Okay! After a brief reprieve (in which my cat had liver and kidney problems - don't worry, she's recovered!), the second installment of the revamp is finally beginning! Yayy! At the moment, what I hope to have done is got rid of some (but not all) of the useless filler (unless it was enjoyable filler), patched up some plot holes, and changed the interaction between characters to be not only more realistic, but truer to those characters (especially James, cuz he was all femenine and weak in the original. Insert grimace.)

Please continue to enjoy!

Gathering the Scattered Pieces

Disclaimer:

Authoress: Did no one come to read this just because they missed me?

Disney Officials: -point guns and cutlasses-

Authoress: ...Oh...

Chapter One: Teacher

With a gasp, James opened his eyes, panting for breath. He was soaked, sitting in the muck, in a foggy, unfamiliar swamp. There was a shack off in the distance, built on stilts to escape floods that must be frequent. It looked nearly as if it were built into the trees, through which no light shone. Perhaps it was night. There were candles lit in the windows. Someone was definitely home.

With a sudden sting of worry, he realized the girl was not with him. "Amy?" He stumbled to his feet, looking this way and that. There was no response. He cupped his muddy hands to his mouth and called for her again. "AMY!" A thought entered his mind that she may be in danger, but he immediately dismissed it. As mysterious and strange as this place was, it felt safe. Then perhaps she was unconscious. It made sense after all: he had just been unconscious himself, as it were. So he began to look for tracks, footprints, any sign that some thing had fallen from the sky. But the mud was loose and slimy, sucking at his feet and filling in his own footprints as soon as he made them. After some time, he came to an area clear of trees. A river. And there was something on the far bank. "Amy!" He hastened to the water. The river was narrow here, perhaps as wide as a jolly boat was long, black water flowing through it. If he jumped, neither bank would support him—for he could have jumped it if he tried—so he instead decided to take the plunge. Literally.

The water was ice against his skin, in sharp contrast with the hot and humid air. He swam to the other bank in few powerful, effortless strokes, and climbed out on the other side, shaking himself like a dog before approaching the unmoving form. There she was, sleeping peacefully. He hauled her out of the muck and onto his back, her arms and head draped over his shoulders, and began the trek toward the glowing shack in the distance.

After some time, the river opened out and shallowed, water low enough to wade through. There was a mist about its surface, but the light from the house shone through it. As he waded, James sensed with a jolt that they were being watched. He stopped and slowly looked to the left, and saw nearly invisible people watching them from the trees. Behind him was the same. And to the right. At first he was unnerved, but after a few moments of alarm, he acknowledged feeling they were watching over him and the lass. In fact, they must have been the ones who pulled Amy from her initial crater and from sinking into the mud, he mused. As grateful as he was for this, it did not make their stares any less creepy. He heaved his young companion up the ladder and to the tiny porch, and set her down as he paused for rest. (The girl was light, but so is a flute–holding either for a long time gets tiring.) He saw then the many similar houses which must have been inhabited by those ever-watchful people.

A few minutes later, wiping some of the dried mud from his face, he picked her back up, this time bridal style, and knocked on the door. It opened as if by its own will, and he peered in. The room was bathed in the light of several bright candles. Dozens of jars and other such containers hung from the rafters, which were frame to a thatched roof, filled with all sorts of things, from liquids to crabs' claws to...were those eyeballs? "Hello?" he called. "I don't mean to impose, but I was wondering if I might be directed to—." He broke off.

A woman had appeared, dark skinned, dreadlocked, and dressed in an old, elaborate, once beautiful gown. "Your direction," she drawled slowly in a gentle Creole accent, "is to go on straight for t'ree paces." She smiled, showing a mouth of silver teeth. She crossed the room, taking in the girl in his arms. "This is her?"

"Yes."

She chuckled softly. "That kind of travel is very tirin'. Her brought you bot' with her own will." He blinked. "There is a bed in the nex' room. Let her rest dere."

"Thank you."

"There is also boots. I believe they will suit ya bettah than the shoe ya have."

"Again, thank you." He set her down in the next room—gosh was she a heavy sleeper—and gently removed a slick strand of hair from her face in a gentle caress. "Rest up, pet," he murmured. "It tastes a lie to say this won't be an adventure." He stood and left to go properly meet this Tia Dalma.

"Ya care deeply for her," the woman said with a certain tone in her voice.

He smiled momentarily. "She's my only family, you could say." An albino anaconda slithered from the branch of a small tree growing through the window opposite them and out the empty frame. Preoccupied by its movement, he did not notice the mystic had approached him until her voice sounded at his shoulder.

