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"Where do you think she came from?"
"Who knows, maybe attacked…"
"By whom?"
"Pirates… perhaps."
A laugh. "You and your pirates boy…"
"Hush. You'll waken her." The voice sounded slightly indignant.
I opened my eyes and groaned at the sudden exposure to sunlight. A face suddenly appeared in my line of vision.
A man. He looked young, maybe only a year or so older than me. His face looked familiar, with fine features and hair pulled back in a short pony tail, but I could not for the life of me think where I had seen him before.
He turned his head to address someone else. "She's awake."
I realised this was the speaker who had mentioned pirates.
A reply came as a grunt from somewhere out of my line of vision.
I closed my eyes again. There was a dull ache left in my head but the intense pain in my bones and muscles of the night before was gone. I just felt weak.
I heard my stomach rumble. And, apparently hungry.
I heard footsteps moving away from me, then the sound of liquid being poured.
The man returned and I opened my eyes as I felt his hand on my shoulder.
He pushed a large mug of some sort of steamy liquid into my hands.
"Drink this. It will help you recover your strength." He said gently.
I stared at the mug for a minute. It smelled delicious so I lifted it to my lips and sipped cautiously.
It was some kind of vegetable broth and I felt the heat of the liquid slowly spread through my whole body.
"Thankyou." I said gingerly in between sips. He nodded and moved away. I stared at him puzzled, noticing for the first time that his clothes looked …odd. They were old fashioned, very old fashioned. Like 18th Century old fashioned.
I looked around hesitantly. I was lying on a dirt floor in a large room filled with swords, anvils, hammers and …a donkey?
I frowned. "Where am I?"
"My forge." The reply came from the other voice and I sat up and looked around for the source. It was a rather plump and short, middle aged man. He was covered from head to toe in dirt… or was it soot? I wondered as I noticed a great furnace filled with orange coals.
The man seemed to be searching for something in a messy pile on the floor. With a triumphant cry, he withdrew a bottle of some kind of liquid. I watched as he staggered over to a chair and sank into it before uncorking the bottle with his teeth.
I turned back to the younger man, a confused look on my face. The older man's answer did not help me very much.
"I'm Will Turner, and that's Mr Brown. He owns this forge."
"But where am I?" I was beginning to feel slightly panicky. I had no recollection of getting here, nor I realised with a start, could I remember where I had come from. But Will's name sounded familiar.
He gave me a strange look. "Port Royal. I found you unconscious on the beach a few miles out of town." He looked at me gravely. "Were you attacked?"
I shook my head. "I… I don't remember."
Will sighed and turned and pulled a fancy looking coat off a hook.
"What's your name?" He asked as he pulled on the coat.
I paused slightly before answering. "Ebony." That much I remembered. The rest… I strained to try and clear the mental fog that seemed to shroud my mind, but I couldn't. I could not remember anything!
"Any last name..?" He prompted.
"I don't know."
Will's face looked puzzled. "Do you remember where you came from? Are from Port Royal?"
I shrugged helplessly.
He sighed and grabbed a long, thin box off a table before turning back to me. "I am late for an appointment." He said gently. "I will mention you to the Governor, perhaps he will know if there are any ships in the vicinity which are missing a passenger. I'll be back later today, stay here with Mr Brown."
I found myself nodding.
He pushed open a heavy wooden door letting in a stream of sunlight before stepping outside and letting it bang shut behind him.
I lay the now-empty mug on the ground beside me and glanced at Mr Brown.
He was gulping down the liquid from the bottle at a tremendous rate and he seemed to sway slightly on his chair.
He too was dressed in odd clothes, but then again, maybe they were not odd… but only appeared that way to my clouded mind. I could not think of what was considered normal.
I glanced down at my own attire and saw that I was dressed in a long, cream coloured dress. It was tight-fitting around my waist and bodice and was fairly low cut.
All of a sudden a voice loomed out from a hidden memory.
"Here, put this on." The dress was being held out by the owner of the voice, but I couldn't make out the face.
"Are you mad? I'll look ridiculous!" I had said that.
The voice had sighed impatiently. "Not where you'll be going… It will be the 18th Century, you know…"
Then it finished and I pulled my knees up to my chin and hugged them.
Where was I? -- Or should the question be where did I come from…?
I let out a little sob.
I felt scared. Really scared. I was alone here. And I could not remember anything. I did not even know who I was.
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the tops of my knees.
I was alone.
I drifted back into a hazy sleep.
*** *** *** *** ***
In my dream I saw a face. It was a little girl. She looked not older than seven, her hair was a light brown colour and tied in two plaits. Her face was covered with freckles and her smile was mischievous. Her lips and the skin around them were covered in the remains of a chocolate bar, but it was her eyes that drew my attention.
They were the colour of the night sky, a dark, deep blue. Her gaze shifted and I watched their colour shift into indigo. They began to glow, and I realised little dots of light were appearing in them… they looked like miniature stars.
"Would you like to meet him?" She asked, and I was stunned when the voice from a mature woman came from her mouth.
I blinked. "Meet who?"
"Jack."
I laughed but her face did not change, her eyes seemed to hold a seriousness that was not shown on her young features.
"He's not real." I said, but my voice seemed to almost lack conviction. "Do you mean Johnny Depp..?"
"No." Came the woman's voice from the girl's body. "I mean Captain Jack Sparrow. From the movie."
Her voice unnerved me and I gave her a puzzled frown.
"Would you like to meet him?" She repeated.
Suddenly a smile flitted across my face, of course I would. He's Captain Jack Sparrow. The most gorgeous pirate in the Spanish Main.
I nodded. "Unfortunately, he's a fictional character." I said pointedly.
The dream began to fade as I turned away from the young girl, and she called out after me.
"But what if he weren't?"
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I woke up to the sound of chains being broken and let out a loud gasp of shock.
My hand flew to my mouth as I stared at the man standing in the middle of the forge.
He was a pirate, and I recognised him.