-3 Years Later-

The spindly tower nestled in the thick bush of Brightwood loomed against the sky. Years of neglect had left its once grandiose building decaying away, stone choked by vines, the greenery claiming the tower as its own.

Delilah stopped to look up at the tower for only a moment, her traveling cloak heavy with mud and water. A sword clung to her back, the hilt just visible in the fabric and a small crossbow hung at her hip. Her face remained the same, but her long fire-red curls had been pinned up in a braid encompassing her head like a crown of embers.

She glanced back down the path she had just come, the thick morning air stagnant in the cool of the trees. Birds flitted above overhead and a man stepped up next to her.

"This it?" He grunted, motioning at the tower.

She nodded. "Yes, I think this is it." Delilah turned to face the man and dropped a small bag into his outstretched hand, "As promised Davey, 500 gold for your troubles. Thank you for escorting me this far."

The man took the gold without as much as a thank you, nodding at her as he looked back at the tower, mumbling something under his breath as he walked back down the path they had just come from. The redhead turned back to the tower, pushing the stray hairs back from her face to peer at the stone edifice. She wasn't even sure if Garth would still be here. It had been three years since their initial meeting and the promise of someone helping her had weighed in the front of her brain for as long as she could remember. No memories had returned to her in the years that has followed, so she held out faith that the mage could help her.

She walked down the path slowly, admiring the once majestic courtyard as she approached. Years worth of leaves scattered the grounds, a breeze picking up the most recent layer, sending them scurrying through a once beautiful pond. Like most of the tower grounds, the pool was now choked with weeds and algae clung to the rocks. Nature nipped at each aspect of the old tower, waiting to swallow it back into the shadowy thicket.

Delilah stopped at the door, the wood rotting away. With a deep breath, she slammed her fist against the barrier, the echoing knocks ricocheting through the air like gunshots. After a moment, she could hear movement behind the door, the sound of muffled steps on stone. Finally, the door creaked open and the same man she had seen three years earlier now stood in front of him, his one visible eyebrow shooting up to his hairline.

"D-Delilah?!" He sputtered, "I thought you were dead!"

"Boy, do I have a story for you then. May I come in?"

The mage stood aside wordlessly as Delilah stepped across the threshold, dropping her backpack on the floor. The interior of the building was far more cozy than that of the exterior, the old beams protected from the elements by means of the stone that encompassed them. Inside, the air was still with a pungent aroma that reminded her of sage and black licorice. Wrinkling her nose, she turned and unclipped her traveling cloak, folding it neatly over her arm.

"It's been…"

"It's been three years. Yes, I know. I've tried to not dwell on the past, not when so much of it is unknown." She sighed and finally looked up at Garth, a sour look on her face, "You don't know what I've been through to get here."

"You would be correct. Care to elaborate?"

She sighed and pulled the pendant out from underneath her shirt, "The Shadow Court spared me and made me like Reaver. A doctor in Bloodstone almost killed me for what I did."

"That was reckless," Garth replied, offering her a seat. Delilah took it silently.

"It wasn't by choice." She responded, venom in her voice, "They gave it to me after they told me Reaver needed an adversary. I've been running from him every since."

"You've been on the run this whole time? Where is Daniel?"

"He's dead." She snapped, "Just like the rest of Reaver's crew after everything was said and done."

Garth shook his head. "I have tried to study the Shadow Court. Their dealings in Albion are infamous and only two other people have walked from their clutches unscathed. You are the third."

Delilah's heart rapped against her ribs. "And yet I still don't know anything about where I come from." Sighing, she looked into the dying embers of the fire. "The journey I have taken to get here…was it all for nothing?"

Garth shook his head and looked around the room, "On the bright side of time lost, I think I know how to unlock the memories you've lost. It will take time for me to prepare the spells. In the meantime, tell me of your journey to this place. I have been without company for so long."

Delilah took a deep breath and allowed her body to sag into the chair where she now sat, "Well, it all started when the vessel I was onboard was attacked…"

-3 Years Earlier-

The spray of the ocean cut across Delilah's face and she looked beyond the white-capped waves to see another schooner quickly gaining on Ezekiel's vessel. Heart in her throat, she turned to the wheel of the ship and watched as Ezekiel's white knuckles grip turn the ship sharply to port.

"Dammit, they're on us! Captain Dredd!"

Delilah did not like the sound of his name and the tension it cast over the crew. They moved with haste as the waves became choppy, making her nauseous.

The ship chasing them crested another wave as their own deck dropped out from below her feet as their vessel careened over the backside of a frothy surge. She stole a glance behind them and now saw men moving along the docks, their faces still unreadable with the distance. She clutched the brooch at her throat and thought back on Reaver's words. If they were captured, would she be disposed of? She had nothing of value to offer for her own life.

