Chapter 21: Tainted White Roses

Cold silvery eyes looked into the heated silvery ones. A little girl with black hair walked up to a tree where a lithe woman was leaned against with crossed arms. The little girl stopped to look up at the black-haired pale woman who observed her. The air around the woman sparkling with unknown powers and magic.

The girl looked up at her with wide innocent and curious eyes, her orbs silvery like the woman's, except warmer with the spark of life. The beautiful woman cocked her head and pushed herself off the rough tree bark as she walked up to the small black-haired girl stealthily.

The woman knew she was intimidating and expected the child to run away, but the girl stood her ground and did something she didn't expect… she smiled. A cute, warm smile that made dimples appear on her rosy cheeks.

"Why don't you run?" the woman asked, her voice flowing out of her mouth like a calm yet cool river. The little girl looked up at her and reached for the woman's arm as she pulled her down. The woman crouched to reach eye level with the girl.

"Why should I Chrysta?" the little girl's voice asked, her voice so childlike and pure. The woman's eyes didn't even darken in thought; she was impassive and good at hiding what she felt, including surprise. She reached up a hand and brushed the little girl's petal-soft cheek.

"Do I not scare you?" the woman asked a recognizable yet scarce hope in her voice. A hope that the girl wouldn't run away, afraid.

"There are scarier things out there," the girl replied, her eyes darkening with sorrow.

"Like what?" the woman named Chrysta asked steadily.

"The dark…why have you fallen to the dark Chrysta?" the little girl asked. Chrysta looked at her impassively but confused.

"What do you mean? I don't understand."

"Why have you fallen to the dark arts?" the girl said more frantically as her eyes took on a wild look and her grasp on Chrysta's hand tightened. For a few moments, they were both silent staring into each other's eyes.

"Reasons…" Chrysta replied frigidly.

"Reasons can be everything," the little girl said as she smiled. Chrysta looked at the girl observably.

"Come with me," the girl offered as she tugged Chrysta's arms towards a familiar path, the one that lead to her cabin.

"Where are you taking me?" Chrysta asked although she knew.

"Why do you ask if you know?"

Chrysta was shocked, as the girl tugged her along the path, but didn't say a word. As the cabin came into view, the girl stopped abruptly in front of some white-rose bushes. The little girl let go of Chrysta's hand and skipped towards the roses. Chrysta looked at the girl entranced, as the girl fluidly touched a white petal softly.

"These are my mum's favourite," the girl murmured, her eyes once again filling with sorrow…a sorrow Chrysta seemed to feel in her empty soul. Chrysta walked up to her silently.

"They were my mum's favourite too."

"Where is your mum?"

"She's dead," Chrysta said sharply.

"Hmm. That's so sad," the girl's eyes darkened with more intense sorrow, her lip trembled.

Chrysta merely looked at the little girl, almost feeling guilty for being so insensitive to her. The girl then turned around her eyes light again and a smile on her lively face.

"I want you to come see my mum," the girl said, as she grabbed Chrysta's arm and dragged her towards her cabin. Chrysta was in a sudden daze, somehow this seemed too familiar, the way the girl had frailly touched the rose. She thought hard and remembered the day her mother had been killed and the way Chrysta, herself, had touched the rose before she had entered the cabin to find her mother dead. A feeling of foreboding took over Chrysta, as the girl swung the door open.

Chrysta's eyes fluttered open, regretting when she did when they started to sting. She closed them tightly and then she blinked them back open to look at her surroundings. Confusion and fear gripped her as she noticed she was surrounded by water, namely the ocean. She looked up at could faintly see the sun's rays reaching into the blue-turquoise water. A school of black, blue-finned fish swimming by her.

Chrysta felt her lungs aching; she had been holding her breath for who knows how long. Her mind told her to move towards the sun, but something else told her to move towards the dark. She looked up and then down, her body aching painfully. Her eyes widened when she looked down, there was a figure floating lifelessly and she squinted her stinging eyes.

She swam as quickly as she could towards it, memories of the storm and Davis running through her mind. As she swam towards the figure, she felt something grab her leg. Chrysta turned around roughly kicking at the figure, and relief washed over her as she saw the familiar shadowed swimming body of Davis. His eyes relieved as he motioned for her to swim up with him. Chrysta shook her head, as she turned around and dove downwards.

Davis surfaced quickly for air. The breezy air feeling miraculous, he took in deep gulps and glanced at the sky that was now a bright blue, decorated with a few casual fluffy white clouds and the glorious hot sun. Then he dove back down for Chrysta.

