Chapter Text
No one could quite understand it. No one knew how or why, but one thing was for certain - if this didn't get solved, Edgar Allan was going to be living in that hole he'd been screaming into.
The week was looking to end on a high note. Upon returning from the school trip to Harrow-in-Furnace, Edgar and his chums had practically leapt out of Saikaku and ran off away from the others, with a shaky bird egg in tow. With Edgar gently cradling it in his hands, he and his friends stared in anticipation, watching the tiny egg wiggle and crack. This is it, the bookworm thought to himself, struggling to hold back a huge grin, He's finally coming back to me. Another chance to get it right, for the two of us.
But something happened. Without warning, the egg suddenly stopped completely. Frozen in time, just as it was about to fully crack. Silence fell between the four, but sure enough, Edgar was breathing rapidly. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the egg. His heartbeat rang through his ears, faster and faster. Before Roland could reach out and console him, he screamed. The egg fell from his hands as he grasped hard at his hair, thankfully being caught by Monty before it hit the floor.
Sgt. Lewis soon dashed over, not questioning the boys as to why they'd run off. She was quick to grab Edgar's wrists and hold them back, as he was very close to pulling out his own hair. His voice was hoarse, his breathing was ragged, his eyes stung with tears.
"Edgar! Edgar, listen to me!" Sarge barked, also trying to dodge the flailing legs, "What are you doing, you need to tell me wh-"
"IT'S NOT FAIR!! IT'S NOT!! WHY? WHY CAN I N-NEVER GET ANYTHING R-RIGHT?! WHY?! WHY?! WH-WHY?! "
His friends knew he was going through some things, but the outburst was jarring. Emotions - raw, unresolved, and loud - finally getting the upper hand on the shy, quiet boy. Kevin was the only one who'd heard the other boys talk about Edgar screaming into a hole on the grounds, but he just assumed it was a joke. A cruel joke, in a way - like they'd know what it was like to lose something like Poe! But now, seeing this firsthand, he was starting to think that maybe the joke had some truth to it.
Finally, Roland bravely stepped forward. "SLEEP!!" he yelled, armed with glowing hands. Had Edgar been scrambling a few inches more to the left, the spell would've knocked out Sarge. But thankfully - for everyone - the spell hit him, and his movements slowed. With drooping limbs, he quietly sobbed as he faded into a slumber. The boys ran over, and grabbed Edgar as he slipped from Sarge's grip.
"What the hell's going on, lads?" She asked, cracking her wrists, "What did you do?" She caught sight of the egg in Monty's hands, "Is the egg alright?"
"I-It's just…stopped? I think?" Monty replied, "I caught it, but it still isn't moving. It was about to hatch, and it's…it's just stopped!". Sarge crouched down to look at the egg closely. Where the crack was at its largest, tiny shell fragments floated above it, unmoving. The boys weren't kidding, it truly had frozen in time. It was a good thing she was so focused on the egg, and not the glowing blush creeping onto Monty's face.
The sound of stumbling hooves came up behind her. "I-I heard screaming, what on Earth is going on here?" Elliot Kelly panted, "I'd just gone to give the keys back to Fra- Edgar?!"
Sarge pulled him down to her level, pointing at the egg. His goat-like pupils narrowed, frowning slightly as he caught sight of the fragments. "Monty, may I?" he said quietly, putting his hands out. Monty gently handed the egg over, as the two Stewards rose. Both shot each other a concerned glance.
"Uh, o-okay guys, I think it'd be appropriate for Sgt. Lewis and I to take care of this situation now." Elliot sighed, "If the three of you could head on to wherever it is you need to go, that would be great, okay?"
Kevin frowned, holding onto Edgar tightly. "We can't just leave him, Mr. Kelly! We need to look after him, he's not right, he's-". He was quickly silenced by the classic Sgt. Lewis scowl, backing down as she pointed off in the other direction. The three of them weren't really in the position to argue with either Steward, what they'd just seen had really shaken them. They knew that something was wrong, they'd known for a while. But none of them really knew just how much Edgar had been keeping to himself. They only wanted to help…but if Edgar wasn't telling them how he'd truly been feeling, did he want their help at all?
As the boys skulked off, Sarge scooped Edgar up and draped an arm over her shoulder, whilst Elliot continued to stare at the egg. "I didn't really want to swear in front of the boys…" he said, leaning in, "…but what the fuck was that?"
