Disclaimer: dont own POTC...

A/N: sorry this took so long. 3 books 2 read 4 da hols...and i have writer's block. chew over these for a while..

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Elizabeth was lost in a fog. She didn't understand where she was. The last thing she remembered was a chilling laugh and the solid thump of a boot hitting stone. She had been in the smithy. So where was she now? Why was it misty? Where was Will?

A sudden sense of panic hit her. "WILL!" she screamed into the silence. There was no reply. "WILL!"

Still only cold, deadly quiet was the answer to her cry.

Elizabeth began running frantically. The ground was smooth, unnaturally so. Her footsteps were muffled; all sound, even her desperate shouts, swallowed by the fog. Even the ragged rhythm of her breathing and the thunder of her heart pounding in her ears seemed muted. It was if she was wrapped in thick layers of silk - seeming to get enough air yet being slowly suffocated at the same time.

Suddenly she heard a dull thump off to her right. She spun towards the noise, now trying her best to be as silent as possible. There was someone else here. Or something.

Elizabeth, against her better judgement, began to slowly move towards the sound. No matter how she got here, and even if she was in no danger whatsoever, she would still feel better if there was someone else here. And if it was Will, she'd be the happiest person alive. Even if she found out that they were on a cannibal-infested island and were moments away from being caught and roasted alive.

"Hello?" she called uncertainly. "Is anyone there?"

After a moment's silence, there a quiet voice floated out of the fog. "Who speaks?"

"Who wants to know?" Elizabeth shot back. This could be a trick question. And the voice was definitely not Will, much to her disappointment.

The voice laughed. "A fellow prisoner. Welcome. How long have you been here?"

"How should I know?" Elizabeth was disconcerted. If she was a prisoner, this was a pretty funny jail. And where were her captors?

"Ah, well," the voice sighed. It was getting closer. "Not everyone remembers. I have no idea how long I've been in here. It's just fog and dust, echoes and loneliness. All blurring into one."

A woman clad in a violet and black dress emerged from the mist slightly off to Elizabeth's left. "You're the first person I've met in here. There are others, but they do not speak english. Mostly chinese or japanese or something of the sort." Elizabeth noticed, now that the fog was not swallowing the finer nuances of her voice, she spoke with an accent. Castillan, it seemed.

Elizabeth studied her newfound companion. She was tall with long black hair tumbling down her back in a waterfall of night. Her skin was once the color of caramel, but now it was the paler color of cafe au lait, no doubt because of her time spent imprisoned. Her eyes were a piercing blue, shining brightly out of the gloom surrounding them. They had once danced with a quiet, mischievious spark, but that glimmer had dimmed and faded. Her eyes were weary and dull, longing for something she could not have. She didn't seem dangerous, just worn, and Elizabeth decided to trust her, or else be caught in an unknown trap in this twilight world.

"My name's Elizabeth Swann. Where are we? And what's your name?" Elizabeth chose to cut the pleasantries short and get straight to business.

The woman smiled. "Where we are? That's a long story, one we might not have time for. And as for your other question, well... My name is Dona Esperanza."