When I was 12, Gerard Covington, my father, brought me along with him on his ship, The Scarlett Queen. I was very interested in how the process of trade worked, and I wanted to know how to handle a bargain for when I was old enough to actually work with my father. It took a bit of convincing, persuasion, and compromise, but soon I was standing on the aft staring out at the deep, dark ocean. It was early morning; the sun was rising from the sea's depths. Almost all of the crew, including my father, was bustling around the deck and other levels of the ship, preparing to leave port.

The chef brought his son, Christopher. We both sat huddled together near the bow and he told me legends about the most feared pirate on the Seven Seas: Emerald Serpent. I shivered as Christopher told me of his ship, The Blind Angel, and how it was the fastest and the most silent ship ever to sail.

"The wood is so dark that, at night, it blends with the water, and the sails are pure white. They look like huge ghosts or storm clouds in the moon light. You can't hear it as it gains on you, and when you hear the first cannon, your fate is sealed!" His brown eyes were wide as he went on, "Every time he catches a ship, the crew will throw the men overboard and leave them to drown while they'll rape the women and beat the children-"

"Stop." I said softly, even though I was itching to hear more, "I don't think my father will like the fact that you're telling me all of this…"

"But it's all true!" He insisted, "Do you know how he got his name?"

I shook my head.

"They say that he is the most handsome man to ever live; perfect skin, perfect muscles, perfect everything. His eyes are so green and vivid that they look exactly like emeralds, and when he gets angry, they look like they're on fire. He uses his looks and charm to deceive people whenever he makes it to port, especially women." Christopher firmly rested his hands on my shoulders, "Be very careful when we make it to port, Alexandria."

I nodded, "I will. You too."

The entire day consisted of me walking around the lower levels or staying in my room. Christopher was with his father learning how to cook, so I didn't get to see him much. After spending hours studying the trade routes on my father's maps, I went back up to the deck. The Evening Star was shining brightly in the dimming sky. I stared at it until it hid itself among the other blooming dots of light, then I closed my eyes, the sound of the ocean lulling me to sleep.

When I woke up, all was silent. The moon bathed the ship in a pale light, and the lanterns added pools of yellow. My father was at the wheel, staring straight ahead, an intense look on his face. I quietly traveled to the back of the ship to get out of his line of vision. A cold breeze stirred my long, blonde hair and tickled my neck as I leaned on the rail. My vision was exceptionally precise even though I read at night sometimes. In the distance, I could see a large cloud on the horizon that was slowly getting larger. I hoped and prayed that there wouldn't be a storm; I absolutely hated storms. These clouds were rather odd, for they had a rectangular shape and they seemed to billow with the wind. They got bigger and I noticed a black mast in the middle of them…

Before I could scream, a cannon fired.

I jolted and fell out of my bed, my sheets spilling over me and tangling my limbs. My breaths came in shallow puffs as I quickly lifted myself up and glanced around, recognizing my dresser, my wardrobe, my mirrors…

It was all a dream.

I sighed and stood up, cringing at the bruise that was forming on my shin. Sunlight made its way through a gap in the curtains. I threw them open, revealing myself to the morning. The bay was swarming with sailors, merchants, traders, and nobles. At times like this, a fight could erupt just from mispricing a bag of potatoes. Soldiers were sent to keep everything under control. Soon, I would have to go down there with my mother, who had taken over the new ship, The Scarlett Princess, for my father after he…

There was a knock at the door, followed by a voice laced with an Irish accent, "Miss Covington? There is a Mr. Stadford here to visit."

Christopher!

"Ah, I'll be ready in a minute!" I called before going to my wardrobe and throwing on a white shirt and work pants. I slipped on flat shoes and observed myself in my mirror. I would've looked like an average girl if it weren't for my wicked eyes: Left eye light blue, right eye grey. My blonde hair flowed almost to my waist, so I tied it back with a violet ribbon that my father had given me on my eleventh birthday.

One would raise hell because of my attire. I didn't care.

I put my compass in my pocket before leaving my room and going downstairs to the grand foyer. This was an upside for being an aristocrat: having nice things.

I looked down, seeing Christopher neatly dressed in navy and beige, his blond hair pulled back neatly. He smiled and bowed, but when I bowed in return one of the maids coughed. I sighed irritably and curtsied rigidly, which made Christopher chuckle a little. I was never good at being a lady. "So," he spoke, "are you ready to go?"