Chrysta had reached the figure and her eyes widened when she saw Jack Sparrow. Her emotions hit her hard and she felt like sobbing. Her throat ached from the force of trying to hold it in. She swam harder and faster towards him, the only sound was the loud deafening thumps of her heart. Time seemed to slow down, it was like a nightmare where you put everything in moving forward and yet seemed to be going backwards or not fast enough.

Her lungs felt like they were going to burst, but most of the pain she felt was in her heart. She didn't think, she just felt. As she reached him, she hugged him towards her, his body limp. The current of the ocean pushing them into deeper and darker waters. She couldn't feel his heart beat through his chest, a painful agony ran through her veins from her heart. She looked into his face, as she traced a cheekbone and pressed her lips towards his, sealing both their lips shut, and she breathed into him; feeling whatever magic she had left leave her and enter his body. She gave him her air…her breath, hoping it would save him. It was the only thing she could do, because she knew she wouldn't be able to make it to the surface if she tried. Her body drained from all energy, and all power.

She felt her lids grow heavy as all her air from her lungs was given to him, hoping it was a gift of life. Soon her eyesight-blackened and her head lulled back, their bodies no longer touching. Chrysta didn't even fight the blackness.

She would give her life to try to save his, it was irrevocable care. When she had given him her last breath, it was an unspoken and denied proof to herself that she wouldn't be able to live without him alive. Before she could completely succumb to unconsciousness, she realized she may just love him, and with the last thought, she wasn't sure if she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist.

A scream tore from her throat, painfully ripping out of the girl's lungs. A scream full of pain, sorrow and agony. The tall woman beside her looked at the scene with glazed eyes, tears of her own trailing down her cheeks from her empty silvery eyes. Not able to look any longer, she turned and left the cabin. The last words heard from the young girl were, "Mama! Mama! Wake up! What's wrong Mama?"

She walked to the rose bushes, and she reached for the rose. The thorns pricked Chrysta's fingers and she ripped the rose from the bush. She gently grabbed the rose with her other hand as she looked at her red blood seeping through the punctures on her other hand's fingers. Tears blurred her vision, as she heard the broken girl's cries of sorrow. She glanced at the rose, a tear dripping onto one of the smooth, flawless petals; she then touched the petal with a bloodied finger. The blood smearing and tainting the once white and perfect petal. Chrysta looked with awe as the rose wilted and turned black in her hand, and soon she dropped it on the ground.

"Life is cruel," Melinda's voice rang in her ears, almost painfully. Chrysta turned to the cabin, remembering the painful day, that had tainted her just like she tainted the rose. It was a splotch of red in the once perfection, that blackened the whole being.

Jack's eyes had fluttered open, his eyes stinging shortly his lungs aching somewhat but mostly he felt numb. He quickly realized he was in the ocean, and he knew she had saved him. He looked around and saw her floating a few feet away from him lifelessly; her hair framed her peaceful looking face. He swam powerfully towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind as he kicked powerfully upwards…to the light.

"You know, it is soon time for you to go into the light Chrysta. To shine and be happy. I don't like seeing you this way," said a familiar voice, she wasn't sure if she was in a dream or a memory, or maybe both. Chrysta whipped around, and saw Mya by the rose bushes, slowly and delicately touching the roses. Her mother looked beautiful and ethereal; she wore a white gown, matching the petals of the white roses. Chrysta suddenly felt angry.

"How can you expect me to be that way, if for so long I haven't?" Chrysta asked wintry, Mya looked at her with sad eyes.

"Chrysta, I don't expect you to, I want you to. There's nothing better than being happy, and you shouldn't be upset about feeling again," Mya said as she grabbed the black wilted rose off the ground. Chrysta watched with interest as the rose once again was restored to a beautiful and flawless perfection.

"Come out of the dark Chrysta, let yourself trust and love…for there's nothing more beautiful than that. You know there's nothing more beautiful than that. The dark arts aren't meant for a young lady such as you," Mya said.

"Oh but you are so wrong mother. The dark arts are my life, always have been…unbeknownst to both of us," Chrysta sneered, Mya shook her head sadly.

"I once thought like that too, I thought it was my life…but it was a tainting intoxication. After your brother was taken from me I fell into the dark, and nothing good comes out of that. Look where it left me and where it left you,"

"I can't leave it."

"But you could Chrysta, of course there will always be a part tied to you, but you are more powerful than I was, than Avaline was," Mya said, although in her eyes Chrysta could see her guarding a secret.

"What have you both been hiding from me?" Chrysta whispered. Mya sighed.