"No idea. Poor lad just lost it. He can't half kick, though…" Sarge replied, wincing a little. Edgar's flailing managed to boot her right in the knee, she forgot just how tough the St. Churnley's school shoes were made to be. "But he's easy to sort out. I'm more concerned about that."
"Yeah, same. What are we thinking?"
"I've not seen time magic in a long while. I don't even think anyone here at the moment has time magic. It could be his curse acting up, but…" She felt Edgar stir slightly, and propped him up a little more, "…let's get him in. Singh will know what to do."
Little did Sarge know that their hopes would be dashed. She and Elliot hauled Edgar over to Hexmaster Singh's office, as quick as they could. She was hoping he'd have a straight answer, something that could get sorted quickly and give this poor boy something good for once. But as they all waited patiently, bathed in the flickering lantern flames of the office, even the Hexmaster looked puzzled. His shadows gently kept the egg afloat, he adjusted his glasses over and over to see if he could see…an aura, more shards, a blip in a spell, something. Alas, he seemed just as clueless as the others.
"Well, Edgar," He cleared his throat, the egg gently floating onto his desk, "This will definitely take some figuring out. It's a spell, I know that much. But where it's come from exactly, I don't know. Had this magic come from student or staff, we could've sorted this quicker." He looked away pensively, rising from his seat, "It's possible that it's something from The Plagueround. This might even be something we've not encountered yet. It'll take time to investigate."
Edgar shuffled in his seat, having not long woke up from Roland's spell. Either side of him was Elliot and Sarge, both worried about another outburst. Although, one was much more ready to restrain him than the other.
"H-Hexmaster, with respect, what if Poe…I mean, whatever it is, what if it doesn't have time?" he mumbled, "What if the crack is too big, what if it's not ready, wh-what if it suffocates, wha- what if-". His heartbeat was starting to get loud again.
Hexmaster Singh approached Edgar slowly. "Let's take a breath, Edgar. This magic has suspended it in time, it should be okay." Singh was cautious, he could see his hands shaking as his gaze shot to the floor. "If you're concerned, I could see if I could keep Poe safe in he-"
"NO!!"
All three members of staff jumped. Elliot nearly tripped over his hooves as he backed up, and Sarge readied to grab him again. Hexmaster Singh stood firm, he wasn't expecting an outburst, yet he wasn't out to punish the boy. Tears began to fall again.
"H-H-He has to stay with me, he has to, I-I have to keep him…it…AAGH, I don't know what it is now, but if I can't keep my curse safe then what's the point of even being here?! I should've known I wouldn't be good enough to h-handle it like Dad and Grandad, I don't deserve this curse, I DON'T DESERVE-"
A booming clap and a barrage of shadows rattling the lanterns brought Edgar out from his spiral. He didn't even notice he'd brought his hands up to his hair once more. Slowly bringing them down to his sides, he noticed Singh nod at the other two. Elliot seemed hesitant to leave, but Sarge took his arm with a gentle "Come on." As they left, Edgar quickly readjusted, struggling to look a very concerned-looking Singh in the eyes.
"I-I'm sorry…" He sobbed quietly, "I'm so sorry, Hexmaster. I-I didn't mean to-"
"I know you didn't, Edgar. I think you've been keeping in a lot more than you think you have. People are worried. Your friends are worried. I'm worried."
The last thing Edgar wanted to do was worry people, especially when he wasn't thinking very highly of himself. He pulled his head up slowly as Singh spoke again. "I shouldn't have said that about the egg, it was foolish of me. After everything you've been through, it should stay near you, at all times."
The shadows brought the egg over to Edgar, who had to refrain from reaching out frantically to grab it. He held out his hands, waiting patiently for it to gently plop down. It felt so cold, he still couldn't help but worry that this time freeze might do something bad to it. As the lanterns flickered, Hexmaster Singh seemed to float back to his desk, shooting Edgar a small grin.
"You're excused from your lessons tomorrow. I wouldn't want you getting overwhelmed in classes after all this," He said firmly, "We'll help you work through this, Edgar. We all will, and that's a promise. St. Churnley's is here to help your curse, never hinder it."
With a polite nod and a muttered "Thank you", Edgar scurried away, leaving Singh to sigh heavily and pull out a large, worn tome to read through.
"Honestly, if that boy is anything like his father…"
Edgar slept alone in his dorm room that night. Monty was practically dragged into a 'sleepover' with Roland and Kevin, after seeing that he clearly needed space. The only words he spoke were about not being in lessons tomorrow, and being too tired to talk. All the while, he tossed and turned, hoping that he'd at least get a couple of hours sleep…but he couldn't help but watch the frozen egg sat at his bedside, bathed in moonlight.
