Uncharted Waters
1745
Flora's fifteenth birthday came and went like the tide. There were no celebrations, no compliments, nor any gifts. None of the Glory's crew knew about her birthday, some of them didn't even know what a birthday was. While part of Flora enjoyed the solace, she would be lying if she said did not miss the recognition.
Not because of the meaningless parties she often had to endure, but because the day itself felt special. Flora had received her locket on one of these birthdays, as well as Mildred the long gone mare on another. There had been other gifts of course, but none of them had been as cherished or well meaning. Birthdays brought back a lot of memories for Flora, some wrought with misery while others were dear to her heart.
One more year, she thought as she marched toward the Glory's rigging. One more year, and I will be considered a man.
The teenager smiled, somberly. Or she would be considered a man, if she were actually male.
As Flora climbed the rigging to the crow's nest, her thoughts carried her beyond the memories of her old life on land, and through the more recent days of her life at sea.
Within two short years, she and her crew mates had traversed the southern shores of Africa, trailed through the east to India, Singapore, and back, all the way north to London. Now, at last, they were departing the eastern trade routes and sailing back home to the Caribbean.
To learn all there was to being a sailor, and behold what the seas and the world had to offer was everything Flora dreamed of accomplishing. Though it was the result of a tragedy, part of that dream had come true.
The trips on land tended to be short due to the trading business, but in those brief periods of time she had seen and done more than she ever expected, much less imagined. From the different people and cultures, to the faraway landscapes, even the food and animals to an extent, never did Flora believe that she would learn and enjoy so much, and she hadn't been the only one.
While a part of her could never truly bond with the Glory's crew due to her false identity, and a number of crew mates had jumped ship over the years, she'd grown to trust what remained of them. With time, she had gotten to know her crew mates, and in turn, she became confident enough to sing sea shanties, play games, and even swap stories with them like she always wanted. Some of the crew's personal stories tended to be vulgar, and some of the jokes she didn't understand, but she laughed at the punch lines regardless. It gave her a warm sense of welcome, a feeling she never thought to endure after the loss of her home. Even Milo had eased on his attempted interrogations over the years, and though he still had his suspicious moments, Flora felt safe enough to call him an ally, perhaps a friend.
It was her friendship with the crew, the long days at sea, and experiencing the wonders of the world that Flora revered the most, as her two-year voyage had not all been joyous.
The Atlantic slave trade made her churn with disgust and horror. Captain Wilbur assured her that the slave trade was normal, but her line of thinking told her otherwise, and going by the resentment on some of the crew's faces, including Milo's, she hadn't been the only one. Unfortunately, there was nothing Flora could do about it. The undertaking was too vast for a single person to stop. Even with a well thought out plan to free every single slave in the world, the most likely outcome would be her getting caught and imprisoned for her actions. Or worse: marked and hanged for piracy.
The wretched truth had put Flora in a foul mood for a majority of her journey south of Africa, but that hadn't been the only damper on her voyage.
Though she searched whenever the Glory made port, there were no signs or clues on the whereabouts of her lost family. Often whenever she asked or showed her locket, she either earned sympathetic looks and condolences, or terrified gestures warning her to leave and never return. The latter usually came from elders who muttered strange verses and called her peculiar names in their languages.
These instances unsettled Flora to no end, and it only grew worse when translators explained what these names meant: "demon child", "sea spirit", "spawn of the devil", and more.
However terrible these occurrences were, from the slaves, the superstitions, the constant reminder of her lies and unknown parentage, to the news of Jack Sparrow's recent bout in London (Flora had been tempted to rob Milo's secret rum stash-wherever it was-that day), none could compare to the tidings of Jolly Roger.
Word had spread quickly of war across the Seven Seas. From the settlements scattered across the ocean to the New World, all were caught off guard by Roger's return. No one was safe from the skeletal beast's onslaught, not even the pirates and their Pirate Lords. There had been evidence of battle on the some of the ports the Glory had anchored, and with them came rumors of Roger's purpose: To conquer the seas, abolish all who stood in his way, and to capture and slaughter two specific individuals: Captain Jack Sparrow, and a child of Scottish descent deemed merely as 'the Squidling'.