"Then you must cherish her forever and always." She stood before him, hand rising as she scrutinized his face. "Dese scars," she reached up, tracing a deep tear track with a slender finger. "Dem by your hand, aren't dem?" He said nothing, merely blinked. "Why would you do that?" she asked softly, hands still inspecting said age-old wounds. A soft breeze through the open window ruffled the feathers woven into her hair.

He did not react to the touch aside from scowling. "I had to make myself look the proper age whilst in the Navy." He suddenly caught her hand and pushed it away. "Don't touch me."

"Ah," she smiled, "the Commodore is not comfortable in my home?"

"The fact that you can touch me is a detail I had not been prepared for."

"Den he does not trust me."

"I don't know if I ever have," he replied on the defensive, before sighing apologetically. "I just...don't know what to expect. I would feel better knowing what we are up against."

"...And issues concerning him personal space."

"Fine, yes, I admit it." She laughed amiably. He dropped the scowl, but his face did not soften. "How...did you know they were scars?" he asked with sudden curiosity.

"I can see what others cannot." She led him to the table and invited him to sit, sitting herself opposite him. "Let m'see ya hand." And he did, in spite of his inner debate on whether or not this woman could be trusted.

Amy opened her eyes, taking in the room around her. "Don't remember inviting you," she greeted an albino anaconda which had moved on her stomach. It raised its head and looked her in the face. It was somewhat chilling, making eye contact with a snake. A blue forked tongue flicked out to inspect her, and said reptile slithered up past her head and out the window. Dotdotdot, thought she to herself. She rose, yawning and stretching before venturing into the next room.

"Good morning to you," she said to James upon seeing him, as he sat at the table, cleaning out the dirt under his nails with a dull dirk.

"With bright yellow cobras," he finished the thought.

"Anacondas, actually," she grinned. "I see we made it safely to Tia Dalma's."

"Yes."

"How long have I been out?"

"All night. Madam Dalma informed me that you used your 'abilities' to get us both here, and exhausted yourself."

"You've met her?"

"Mm-hmm," he bobbed his head.

"Where is she?"

"She left some time ago; she did not say where, nor when she might be returning." He didn't sound like he approved.

"Oh."

"In the meantime, you really may want to wash up. We landed in mud when we arrived, and my dear, you're filthy."

She looked herself up and down. "...Oh..." He tried to hide his smirk as he went back to his nails. "Thanks." She stepped outside onto the small porch, the smell of plantlife and humidity hitting her like a wall. It was nice. She didn't get much of that in the suburbs where she lived. Sunlight streamed down between the leaves of the trees in rays of light, turning the dark swamp into a dense jungle. She took a deep breath of the warm air and took a swim in the shallow water, letting said water do all the work of cleaning while she herself had a little fun.

An otter, surely not indigenous to these parts, swam up playfully. Without another thought, the two were chasing one another in an energetic game of tag. After a while, the creature dove under the water. Moments later, it popped back up and squeaked at her before repeating the action. "I'm sorry," she said softly to it as it popped back up, this time nearer. "I can't swim under water very well." It blinked and nudged her playfully. "Maybe someday, when I either teach myself to swim better or make it possible for me to breathe under water, I'll be able to follow you." It blinked at her, then swam away. Ames heard the creak of a door opening and closing, as well as the clunk of boots on wood, and looked up to see James. He looked different now, naval jacket stained once more with mud, boots instead of shoes, hair growing longer and bushier—and beard growing back in. He nearly looked a pirate again. "Am I sufficiently clean yet?"

"Nearly." He descended into the water. "But you missed a spot right...here!" He splashed her.

"Oy!" she sputtered, shaking the water from her eyes and splashing him back. A splash war ensued, and a while later, the two heaved themselves onto a surprisingly solid bank, laughing. It was good not to be worrying about Jack for the time being. She sat up with a sigh, and he followed suit. "...That was fun."

"Aye."

"I wonder what we're going to be doing when she gets back," she said suddenly.

James' shoulders stiffened slightly, as if he had been hoping that she wouldn't be thinking about the problems they would have to deal with, and he shook his head. "Who can tell with that woman? It looks like we will just have to wait and see."

"How long do you suppose we'll have to wait?"

"Shorter dan you t'ink," came a voice. They looked up to see Tia Dalma floating past in a boat—which seemed to be leading itself. She motioned for them to follow her back to the shack. "Come. Details are important t'ings, an' dey must be discussed." Her boat continued on its way.