"Make for the Cliffs of Sarnagara, his vessel is larger, we could outmaneuver them." The boatswain called up, watching the ship gain on them. "It's our only hope!"

"His vessel is larger, boy! He can withhold the storm better than we ever could, and it's coming right at us!" True to his words, Delilah could see the storm gathering, the ocean obscured by sheets of rain in the north, right where they were headed.

The crew had been two days into their journey when the speck was noticed on the horizon. Fearing it had been Reaver's ship, the merchant vessel had pushed its way out to sea to try and outmaneuver Reaver or give him the slip. However, the ship had continued to track them, the vastly superior machine catching up to them as they had pushed back towards the coastline.

Rain began to sting on Delilah's face as the storm bore down upon them, the waves growing higher and angrier. Perhaps she would be thrown back into the sea and wind up on yet another sandy shore, memory once again wiped.

Clutching the wooden railing, she closed her eyes and listened to the cries of sailors as they rushed around to secure the deck, trying in vain to outrun this, Captain Dredd. That's when the first gunshot rang out across the water. This meant war.

Opening her eyes, her fight or flight took over and Delilah ran over to see the other boat bearing down on them, coming up alongside in a fury of salty spray and wood, the bow of the ship they were on crashing into the side of their adversaries. Cannon fire rang out overhead as the spindly mast of the ship came tumbling down. Someone grabbed Delilah and pulled her backwards in the nick of time, the wooden structure crushing the deck where she stood only seconds before.

"Do you have a death wish?!" A sailor hissed at her, shoving her behind two barrels, "Stay here and don't move!"

She did as she was commanded, listening to the sound of gunfire and screams echoing over the storm. Water rushed in from all sides of her, the wood listing further to port as she covered her ears with her hands, wrenching her eyes closed.

Delilah waited as long as she could, the sounds of the storm and shouting overwhelming her and she begged silently to some benevolent force to stop the chaos.

And then it did. With the crunch of wood and a sharp pop, Delilah felt herself go flying backwards in a flurry of wood and blood. A piece of shrapnel pierced her gut as she reached the deck, the remains of a cannon ball finding her skin not long after. Opening her eyes, she could see the movement of feet behind a blurry film. Her body no longer ached nor could she hear the cries of men from either deck. The sweet surrender she had felt in the cave washed over her as she tried to draw breath, only to find her lungs shredded from the inside out. Hot blood slipped passed her lips as she raised her gaze to the sky, the rain not bothering her nearly as much now. The horizon above her head, a sleet grey, pierced by the persevering gulls that circled the fight, filled her with a sense of peace she had never known.

With one final breath, she felt her body go limp and her vision grow dark before the sweet surrender of death overtook her.

This feeling, however, was fleeting. Lights danced in front of her as she saw the world once again come back into focus. The only thing she could see in front of her was red and white. Her body felt as though it had been dragged behind a carriage for several miles. Groaning and sitting up, the sheet she had been covered in fell away as the terrified shriek of a woman echoed through the cargo hold where she found herself in.

Looking around, she saw other one figure also covered in a white sheet, the bloodstained fabric damp from the recent combat. The chase and her inevitable demise came back to her as she glanced down, looking at where the wood had pierced her. To her shock, she saw nothing but the tattered and bloody remains of the clothes that she had been wearing. Pink skin found her fingers when she shoved them through the remains of her clothing. A gnawing hunger ached at her very bones.

"M-Monster! Demon!" The voice made her jump and she turned to see a young boy glued to the wall in horror, his face white as a sheet. His index finger shook as he pointed at her, his eyes wide in fear.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Delilah said, holding her hands up, "What's going on?"

"C-Captain Dredd…he…" He trailed off before starting to cry.

"What's the meaning of this, Mr. Lyons?" A sharp voice snapped as a pair of boots descended the steps that led into the belly of the ship. The man, tall and intimidating, wore a tricorn hat and sported a handsome steel grey mustache that matched what little hair she could see under the cap. When his eyes finally met Delilah's they widened and he stopped dead in his tracks, "What…How are you still alive?!"

"Huh?" Delilah couldn't even put her surprise into words as she looked down at her hands that went to her throat. The pendant still hung against her skin, the metal hot against her body. "I…I didn't expect this to happen."

The man quickly finished his descent into where she was being held, offering his hand, "My lady, forgive me for my ignorance, but you were dead, in all sense of the word. The wood that was extracted…" He motioned to the large chunk of bloodied wood next to her, "You should not have survived that."

