The Dream

The hunt for Jack Sparrow bore no fruit.

Not long after pursuing the infamous pirate and his pathetic dinghy boat, the fog had closed in. The mist was so thick and ghastly; the crew had lost sight of Sparrow within minutes. They tried to continue the pursuit into the night, but between the fog and the ever-looming darkness, it was too risky without getting lost or worse. So, much to the reluctance of her captain, the HMS Greyhound turned about and began her voyage back to the Barton settlement.

Captain Abraham Smith took off his powered wig and buried his head into his hands. He dragged his fingers across his face and stared at the door that led out to the main deck with red veined eyes. What was he going to tell Lord Barton, much less the representatives of the East India Trading Company? That they had lost the most infamous pirate of the Caribbean? Who didn't even have a proper vessel at his command?!

It was utterly humiliating, and it will surely tarnish the reputation of the settlement and those who worked for it. I may as well resign my commission right now! Smith thought bleakly.

The captain rested his hands on top of his desk and sighed. Who was he to blame for this failure? Jack Sparrow? It would be the easy choice. The quartermaster? His first mate? The fog had been inbound in the first place, so they were going to sail into it no matter what happened. The fog itself then? He had sailed through fog before, but it never been as dark and grim as this. Some of his crew members had cowered at the sight of it, clinging to charms and praying as though the fog were some ill omen. An ill omen indeed… Smith thought, though he had to admit the sight of the putrid mist unnerved him as well. It had a green tint to it for one thing, and whoever heard of green fog before?

Smith shook his head. He'll be losing it if he kept these superstitious thoughts up. Tell them the fog was too thick, and we had to abandon the cause. There, that's what he will tell Lord Barton when the time came. It will hurt, but at least it was plausible explanation. Smith reached into his desk and pulled out his logbook. He should be asleep, but if his navigations were correct they would be arriving back on the island within an hour or two, and he was looking forward to resting in a bed that was not at sea.

Smith dipped his quill in ink, and was about to start writing when a knock came at the door. He put the quill down and quickly put his powered wig back on. "Enter!"

Mister Grimmel, the lookout Smith had placed for tonight, stepped into the captain's cabin with large, uncertain eyes. "Captain, something's out at sea tonight!"

Smith raised his head. "A ship?"

"No sir, it's much too small." Grimmel answered, "It looks like a longboat."

A longboat? This far out in open waters? The captain sat up from his chair. "Show me."

Grimmel led Smith onto the deck, and pointed out to sea on the starboard side. It was difficult to make out, but the stars provided enough light to reveal the shape of the longboat drifting in their direction. Smith raised a brow and looked through his spyglass. He blinked in astonishment. Is that a horse…?

Baffled, he waited for the longboat to come in closer before looking again. Sure enough, there was a horse lying in the boat, and resting alongside it was…

Smith's stomach lurched. It was a girl! And not just any ordinary girl…

"Bloody hell, its Miss Flora! Lord Barton's granddaughter!" Smith handed the spyglass to Grimmel and raced across the deck. "All hands on deck! Man overboard!"

She was sailing through the sky. Above her, the stars sparkled and glowed in all shapes, sizes, and colors, and below, the sea had come to a standstill. The tides were motionless, as though the ocean had been transformed into a giant mirror. The only thing indicating Flora was still drifting through water were the ripples weaving gently from the longboat's path.

Flora dipped her hand into the cool waters and closed her eyes as the blue waded softly through her fingers. Between the beautiful night sky, the serene sea, and the melody of her locket, she felt she could sail out here forever. There was no pain, no death, only tranquility, and it put her heart at ease. At peace.

The locket melody came to an end and Flora sighed, gloomily. She sat up to rewind the music box when it suddenly started up again. She blinked and stared at her locket. She hadn't even touched it yet. More than that, the melody that was playing sounded different from the one she knew. It was more worn, more tired, and more…sad.

Tobacco smoke suddenly danced through the air and Flora instantly glanced around, searching for the source of both the smoke and the sorrowful song.

Her blood ran cold when she found it.