"Yes, we just have to wait on mother-"

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" My mother, Beatrice Covington (she refused to go back to her maiden name), came down the stairs in a crimson dress with a lace fan to match. Of course, this made her personify The Scarlett Queen. Her blue eyes darted from me to Christopher and back to me. With a smirk, she said teasingly, "You two could be brothers!"

We laughed while the maids rolled their eyes.

"Now, we must hurry! Our luggage is already on the ship and we have no time to waste! Christopher, will Charles join us on this voyage?"

"It has been seven years since the attack, but my father refuses to even go near the docks…" His face was straight, but his eyes were full of sorrow.

"I am terribly sorry…"

We all bowed our heads.

I can't believe I survived.

The carriage took us where the port started, yet we still had a difficult time getting through the throngs of people that crowded the docks. Even with all of the ships in port, you could easily tell The Scarlett Princess apart from the rest of the vessels. Her wood was a dark, deep red, and it seemed to give off a sort of glow of life. It was well polished with perfect, straight masts and crisp, ebony sails. It was operated by a top-notch crew and surveyed by some of the best soldiers that England had to offer. Her mother, The Scarlett Queen, was somewhere at the bottom of the sea…

"Well now, we haven't got time to lose. We must leave port as soon as possible!" My mother went up the ramp to the ship's aft, two soldiers following her.

I turned to Christopher and noticed he was staring at me intently. At that moment, a crew member passed us, dropping a large, canvas sack in front of my feet and disappearing afterwards. There was a long moment of silence between us.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Alexandria?" He asked me slowly.

I answered with no hesitation, "Yes."

"I stand by your decision with no regrets."

I picked up the sack, making sure to appear nonchalant as we ascended the ramp. The minute we got on deck, we went below into the hold to his room. He made sure that the door was locked before I opened the sack, observing the contents inside: A baggy, frayed shirt, torn trousers, linen wrap, an old hat, and my father's six-inch-long knife.

"Okay, go outside now." I told him quickly.

He nodded and left.

I locked the door and proceeded to change clothes. I removed my corset and tightly wrapped the linen wrap around my chest, flattening it completely. I inhaled deeply, measuring the restriction, I can mostly breathe.

Next were my clothes. I changed swiftly and shoved the other clothes into the sack. They were baggy enough to hide the curves of my body, but they weren't big enough to fall off of me. I kicked the sack under Christopher's bed before unlocking the door and opening it a tad. "Christopher, I need help with my hair."

He came in and locked the door again, looking over me as he did so. "You look like a delivery boy in poverty," he said with a small smirk.

"Good, as long as the wrap doesn't fail me." I snatched the knife from his desk and held it out to him, "Here."

His smirk faded as he took the blade from its case. His fingers captured a lock of my hair, his eyes dark, "Light and golden, like an angel's…"

"Yours is the same way," I muttered, turning away a little. I felt my face grow warm.

"Why can't you keep it? There are manly pirates who have long hair-"

"I can't let people recognize me."

He sighed, his breath tickling my neck, "Very well."

I closed my eyes, hearing the shearing sound of the knife slicing through each strand of hair before they floated to the floor. He worked quickly and skillfully, and soon my head felt lighter. I tilted my head, a ticklish feeling at my neck and jawline. My eyes reopened and I was met with a few wisps of gold.

"Trust me, you look like a true sea rat," Christopher chuckled a little.

"You said I looked like a delivery boy in poverty."

"Well…how about a sea rat in poverty?"

We both laughed a little, but it didn't get rid of the growing feeling of sadness in me.

"Will I ever see you again?" Christopher asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I hesitated. Will I?

He sighed and yanked me by my arm into an embrace. "Just in case I don't…" He pulled back a little, and I could see his blank expression. He laid a tender kiss on my cheek. "I will miss you dearly, Alexandria. Try not to die, okay?"

"Okay," I muttered. I pulled away from him and placed the hat on my head. He placed the knife back in its case and handed it to me, to which then I slid it into the wrap under my arm. I put the hat on my head, a smile growing on my lips, "Are you ready to act?"

He smirked again, "Ready."

In that instant, Christopher grabbed me roughly and threw the door open, yelling as he did so, "How did the likes of you get on this ship?!"

"Go get stuffed, wanker!" I said in a light, yet man-like voice. Months of practice lead to this, and I was pleased with the result.