"Yet I did," Delilah whispered to herself, thinking about what Reaver had told her yet again. It's why he hadn't shot her in the cave. He knew that she would forever live her life in fear if she was ignorant to the fact that she could return from the cusp of injury. A smile crawled over her face as she looked back at the captain, squaring her shoulders, "My name is Delilah, I'm a stranger in your land. I seek council with someone by the name of Garth in Brightwall."

"Well, Delilah the Undead, I am the Great and Fearful Pirate Captain Dredd." He responded, crossing his arms over his chest, "May I ask you how you returned to this realm unscathed?" His eyes flicked down to her collarbone and widened, "You have dealings with the Shadow Court, I should have known as much. It's only…"

"I understand not many stand in my current predicament," She replied, stepping over a corpse, "May I ask why you felt it necessary to attack us?"

He tipped his hat slightly, "We are pirates, Miss. It's what we do. Truth be told, it's not as bad as you expected. The ship master, Ezekiel, he still lives. The cargo belongs to me, yes, but a life spared is a tale spun in another corner of the world."

"Yet there is one other person here?" She motioned to the other body in the hold.

"Collateral damage, I'm afraid," He said, "He was caught in the same cannon blast that…" He looked at her awkwardly, "Well, you know."

Delilah pursed her lips and frowned, glancing back at the body, "It was shortly after this the vessel master waved the white flag. I try not to take many lives, girl. It's not good for morale."

The storm had all but passed and she glanced around the deck, the weary sailors of the merchant vessel nursing cups of something that looked hot, steam billowing up around their faces. The moment that Ezekiel saw Delilah, his face paled.

"Y-You're alive?" He stuttered, dropping the drink he held between his hands. "I saw you! You were dead!"

"Guess not," She responded, glancing back at Captain Dredd, "Where are we going?"

"I can take you as far as Oakfield, but that's where our paths must divert."

Hope diminished in Delilah's stomach, "So you won't even take us to Bowerstone?!"

"No, I know better than to step foot in that city. Too much bad blood."

Delilah sighed and looked back out to sea, "I know I am a prisoner, Captain Dredd, but surely you can find it in your heart to let me return with the girl?"

Dredd sighed and shook his head, "I try not to spill blood when it is not needed. You are free to go, but only if you swear your freedom comes at the cost of your voice. Use it to spread tales of my conquests, you barely escaped with your life."

Ezekiel mumbled something under his breath as Dredd turned back to Delilah, cocking his head to the side, "As for you, dear girl. Come, we have much to discuss and seldom the time." With that, he ushered Delilah to follow and she did, stepping into yet another cabin. This one was far less gaudy than the one Reaver had inhabited, the golden inlays fading and the windows dirty. "What did you do to grant favor with the Shadow Court? Many have tried, but you are the only one I have met who were given the gift."

She opened her mouth to respond and then shut it again, "I don't know how much I want to tell you at risk of losing my head to the sea."

Captain Dredd waved a nonchalant hand, "You are safe as long as you are with me. By the blood of my ancestors, I will not impede on your moral conundrum."

"Yeah, it's a conundrum, all right." She replied with a dry little laugh, "I have to bring someone every 10 years. Or else."

"Or else what?" Dredd questioned, motioning for her to take a seat in one of the rotting chairs by a dwindling fire.

"I don't want to think about it." She responded, looking down at her hands as she sat. "It can't be anything good."

Dredd nodded slowly, "Aye, to betray the Shadow Court is a fate worse than death."

"And it's not a fate I hope to meet, but the thought of sacrificing souls…" She shook her head, "I don't want to sacrifice a soul."

"It's unavoidable, I'm afraid." Dredd said grimly, sitting down across from her, "Although I am glad to see that Reaver…" He glanced back at her and tried to find the right words, "Has an... adversary."

She scoffed, "I'm barely a threat, let alone an adversary. I'm a stranger here, not even from this place."

"Where are you from, then?" Dredd asked, learning forward in interest.

"I would tell you if I knew." She replied, looking back out the window, "I don't have any memories before I found myself in the ocean and in this entire mess. And holy shit, is it messy."

For the first time since their meeting, Dredd threw his head back and laughed, "Life in Albion is never so simple as one would wish. This wasn't the predisposed path I thought I would find myself on. Far from it, I'm afraid. Yet, here I stand in command of a fleet of ships with one more in tow."

"You seem like you figured it out rather quickly though." Delilah said, "How did you find the courage to make all this," She motioned to the ship around her, "Work for you?"

"Time and knowledge. The latter you have, unfortunately, short supply of." Dredd leaned back and looked her up and down once more, "I like your spirit, Lass. You remind me a lot of my sister."