All of this filled Flora with an icy dread that glaciated her insides, though that ice would later melt into a familiar, unquenchable fury. Many were suffering under Jolly Roger's reign no different than she had, and if matters continued the way they were, the seas would be lost.
And where was she? Hiding on a small merchant vessel with absolutely no means of fighting back….
Upon this realization, a candle flickered within Flora's mind. Right then, she'd made her second decision regarding her next venture when they returned to the Caribbean….
Flora shuddered violently and tried to push these black thoughts aside. Until the moment came, she should enjoy the days she had left aboard the Glory. It would be a month or two yet before she arrived back home, so there was plenty of time to spare.
The teenager made herself comfortable yet alert once she reached the crow's nest, and after basking within a salty breeze, she took out her grandfather's spyglass and peered through it. Nothing lingered or stirred across the sea, not even a standard pirate vessel or Jolly Roger's ilk. Instead, there was only the sunset, casting its majestic shroud of colors across the sky while shimmering like an abstract pattern of golden orange against the ocean below.
Majestic shroud, patterns of golden orange…Flora beamed, contently. The words sounded inspired. With a little work, perhaps she could include it in a future sea shanty or poem. The thought nearly made her tap her feet, until reality forced her still. She'd take the time to write it down, or she would if she had her own logbook or journal. The truth was, she had been so focused on her duties and personal mission that she'd constantly forgotten to buy one the moment she could afford it.
The girl sighed sorrowfully at the lost cause, and continued to examine the great blue surrounding her. There was nothing to be seen for countless leagues from where she stood. The sea air was pleasant, and there was no unease in her heart.
The Glory should be safe this night.
Once her shift was over, Flora tucked her spyglass away and climbed down to the main deck, just as a boy four years younger than she trudged by, carrying with him a flimsy looking fishing rod.
Flora blinked at the sight, "What are ya up to, Master Ackley?"
The boy called Ackley jumped upon hearing his name, only to smirk when he realized it was Flora. "Just watch, Mister Lawrence!" The boy stood proudly-and dangerously-near the Glory's bow. "I'm gonna catch meself a stickfish!"
Stickfish? He must mean the large fish with the strange, sword-like feature on their noses. Flora had encountered a few of them during her travels, some at sea and some cut up and ready to eat on land. They weren't an officially registered species as far as she knew, but they made for great stories to tell. "With that?" Flora gestured to the fishing rod. "I've seen how large these beasties get, Ackley, I doubt the line on that fishing pole will hold one for long." She paused, and then smirked. "In fact, there's a greater chance of them pullin' you into the depths than you dragging one out!"
The words shot terror through Ackley's face, only for it to vanish when the boy shook his head and pouted. "A pox on that! Yer' not gonna stop me Lawrence! I've already promised me brother back home! I'm gonna do it!"
Flora chuckled, good-naturally. Ackley was a recent addition to the Glory's crew, filling up the position of powder boy on the account of his older brother. While he fulfilled his purpose to the best of his ability, Ackley's heart lied in the world of fishing above all else. "Alrigh', I won't stop ya." The older cabin boy shrugged before examining the fishing rod again. "You will need a stronger line. Here, let me help wit' that."
Ackley gaped at the unexpected offer, and then beamed with absolute joy. "Greatly appreciate this, Lawrence!"
The girl smiled, and went on to search for a spare rope or line. Shortly after she found one, a familiar draft of wind suddenly blew in from the Glory's starboard side. Flora stiffened as the gust blew over her, and clutched her chest. "I hear you…" She closed her eyes with a sigh, "It's been some time…"
"What'd you say?" Ackley asked.
Flora straightened up once the wind passed. "Nothing…" she replied, her demeanor now hardened and stern as she examined the rope. "Here, let's try this."
The challenges and ill circumstances were not the only affairs Flora had to endure during her voyage; her lessons with the man called Athair had continued for the past two-years.
Always he appeared to her at random. Sometimes Flora would not see him for over a week, while other times he would manifest a mere day or two after their previous session.
Always he was strict, always he pushed her to her limits, and yes, these bouts often drove her to the point of complaining. That was a mistake, and she quickly learned the hard way that any petty or shallow remark she made was like dancing the hangman's jig. Athair's lessons would grow harsher then, his stance more erratic, and he never held back with his unnatural strength as though to prove his point that life was unfair.
