Chapter Text
Some small towns can be found nestled in the gentle bosom of a valley, others captive in the shadows of looming mountains. But the small town of this story, Revenge’s End, teetered precariously on the edge of a cliff over a vast sea at the foot of a particularly obstinate lighthouse.
The lighthouse keeper was neither particular nor obstinate, but a rather sweet fellow named Stede Bonnet. He lived a quiet life in this quiet town and was quite content, for the most part. Why shouldn't he be, with good food to delight in, good books to escape through, and a soft bed to lay his head down to sleep upon.
But there were some nights when, standing by the spinning beacon of light at the very top of the grey and black tower, Stede breathed in a wish for something more. He just wasn’t sure what that ‘something more’ was.
Otherwise, Stede was very happy—and proud—to be in charge of warning away wayward ships and lending a light through the cumbersome fogs on the darkest nights.
The townsfolk were very fond of Stede. In this small town, they were more than friends. They were family.
They liked how he dressed in vibrant colours and talked as much with his hands as he did with voice. They liked how he held weekly suppers at the lighthouse that left them feeling satisfyingly full. They liked how he strolled through town always with a ready smile and greeting.
Most of all, they liked how he wove stories about far-off adventures that the small townsfolk of Revenge’s End would never know.
Like Stede, they were all very happy—and proud—to be just as they were.
The thing about a happiness like theirs is that it can often become a complacent one. The happiness of living a life with no expectation of anything new or different.
It takes something exciting to take that simmering wish for ‘something more’ and spark it into action.
And ‘something exciting’ was, as it so happens, lurking somewhere near in the vast, cerulean sea.