Morning soon came, and a bookworm running on three hours sleep and a strong cup of coffee knew exactly where he needed to be - a long stay in the school library was just what Edgar needed. Today was a day for being lost in pages, over lost in conversation with the other boys.
Large, dark oak doors swung open upon a grand yet ominous hall. Two huge floors of literary bliss. Looming shelves made of centuries-old wood, various mythical beasts carved into each one. The black and grey floor tiles looked so shiny, it almost felt like walking on a glassy lake. Only one wall of the library had huge windows, but the hundreds of candles did a better job of lighting it all up than the odd gloom from outside. Ladders along the shelves seemed to move by themselves, and it wasn't uncommon for a random book to whizz by and hit someone in the head whilst they were trying to read.
Many wanted to question as to why this place was so grand and magical, compared to the crumbling dorm rooms or the state of the Tower of Control. They usually kept it to themselves, but now and again one may have heard Mr. Hinks mutter something about 'where all the funding was going' under his breath whenever he had to come to the library.
Edgar gazed upon his sanctuary, and took a deep breath in. Staying here for the day would at least try and clear his mind. Another breath in, taking in the smells - the candle smoke, the weird mustiness of ancient textbooks, the sea water…
…wait, sea water?
Edgar shook his head, and thought nothing of it. Probably that one Third Year with a body of sand, he thought to himself, Someone needs to get that guy some cologne…
He weaved in and out of the shelves, finding a desk tucked away near one of the windows. But as he was about to go and look for a book…there it was again. Sea water. He turned round, expecting to see the sandy student behind him…no one. He couldn't hear anyone near the shelves, either. But that smell was coming from somewhere, he was certain.
He peered round the shelves to his left - the smell was getting stronger. Amidst the quiet, he started to hear something…waves? What on Earth was going on? Was someone pranking him? Or perhaps in his emotional state, his Prestidigitation magic was acting up. He wasn't sure, but he gingerly made his way further down the shelves, fingers trailing the book spines.
Suddenly, he stopped. The sound of waves felt like it should've been loud enough for everyone to hear, and he may as well have been stood next to the ocean if he wanted to smell the sea this strongly. His hand slowly reached out to a book he'd never seen before. A thick cover of the darkest brown leather, woven spine and edges, decorated with bright blue and turquoise patterns. The cover had a large dark blue pearl embedded into it, kept in place by a ring of rusted metal. Either side of it were two beautiful mermaids, with intertwining tails.
'Tales of the Sea'. Edgar examined the book, but he still couldn't recall seeing this one before. Surely in his many visits, he would've noticed a cover so striking! Although, its mystique was ruined by a faded sticker on the back, yellowed with age, that read 'THIS TREASURE WAS FOUND BY FRANK - KEEP YOUR THIEVING PAWS OFF!!'. Well, wherever Frank was, the chances of him fighting a St. Churnley's schoolboy to get his 'treasure' back were pretty slim.
He tried to open the book, but it felt like something was holding it shut. As he kept trying, the sound of the waves grew louder…and this time, the waves carried a distant voice;
"Not here, lad. Alone."
A shiver travelled up Edgar's spine. This book was starting to feel more and more powerful, and it was just hanging around on a random shelf? Hexmaster Singh had a habit of locking away certain books in the Tower of Understanding, books that were too magically potent for the average schoolboy. But, this one was just here, and he suddenly felt compelled to listen to it. He had to take it elsewhere.
Shoving it into his satchel, he began his journey back to his dorm. It was still lesson time, and no one would be about there. Edgar wasn't sure if it was magic, or willpower, or temporary insanity, but if that book wanted him to be alone, then by Poe he was going to do it. Was it silly to trust it? Probably. But after everything that had happened, the boy had a weaker mind, and seemingly nothing to lose.
The second he got back, his door slammed shut and he rummaged through the satchel. He held the beautiful book in his hands, and attempted to open it again. The cover opened as if nothing had been stopping it at all, and the second he began to turn the pages, he couldn't look away. Sure enough, Edgar was sat down on his bed for what felt like ages, reading story after story.
Memories flashed in his mind at some of the tales - memories of balmy Summer evenings, a young lad sat with his Grandad in the garden, both decked out in newspaper hats and wooden swords as Grandad told stories of fearsome pirates and legends of the sea. They would act out the daring battles together, the lawn was their ocean, the trees were their masts, the Summer leaves were their sails blowing in the wind. Even Grandad's raven got in on it, sometimes donning a tiny bandana and squawking like a parrot.