"Last time I met someone's sister, she tried to kill me." Delilah said with a dry little chuckle. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I think I'm done being compared to other people. I want to be my own entity, you know?"

Dredd nodded and stood back up, going over to the large desk that was shoved up against the wall. Muttering to himself, he picked up what appeared to be an old worn piece of parchment paper, dusting it off as he turned around. "This is a map of Albion. I think it will help you on your travels."

She took it with a little nod, unraveling the paper to read the names of towns and landmarks, sketching out the roads with her fingers. To the north, she could see Wraithmarsh and Bloodstone. Her eyes drifted down to the central part of the country and she pointed at a spot in the map, "This is where I need to go!"

Dredd glanced over her shoulder and nodded, "Of course you'd need to go somewhere that is rarely accessible."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

He pointed at a large blue spot on the parchment, "Bower Lake has the affinity to flood in the winter and the road becomes impassible."

Delilah paused for a moment. She had been in Albion for almost five days and had no clue of the day, the season, or even what year she had ended up in. "So, with that being said, what season are we in?"

"Late fall, I believe. The rains will be starting by the time you reach Bowerstone."

She swore under her breath and leaned forward, rubbing the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger. "What am I supposed to do? My only light in a storm is six months away?!"

"I'm afraid so," Dredd said grimly, rubbing his extraordinary mustache in thought, "I'm sure you will find your way to survive until then." He stopped and then laughed, "Considering you just survived shrapnel to your internal organs, surviving seems to be one of your strong suits."

"It is unfortunate." She replied sarcastically, leaning back in the chair and sighing. "I can't risk not making it there for another year. Is there any way you would help me reach it?"

He shook his head, "No, to reach Brightwood you have to go through Bowerstone and I already expressed concerns stepping foot inside that city."

Delilah sighed again, trying to think of a plan, "Then I'll go myself."

Dredd scoffed, "You? Travel to Brightwood alone? That's like putting your head in the mouth of a Balverine."

"I'm not going to die on that journey, I think we've established that much."

"Yes, but there are bandits who, when they find out you cannot die, will make you wish you were dead. An undead cunt to bat around like a plaything is a rare opportunity to any man.

Delilah winced at the word. "That's a very…crass way of putting it, but I see your point."

Dredd nodded and then nodded back at the man, "Oakfield is only a few day's journey to Bowerstone. I'm sure you'll find information about your friend there."

Delilah closed her eyes. So close, yet so far from the answers she craved so desperately. "How long until we've made it to Oakfield?"

"The journey takes but two days. We should make landfall by this evening."

"I appreciate this information, even if it's not what I wanted to hear. I want to take some time to look over this map if that's okay."

Dredd tipped his hat, "As the lass wishes. Stay here as long as you like."

The warm air folded over her like a blanket as she studied the topography of Albion, tracing rivers and roads alike with her fingertips, whispering the names of towns and landmarks under her breath.

She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep in her chair until someone put their hand on her shoulder, making her jump out of her skin.

"Delilah? We're here." The pirate's deep voice almost lulled her back to sleep. Standing reluctantly, she stretched and followed him back out into the cold air. The sudden shock made her skin bristle and an involuntary shiver passed through her body. The shore, close enough for her to swim to, was covered in hills of oak trees and other greenery, little lanterns flickering through the foliage as the wind blew. The sky ahead, darkening in the wake of the falling evening, still hung low with angry clouds that threatened to storm again.

The ship slowed and the stolen bounty was cut free, manned by several crew members from the pirate's lot, and slipped into a mooring silently. Dredd's ship did the same as lengths of line were thrown to the handlers on the dock. The ship stalled and a gang plank was lowered.

"Come, Lass." Dredd ushered her to follow and she did as was requested of her, trailing him down the wooden plank. They walked down a path lit with small lanterns bobbing on tall wooden pikes. The forest opened into a clearing with several buildings that faced inwards to a quiet, muddy town square. "Over here, we can rest at the inn and discuss our plans for your passage to Bowerstone."

She shook her head, "No, I have to find Garth! I'll go on alone if it means figuring out how I ended up in this damn mess." With new confidence found upon solid ground, she looked around to see if there was signage that would aid her in her travels."

"Slow down there, Lass. Remember what I told you." A strong hand clapped around her shoulder before she could take a step down the path that was marked for Bowerstone. "Come now, we'll rest and find travelers bound for the road ahead. I can spare a few coins for your safe passage."

Delilah paused, then realized Dredd was her best hope in the situation and followed him towards the largest building in the small square.

When they entered, she saw Ezekiel sitting in the corner, eyeing patrons suspiciously like they would rob him for the clothes on his back.

