When the Black Flag Rises

Chapter 44-- Epilogue

A scream tore from my lips as I watched Edward fall, and I instantly knew I'd made the wrong choice. His red blood stained the water as he hit the rocks below, sinking into the sea. I began to sob, wishing to whatever God existed that He would turn back time, to give me another chance.

But he wouldn't. I'd killed Edward Kenway, the only man I'd ever loved and the only man who had ever loved me. I grasped at the Staff of Moses tightly, splinters scraping my skin. It should have been me. I should have died, I should have been the one-- Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at the waters, hoping beyond hope that he would surface.

No one broke through the water, leaving me full of regret, shame and anguish. I collapsed on that ground, feeling my heart tear itself apart. I would have books of words to attempt to describe my pain: melancholy, heartbreak, depression, grief, mourning, agony. However, nothing could describe the sundering of my soul.

Through all of my trials and tribulations, I had finally found happiness. I had found someone to live for, and I had let him go. I had let him fall, let him die. I had felt many kinds of pain, but this was entirely new. I'd felt the loss of my son so acutely I'd nearly killed myself with grieving. I'd felt abuse and hunger, sickness and evil.

This was a different kind of heartache, and it weighed heavily upon me. I'd kill myself with grieving here, as well. It hurt just as horribly. It had taken years for me to lighten my heart after the death of my son, and it seemed that just after I had, just as he'd helped me... I'd ruined it. My Edward was gone. He was gone... and it was my fault.

I laid and lamented my loss, almost wishing I could throw the thrice-be-damned staff and bring him back. In the heat of the moment, I had weighed my love for him with what was right and good... Why did I have to choose anything else other than him?

"I could have saved him," I whispered, my voice choking up. My intakes of breath came quickly as my body tried to replace the oxygen I lost with sobbing. "I could have saved them both. My God..." Let me die.

...

I sat and stared at the bar, a drink in my hand. My mind was fuzzy, but the rending of my heart was as acute as ever. The man wiping at the counter looked at me strangely as I asked for another after downing the rest.

I could have laughed at the irony of it all, were it not for the severing of my heart. My father had done nothing but wrong in his life, but I understood for the first time the desire to drink myself into a drunken stupor day in and day out. All I wanted I could not have, and all I needed was lost to me.

I closed my eyes and slumped down onto the table. I relived those last few moments again and again.

After I'd let Edward fall, Robert had found me on the edge of the cliff. My suffering had not and would never abate. Dazed, I had followed him to the ship Edward had captured, allowing myself to be brought back to Tulum.

Edward's crew was only mildly disappointed at the loss of their captain, and I wanted to slit their necks. They knew not the kind of agony it took to feel dead while drawing breath. They didn't mourn him like I did. They didn't feel the guilt that I did.

I kept off shore for days, remaining in Edward's cabin. His scent was ingrained in the chamber, and I spent many lonely nights in his bed. I went to sleep praying I would wake up beside him, and my prayers were never answered.

I had new additions to my nightmares.

I wished I'd never found Edward, that I'd let him be and accepted Walpole's death. It would have been better for Edward to live without loving me than to know he died through my own betrayal. Nothing gave me comfort in my darkness, and I welcomed the blackness as an old friend.

Ah Tabai had somehow escaped the Templars, and after weeks of living death, eventually warned me that he would cast me away should I continue to mope around. I didn't care. I didn't fucking care. I wished that Kenway had lived and not this piece of shit who wouldn't accept what I'd lost. To put it mildly, it was not a pleasant conversation.

"You cannot stay aboard this damned pirate's ship," he'd said. It was a moment before I looked up from Edward's pillow.

"Watch me," I had replied dully. Ah Tabai had scowled at me.

"You must assist us. His death was a small price to pay, and if you will do nothing for us then I will have no choice but to cast you out." It was then that I felt the familiar rage, and I made no move to hide it.

"You believe I have not helped you?" My voice was quiet, though by no means did that mean patience or calmness. Ah Tabai would experience the calamity that was my heart's agony. "You believe I have not sacrificed everything I had for you? For the Brotherhood?! I watched the man I loved-- yes, you emotionless bastard!-- loved fall, and it was by my own doing! I killed him for you all, for the world!

"Do not even attempt to speak to me of fucking sacrifice and what I have not done for you," I'd spat vehemently. "I have given everything I had to give. I will remain here. I will mourn." My head fell back down into Edward's pillow, and I breathed in the scent. I heard the door open and close, and I knew that he had left.

I hoped he'd been properly abashed, but I knew Ah Tabai. He was only disappointed in me and would undoubtedly follow up on his threat.

I tipped the mug back, draining it fully. I don't quite remember what happened afterwards, but I do know that I woke up in the corner of the bar with a sizable bruise on my cheek. I pushed on it and winced, not from the bruise but from the sudden wave of nausea that washed over me. Beyond that, I had a headache that rivaled those I'd gotten while I'd been pregnant.

I stumbled over to the railing of the bar and emptied the contents of my stomach, retching when there was nothing left to bring up. My throat burned from the acid, and I slumped down onto the wood. Birds twittered and people spoke, making my head pulse. They almost seemed to grow louder with each passing second.

Finally, I couldn't handle it. "Can you keep it down to a dull roar?" I shouted, my throat hoarse. The pressure of the forceful demand sent strikes through my skull. Though the people didn't stop talking, the volume went down considerably.

I shut my eyes and was out like a lantern.

...

I spent the next few weeks like this. The Jackdaw had long ago sailed away from Great Inagua, its first mate Liam Jones taking over as captain. I'd taken up residence in the mansion, and the servants didn't seem to mind much.

It wasn't as much of a home as the Jackdaw.

My alcohol tolerance rose with each passing day, and I found myself having to down more and more to achieve the blessed unconsciousness. I hated myself for innumerable reasons, from letting Edward go to becoming my shit of a father. I wished for death, I wished for release from the nightmares that plagued me.

I dreamed of Edward every night. More often than not, it was of joy. I dreamed of him sailing the Jackdaw alongside me, of our kisses, our nights, of him admitting he loved me and even building the sand castles in Tulum. Instead of bringing me peace and happiness, they destroyed me. Why? Because they showed me, over and over, what I would never have. It ripped me with every thought.

There was the occasional watching me let him go, over and over, and I woke every night screaming for him. I'd begun to tie a cloth around my mouth to bite when I awoke. It stopped the incessant shrieks, but never the pain. I was damned, cursed to wander the Earth alone with nothing but regret.

I wondered what I'd have preferred, to have never felt the beauty of love or to feel this agony. I knew I'd made the right choice for humanity... just not the right choice for me.

One night as I sat upon Edward's bed, mourning him and my own actions, I slowly lifted up my left hand. I stared at the lines upon my palm, at the small scars and ragged fingernails. This was the hand that had let him go. This was the hand that had murdered my love.

Wordless, I walked over to the closet. Tossed carelessly at the bottom was my assassin's robe, meant to be forgotten. I scrounged through the fabric until I found what I was searching for-- my sword. I set my wrist down onto the table and raised the blade, closing my eyes.

I swung.

THE END