Exposed

Visions clouded Flora's conscious like a wall of fog, though unlike Athair's dreamscape or the nightmares of home, these illusions told a different story. A muddled tale that she couldn't quite discern. Blue smoke spiraled from a bowl uttering an eldritch chorus one moment, only to be replaced with images of a familiar ship coated in sea life the next.

Wh-what is this…? She asked in a strange, befuddled voice that didn't seem like her own. What does this mean…?

There was no answer. Instead the visions continued, weaving in and out in an erratic fashion like waves wading across a distant shore. There were glimpses of worlds beyond the seas, of powers, words, and beings far beyond human understanding. Finally, there were two distinct figures, neither of which were what they seemed. One was torn away from everything they loved and embodied, while the other was broken and in more physical and mental pain than anyone on this Earth could imagine.

Chaos…pain.

Each hallucination was more confusing than the last, but one thing was clear to Flora. All of these visions shared three things in common: The sea, a harrowing transformation, and the claustrophobic feeling of entrapment. Locked away within a different prison, unable to break away and unable to escape, even when clawing and screaming for a way out.

So much pain….

The visions and emotions suddenly came together and began to swirl, forming into a great whirlpool beneath Flora's feet.

NO! You shall not have me!

The girl thrashed and lashed out with all her might, but no matter how hard she fought she could not escape.

NO!

She fell into the maelstrom of anguish, her very skin beginning to itch, crawl, and then burn as she became encased. Trapped from one body to another, both confined, both bound to a single place for eternity.

ENOUGH! NO! STOP!

There was no escape. There was no freedom. There was only pain.

HELP!

Suffering, anguishing pain, and there was no one to help her.

Someone…help…!

She was utterly alone. Alone with no one to ease the suffering, no one to bring relief from the agony tearing her apart! The source of it all, and the key to her escape it seemed, was her heart…

The heart…!

Her hand raised then, a hand deformed and clawed, and with a cry of despair that was not her own, the hand plunged into her torso. Pain exploded across her body, red and black gushed from her chest as she tore out her heart, and darkness filled the void where it once was….

Flora jolted awake, convulsing and choking on breath. She clutched her chest, expecting to find a gigantic open wound blotted with crimson and ink. There was nothing, her torso was clear, and her clothes were dry and free of any bloodstains. Her heart was still there, still beating, albeit frantically, beside her locket.

The girl sank onto the floor, gasping with relief. It was only a nightmare, the tormented emotions and entrapment she felt wasn't real!

Was it…?

Flora heaved in steady breaths, and then sat up as she adjusted back to reality. Dark hair fell gently across her back and shoulders and she paused. Hang on…wasn't her hair supposed to be tied up?

Her heart skipped a beat, and she grabbed at a few strands. Most of her hair had grown past her shoulders while the rest was cut in irregular places in her feeble attempt to keep it short enough to tie up over the years. Her hands started to shake, and she released the strands before gazing upward. That wasn't the ceiling of the sleeping quarters, it was much too small, where was she…?

What am I doing on the floor…?

Something shuffled near her. "She's awake," said a gruff voice. "Go git the captain."

All the warmth and color drained from Flora's body, and suddenly she remembered. The sea serpent, the attack, the-!

Everyone saw you!

Knots of lead tightened in her chest, and she immediately stood up only to fall back onto the floorboards, her body still worn and aching from the skirmish. Gods damn it all! The girl bared her teeth, and carefully rose up this time before looking around.

Iron bars surrounded her on all sides, locking her within a tight metal box in the Glory's brig.

She was imprisoned, trapped.

NO!

The overwhelming panic she felt before swept back over her, and with it, the nightmare of entrapment. NO! Please!

She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes widening, and her insides screaming. L-Let me out.

LET ME OUT!

The girl threw herself at the bars and pulled. She had to get out, break free from her confinements right now!

A hammer cocked in the darkness. "Don't even think about it, witch."

Flora froze, the voice pulling her out of her hysteria. She turned around and came face-to-face with a pistol aimed at her forehead. Her pistol nestled in the hand of Edmund, her fellow crew mate.

"E-edmund…" Flora wavered and stepped away from the jail. An unconscious hand drifted down to her belt. The space where her flintlock pistol used to be was empty, her spyglass was gone, and her sword was missing as well. Of course they wouldn't trust her with those on her person…

The hand crossed the rest of her attire, and heat rushed through her skin when she found her jerkin was absent. All she had on was the white cotton shirt, her belt and belt sash, and her dark brown breeches and boots.

