Intro: They say everything die eventually, but not us; We're the infinite existence, cursed to live forever. We're the, Immortals.
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In a world where gods and mortals coexisted, every nation, tribe, and group had their own deity to worship. The monks had Buddha, the Atlantians had Neptune, the Romans had Jupiter, the Indians had Shiva, the Africans had Obatala, and the Vikings had Odin. But what about the buccaneers of the seven seas, the great plunderers and kraken slayers who yearned for nothing more than gold and more gold? What god did the pirates worship? What deity did they serve?
Well, I speak for us all when I say, we're gods of our own.
Throughout the decades, centuries, and millennia, pirates have existed. They plundered and ruled the seas, stole treasures of different worth and sizes, doing as they pleased without fearing any man or god. But a very pressing question was how did they come to be? Who was the first pirate? Who invented buccaneering? And what events led to the existence of piracy? What made a group of people suddenly decide to take a ship and engage in the act of robbery on the sea, and other godforsaken activities?
There have been various versions of tales and lores told to you. Some say we are Vikings who decided to sail the seas, others say we are descendants of the mad Illyrians and Phoenicians. But all those are just stories written by men. Let me tell you the actual story, one plotted and directed by a god, one that would bring you into a world of betrayal, madness, celestials, and a whole lot of family drama. Let me tell you the odyssey of the first set of pirates to sail the sea... Let me tell you all about, the voyage of the damned!
...
Inside a large bedroom, a young woman sat by her table, the bedroom was a marvel of opulence, with walls adorned in rich, velvety fabrics and a ceiling that seemed to disappear into the clouds. The floor was made of polished marble, reflecting the soft glow of the crystal chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling. A sprawling, four-poster bed dominated one side of the room, its posts carved with intricate, serpentine patterns that seemed to shimmer in the dim light.
Seated at a delicate, antique table by the window, the young woman with pale blonde hair and piercing green eyes wrote intently in a leather-bound journal. Her hair cascaded down her back like a river of moonlight, and her eyes sparkled with a mischievous intensity as she scribbled away.
The young woman's pen scratched across the page, the words flowing effortlessly as she continued her tale. "...and so, the pirates set sail for the island of Tortuga, their hearts filled with dreams of gold and glory. But little did they know, their journey was only just beginning, and the seas would soon be filled with..."
She paused, her pen hovering over the page as she collected her thoughts.
"... Wait! Ahh, fuck! Someone's coming, sorry guys but this story is going to have to wait. There are some guests here for me and i best welcome them properly," she muttered with a mischievous grin, and almost immediately,
BOOM!
A loud, booming sound filled the room, and the air seemed to rip apart, and a swirling portal appeared before her. Five figures emerged from the portal, but the woman didn't seem fazed, she remained on her chair with a bored expression.
Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at the figures, her pen still clutched in her hand. They were imposing figures, their massive bodies towering over her. Their faces were skulls, with empty eye sockets that seemed to stare into her very soul. But it was not just the skull faces that made them terrifying, an eerie glow of green light shone from the sockets, serving as eyes that seemed to bore into her very being.
The skull heads seemed to be engulfed by a black, shadowy flame that danced and flickered around them, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The flames seemed to be alive, twisting and writhing like living serpents.
As the figures approached, the young woman smiled, a fierce glint in her eye. "I take it you boys didn't come here to wish me a happy birthday?" she said softly, her voice thin and less mature. She was a woman in her mid-twenties, or so she seemed.
But they didn't stop, they kept walking towards her, with a clear malicious intent, as their hands, which looked like they were made of a shadowy substance, began to morph into weapons.
"Alright then, be my guest," the woman said, as her ears began to increase in length, getting pointy and long, her green eyes glowing Intensively. And in the blink of an eye, she disappeared from her seat.
As the attackers closed in, their shadowy hands morphing into razor-sharp claws and swords, the young woman reappeared behind them, her green eyes blazing with intensity. She moved with incredible speed, her body a blur as she darted between the demons, striking with precision and deadliness.
Her hands were a flurry of motion, unleashing waves of green energy that crashed into the demons like a tidal wave. The energy constructs took on various forms, from sharp blades to crushing fists, each one striking and sending them stumbling back.
But they were relentless, their shadowy bodies reforming and adapting to the young woman's attacks. They countered with their own dark powers, unleashing waves of dark energy that threatened to engulf her.
The young woman dodged and weaved, her speed and agility allowing her to avoid the attacks with ease. She retaliated with a blast of ice energy, summoning a wave of frosty air that crystallized the demons' shadowy forms, momentarily freezing them in place.
As they struggled to break free from their icy prison, the young woman unleashed a devastating combination of green energy constructs and ice powers. She summoned a swarm of razor-sharp ice shards that tore into the demons' frozen bodies, shattering all five of them into a thousand pieces.