All but a distant memory now. Maybe this was the book that Grandad got the stories from, all those years ago. Perhaps that Frank guy was the one that gave it to him? Edgar would have to ask him when they next met.
An hour passed, and he'd become enthralled by what seemed like the longest story so far. A daring tale of a jolly pirate captain and his crew, made of people he'd saved from trouble in every land he'd travelled to. He and his crew went on many adventures, liberating lands and outrunning a hellish Navy, all the while in pursuit of a legendary treasure. The story felt like it was coming to a close, Edgar frantically turned the page to read the final parts…
…only to be met with blank page, after blank page, after blank page. He was careful not to rummage through too quickly, as the pages were very old. Still, how dare the story just end randomly! It was just starting to get tense, the captain was just about to do battle with giants on a Viking island!
Little did Edgar know, that what was about to happen was about to be a lot more tense than any of the stories he'd read.
As he went to close the book, he couldn't. The cover felt as if it was glued down. Strange, there wasn't any glue or tape on the cover when he looked at it before? He tried to move it from the bed, but it didn't budge. In his fretting, he put his palm on one of the pages, and a magical glow seemed to stick his hand to it. He wasn't even using any magic, what was going on? His breathing became frantic as he flew off his bed, ripping his bed sheet whilst trying to wrench his hand off. All the while, not noticing the glowing text fading into view on the opposite page. Before he could call for help, he caught sight of the text, and suddenly couldn't look away.
Magic outside of his own was starting to take over, a cold sweat began to form as the book fell to the floor, his whole hand felt like it was sinking into the page. A bright light flashed, draining all the light from the room. Just Edgar, his egg, and the book - whilst looking down at the text before him, the sound of crashing waves echoed around the room as the magic compelled him to read aloud:
GAZE UPON THIS MAGIC BOOK,
OF WHICH ONLY THY BLOOD MAY LOOK.
ONLY BLOOD CAN CITE THE SPELL,
AND FREE THEE FROM THIS HARDBACK HELL.
THE CHAINS THAT BIND SHALL FALL FROM ONE,
AND FALL TO ANOTHER WHEN THE READING'S DONE.
BRING THEE BACK, LIKE THE TIDES THAT FLOW,
AND SEND THE OTHER TO THE DEPTHS BELOW.
On the final word, Edgar felt his senses return to him, and used all his strength to pull his hand away, launching the book across the room. He struggled to catch his breath, as if reading the poem had drawn all the air from his lungs…almost as if he'd been drowning. Silence fell, and the only light was the turquoise glow coming from the book. Edgar quickly checked his pocket - the egg was still there, still frozen. At the very least, whatever all that was hadn't damaged it.
But as he nestled the egg back in, the book began to shake. He scrambled back, his back against the door. Whatever that magic had made him say, it had triggered something. Something bad.
Ghostly tendrils emerged from the open pages, becoming ribbons of water shooting up into the air. More and more emerged, moving faster and faster, until a vortex of water was bursting free. Edgar wasn't sure where to look, but he tried to gaze into the water. The bottom of the shaft started to look darker, as if something was rising up…
…SPLASH! The terrified boy jumped as a hand shot out of the vortex. A soaked, ragged leather glove gripped onto the pages below. SPLASH! The other hand came out. The shape in the water grew darker, as eerie, staggered breathing filled the air.
SPLASH! A horrific skeleton threw itself out at Edgar, reaching out and screaming. The water quickly engulfed it completely, drowning its scream. Edgar's fear was too paralysing, he couldn't truly see what the water was trying to do. But he knew this was no illusion. Something had been released. Something had been trapped for a very long time. He didn't really have time to dwell, however, as the vortex turned and unceremoniously spat the being to the side, before disappearing back into the book.
The only noise in the room was the sound of all the water that had soaked the place slowly trickling back to the book as well. Edgar pulled himself up slightly, trying to be as quiet as possible as to not alert whatever that was. It coughed and spluttered violently, as if it was trying to remember how to breathe properly.
With a wet THUD, sodden hands pushed the figure up from their knees, and onto their feet. A skeleton no longer - this thing had a full body now. As they rose, it quickly became clear that this was no living being; an translucent turquoise form, with an eerie glow that gave off a water-like reflection all around the room. The air grew heavier, and was quick to stink of sea water.