She was all but exposed.

"E-edmund," The girl stammered as she focused back on the crewman. "I-I'm-I'm so sorry-"

The sailor narrowed his eyes. "Seems I was right to be worried about ya, boy," he growled, ignoring the apology. Heavy footsteps sounded down the corridor and Edmund, keeping the pistol trained on her, moved aside as Captain Wilbur and Milo Ambrose approached the cell.

Dread dropped down her throat. Wilbur looked as though he were ready to explode with rage, while Milo wore an expression of sheer disappointment, her sword and scabbard hanging from his hip.

I'm not ready for this, the girl's terrified mind sobbed, I can't…!

Wilbur folded his arms when he reached the front of the cell and glowered. "Well!?" He spat with pure venom in his voice, "Explain yourself, Lawrence."

Flora squirmed upon hearing the name of her fallen disguise. Compose yourself, sailor! Her mind quelled in a poor imitation of Athair's voice. Stand fast!

The teenager exhaled a shaky breath and flexed her fingers. "M-my name…" she stuttered, "My name is Flora Barton…"

If her grandfather's last name had any meaning to the two men, they gave no sign. "I…" She faltered. This couldn't be happening; this had to be another nightmare! Part of her begged for this to be true, if only so she will wake up safe in her hammock soon, but in the end she knew better. Her secret had been revealed, and all the lies she held exposed. There was no choice now; she had to tell them the truth.

Don't tell them everything! Her inner self warned. Think of the consequences!

What is the point? She argued. I am facing the consequences right now!

Flora gritted her teeth and gathered her thoughts together. When she was ready, she straightened out and told the Captain the truth. From her upbringing, the destruction of her home, to her reason for posing as a boy, joining a motely crew, and sailing the Seven Seas. She did not mention Athair, her cursed blood, or most of the unnatural events that encircled her life, regardless of her previous mindset. Much as she despised further deception, some secrets were best kept to herself, especially after what occurred between her and the sea serpent.

"I can assure you, this is the truth," The former cabin boy bemoaned. "All I wanted was to sail the seas and learn. To be a part of this world…and when I was fully educated," Her gaze drifted onto Milo as she brought her tale to a close. "Then I would jump ship and find another where I can fight. I cannot rest knowing my grandfather's killer is still out there. I did what I felt was right…"

Milo pursed his lips, but said nothing regarding Flora's story. Did he realize now why she did what she did? Did he understand why she had to lie in order to protect herself? Or did he see this swindle as a betrayal? He gave no indication of how he felt, and his silence fueled the guilt gnawing through Flora's body.

"Hrmph!" Wilbur glowered, unwilling to let the silence settle. "What about the serpent?"

Flora tilted her head in his direction. "Sir?"

"Why did you summon the beast only to send it back after damaging the ship?" Wilbur continued, his voice rising. "Hmm?"

Flora recoiled, disgust replacing guilt. This is what the man was most concerned about?! "I didn't-I didn't summon it!" She insisted, "I only wanted the beast to leave without killing it! I didn't know what I was doing, I swear!"

"Do you?!" Wilbur growled. "How do we know you're telling the truth? You've proven to be a persuasive liar all these years."

The words stung Flora into silence. "Don't think we haven't noticed you sneaking off every time we've made port, Miss Barton." The Captain informed, "How do we know you really joined this crew to become a woman-sailor? How do we know you were looking for your supposed parents?" He leaned in closer to the cell, his glaring face nearly pressing against the bars. "What are you up to, witch!?"

Witch…The girl backed away, her jaw slacked and eyes gaping in utter disbelief. Did the Captain not listen to a word she said?! She didn't know how she was able to calm the sea serpent and send it away with just words! How can she be accused of witchcraft and dark magic if she knew nothing of it!?

How DARE you?!

Rage seared through Flora's veins, and suddenly she wanted to grab Wilbur's throat and choke the incompetence out of the poor excuse for a captain! "I'M NOT UP TO ANYTHIN!"

Edmund adjusted the pistol as Flora lost her temper. "I swear on my grandfather's grave I was only lookin' for my family whenever we made port! And I never summoned the beastie! How could I!? All I wanted was to drive it off to protect everyone! Haven't I done that!?"

Wilbur backed away and bit into his cheek. He didn't believe her; she could see the doubt etched into his face, which fueled the fury burning through her in-turn. How many times would she have repeat herself in order to convince him that she meant no harm?! Hadn't she proven her worth after all this time?!

