He stumbled through the forest, his vision beginning to blur as the wound in his stomach began to pulse painfully. Pressing his hand to the wound as hard as he dared, Philip struggled to make his way back to the series of pools where it had all gone wrong.

With his free hand he reached out to feel his way. His vision had become completely blurred and he could barely see what was in front of him. His hand collided with a tree and he began to walk slowly.

Soon he heard the sloshing of water and felt it lapping around his ankles. He realised that he had stepped into one of the pools which meant that she must be close. He opened his eyes slowly and shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of his blurry vision.

"Syrena!" he tried to cry out, but all he could manage was a hoarse whisper. His blurry vision began to subside and he was able to see in front of him. He looked down and noticed that he was able to see the water he was standing in.

The water was black and cold although the sun was beating down on it heavily. He took a step and was instantly plunged knee-deep into the pool. It was deeper than he expected. He staggered backwards, his feet striking the edge of the pool sharply before he fell to the ground.

The pain in his stomach became almost unbearable and he groaned loudly. A slight whimper answered him from behind. Clutching his wound he rolled over slowly, his eyes searching for the source of the noise despite his still blurry vision.

Struggling against the blurriness of his vision he could make out a shape protruding from one of the pools. As he crawled towards it he paused from pain with every inch he moved, but he did not stop. He was determined to reach her, determined to put right that which he had done wrong.

He reached the pool and saw the blurry outline of her. Of his Syrena. Her eyes were closed and her breathing slow. Her wrists were red and raw from where the rope was cutting into her skin. Her skin itself was dry and beginning to burn from the constant exposure to the sun.

He reached for her bonds and untied them as quickly as he could, his hands shaking from the constant pain in his stomach. As he untied them he pleaded with God quietly to spare her life.

When the bonds were free Syrena slipped slightly into the water, her eyes still closed and her breath still near non-existent.

"Syrena, Syrena please awaken. I promise your pain and suffering shall disappear if you but open your eyes and come back to me," he whispered softly, his hand cradling her face. For a moment there was nothing, before her eyes opened slowly. She stared up at him, her eyes hurt and accusing. "Syrena-"

Before he could say the words he truly wished for her to hear, she slipped from his grasp and dove into the depths of the pool.

"No!" he cried. He closed his eyes and moaned as the pain from his wound became almost unbearable. Silent tears escaped from behind his eyes, partly from pain but also partly from Syrena.

He did not blame her for running. If he had been anyone else and not had feelings for her he would have encouraged her to run. She deserved to be free, and to be loved by someone who would not betray her as he did. It was his fault she had been captured in the beginning, his fault she had produced a tear for Blackbeard and his fault she had been tied up and left to die.

"I do not blame you," he whispered quietly, although he knew she could not hear him.

In the pool Syrena swam as fast as she could. As far away from him as she could. As she swam she thought of him. Of how he betrayed her. Of how he had he left her to die in the sun... of how he came back. She couldn't stop thinking about how he had come back for her. Perhaps he didn't have anything to do with her capture, she wasn't sure, but she knew she needed to find out.

A light glinting off of something silver caught her eye as she swum past. Looking down she saw two silver chalices at the bottom of the pool. Perhaps this was what Philip was talking about when he told her that she was of God's own creation. She stared at the chalices, her thoughts centred on Philip. It was him. He was her saviour. He was the one who could pull her from the darkness of her thoughts and get her to see the light.

Making up her mind she dove down and grabbed the silver chalices in her hands. She looked up and saw a light coming from high above. That must have been where the chalices had come from. She began to swim up as fast as she could. As the surface of the water came into view she could see the pirate searching around in the water. He must have been looking for the chalices. As she swam closer to the surface he must have caught sight of her as he took his hands from the water and leant back.

"Do not waste my tear," she said as the pirate took the chalices from her. When the chalices were taken she turned and dove back into the pool, swimming towards Philip as fast as she could. The closer she got the faster her heart began to beat. She had never felt this way before, about anything.

Her head broke the surface of the water, startling Philip slightly. She took in the pain and worry in his eyes as well as the wound in his stomach. If she did not help him soon he would die. The thought pained her chest more than she thought possible.

"Syrena-" his voice was low and fragile. She said nothing but stared at him intently, drinking in the sight of him.

"I can help you," she said finally not taking her eyes off of him. "You need only ask."

"I would ask but one thing," he said quietly. She took her hand and cupped his face.

"Ask."

"Forgive me?"

"I should ask something of you."

"I should give you whatever you asked."

"Never leave me." Philip leaned in, leaving their faces but an inch from each other.

"Never." Syrena leaned in, closing the gap between them. Their lips met as a single tear fell down her face. She pulled him towards her, causing him to fall into the pool. He didn't protest, but simply clutched onto her as she swum them somewhere she could heal him. That was where they were meant to be. Together.