Edgar's jaw dropped as the sheer height of this being towered over him. Seven foot tall, at the very least. Heavy chains and rusted buckles rattled all over their body, every bit of worn leather and torn cloth looked drenched. The poor boy couldn't even find the strength to whisper, let alone say anything aloud. All he could think of doing was protecting the egg, as he just about had the courage to gently cover his pocket with his hand.
Finally, the figure slowly turned to face him - a man with a gaunt face, scraggy long hair and a large beard, entwined with seaweed and the odd starfish. Bright, glowing eyes slowly looked down at the terrified boy before him, a decrepit smile creeping onto his face.
A ghost. An actual ghost. Right there, in the room, stinking to high Heaven and in need of a few Wet Floor signs. Edgar couldn't believe it.
"I've waited so very long for this day...I can sense that centuries have passed…", the ghost growled, water dripping from his mouth as he spoke, "And this is what I'm greeted by? A tremblin' bag o' bones! I expected somethin' a little more impressive than this…"
Edgar was just about get some words out at long last, when a loud squawk rang out throughout the room. Some watery tendrils shot from the book once more, swirling round the man and settling on his shoulder. As the tendrils cleared, a skeletal parrot appeared, loudly squawking again and nudging at the mans face.
"Even Polly's got more to say than ye, lad!", the mans voice boomed again. He took a step foward, every step sounding more water-logged than the last. Edgar scrambled to his feet, neither ones gaze leaving the other. "If this is what my blood has come too, then ye may as well seal me back in there!"
His blood? What on Earth was he talking about?
"I DON'T-" The nerves made Edgar's voice shoot through his throat. He took a moment to clear it before trying again. "P-please, I don't know what you mean by…b-blood," he stammered, "I-I-I don't even know who you are!! I got this book, I was d-drawn to it, it called to ME, and I didn't know it had a spell, and-"
"Use yer brain, lad! Unless all that shakin' has rattled it out of yer skull. Ye said it yerself, the book called to ye, like a siren 'pon the rocks". The ghost stepped closer and closer to Edgar, backing him into a wall. He leaned in close, the stench of dead seaweed and fetid water almost making Edgar heave.
"I was told all those years ago that only my blood would be able to find and read that spell. Only my blood would be able to break this." The ghosts' voice became lower and more hoarse as he held a broken chain in his hand, showing off the rest of the chain link throttling his neck. Edgar winced at the cuts and bruises underneath it all - he wasn't just sealed in there, he'd been dragged to his doom.
"…Who are you?" Edgar said shakily, lifting his head slightly, gaze still locked. "I-I read that spell, a-and I demand to know who or what I've set free." The ghost flashed him another rotten smile, as he turned his back and held out something that draped from his shoulders. A cape? It looked too thin to be a proper cape, and it had two huge rips in the middle of it, distorting a design…
…Edgar's blood ran cold. He knew that design, he'd known that design from the stories his Grandad told him, nevermind this weird book. A skeleton, brandishing a spear, aimed at a red heart.
That was no cape. That was a flag. A highly feared flag for those who dared to set sail centuries ago.
Edward Teach.
"…Blackbeard."
The ghost's loud, hearty laugh seemed to shake the crumbling plaster from the walls. "There's a brain in there after all!", he hollered, still spitting water from his mouth with every word. "Yer lookin' at yer ancestor, lad! The blood of the great Capn' Blackbeard flows through ye, and that blood has set me free, at long last!"
Edgar felt his knees buckle, but he had to at least pretend to stand firm. He was trying to convince himself that this thing was lying, but how could he be? Surely someone else would've found the book and read the spell by now, if it was just some random ghost compelling them to do so. Surely someone would've been compelled to pick up a book that looked as unique as this one, looking a lot more interesting than most of the books in the library. Could it not be seen by anyone else? And how long had it been there? How long did it sit there, biding its time, waiting for the 'blood' to come to it? Did Hexmaster Singh even know about this book being there, let alone the spell? Should it have been locked away?
All these questions, with so many answers. But Edgar didn't have time to dwell on them right now. It chose him. It called to him. And now, the ghost of one of the most fearsome pirates in history - his ancestor, so it seemed - was stood before him.
Oh god, the Captain Blackbeard was stood before him.
"Now then, now that I know ye've got a brain," Blackbeard said, snapping Edgar out of his thinking, "'Tis my turn to ask ye some questions. I sense…land beneath me feet. Last I checked, that book was to be thrown to the sea. So, who are ye? Where be yer ship? Yer crew?"