I saved yer life and that of the crew's, and this is the thanks I get!?

Before either the Captain or the cabin boy could continue, Milo suddenly stepped in. "The Captain's right, lad…" He began in a low voice, "How can we trust you when you've given us nothing but lies?"

The truth cut deep into Flora and drove her rage to a screeching halt. "S-sir?!" She swiveled onto the first mate. "But this is the truth, I swear…!" she croaked, "I only wanted to do good!"

Milo raised an uncertain brow, "But how do we know it wasn't for your own gain? What evidence do we have to go by? Your word?"

That did it. All the vigor drained from Flora's body as the words sank in. Much as she wanted to deny it, to rage, curse, and fight until her innocence was proven, she'd only be delaying the inevitable. No matter how much good she had done for the Glory and her crew, the odds were stacked against her because of her lies.

To make the matter worse: it was all her fault. She brought this upon herself, even though she'd had no choice.

She dipped her head. "I apologize, sirs…" she said, "I never meant for it to go this far…"

Milo angled his head, but remained silent. "You should have thought of that before coming aboard," Wilbur stated as he adjusted his coat. "Seems we'll be in for a hanging once we make port."

Terror shot through the former cabin boy upon the declaration, even Milo looked stunned at the Captain's decision regarding her fate. "Unless…" Wilbur's red face brightened as a thought occurred to him, and he gestured to the first mate. "Milo, with me. Mister Barg?" He turned to Edmund. "Keep an eye on Miss Barton here until further notice. If she tries anything, you have permission to shoot."

Edmund nodded, and a horrified Flora could only watch as both Wilbur and Milo started on their way. The interrogation was over.

Milo cast one more glance at the girl before he made his departure, a solemn glance that spoke more than words ever could: He'd been right to suspect her this whole time.

And yet in-spite of this expression…"You should have stayed in Port Royal, Lawrence..." He affirmed one last time before following the Captain down the corridor, leaving Flora all but alone in the Glory's brig.

That's it then…Flora's mind, once burning bright with hatred and defiance, admitted in a dim, miserable tone. No matter how much good she had done for the Glory, none of it mattered in the end. They thought of her as a witch, a demon of the seas as the elders from around the world did, and between the serpent and her blood, she was ready to believe it.

Who am I…? What am I?

The questions she'd asked since childhood seemed null. They didn't matter now that she was destined to walk the gallows, regardless of the dreaded 'unless' Wilbur mentioned.

THIS ISN'T RIGHT!

Some part of her continued to rage, pushing her to defy the Captain's decree and search for a way out of this hell before it was too late. And for a moment she did.

She backed away from the jail and examined the iron bars surrounding her. There were a number of ways to escape from the brig; she recalled a few from Athair's lessons. Given the patience and right amount of strength and leverage, she could make her way out in less than a minute, depending on which path she took!

But then what…? The crew would pounce on her the moment she'd arrive on deck, even at night considering the lookouts. There would be no time to lower a longboat to escape. On top of that…

Flora cast a weary glance at Edmund. His eyes remained fixed on her, scrutinizing her every move like a hawk. The Captain chose well in guarding her, Edmund could keep this up for hours.

He will have to rest at some point! Her mind insisted, but it was too late. Exhausted, nauseous, and mentally ill from the interrogation, the girl backed away from the cell walls, and curled up in one of the far corners of the jail, blending in with the shadows as she resigned herself to defeat.

I want to go home…A tiny, childish part of her mind mewled, longing for the days of dry land and a cozy bed, of the comforts she once held and had disregarded so easily…

What home? Her inner self asked. The sea is our home now; it has been for quite some time.

And look where that brought her.

Tears trickled down her sunburnt face like dewdrops on leaves, and though she allowed them to fall, she refused to sob out loud. Instead she held onto her locket, the only comfort she had left in the world, and closed her eyes, wallowing within her failure…

Why…? Milo pondered, Why did you have to go and try and stop that serpent, Lawrence?

Flora, not Lawrence! He reminded himself for the fifth time. It was Flora; Lawrence never really existed now did he…?

It was a pretty name, all things considered, but the middle-aged sailor couldn't bring himself to feel any humor or joy right now. He'd been right to be wary of Lawrence-Flora, ever since he'd glimpsed the strange stains on her attire the day she first tasted the cat so many months ago. He'd known something was odd about her since, and had tried to figure her out by various means without pushing her too far. True, he had gotten some answers out of her, but none of them explained those bloodstains, and now that the secret was out he had to question every single one of her explanations.