Dredd sat across from the sailor and the man sneered. Gone was the adrenaline-soaked fight of a buccaneer, replaced by the man who had just had his livelihood snatched from beneath his nose.

"You come to gloat some more?" Ezekiel snapped, nursing the beginning of a pint. "You kill one of my men, by the unholy sects that reside on this plane, my passenger you also killed lives, AND you steal my ship?!"

Dredd took his hat off his head, revealing a shock of grey hair pulled neatly back into a short ponytail, "It's what I have to do. I'm sorry for your loss."

Ezekiel scoffed, "How the hell am I supposed to get back to Bloodstone?! That ship has been in my family for years!"

"Yes…I can tell." Captain Dredd sighed and then glance back over to Delilah, "I have no use for your ship, but I will keep the cargo as penance."

Ezekiel pursed his lips into a thin line, "Fine." He stood suddenly, nodded at Delilah, and then at the Captain, "I would say it's been a delight, but that would be a lie. Good luck, girl. You're going to need it in this company, damn pirates." Without another word, he left his drink and scurried out of the tavern.

Delilah sighed out of her nose, the awkward conversation still lingering in the air. "Well, what is your drink of choice?"

She ran her tongue over cracked lips, "Tea, if they have it."

He nodded and left her standing by the table as he walked up to the bar. He seemed to be very familiar with the staff, cracking jokes and making the cute blonde behind the counter blush.

Finally, two drinks in hand, one steaming, he returned to her, placing a massive mug in front of her, "Tea for the lady."

She took it wordlessly, blowing on it before bringing it to her lips. The scalding water burned her mouth, but it was the best damn cup of tea she had ever drank. "What is this?!"

Dredd sipped at his flagon and ushered her to sit, "An Oakfield blend. The leaves are imported from Samarkand and the rest is just local flora that grows in the area."

"It's delicious!" She raved, trying to drink more without scorching her gullet.

"I'll let Phyllis know. She gets so excited when someone loves her tea."

She put her cup down and looked at her companion, glancing back at the tavern staff, "They seem so at ease when you're here."

He groaned, leaning back in his chair, "Pirating isn't all about being intimidating and blood thirsty. It's the story you leave behind when you're gone. What are the stories that will be told about you? I want some of those stories to think of me fondly. They are the ghosts we leave when we slip into the next life."

"That's surprisingly…poetic." Delilah responded, looking back into her cup. "I'm not sure what stories will be told about me."

He smiled at her, "The stories that you leave will be epics. To be young and immortal is the folly of all men."

"It was that or death." She responded, sipping her tea again, "The Shadow Court said that my soul wasn't tied here. It's somewhere else."

Dredd arched an eyebrow, "Is that how you escaped?"

She nodded, "Yes. They told me Reaver needed an adversary."

Dredd scoffed and interlaced his fingers, resting his neck in his hands, "To think something so simple was the key to immortality."

"Simple?!" The tavern went quiet and Delilah realized she had shrieked the word, "Sorry." She lowered her voice, "I want to know where the hell my soul is. I'm still walking and talking. I still feel emotions. Isn't that what a soul is? The ability to feel? I don't understand how a soul can be separated from a body."

He sighed, "That's philosophical."

"At this point, it's physical." She replied bitterly, sipping at her tea, "Why am I still walking around, thinking, still very much able to feel things like I used to?"

Dredd shook his head and sighed, "I'm not the right person to ask. That would probably be better asked by the man you seek."

A wave of tiredness crashed over Delilah and she yawned, "Is there somewhere for me to crash? If I sit in this chair any longer, I'm going to fall asleep in it."

Dredd clapped his hands and stood, "You're in luck. The Sandgoose has some of the most comfortable beds in Albion. Ask Phyllis," He pointed over at a round woman with rosy cheeks, "To get you room. I'll stay here and pick the brains of travelers. See if they're heading to Bowerstone."

"I appreciate it." She stood and walked over to the woman that had been pointed out to her. Phyllis, ecstatic that Delilah had enjoyed her tea, gave her a large ring of keys and pointed up the stairs.

"Third door on the right, love. Can't miss it."

Delilah thanked her host and walked up the stairs, looking down into the tavern when she reached the top. Overlooking the dimly lit bar, she watched as people idly walked around, passing gossip between neighbors. She wished so desperately she could go down and mingle, but she wouldn't know what to say. With a sigh, she walked the remaining path to her room and opened the door. A small bed lay in the corner and a nightstand sat next to it. A small wooden chest adorned the room, but the fare was simple and rustic.

She lay down on the bed, surprised how comfortable it was, and promptly fell asleep, her dreams quiet and still.