The last question shot a pang through Edgar's heart, but he had to find the courage to answer. "Y-you're at St. Churnley's School for Cursed Boys," he replied, gently bringing out the egg from his pocket, "And I'm…not a pirate, so there's no ship or crew. My name is Edgar, E-Edgar Allan, my bird is…uhh, m-my bird is-". Edgar caught a surprised expression on Blackbeard's face, as the Captain noticed the crack in the shell. Even Polly seemed to tilt her skull in confusion.
"I knew the magic was powerful," he scoffed, "But I didn't realise it'd track ye down before ye'd even found the book. I didn't think it'd freeze the poor bugger either, even like that." Another pang in Edgar's heart - so, this book's magic was powerful enough to stop the egg. But how, and why now, of all times? Had this happened to his Dad and Grandad's ravens, or was it because Poe was different? Perhaps the same had happened to Polly, all those years ago - something bad must've happened to the poor thing, given the magic water couldn't give her body back like it did to her master.
Did Death walk hand in hand with the curse his family bore?
Edgar was so caught up in questions, that he only just noticed Blackbeard looking at the broken chain, then back towards him - a toothy smirk growing on his face. "Let's call that a happy accident. I'm a pirate, not a wizard, I don't question how these blasted dark arts work…" He chucked as he lifted his chain high, "…And I don't think I'll be questionin' why it's not takin' you…"
Edgar felt his blood run cold again, and tears welled in his eyes as he heard a voice whisper throughout the room.
"THE CHAINS THAT BIND SHALL FALL FROM ONE,
AND BIND TO ANOTHER WHEN THE READING'S DONE."
The chain around Blackbeard's neck had indeed fallen, and ghostly chains shot out from the pages…suddenly revealing the tiniest chains wrapped around the egg. The egg was whipped from Edgar's hand, too high for the boy to reach. The intense feelings from the day before erupted once again.
"GIVE HIM BACK!!" Edgar shrieked, "IF YOU WANT TO BE FREE, J-JUST TAKE ME INSTEAD, BUT- J-Just put him back, please, I'm BEGGING YOU-"
His breath caught as he was soon silenced by the tip of a rusted, stained cutlass at his chin. He could actually feel cold metal inches away from slicing his throat to ribbons.
"Ye don't get to decide, Bone Bag." Blackbeard growled, clutching the hilt and tilting Edgar's head up to look him in the eyes, "The spell wants yer bird, so it's gettin' yer bird. Perhaps it sees more value in an egg than a weedy lil' whelp of a lad like you." Polly cawed loudly, almost sounding like a mocking laugh.
Edgar was about to beg once more, there had to be a way to switch places. There had to be. However, here came the world's most unwelcome interruption…
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
"Edgar? It's us. Well, it's Monty, but we're all her t- OW! Kevin?!"
"Get out the way! Edgar, Mr. Hebden let us go a little earlier so we could come and get you before lunch. Do you wanna to come with us?"
"We heard Mr. Beans is back! They're doing brunch today! You can't say no to breakfast for dinner, right?"
Edgar wanted to scream, but fear grasped at the words in his throat. Blackbeard eyed the door, then looked back at the boy. "So, ye don't have a crew, do ye?" He taunted, pushing the cutlass a smidge further, "Not only are ye a weed, but you're also a liar…do ye want to see what I did to liars when I ruled the seas?"
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
"Edgar, is there someone in there with you? Look, we're coming in, okay? You're going have to come down for food at some poi-"
"NO WAIT, R-ROLAND, DON'T!!" The words escaped Edgar too late, as the door flung open and there were his three best friends, Roland striding in with Monty and Kevin in tow on each arm, armed with his usual shining grin.
"Come on, chaps! Let's get him downstaaaaiiiiiAAAGH, WHAT THE FUCK-" Roland sprang back, almost bowling the other two over. The three of them were far enough in the room for the door to slam behind them. None of them were prepared for what was on the other side of the door, and none of them knew how to respond. Monty just about got the courage to slam his hands over his nose, the smell of sea water was strong enough to make his stomach turn.
The gaze soon shifted from the hulking, drenched ghost with a sword pointed at their friend, to the tiny egg floating in the air, wispy chains keeping it in place above a glowing open book.
"Would ye look at that, Edgar?" Blackbeard sneered, "Looks like yer crew got here just in time."
Before anyone could make a move, before anyone could utter another word - even if it was just 'what the fuck' - the chains quickly pulled the egg down, through the glow of the pages…and the book slammed shut.