The first mate let out a small sigh, and bore onto the back of the Captain as they made their way to the main deck. Did he really listen to a word that girl said, or did he jump to his own conclusions a long time ago? Knowing Wilbur, it would be the latter, and the sailor couldn't help but wonder.

How would he react to Milo's own secrets?

Milo barely squinted against the sunlight when he and the Captain arrived on deck. The morning skies were clear of clouds, and the salty winds were blowing at a gentle pace. It held the promise of a beautiful day, though the atmosphere aboard the Glory was anything but.

The air reeked of blood, rotten fish, and gunpowder, and every once in a while the able-bodied crew, hard at work repairing the vessel, would peer intently into the dark waters surrounding them, as though expecting the sea serpent to return at any moment. The attack had put them all on edge, the fact they were floating within uncharted waters wasn't helping either, but the Devil's beastie was not the only reason for the rising tension.

"Can't believe that corny-faced cabin boy was a lass dis' whole time!" Milo caught one of the crewmen working on the remains of the main mast saying. "Bad luck this is! Oooh, terrible bad luck indeed!"

"Toss her overboard, I say!" said another one by his side, "before the ill will continues and she brings that serpent back!"

"Do you really think she brought the beast upon us like the Captain believes?" A sailor cleaning off the timber debris inquired.

"Hard to say," replied the one next to him. "There be witches and voodoo magic users all over these days. Can't trust any of them, even the ones at the brothels!"

"She seemed so well-meanin' and hard workin'…" An older sailor swabbing poor Brimley's blood off the deck wheezed, "Let's not forget, she drove the monster away when it could have finished us off…!"

"That's true!" Young Ackley spoke up, "If she meant us harm, she wouldn't have helped us at all, right?"

"Quiet, lad!" One of the officers growled, "You'll get a taste of the cat if the Captain hears you speakin' such talk!"

So she has sympathizers…Milo thought uncertainly. He wouldn't admit it now, but he didn't blame them for pitying young Flora.

The first mate took a gander out at sea from the port railing. A number of seagulls were circling the small mounds of skin and flesh leftover from when the sea serpent had been shot, each one eager to devour as much as possible before the sharks caught their scent, if they haven't already.

Milo narrowed his eyes. Was it him, or were one of the gulls looking straight at him…?

A cold breeze suddenly drawled by, and the sailor nervously grazed the scabbard of the sword attached to his belt.

Flora's sword…Did it really belong to her late grandfather, or did she steal it?

"Master Milo!"

Milo glanced behind him. Wilbur was standing at the doors of the captain's quarters and gesturing for him to come inside. The first mate furrowed his brows, and looked over the gulls one last time before reluctantly following the Captain into the great cabin.

When the doors were shut and locked tight, Wilbur took a seat at his desk. "Tell me, Master Milo," he started. "Did you know anything of this beforehand? I placed her in your charge after all…"

Milo stiffened at the question. "Not at all, sir."

"Hmm…" Wilbur held his gaze when he realized Milo dragged the 'sir' out on purpose. "Don't make us into enemies this morning, Ambrose, I am not in the mood." The Captain leaned back against his chair, "that's not why I brought you here."

The first mate folded his arms. "Then get on with it. What do you plan on doing with the girl?"

A brow was raised. "Plan? There are no plans right now outside of the gallows. I only had a thought." He tapped his desk for a moment to allow Milo to take the words in. "The world is once again at war with piracy as you know, Ambrose. Once again, the governing naval powers are grabbing for anything they can to gain the slightest advantage, even the most obscure and unnatural." A sly grin crossed Wilbur's face. "If all works well, I believe we can give the British Empire just that."

Milo blinked and bit his lip. He didn't like where this was going. "How?"

"We give them the witch." The Captain proclaimed, "If she's the one who brought the serpent upon us and tricked us all for all this time, imagine what she could do for the Royal Navy!"

Alarm jolted through Milo's veins. That young lass, a weapon of war?!

"It would not be the first time this happened." Wilbur stood up from his seat and looked out one of the cabin windows. "Sixteen years ago, before they fell out of power, the East India Trading Company supposedly gained control of a monster, the 'lord of the seas' they called it, through means which I cannot fathom. With that monster, the Company nearly drove all pirates to extinction!"

The Captain chuckled, skeptically, "but in the last days of that war, the monster died, and the Company's Lord along with it. Since then, His Majesty ordered a cover up. All records and files of those days were either burned or stored away, and all witnesses of the events were forced to take a vow of utter secrecy. Those days never happened, that humiliating defeat never happened, and there was no monster. Of course, it's all rumors and heresy, but it has me inspired."