It did not help that he continued to refuse answering certain questions, and whenever Flora tried to figure him out, she always woke up with a blank spot in her memory.
Yet despite Athair's questionable attitude and training methods, Flora remained grateful for the man's tutelage, and found his presence almost comforting. She could trust him in a way she never can with the Glory's crew, and under his wing, he had taught her more about swordplay than any arms master could. Some lessons didn't even involve the way of the sword. Sometimes Athair would show her how to fight with fists and feet, how to use the environment and weather patterns to her advantage, and even allowed her to practice firing her flintlock pistol when he believed she was ready.
On more than one occasion, Athair would put her knowledge as a sailor to the test, having her perform certain tasks aboard the accursed vessel he inhabited. If she passed, then he would tell her some of the secrets the sea held. Astonishing, frightening secrets that many would believe only existed in mythology or folklore.
What will tonight's session bring, then? Flora wondered, curiously. She hoped it would be swordplay again. She had contemplated on how to defeat her mentor during his absence, and now she had a strategy in mind that she couldn't wait to try.
"There we are!" Flora finished tying the new line to Ackley's fishing rod and turned to give it to him, only to find the powder boy leaning over the railing, peering intently into the seas below. "Ackley?"
"By jove…" Ackley's voice was fervent with bliss. "Lawrence, come have a look at this!"
Flora tilted her head and gazed over the railing to see what captivated the boy. She blinked when she did, and quickly became captivated herself.
Schools of fish wavered near the surface of the sea, their tiny scales sparkling like silver against the fading sunlight as they tried to consume as much plankton as possible before night fell. The sight enamored Flora. She had witnessed similar events in the past, but there were far more schools and shoals of fish down there than she had ever seen before! It was almost uncanny, especially with the way the light made their scales gleam, as though they were shooting stars instead of living beings.
Between the colors of sunset and silver and the wayward yet majestic motion of the fish, one could have described the moment as almost magical.
BANG!
Flora jolted out of her vigorous trance and instinctively grabbed her flintlock. Was that a gunshot!?
Ackley pulled away from the enchanting sight below, and the remaining sailors on deck halted in their duties as loud, quarreling voices suddenly blared out from the captain's cabin.
Everyone exchanged uncertain glances. Captain Wilbur and Milo Ambrose had become increasingly strained with each other over the past year due to different opinions on duty, trade, seafaring, nearly everything anyone could think of. It seemed now their dispute had finally come to a head.
The crew started murmuring to each other, all too curious and restless as to what the arguing was about. It was Edmund who took a chance and crept as close to the captain's cabin as possible to eavesdrop on the situation. "What are they saying?" Flora asked quietly as she released her grip on the flintlock.
"Shh!" Edmund leaned in close to the cabin, and his eyes bulged when he heard angry footsteps coming straight for him. "Quick-back to work!" He hissed as he bolted away from the door, and everyone except for Ackley went back to their duties as Milo burst out of the captain's cabin, his face a snarling mask of bitterness and fury.
Flora gaped as the first mate climbed up to the quarterdeck and gripped the railing, practically radiating with hate. She'd never seen Milo so angry before, what just happened between him and Wilbur…?
The girl glanced at Ackley. The boy was busy fishing, not wanting to involve himself in the situation. She didn't blame him.
Flora turned back to Milo and froze when she realized a number of the crew were staring at her. Their wordless expressions were all too clear: she was the one closest to him; she should ask what was going on.
Flora pinched her temples with an irritable grunt. They'll pester you until you do, she reminded herself. With that she carefully, and very reluctantly approached the first mate. "Anything…" she hesitated, "anything wrong, sir?"
Milo grumbled beneath his breath before taking out a small flask and drinking all of its contents away with one gulp. Flora had a dark feeling what used to be inside that flask, and hoped the crew wasn't watching. "Sir?"
A moment past before the first mate growled, "That arrogant ass is leading us astray."
Chills pricked the back of Flora's neck. "What do you mean?"
"The quartermaster found a current that will take us to the Caribbean faster than our usual course, but it will take us into uncharted waters, where anything can happen!" Milo's words reeked with disdain. "Our good Captain doesn't care, as long as it gets us home faster for better business. I warned him of the risks, but that bull calf won't listen to reason!"