"It may seem difficult for you but I must tell you. You were made to protect the Atlantean treasure, you cannot let anybody take it," Mya said.

"What do you mean?"

"The treasure cannot be removed, for it was a gift from the Atlanteans to their Gods and the demons of the dark possess the treasure," Mya continued. Chrysta felt shocked, what would she say to Jack, Jenna and Davis?

"I don't believe you…"

"You must, and listen. Melinda will kill you if you don't lead her to it, when you do, kill her and the others who accompany you…including the pirate," Mya said.

"I am not going to do that! I-I care for some of them."

"Then they will kill you, because greed will make them do it. You are of no value compared to the treasure in their eyes," Mya said. Chrysta was furious and she walked up to her mother.

"You lie," Chrysta accused.

"They will betray you," Mya warned, as Chrysta turned her back her fury leaving.

"Not if I betray them," Chrysta said with defeat, she knew her mother was right. Mya touched her shoulder and Chrysta turned towards her. Mya then saw something different in Chrysta's eyes.

"Do you love him?"

"If I loved him, I wouldn't betray him would I?" Chrysta said cold as stone. Mya then saw that the betrayal would cost Chrysta's chance to happiness.

"Would he betray you?" Mya asked, hoping the answer was no.

"Yes," Chrysta said quietly yet honestly.

"Doesn't he care for you though?"

"Yes, but I am of no value in his eyes when a treasure of the greatest riches is on the horizon," Chrysta said trying to sound indifferent, but Mya heard the brokenness in her daughter's voice.

When Jack broke the surface he was greeted with sharp salty air, he pulled Chrysta up with him, her head against his chest and her hair sticking to his skin and hers. He saw a familiar looking blondish head pop up from the water a few feet away from where he was and he called out.

"Davis over here!" he roared, the other person looked at him and relief washed through their face and a bit of surprise at seeing the pirate. Davis swam towards a weakening and tired Jack.

"Where are the canoes?" Jack rasped as Davis helped grab Chrysta.

"Got lost in the storm," Davis said.

"She isn't breathing," Jack, said somewhat shakily, he felt an indescribable pain at seeing her lifeless, her lovely eyes closed. It even hurt him more, when he realized he might never see them opened again, or see her chest rise and fall with each breath she took, or even hear her whispering through his mind. Jack couldn't just let her go if she left; he knew she was an intoxication he couldn't just detach himself from. Davis looked at him with a pained expression and Jack wondered if he felt the same.

"I-I'm sure she will be fine?"

"How can ye just say that? How about if she won't be?" Jack asked angrily, as he grabbed Chrysta from him and pressed his lips to her cold ones, as he exhaled. Davis felt bad and he looked away, he was in denial. If Chrysta died, then she would take him with her…because he wouldn't be able to live without her.

Mya looked at Chrysta, regret in her eyes.

"I wish it could all be different Chrysta…"

Chrysta turned to her with stony eyes, scrutinizing her mother.

"I don't."

Mya shook her head with tears in her eyes, realizing what Chrysta had truly become. She was a shell, a young woman who didn't let herself feel and pushed every one of her emotions out of her soul. A girl who always expected the worst out everyone, the worst out of life and the worst of herself.

"Where am I?" Chrysta at last asked, "Am I in a dream?"

"You can call it a dream or a nightmare, or even a memory. The dark arts play with your mind and your body, this is happening and it has happened and you are neither here…nor there."

"Where?"

"Where you still belong, in the real world," Mya replied. Chrysta was amazed and confused; things were getting too strange…starting with her unwanted feelings that had started to come back when the pirate came to the island.

"I don't want to go back…but I don't want to stay either," Chrysta murmured as she touched a rose petal softly.

"Why don't you want to go back, Chrysta?" Mya asked curiously.

"Because I am afraid…"

"Afraid of what Chrysta?"

"Facing the truth…facing Jack Sparrow and some of my unwanted feelings towards him."

A/N: Thank you to everybody who reviewed once again! All of you are the best! :D

I know things are ...weird... but i still hope you like it. I'm sure it's a little different too, and I hope you don't mind.

Well anyways, feedback is always welcomed. I know I do need improvements here and there, especially with this weird stuff. Hehe :P

-Ana

Preview For Next Chapter:

Chrysta walked into the forest, walking towards the lagoon. She heard a rustling in front of her and she froze, listening intently. The hair at the back of her neck stood on end and she reached for the dagger she usually kept, strapped to her thigh; she cursed under her breath when she realized it wasn't there. She then heard padding against the moist ground in front of her, but she couldn't place if it was coming closer or not.

Review Please! :D