He "dragged" me through the halls and up to the deck, the scene between us getting more intense as I "struggled" against him. I threw a few obscenities at him and he spat some back. The crew, along with my mother, stopped what they were doing to watch the action unfold. Her shocked expression made me want to laugh, but I had to keep face for a tad longer.

"I don't have time to deal with a stowaway like you! Now get lost before I have you filled to the teeth with bullets!"

"You ungrateful scum-"

"I said GO!"

With that, he shoved me hard down the ramp. My feet were bare, so I had to be careful to avoid getting a splinter as I tripped and fell. I slowly stood, acting as if I was hurt, and "glared" at Christopher. He "glared" back, but then he winked and stormed away. I giggled as I heard my mother's shrill, frantic cries.

Alright…now what?

I quickly stepped through the crowd, keeping close to the ships to eavesdrop on crew conversations. I needed a specific location, one that the people of this area would surely disprove of. I was often told that it was just rumor, but I knew better.

"…we'll most likely stop in France…"

"…Singapore is a long way off…"

"…India has some good spices…"

"…The New World is what I'm looking forward to…"

Nothing so far. I thought irritably and walked slower. A few people bumped into me, but I was used to the rushing already.

"…I may avoid Ireland altogether…"

"…I have a bit of business in Tortuga…"

I stopped dead in my tracks. Wait.

Turning sharply, I saw a dark-colored ship with the word "Stingray" on it, its dingy sails billowing in the sea breeze. Next to it, on the dock, a tall man with sun kissed, tattooed skin, scruff dreadlocks, and dark eyes was talking to the captain of another ship, "Yes, I know it's dangerous, but it's pretty much the only place to get a good drink. We trade wine and ale for their famous rum." He smirked playfully and added, "Plus, the women there are willing to do anything for some coin, if you know what I mean."

"I hear ya. Had a friend go there and he hasn' come back since. A lass came outta nowhere and told me she was goin' to bear his child. I can't believe that seadog…" He laughed a little as he ran a hand through his dusty hair. "Anyway, we're goin' to leave port in a few minutes. It was nice talkin' to a fellow sailor for a bit. May the sea guide ya, young man." The captain left into the crowd, but then he reappeared two ships away.

Now all I have to do is-

"Excuse me, boy." A voice snapped me out of my plan-making. I glanced up and jumped at the sight of the man with dreadlocks. Up close, he was quite handsome, and the fact that his shirt was missing made it harder to focus on his confused expression. "Is there a reason why you were staring in my general direction?"

"I…uh…" I squeaked, but then forced myself into my "manly voice", "I overheard you talking about Tortuga."

"Yea? What of it?"

"I don't suppose you could…allow me to accompany you on the travel?" I tried to stand tall, but the top of my head was level with his shoulder.

He somehow noticed and placed an open hand on top of my head, "You're quite a short lad, aren't you? And your eyes are rather…interesting. How old are you?"

"19," I replied, "but what about my-"

"What's waiting for you in Tortuga?" He asked in a low tone and crossed his arms, "It's a dark place with murderers around every corner. You don't look like you'd be able to defend yourself, lad."

"My name isn't 'lad'." My voice rose a little.

"Oh? Then what might it be?"

Oh…damn it, what is my name?! After thorough and careful planning, I had forgotten to give myself a false name. "Uhm…Edmund…Edmund Jackson."

The man raised an eyebrow, "Well then, Jackson, I guess you could be of some use." He pointed in the direction of the Stingray, "There is a valuable trunk on that ship that is to be delivered to a governor that resides past Tortuga, not to forget to mention the best wine to ever reach your lips. There aren't enough crew members to guard everything; the last time we went to Tortuga, five people in our crew ended up in Davy Jones' Locker. Your 'job' might involve some sleepless nights. Are you prepared to commit?"

"Yes sir!" I said and smiled. "By the way, what's in the-"

"Quite a bit of gold and some extremely valuable documents that need to be signed," The man replied immediately as he turned around and walked to the dock, "Trust me, you aren't the first person to ask. Even the captain had no idea."

I had to increase my speed to a mild jog to keep up with him, "Wait, if no one else knew about it, how did you know about it?"

"Let's just say that I have friends in high places," He said casually, but I saw a small smirk form on his lips.

I wonder who these 'friends' are… I thought, but then gasped a little, "Oh, you never told me your name."

We were at the top of the ramp when he stopped and turned fully to me. There was an atmosphere about him that I couldn't describe. His brown eyes were vivid in the midday sun, "Thomas Kaulitz, but you can just call me Tom."