That might explain the fish…The chills crept down Flora's back like tiny spiders and she gulped. The world map may have been filled in, but that did not mean all the world's seas were fully explored. She'd heard too many stories of sailors and pirates finding cursed treasures and encountering legendary creatures whenever they searched through uncharted waters, many of which did not end well. Most were skeptical over these stories, but Flora had seen enough and Athair had told her enough to believe in some of them.
The girl took a gander at the darkening horizon. It may not be an entirely bad thing, she suddenly thought, the abundance of fish could help us when we're low on food, and what if we don't encounter anything at all?
Wilbur's decision is still reckless and idiotic, her inner self answered, bringing with it a pint of unease, and there is an even chance something bad will happen. You're being too optimistic.
That was true. Still, a part of Flora remained ecstatic at the prospect of exploring unknown territory, even with the dangers it presented. Best not mention this to Milo…
She turned to the first mate as he irritably wiped his face. "Blasted git, this is why I should've been captain!" Milo muttered a few colorful oaths that made Flora gawk in horror before bringing his full attention onto her. "...You're still set on leavin' then?"
It took the cabin boy a moment to grasp what he was talking about. "Ah…" She nodded, "I am, sir. I haven't changed me mind."
It was the decision she'd come to upon hearing the news of Jolly Roger's recent, tyrannical exploits. She had spent enough time aboard the Glory and learned all there was to being a sailor. It was time to move on and find a way to join the battle against the adversary who took her grandfather away. However, that wasn't the only reason for her intentions.
Flora glanced down at herself and her attire. Between Athair's lessons within her dreams and her days at sea in the waking world, Flora had grown stronger in both mind and body. Her pale skin had darkened into a deep, healthy tan; her once twig-like arms were now lean and well muscled, and her wiry form had gone through a recent growth spurt, though that had come with age rather than intense instruction. She was still small in comparison to most of her crew mates, and she still struggled with carrying cargo, but at least no one could safely look down and call her a child anymore.
These changes had been welcome, except the passage of time also made it more difficult to hide her true self. Her attire was getting too small, it was getting harder to keep her hair tied up without cutting some of it, and she had to wrap rags across her developing chest, and even between her legs every month. It would do for now, but her instincts told her that the way things were going, it was only matter of time before someone discovered her true identity. It was all the more reason for her to abandon the Glory the moment it docked back in the Caribbean.
"Better that you do after this," Flora lurched out of her thoughts when Milo spoke up. "Just to be safe. We'll miss you, but it's for the best." He suddenly scowled, "Unless you're plannin' on going out fighting those pirates when you do?"
Flora grimaced. Of course he was going to bring that subject up…
The teenager looked over the first mate. They had been through a lot these past two years, enough that for a split second she felt compelled to tell him the truth. The whole truth…
She perished the idea. Wishful thinking, she thought acidly before continuing the web of lies she oh so loathed. "No sir, I will not. I…have other plans."
"Hmm…" Milo's red-rimmed gaze pierced into hers, "Well, whatever you decide to do, Lawrence, I won't judge you on it."
The cabin boy did a double take. "Sir?"
"Take some bad advice from me, lad." A familiar grin snaked across the first mate's face. "You're almost a man, you can start making choices of your own now instead of listening to old bilgerats like me."
With that, Milo strode down to the main deck in better spirits, leaving a baffled Flora behind.
Was he being hypocritical on purpose? She thought. Or is he drunk…?
Flora bore into the cargo hold when she arrived in the dream world later that night. The area was completely flooded with stagnant water now, its putrid odor wafting through the corridor as the surf brushed back and forth over the stairway. A sickening knot twisted within Flora's gut as she gulped. Here we go again…
Bracing herself, the girl trekked down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she sucked in a long breath, and dipped into the cold, briny water.
Wading through the flooded cargo hold was Flora's least favorite part of her lessons. It enabled Athair to teach her to how to swim, an essential skill for one who wanted to live the hard seafaring life, yet the water was always frigid and murky. It made it difficult for Flora to see where she was going, and the temperature often slowed her down when preparing to train. On top of that, Athair frequently waited for her to swim up to the upper deck, and always scowled when she resurfaced gasping for breath. It was as though he were expecting her to achieve something while submerged, but of course whenever she asked what he never answered.