None of it was heresy, Milo thought. That monster did exist. I was there, and you would not speak so lightly of him if you knew.

"That is why I would like to offer the girl to the British Navy." Wilbur clasped his fingers together. "She could prove to be a great asset to them, and we will reap the rewards they'll give. If not." He shrugged, "Another witch to face the gallows, we will still provide a great service to the King." He turned toward Milo with a blissful expression. "We can set aside our petty rivalry right now if we play our cards right, and we can retire as rich men if all goes well! What do you say, Milo? Will you help me?"

Milo wanted nothing more than to crack his fist against the Captain's jaw for such an outrageous notion! Give the girl up to the Navy where she will most likely be chained and tortured unless she abuses her powers under pain of death?! In another life, perhaps he would have said yes, but now? You're insane!

Of course he didn't say this out loud. Showing any sympathy toward the young lass would be a mistake right now.

Instead he rolled his eyes and kept his arms folded. "How do I know you won't reap the benefits for yourself?" If there are any to be had?

Wilbur's jubilant face turned upside down. "Accusing me of piracy again? At this time?! Ambrose, I don't want us to be adversaries. I want us to part as friends! I'm a man of my word, you will be rewarded if you help me."

HA! Milo nearly snorted. "Give me some time to think about it. I'll let you know in due time"

The Captain's frown deepened. "Very well then..." He returned to his seat and nonchalantly waved the first mate off. "You're dismissed."

Milo made a mocking half-bow and departed from the cabin. Once outside, he made his way to the forecastle-what was left of it at least-glanced around, and then took a massive drink from his flask. Of course that greedy bastard will try to benefit from this! And under the guise of amending a non-existent friendship as well!

The first mate took another drink from his flask, and savored the sweet, nectarous taste simmering down his throat. Rum always made things better at least, even under the worst circumstances. That, and the sea.

Milo hid his flask away and took a gander out at the endless blue he called home. How amusing that the sea could be comforting one moment, only to turn violent the next. Its demeanor always changes and adapts with no specific pattern, and very few sailors existed that could understand and adjust to those changes, as though they were one with it.

"The sea always watches." A philosophical phrase from his father suddenly echoed from the past, "it knows and sees all."

A part of Milo faltered. He hadn't thought of his father in years! Where did this come from? What would he think of the predicament regarding Lawrence-Flora?

Oh, he knew exactly what his father would say…

The first mate's thoughts turned bitter, and he unconsciously drew out the sword hanging from his hip.

Flora's sword…The bitter mindset turned somber as memories of the girl weaved in and out before him like the tides. The first time she came aboard the Glory under the guise of Lawrence. How eager she was to learn, and the trauma lurking behind her eyes…The way she howled and laughed during the ocean storms, how helpful she proved herself to be for the crew, and the expressions of sheer disappointment-and often horror-whenever she returned from wondering off whenever they made port….

He found no malice in the girl's actions through these memories. In fact, his heart swelled with pride when he realized how much the former cabin boy had grown since their first meeting. Was it possible that she wasn't lying after at all?

That doesn't explain the bloodstains or how she calmed the sea serpent…

Milo turned the sword over and watched the blade glint against the sunlight with an apprehensive frown. There was no doubt that the girl was strange, and that strangeness could get her killed, but there was good in her, as well as strength. A strength that he admired...Flora didn't realize it yet, but given time and experience, she could become a truly great sailor one day, perhaps even more.

One day…

At that moment, the decision was made.

The first mate sheathed the sword and exhaled, begrudgingly. He was going to regret this, but in-spite of the lies and all that has happened, Milo found that he loved that girl.

He wasn't going to let her be murdered or used as a weapon.

You know what this means, don't you? His mindset informed, you'll be going back to your old roots…

Oh, he knew the consequences of this, but at the moment he could care less.

Milo turned about, and an uneasy wind glided by as he made his way down to the main deck.

He'd like a word with some of the crew first…

Phew! I'm sorry if any part of this came off as rushed. The first part of this chapter was not easy to write. Sometimes depicting negative emotions, self-pity, and depression isn't fun! Also, don't worry, the white shirt Flora's wearing is not see-through!

Things aren't looking well for the poor lass now that her secret is out. But, as you can see, she's not alone. She has an ally in Milo, who has his own secrets to hide. What are those secrets? How will he help her? You'll see!