Ames and James exchanged uncertain expressions before the latter stood and hauled the former to her feet. "Go on then."

"Nice try, Navy-boy, you're coming with."

Once inside, perhaps by intuition, the lass went straight to the divination table. The voodoo priestess looked up from the crab claws she had been reading and smiled. "Welcome youn' maiden."

Amy bowed respectfully. "It is an honour to meet you," she said politely, hoping James would be proud of her courtesy and overlook her lack of curtsy.

"I assume you have questions before we begin."

"You assume correctly." Amy took a seat at the table across from her in a manner similar to Will's when he had presented the 'drawring of a key'. "Why me? Why now?"

"De forces that have grant you such power have chosen you based on de contents of your subconscious an' heart." Ames blinked. "As for 'now', what is ya age?"

"Fifteen." Her voice had taken on Jack's accent once more.

"Magic is unpredictable and wild, but consistent. De powers normally show demselves when the sorcerer reaches de age of sixteen..." She shifted in her seat. "Sometimes, somet'ing set dem off early. What have you been meddling wid?"

Amy thought for a moment. "The only freaky things I experienced magic-wise were related to Jack being a horse. That must be it. I could communicate with Jack through our minds, and from there, I was able to communicate with you and James. That must be it. It's like a door was opened that I didn't realize I could step through until now."

"And what about this war? Why would the sorcerers and other such magicians be gathering together to fight?"

"It is the fight for life. There are people would use their magic to destroy all life as we know it."

"But who would want any of that? I mean, if they destroy life, they'll be destroyed too!"

"Normally, that would be true—"

"Normally?"

"—but magics unlike anyt'in' in our realms is afoot. Dey want power. De force dat separates de Realms is powerful. If they can find out how t' harness it, then dey will take it for themselves, away from those that need and use it. As result, they will live...an' all else is oblivion when de Realms collide."

"In all the realms, eh?" the girl asked at length.

"Most. Some realms has no magic at all. Others are completely dedicated to harnessing de power — or fighting dem dat want it."

"That's a lot of magic."

"Yes."

"To what point and purpose do they desire that power? It would all be useless if there is nowhere to use it."

Tia looked cackled. "Children often see t'ings good or bad, black or white," gesturing between herself and James. "But dere is no such t'ing as evil. Ev'ry bad t'ing come of dose trying to attain a greater good. It is de way dey go about it dat makes it such an evil thing. Dese magicians want to end all suffering. Dey want to make deir own worlds and create deir own life where dere will be no suffering."

"But that completely ignores the point of life," James interceded. "You don't know what happiness is if you don't have unhappiness to compare it with."

Tia's eyes gleamed at him. "Dere is strong opposition all over. Even if deir goals are idealist, it is too high a price to pay, and de risk of corruption all too real. And in order for bot' sides to meet on a single battle field, reality must twist. Realms will merge wid' one another, and de world order will be thrown inta chaos."

"And what does this all have to do with Jack? I mean, I assume that what happened to him is obviously the work of some magic," the girl went on without missing a beat.

"You assume correctly. Him been mistaken for de Guardian of our Realm."

Ames raised an eyebrow. "Guardian?"

"Yes. This side o' de war, fighting to defend life, has great advantage: dere are beings which are responsible for defending de Realms to which dey belong. They possess much strength and power."

"How could they have mistaken him for something like that?"

"A Guardian can neva be fully human. Because Jack Sparrow serve as link between several worlds, an' can become a horse, him been mistaken for this Realm's Guardian."

"Then who did it to him?—Or—You know what, why don't we just cut to the chase and you tell us what we can do."

"For Jack, him emotions been manifested into living beings. Find 'em, and bring dem here. Once we have them all, we will find de way to merge 'em back together."

"Then how do we find these 'manifestations'?"

Tia smiled. "That is where your magic come in. You shall learn with me how t' use it ta find him."

"I see how it is," she sighed. "I've got to master these 'powers' to help him."

"Not master. Not quite. T'ink of it like a test. When you are deemed ready, it shall be test of your knowledge an' control."

"As in, a test of my mast'ry over sorcery."

"Per'aps."

She sighed again. "So I've got to master these 'powers' to help him," she repeated.

Tia Dalma smiled gently. "Come. De sooner you learn, sooner you can begin." Ames blinked away her worry and nodded. She had to be ready as soon as possible. She had to help Jack before something happened.

And so, the learning began.


Ah, so it's finally begun! I hope my thoughts were less erratic than in the original!

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