What does he expect me to do? Flora had growled in shame, hating that she somehow kept disappointing her teacher over and over in that aspect. Does 'e expect me to breathe underwater? That's impossible!
Rain was battering the main deck of the cursed ship when Flora arrived. The sky was grim with billowing black and green clouds, and one could glimpse waterspouts swirling on the horizon. Bollocks!
The girl's teeth chattered, and she pulled her coat over her in a feeble attempt to keep warm. The weather would change regularly in the dream world whenever she arrived. There could be a heat wave one day; clear skies the next, and torrential downpours the day after. There was never a specific pattern, just like Athair's schedule.
The barnacle encrusted floorboards CRACKED beside Flora, and she grabbed the hilt of her training sword without looking. Performing her duties within a storm at sea was one matter, but sparring and fighting within one was quite another. From the blinding rain, thrashing winds, and the more slippery deck, it made everything she learned about swordplay all the more difficult. If she wanted to do well and perform her strategy with ease, she will have to be more careful.
Flora adjusted to the sword's weight and examined her surroundings, her eyes sharp and her ears keen. Athair was nowhere to be found, which usually meant a surprise attack was imminent. She had to be on constant alert, more so now with the storm brewing around her. The teenager explored the deck, searching everywhere from the masts, the helm, the ghastly-looking prow, to the captain's cabin whose doors were always locked to her. There was no sign of Athair anywhere.
BOOM! Thunder rolled overhead, and a violent shudder writhed through Flora's body. Easy…! She exhaled a slow, shaky breath, forcing herself to stay calm. She glanced behind her, and wind swept across the deck as she took a step back to double-check everything.
Something moved by the captain's quarters.
The girl stiffened and narrowed her eyes. No, it couldn't be. It was too easy…
Flora glanced around, and then hid behind the main mast. Keeping a firm grip on her training saber, she exhaled one more time, and then rushed at the cabin with a war cry.
There was nothing there. Nothing except more of the same aquatic fauna that inhabited every corner of the ship, including a pale octopus that appeared to be taking a nap.
Flora recoiled, caught off guard. "Ahh… pardon me…."
The octopus opened a single-eye, and Flora apologized for interrupting its slumber before turning back to the main deck. She was about to resume her search when she paused.
Wait….
She swiveled back to the door. The octopus was gone.
THUNK.
Flora raised her head. Oh there he was, right behind her. Damn it, he tricked me!
There was no hesitation. Flora swerved around and brought her blade down at her mentor's torso. Athair deflected the attack with his own sword, his slimy lips curling into a sneer as the master and apprentice began to duel once more.
The duo moved in a frenzy of crossed blades like a de-ranged dance, each one trying to gain the advantage over the other. Flora's movements were swift and fluid, the way one would describe rushing water. Yet no matter where she struck, swiped, or jabbed, Athair always deflected her attacks with ease. He knew her too well, he was the one who taught her after all.
The man's movements were slower than Flora's due to his monstrous attributes, yet they were stronger and more aggressive at the same time. One wrong move and he could send her hurdling onto the deck with one kick from his leg, or one punch from his claw.
The thought made Flora stagger, and that was her first mistake. OH HELL!
Athair brought his blade down, and Flora held her sword up with both hands to deflect the blow, one on the handle and the other on the fauna-encrusted blade. The sword cut into her palm, and Flora cried out as Athair bore his full strength onto her, droplets of red and black blood seeping down her arm as she was forced to her knees. Athair glanced at the blood and his expression hardened. "THINK, GIRL!" He barked.
Flora was thinking! He had her cornered, and she was losing blood. THINK! Her mind commanded through the growing, pulsing pain. IMPROVISE!
Improvise, that's it! Flora swiftly glanced around. There was a patch of seaweed on the mizzenmast next to them, but it was just out of her reach. She peered back at Athair, a new plan foraging in mind. I'm sorry, sir!
Taking aim, the girl sucked in a painful breath and spat in her mentor's face, a rather disgusting tactic taught to her by the crew of the Glory.