There was a large figure sitting apart from Flora, a figure wearing a tricorn hat far bigger and more imposing than Jack Sparrow's. His back was turned to her, but Flora could still make out the ring of tobacco smoke drifting around it. More importantly, she could make out the very non-human hand holding a locket out in front of it. Just like mine…!

The young girl gawked at the figure, her heart leaping. What did this mean?! Who was this man-if he was a man at all? Why did he have the exact same locket as hers?! Is this one of Jolly Roger's tricks!?

She reached for the flintlock pistol, and the figure raised his head. "That won't do ya any good."

Flora dropped the gun. How did he know she was going for the pistol? Trying not to panic, she reached for Albert's sword and the figure inclined his head. "Do ye' know how to use that, lass?"

Her eyes bulged and her arms started shaking. "N-n-no." She stammered, "but-but how do I know yer' not a threat?"

The melody cut off, and more smoke billowed into the air as the figure turned around. "Do I seem like a threat-ah?"

Flora yelped and shrank away. The man had an octopus for a face! Dozens of tentacles hung from his sunken, scaly cheeks, one of them holding an old pipe carved from whalebone while the others curled and writhed with a life of their own.

If that wasn't enough, a giant crab claw took the place of his left arm while a crab limb replaced his right leg, and all manner of aquatic flora and fauna grew across the man's monstrous form.

It was a sight that would have caused most to scream and faint out of fear, and yet in spite of the heart-racing instinct that told her to run and abandon ship, Flora held her ground. Oh yes, the beast was terrifying, and yet the girl found herself feeling more awe than terror. The man-the monster-whatever he was reminded her of the sea creatures she used to draw. And now there's one right in front of me! Speaking to me!

Flora studied him, her gray-blue eyes shining with child-like wonder before she remembered his question and snapped out of it. The man raised a slimy brow when she tried to glare at him, a flicker of amusement flashing through his eyes at her fearlessness. If he wished to harm me, wouldn't 'e have done it already?

Flora glanced at Mildred. The horse was fast asleep. Safe. Her body shook lightly as she finally gave her answer. "I don't think so, no." Flora exhaled nervously before looking up at the man. "May I-may I ask a question?"

He took a long smoke from his pipe. "Ye' may."

"Is this a dream?"

The man chuckled, ending it with a rather grotesque snort. "Ye' tell me."

Flora took a gander around her. The state of the sea and sky were certainly dream-like, and yet the longboat was here, Mildred was here, and Albert's belongings were…

Her heart cracked at the memory of her grandfather. "No-no!" She balled her hands into fists and pressed them against her head, unable to control the tears in her eyes. "N-no more tears…no more tears…!"

Yet the tears still came, and the feelings wrenching her chest only grew worse as she remembered her adopted grandfather's fate, and all that was lost.

A fleeting expression of sympathy shimmered through the man's face as the girl sobbed against her will. He took one last smoke from his pipe before emptying the ashes against his claw. "Yer' injured."

Flora sniffed and immediately scowled. "I-I will be alright, sir. It's only-"

"I meant yer' arm."

She jerked her head up. Her arm! She hadn't tended to it yet!

Flora wiped her face and quickly looked down at her arm. She grimaced.

From her shoulder to a little past the elbow, the wound had swollen into a deep, ugly purple and it hurt every time she touched it. Between the dried blood, dirt, and the swelling, it will surely become infected, if it hadn't already.

The man tucked his pipe into his coat, and removed a faded red sash hanging from his belt. "May I?"

Part of Flora that wanted to say no, she didn't want any sympathy from others, but she managed to push the thought aside and nodded. "Pl-please, sir."

The man carefully leaned over the boat and dipped a part of the sash into the sea, and Flora immediately changed her mind. "No! That will make it worse!"

Her pleas went ignored, and the girl leaned back and braced herself as the man pressed the sash firmly against her arm.

"Relax, lass." The man grunted lowly as he carefully cleaned out the wound. "It will be fine."

Flora blinked. What did he mean by that? Salt water made wounds worse! Shouldn't she be-

The truth wrenched her stomach before she could finish the thought. There was no pain. In fact she could feel the seawater trickling through her open flesh and eating away at the infection.

