A/N- To the Conquistador: I dunno, are you reading a smutty yaoi? If you are, it's quite fine by me…honestly. xD I don't care. Sorry that the prologue was extremely short, I needed a way to open the story up without you killing me in school the next day, lol. Sorry this one's just as short. At least I've written something. The next one you are totally beta-ing. A'ight? Yay for cliff hangers!
Luv,
t3h Captain Emmy
April, 25th, 1723
The day was not exactly what anyone had planned. It was cold, wet; there was no where to hide.
Things were especially difficult for Emily, she would spend hours on end, a tin mug in hand, begging at street corners, begging at people's doors, just trying to live. When it rained it made things many times more difficult for her. The rain only made her shirt wet, unfortunately giving all the men of Port Royal a show, except for when a grateful soul offered her a jacket or a covering of sorts.
Often times, that fine soul would be that of William Turner. Never was he a true friend to Emily, but was kind enough to let her into his home above Mr. Brown's black smith shop. The drunken old man never knew of her comings and goings as she would only leave when she knew he was in a full-fledged drunken sleep.
How ever, the one day Emily snuck in by herself, was the day Will was not present. The room was pristine, as usual, as though he had never been there.
"Will?" the young girl asked, curious of where exactly the man had gone. "William?"
No reply.
Undeterred by him not being there, she took a look about his room. She remembered seeing him today, but she couldn't remember exactly what he said. All she knew at this point was that he had left, but had left quite carefully. She couldn't exactly pin point why, but she knew something had happened.
Spare swords that usually littered his walls were gone except for 5 or 6.
Emily looked around once more, and gingerly took a sword off the wall. At first, the sword felt awkward between her fingers, heavy and clumsy, a gentle swing made it feel feather-light, but upon returning it back to the front of her, it was heavy once more. Soon after, Emily spotted a set of Will's cloths on his dresser, as though they were waiting for her.
Hesitantly, Emily looked at the sword, to the cloths, and once more to the sword. There was nothing left for her in Port Royal, so she slowly lifted the sword to just under her ear, unsure of where her journey would take her.