Athair winced; his tentacles slow in their writhing as their owner was caught off guard. Ha! Flora rolled away while Athair was occupied, and grabbed at the seaweed. Once Athair wiped the spittle from his face and charged after her, Flora found an opening for her strategy. NOW!
Flora tossed the seaweed at her teacher like a fishing net, the distraction giving her enough time to rush forward and knock him over.
The man didn't budge.
Both opponents halted in an awkward silence. "What in the-?" Flora tried again. Her mentor still didn't move. "Oh bloody hell, come on!" The girl cursed before trying again, out of desperation. It was like trying to knock a sea-infested brick wall down!
Athair tore the seaweed away from his head and furrowed his brows as the failed attempts to tackle him down continued. On Flora's next attempt, he snatched her up by her coat like a cat's scruff. "And just what the hell are ya' doing, lass?" He asked menacingly as he lifted her to his eye-level.
Flora paled as she gazed stupidly into her mentor's eyes. "Uhh…"
Athair tossed her onto the deck, thankfully onto a patch without sharp mussels, and pointed his sword at her throat. "Dead."
Disgrace and humiliation swept through the girl like a warm flood as she groaned. Of course her plan didn't work out, he was much larger than her! What was she thinking…?
"Ye' weren't thinkin' at all." Athair answered with a snort as though he read her mind. "That strategy won't work wit' your small size-ah."
The back of her head hit the floorboards. "What am I supposed to do then…?" She muttered angrily as she rose back on her feet, hoping that Athair didn't catch her complaint.
Unfortunately, she forgot about the man's keen hearing. "Ye' need a method to atone for your size and stature!" Thunder crashed as his tentacles curled restlessly. "Learn from what I've taught you, Miss Flora, and find yer' own form!"
Flora flinched and the humiliation worsened. At least his response was a little more kind than usual….
Find my own form, the words echoed through her head. Find my own method of fighting...
Her heart sank at the notion. I thought I already did…what am I missing?
The teenager shook her head. She'll figure it out later; there was more fighting to be done!
Trying to stay focused, Flora straightened out and readied her blade, only to find Athair staring at the stormy sea, appearing lost in thought. Flora blinked. This wasn't like him, normally he'd insist on battling further as always!
Unless…"Athair? Sir? I'm ready."
A moment passed before the man glanced in her direction. "Yes, I know lass."
Flora hesitated. His mood had eased down, his voice lowered into that gentle pitch she heard when he first offered to be her teacher…
It was rare to hear it from him these days, but it came every now and then, usually with a compliment or gesture. One time he had ruffled the top of her head in a fond manner when she successfully completed the tasks he assigned her, and even allowed her to hold onto his arm and rest against it when she was exhausted on another. It was all very peculiar to Flora, especially when he sometimes used these tender gestures to fool her in the midst of battle. Which would it be today…?
Athair clasped his hand and claw behind his back. "Best clean out that hand. Before it gets worse-ah."
She jerked her head up. Not again, she almost forgot! The girl turned away to tend to the slice on her palm. Don't cause trouble for me now! She ordered the cut as she cleaned it out, her thoughts lingering on the Glory, I cannot afford it!
She applied sea water to the injury once it stopped bleeding, and wrapped a rag around it before bringing her attention back to her teacher.
Flora jumped. He was standing right behind her. I wish you would stop doing that! She almost bellowed, but wisely kept that to herself.
Athair angled his head and twitched as he looked over his novice, his arms still clasped behind him. "I recall yesterday was yer' birthday..."
Flora's stomach dropped. "Yes, sir…" She started, cautiously. "How did you know that?"
The man didn't respond. Instead he muttered something beneath his breath, and then smiled at her in a way that made her heart stop. He almost looked…proud of her, the way Grandfather Albert did whenever she achieved something. Before she could try asking why or what was going on, Athair brought his arms back in front.
Her heart lurched back to life, and time came to a standstill as she dropped her training saber.
In Athair's hand and claw was her grandfather's long sword.
Flora's jaw slacked, and suddenly she wanted to cry. "You-you think I'm ready, sir?"
"Aye," Was all Athair said.
The girl pored over the sword, examining the gold leaf painted into the handle, and the shining bit of blade poking out from the sheath. Lord Albert Barton's prized sword, and his final gift to her before his passing. Who knows the sights and battles it withstood over all those years…
Flora reached for the handle and then hesitated. She had carried this sword with her and yet was unable to use it for so long, it almost felt like a sin to wield it now.
