmere for its collection on local history and tales of the sea. Rowan had often heard people say that if you were looking for stories about pirates, shipwrecks, or old nautical legends, the library was the place to go.
He pushed open the library's heavy wooden doors, the faint smell of old paper and polished wood welcoming him inside. Mrs. Halloway, the librarian, looked up from her desk and gave him a small smile. "Looking for something special today, Rowan?"
"Yeah, actually," Rowan said, glancing around. "Do you have any books on old coins or sea artifacts? I found something I'm trying to figure out."
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why, yes, we have a whole section on maritime history. Over by the west wall—there's a shelf dedicated to shipwrecks, pirate lore, and relics of the sea. I'll show you."
Rowan followed her through rows of bookshelves until they reached a dimly lit section, tucked away from the busier parts of the library. Here, dusty volumes lined the shelves, their spines labeled with words like Tales of the Deep and Maritime Myths of the Southern Coast.
"Start here," she said, gesturing to a few books on a lower shelf. "You'll find some history on artifacts recovered from shipwrecks. Let me know if you need anything else."
"Thank you!" Rowan replied, already reaching for a thick, worn book titled Treasures of the Sea: Lost and Found. Settling down at a nearby table, he began leafing through its pages, scanning for any mention of coins like the one around his neck.
Page after page, Rowan found himself drawn into stories of ancient vessels and daring pirates. He read about captains who had hidden their fortunes in secret coves and of ships lost to mysterious storms. But none of the descriptions quite matched the coin he had found.
Finally, a few pages in, he came across a passage that caught his eye:
The Infamous Captain Eldritch Gosling: Scourge of the Southern Seas. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. Eldritch Gosling was no ordinary pirate—his reputation was legendary, spoken about in hushed tones even centuries after his time. Rowan had heard bits and pieces of the name before, passed down through local legends, but seeing it here, in print, made it all feel much more real.
The page featured a drawing of Captain Gosling's ship, a sleek, dark vessel that seemed to glide through the rough waves like a shadow. Below it was a detailed sketch of its flag, flying proudly from the mast—a jagged, swirling design with intricate curves and points that immediately caught Rowan's eye. It wasn't exactly like the runes on his coin, but it was strikingly similar. The symbols had the same twisting style, almost like ocean waves curling in on themselves.
Rowan's hand went to his neck, touching the coin beneath his shirt, as if to reassure himself that it was still there. Was it possible that this coin could be connected to Captain Gosling's ship?
He read on, his mind racing. The text recounted some of Gosling's exploits—the daring raids on coastal towns, his knack for disappearing into the mist as though his ship was a part of the sea itself, and his rumored stash of treasures hidden across the islands and coves of the southern coast. But the details about his life were scarce; many considered his story more of a myth than history. Still, the symbol on the flag seemed like too much of a coincidence.