Hooked | ONC 2021 Shortlister, Ambassador Pick, and Honourable Mention

Preface

The light from the moon reflected off of the dark water that surrounded the King's Palace on three sides. Clouds drifted through the night sky, obscuring the twinkling stars above. The waves lapped along the cliffs and, farther out where it could hardly be seen in the night, against the side of the ship waiting for its captain to return.

Obscured by the shadows, the captain of the ship scaled the cliff wall, slowly pulling himself up towards the palace. He moved with grace and ease, a surprising feat given that he had only one hand. The other, his right, was missing. From the wrist down, his arm tapered into a clear and distinctive metal hook.

The captain reached the top of the cliff and crept across the grounds, narrowly avoiding the palace guards. He knew all of the secret entrances and exits into the palace, knew the twists and turns of the hallways inside. It was a place he could have maneuvered blindly, so deeply was it ingrained in his memory.

He found his way through to the Queen's Garden, a place overrun with rose bushes of every colour. As he passed, he snatched a simple red rose, cutting it at its stem with his hook and carrying it with his left hand. He crossed the garden towards the closest palace wall and, after ensuring that he was completely alone, ran his fingers along the stones until he found one which was loose. He pulled it free, sending it toppling towards the ground, to reveal a simple lever which, when pulled, opened a door.

He smiled to himself, a smile that belonged to a man who had traversed these grounds in his youth, nearly fifty years in the past. Then, with the night as his cover, he slipped inside of the tunnel and shut the door.

There was no light inside of the passage but it went only one direction and so he followed it to the end as it twisted and turned until he hit another solid wall. There was another lever to open this door and so he knelt down until he found it near the floor, pulling upwards and causing the door to swing outwards.

The captain emerged into a largely decorated room, fashioned with hues of navy and gold. From the drapes on the windows to the rug on the floor and the blanket on the bed, everything was decorated in the colour of the kingdom's emblem. A fire roared in the corner, providing warmth and light to the otherwise dark room.

Against the far wall, directly across from where the secret passage lay, was a bed. In the middle of it, underneath a mound of blankets and frail head resting on a pillow, was the King of Nydeliar.

In his youth, he'd been handsome with dark hair characteristic of his family and blue eyes obtained from his mother. His skin had been fair and unwrinkled, his jaw and nose strong, and muscles defined. As a prince, he'd had the aura of a king. As a king now, he had the aura of a man about to draw his final breaths.

This was the reason why the captain had returned. He had known this king once, back when the king had been a prince. Back when he was young and strong and stupid. They'd been each other's closest confidants.

They'd been brothers.

But the passage of time had damaged this bond and the captain knew it was his fault why it had not been repaired. His vengeance had kept him from home. He'd returned now only to say goodbye and bid his brother safe passage to the beyond.

The captain slipped across the room until he reached the king's bedside. The man on the bed was foreign to him. He didn't recognize the wrinkled face or the translucent veiny hands resting delicately upon the heavy blanket. Even the man's white hair was a stark contrast to the dark hue it had once been.

He knelt down next to the bed and placed his hand on the king's arm. After a moment, the man's eyes fluttered open and the captain, for the first time in fifty-nine years, met the eyes of his brother.

"No," the king croaked. He struggled to rise into a sitting position but the captain pushed him down gently. "No, it cannot be."

"It is, brother."

"You're dead. You died years ago. Back when we were boys. This must be a mirage for you have not changed which means you cannot be here. Else you are here to escort me to the afterlife where we may be young and bold again?"

"This is no mirage and I am not here to escort you to the afterlife. Though I hear your time is in short supply and so we must be swift in conversation."

The king paused and his eyes, eyes that were the same shape but a slightly different shade than the captain's, searched the other man's face. "My God. Is it really you, Bass?"

"Yes, brother. It is I." The captain smiled though it was sad and did not touch his eyes. Gently, he placed his hand into the king's.

"How?"

"All in due time, brother. I shall tell you my story if you wish to hear it but I shan't stay long. Only until dawn begins to rise over the sea and then I must be gone for I am a wanted man and my appearance in your chambers shall not go over well with your guards."

"But you are a prince! Your arrival home should not be met with fear but jubilance."

The captain averted his eyes from the insistent gaze of his brother. "I am no prince, Eric. I am a pirate and have been for many years now. I am not the same man who left our kingdom all those years ago. I confess that time has changed me and not all have been for the better."

"Your sins can be forgiven, Bastian."

"I have not heard that name in many moons." The captain sighed.

"What do you mean? It is your name? Surely you do not have another."

"Oh, but I do." He raised his right arm and placed it on the bed next to his brother. The king's eyes widened as his gaze raked over the cold metal hook which ended his brother's arm. "They call me Hook now."

The king's gaze returned to the captain with startling strength. "Captain Hook?"

"Aye, brother. The very same."

"They weave dark tales of you. Tell me that you have not devolved into the villainy that I have heard you accused of."

"I wish I could tell you that the stories are untrue, but I cannot."

The king relaxed into his bed, eyes brimming with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. "I should like to hear your story, my brother, before it is time for me to depart from this world. I think it best that you should tell it now."

"As you wish."

And so the captain began, telling his story from the beginning, for the first and only time in his life.