Enough! Her mind berated such gullible thoughts, I am not a coward! It's okay! This is what grandpa wanted for you!
Slightly assured, the girl gripped the hilt with trembling hands, and closed her eyes before she drew the sword out. The memories of that night washed over her, and she wallowed within that pool of darkness before declaring a silent, vengeful vow.
I promise you will be avenged, grandpa…I will not rest until your blade pierces Jolly Roger's black heart, and all the seas are cleansed of his blight!
Lightning flashed, and Flora's eyes reflected it as she finally drew her grandfather's sword, its blade glistening against the dim storm light as though it had already bathed in Jolly Roger's blood-if he had any. The sword was still a tad heavy, but thanks to her training she no longer needed to hold it with two hands.
She swung a few swipes, and performed a few maneuvers with the sword as she grew accustomed to its weight and balance. All the while Athair watched her, scrutinizing her form and movements as she practiced.
Beautiful sword, he thought with a gleam in his eyes. Yet from what he could see, it was still an ill fit for the girl. It would do for now, but this fact could prove troublesome in the future…
Oh well, there was nothing to be done about it…at least not yet.
Flora finished performing another tactic, grinning as she did, and went on to regard the sword when she suddenly heard another being drawn behind her. She turned sharply back to Athair. The monstrous figure was brandishing his blade again, although it wasn't either of the blunt training sabers. His was a broadsword, and a curious one at that. It appeared heavy and old fashioned, like two ancient Claymore designs forged into one. The sight enthralled the girl. It was like gazing upon a shard of history, and yet it sent chill down her spine at the same time. Why that was she didn't know, but she will have to figure that out later.
"Are ye' prepared, lass?" Athair asked, a sly grin crossing his scaly cheeks.
Flora returned her mentor's sneer, and readied her grandfather's blade. "Yes, sir!"
The duo charged and raised their swords to strike-
THWACK!
The ship lurched to a halt, throwing both Athair and Flora out of balance. The dream world blurred and melted away into a void like water on wet paint. "ATHAIR!" Flora hollered to no avail as a light pierced through the darkness, and the girl returned to the waking world.
Reality spun in a dim, nauseating motion, and bile surged through Flora's throat as she struggled to regain her focus. Someone had lit a single lantern in the sleeping quarters, and through its golden light she can make out the many silhouettes of her crew mates. Some were out of their hammocks and glancing around aimlessly, while others were sprawled across the deck as though thrown, just like she.
"By the King's Crown, what was that?!" One crewman was asking.
"Did we hit a reef?" Another one inquired.
Ice rushed through Flora's veins as the questions sank in, and she stood up weakly on groggy legs. What's going on…?
SHRUNCCHH!
The crew jerked their heads up as though in sync, all eyes wide and veering toward the dark corridor ahead of them. It was coming from the cargo hold.
CRRUNNCH! CRAAACCKLE!
Muscles tightened, and the impulse to flee raced. It sounded like something was biting into the ship!
"Does that sound like a reef to you?" A sailor asked, sarcastically.
Well, I managed to scrounge up enough motivation to write another chapter, and get a head-start on the next. I'm sorry of my writing isn't the best here. I haven't written in a long time, so I am a little rusty. I'll come back and make corrections overtime, don't worry. I also apologize for the time skip, it's the only way to keep the story going at this rate (just imagine a training/learning/traveling the world montage between this chapter and the previous one with "My Name is Lincoln" or "Take My Hand" from Dune 1984 playing in the background).
You'd think that with all of the hints and warnings Flora has gotten that it'd be so easy to figure out Davy Jones is her father, right? Exactly, it's why he and Calypso make her forget whenever she puts the pieces of the puzzle together, otherwise she would have known a long time ago. She's simply not ready for that truth yet, especially after everything she's gone through already (let's be honest, being the daughter of a sea goddess/nymph and the old devil of the seas would be a TERRIBLE burden to carry).
Anyway, major cliffhanger! What attacked the Glory and ruined the moment between Flora and her Dad? It can't be the Kraken because it was the last of its kind and Jones was forced to kill it. You'll see soon enough.