It was healing her!

"How-wh-what-?" Her legs grew weak as she tried to find the right words for the right questions, but a cat had caught her tongue.

All she could do was watch as the monster-the man finished washing the wound, and started snapping a clean piece of the sash off with his claw. Now that he was closer, she could see the countless wrinkles scattered across his face, almost as much as Grandfather Albert had, and the three scars etched into his slimy skin below his eyes. Despite his monstrous appearance, the man looked so old, so tired, and his eyes were gray-blue like a stormy sea.

The same blue as her own!

Something clicked in the back of Flora's head. The eyes, the locket, the accent…! Once the clean sash was wrapped around her wound and she thanked the man for helping, she couldn't herself. "Wh-who are you? What are you? How do ya have the same locket as I do? How did ya heal me with seawater? Are you-"

The beard of tentacles started to writhe, and the fury growing within the man's eyes shut Flora up instantly. She carefully backed away and kept a weary hand over her flintlock. She'd seen that look multiple times from her headmistress, Marion, Grandfather Albert, anyone when they were disappointed and angry with her. To see that same hostility slithering across this man's face scared her more than anyone else before him.

The man narrowed his eyes at Flora's stance, and the fury gradually lessened. Flora stared, panting a little. What made him stop? Was that-was that disappointment in his eyes?

A gull suddenly called from above, and the man looked toward it. His lips curled into a snarl. "It's not you I be angry at."

"It's…it's not?" Flora hesitated before asking.

"I cannot answer yer' questions. It's not the time nor my...place." He growled the last segment of his sentence.

Flora's heart started pumping, first out of confusion, and then bitter irritation. "Wh-why not?" She cried out as she stood up. "Why can't you tell!?"

He furrowed his brows and his tentacles twitched. "Sit down, girl!" He suddenly commanded, "and let me explain my purpose here-ah!"

Flora flinched and hunched her shoulders as she reluctantly sat back down. "Yes sir…"

He glowered at her until the ferocity faded once more. "I'm here to give ye' a message, lass." He spoke in more steady yet unpredictable tone. "Yer' path is your own to take. The mainland may be yer' best option if you wish. You'll be safe there, but your mot-" He stopped himself from going further, and some of his tentacles slacked. "We cannot look after ye if ye do.'"

Deep within Flora's mind, the truth began to take shape and grow. "Wh-what are you saying?"

The longboat suddenly tilted upwards. The tide was returning. "If ya stay wit' the sea, yer life will always hang in balance." His tone softened, "but we will still be together."

"I-I don't understand!" Flora wanted to scream, "wh-why are you telling me this-?!"

The tide was growing violent. It was becoming more and more difficult to hold onto the boat. Flora gripped the railings and gasped.

The man was fading! She could see right through him as though he were a ghost! "N-NO!"

Tears started to pour out of her eyes, but for a whole different reason than before. "C-come back! COME BACK!"

The man tilted his head at her and smiled. "Come 'ere, lass."

The girl threw herself at the man and wrapped her arms around him. He was still solid, but only just.

She buried her head into his chest. She didn't care if his tentacles curled lazily over and on her head, or the fact he didn't seem to have a heartbeat. She didn't want to him to go!

"St-stay with me, please…!"

He carefully returned the hug, keeping his claw at Flora's side. "Ya won't remember this when ye wake." His mostly normal hand gently caressed her back as his form continued to fade. "But ye'll know inside: you won't be alone. We'll be there. I'll be there. Even if ya can't see us, we're with you, Flora Jones."

"Stay with me!" Flora continued to beg, "stay with me…!"

"Miss Barton, wake up!" Captain Smith urgently shook the girl's shoulders, "You're having a nightmare, wake up!"

"St-stay with me…!" Flora drew in a sharp, painful breath as she finally opened her eyes. She panted, a heavy weight sitting in her chest as she slowly adjusted back to reality. Where was she?

"Take it easy, Miss Barton, you're safe now." Smith assured the child. "Do you remember me?"

Flora fixed her gaze onto the man front of her. He was in his early thirties, going by his facial features, and wearing a fancy uniform of the British Navy that could only indicate one thing. "C-captain Smith?"

