The old trumpet lay heavy in Jack’s calloused hands. Thirty years at sea had weathered his face like tanned leather, but his eyes still held a musician’s soul.

“Never thought I’d see one of these again,” he muttered, running his fingers along the brass curves.

Diego, his first mate, leaned against the cabin doorway. “That from the merchant ship?”

“Aye.” Jack didn’t look up. “Found it in the captain’s quarters.”

The setting sun painted the horizon in fierce oranges and reds, much like the day Jack had left the conservatory. The memory of his professor’s disappointment still stung sharper than any sword wound.

“You know how to play?” Diego asked.

Jack’s laugh was as rough as sea salt. “Used to. Before all this.” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings - the worn deck planks, the black flag hanging limp in the evening air.

“Show us then, Captain.”

Jack raised the trumpet to his lips. The first note came out broken and hollow, echoing across the empty deck. Wrong. All wrong. His fingers, so deft at handling ropes and weapons, felt clumsy on the valves.

“Seems broken,” Diego offered kindly.

“No.” Jack lowered the instrument. “It’s not the trumpet that’s broken.”

The crew had gathered now, drawn by the unusual sound. They watched their captain with curious eyes, these men who knew him only as a hard hand with a cutlass and a keen eye for prey.

“There was a time,” Jack said slowly, “when I could make this sing like a mermaid’s call. Back when I thought music could change the world.”

“What happened?” someone asked.

“The world changed me instead.”

He tried again. This time, a few clear notes emerged - the beginning of an old sea shanty. The crew leaned in closer.

But Jack stopped abruptly. The trumpet dropped to his side.

“Some things can’t be undone, lads.” He handed the instrument to Diego. “Keep it safe. Maybe we’ll find someone who can make better use of it.”

That night, as Jack stood at the helm, the trumpet’s phantom weight still lingered in his hands. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled across the waves like applause in an empty concert hall.

Diego appeared beside him. “Course, Captain?”

Jack studied the stars for a long moment. “East,” he said finally. “I hear there’s a conservatory in that port town.”

Diego nodded, understanding in his eyes. “And after we return it?”

“After?” Jack’s weathered face creased in a slight smile. “We’ll see what the wind brings.”

The trumpet remained wrapped in cloth below deck, silent but not forgotten, as the ship turned toward the rising sun.