The demons howled in rage and pain as they dissipated into nothingness, their forms erased from the mortal realm, probably not dead but definitely gone. The young woman stood tall, her chest heaving with exertion, her green eyes still blazing with intensity.
For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the young woman. Then, with a swift motion, she turned and walked back to her desk, her pen still clutched in her hand. Her ears reverted back to normal, the sharp glow in her eyes dimmed and her skin became less pale
"Alright, where were we? Ah, yes! The pirates were in for the ride of their lives," She said in her high-class british accent and sat down, her eyes never leaving the page, and began to write once more. The words flowed effortlessly, the story unfolding with a life of its own
As she wrote, the room began to fade away, replaced by the world of her imagination. The young woman was lost in her story, the battle with the demons already forgotten.
The pen in her hand still glowed with a faint, green light, a reminder of the incredible powers that lay within her, waiting to be unleashed once more.
But just as everywhere was seemingly becoming peaceful, another portal appeared, its swirling energies erupting into the room with a deafening roar. The young woman's eyes snapped up from the page, her pen hovering in mid-air as she gazed at the new portal and sighed.
"What is it with you people! Why did you have to pick today of all days? Huh?" She exclaimed with displeasure. Getting frustrated at the situation, it was her birthday for hell's sake.
The portal flickered and expanded, but this one was different from the previous one, its energies pulsating with a strange, purple light. The air around it seemed to ripple and distort, as if reality itself was being warped and twisted.
But the woman didn't seem to care, she stood up and waited for the next set of lads she would be sending back to hell. "Alright you fools, let's get this over with,"
But as the portal swirled open, only a single figure emerged, shrouded in a terrifying, deadly aura that seemed to darken the very air around them. The young woman's instincts screamed at her to be on guard, her hand tightening around her pen as she prepared to defend herself.
"Where in bloody hell did you come from?" She muttered and prepared to engage
But before she could move or even get a full glimpse of the figure, a small dagger suddenly flew through the air, striking the woman with deadly precision. The blade, made entirely of a yellow crystalline substance that seemed to glow with an otherworldly energy, sank deep into her chest, directly into her heart.
The young woman's eyes widened in shock and pain as she raised her head to look at the figure. For a moment, their eyes locked, and the woman felt a chill run down her spine. Then, her vision began to blur, and she felt herself falling, her body crumpling to the floor.
"Worst.. bloody.. birthday.. ever," she muttered softly, her eyes slowly closing in
As she lost consciousness, the woman's last thought wasn't of why the figure stabbed her, or what it even wanted. It was rather the thought of how she would exact her revenge on it for having her birthday ruined. And then, everything went black.
The figure now fully visible walked over to where the woman laid peacefully and probably dead. It carried her body gently and went back into the portal, disappearing along with the darkness, leaving the room silent and empty without the trace of a scuffle.
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Oxford, England
Balliol college, university of Oxford,
Inside a large lecture hall standing in the heart of the college,
The dimly lit hall was abuzz with the murmur of students scribbling notes and whispering to one another. The professor, a handsome man in his late 30s with a neat shock of black hair, pale skin and short stubble beard, stood at the front of the room, lecturing on the storied history of Balliol College itself, his silver eyes glinting beautifully in the light.
"...and so, in 1263, John I de Balliol, the founder of our esteemed institution, established Balliol College as a refuge for poor scholars. Over the centuries, the college has grown and evolved, but its commitment to academic excellence and social responsibility has remained unwavering..."
The lecture lasted for a while before he decided to end it. "Very well, that would be all for today. We shall be discussing the history of Northern Ireland during our next lesson, i do hope you get some insights on the topic before then..." he stated
As the professor concluded his lecture, the students began to stir, gathering their belongings and filing out of the hall.
"Bye professor Michael, have a lovely weekend," A group of girls waved at him in admiration as they left, much to the dismay of the guys
"Why does our lecturer have to be so handsome? Why can't we have the usual old men like a normal university?" they all thought
The professor smiled, nodding in satisfaction as he watched his students depart.
With the room empty, the professor began to pack up his notes and materials. As he was about to slip a small, leather-bound book into his briefcase, a letter suddenly materialized inside the case.
The professor's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at the letter. It was old, the parchment slivered with age, and the script was written in a language he couldn't quite decipher. But one thing caught his eye - the red stylized "A" embossed on the seal.
His expression immediately changed from surprise to intrigue, his eyes suddenly changed from silver to light blue and he was able to understand the words written on the script, he opened and read the contents of the letter throughly before his eyes reverted back to normal and a smile appeared on his face.
"Well, it's about bloody time," he muttered in his eloquent, high-class queen's english accent.
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