Smith nodded, wearing a small, proud smile. "Yes it's me. You're onboard the Greyhound now. We found you adrift at sea in a longboat. What on Earth were you doing so far from shore?"

The Greyhound?! The weight lifted from Flora's chest as she examined her surroundings once more. She was lying on a small hammock set up near a large desk surrounded by various books, maps, and lit lanterns, and she could hear the voices of men working and talking outside the door.

The fleeting, sea-farthing instinct within Flora began to soar. She was on a ship! At long last, she was on a ship!

Her expression of sheer bliss quickly faded, however, when Smith repeated his question. "What were you doing so far out at sea?" He scowled. "You weren't trying to run away, were you?"

The light in her eyes grew dim, and she turned away from the captain. "N-no…"

The scowl faded and Smith's eyes widened at the grim expression that swept through the girl's face like poison. He recalled the state he and his crew had found her in. The burns and bruises her and the horse carried, and the dried blood…"Miss Barton…" He carefully lifted Flora's chin so she was looking back up at him. "Tell me what happened…"

Her expression darkened further. Before Smith could ask again, another knock came at the door. The captain sighed. "Enter."

One of the officers entered. "C-captain…" His voice stuttered as he spoke, "w-we've reached the Batron settlement, b-but…"

Smith angled his head. "But what? What is it?" He turned to the officer. His face was pale, and he was trembling as though he had seen a ghost. A pint of unease crawled up Smith's arms. "Miss Barton." He turned back to the now trembling girl. "Stay right here, I will return shortly." He paused. "I'll bring something for you when I get back, I promise."

Flora watched as the captain followed the officer out of the cabin, and closed the door behind him. As much as she wanted to go out onto the deck, she stayed put as ordered. Every bone in her body ached, and she didn't want to see the state of her island…

She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. The memories of what happened still cracked through her heart like a stone, but she didn't want to think about it anymore. She had run out of tears to shed for her home...

Instead, Flora tried to focus back on her dream. Someone had been with her in the longboat. Someone who was definitely not human, but meant her no harm. She couldn't remember much of his face or their conversation, but she could recall his voice. It was somewhat high pitched and nasally, but it carried an authority and volume that could command the very seas if it wanted to…

She went to itch at her injured arm and froze. Immediately, she removed the blankets covering her and quickly examined her wound.

It was covered with a faded red sash.

Flora let out a small gasp. The figure from her dream had tended to her wound, she remembered that much, but it had been a dream! He had treated her wound with sea water for God's sake! Dreams couldn't alter reality…could they?

As Flora pondered her discovery inside, outside, Captain Smith's heart fell silent as he gazed upon the remains of the Barton settlement. The flames had died out, but the scorched rubble and debris cast a faded red glow across the island, giving it a volcanic appearance that only added dread and horror to those looking upon it.

Across the deck, all of the sailors and officers gathered around as they gaped at the sight of their ravaged home. The voices of confusion and agony began to wail across the ship. "What happened?!" "That was my home!" "What about me wife!" "My son!" "There must be survivors! Surely there must be?" "Look at it you old goat, there be nothing left!" "My family was on that island! MY FAMILY!"

Smith remained silent, lost within the shock of this terrible reality. He had looked through the spyglass, and the sight it beheld only made it worse. There was nothing living beyond those shores. Nothing but the crackling of old flames, and the fading whispers of the wind and the dead.

"W-we…we go ashore…" He ordered in a small, terrified voice once everyone turned to him for answers. "We…we search for survivors. If there are none to be found, we…" He trailed off, unable to finish. As his men lowered the anchor and readied the longboats, Smith's thoughts returned to Miss Barton.

What in God's name had that child gone through...?

Flora finally meets her dad! Even if it's only in a dream, and she doesn't remember much afterward. Also, someone finally hugs him! Seriously, the guy really needed one. Before you ask: No, sea water does not instantly heal Flora. It works more like medicine for her, as it still takes time for her injuries to mend. It has to be water from the sea and not fresh water or salt water from elsewhere.