Rose of the Sea

Isla de Muerta (Again)

Drew's POV:

Pride's sails drop from the mast and billow out with the wind. I sweep Mercy in front of me and all the rigging lines shift to my will. I left the Pearl four days ago, I've just needed the time to think.

I hope Will got my letter and thinks it's as good of an idea as I do. I wonder how Elizabeth is holding up. I wonder what Barbossa is up to and if he's really accepted my offer to captain Empress for me. I've thought about James too, I didn't see him anywhere during the battle of the maelstrom or anywhere after.

I wonder what he's planning on doing now that everything seems to be over. Although James has grown as a man and has settled into the life of a pirate, I know deep down, he'll never stay one. That man is supposed to be a leader, he is meant to build the world. As for Jack, he's reckless, carefree, idiotic...

I smirk at the thought.

Jack Sparrow.

A pirate in every sense of the word. I feel like I should still be mad at him but I can't be. I told him to save Will because I thought I was ready to leave this world. I knew Will and Elizabeth together was worth more than my life, but I'm actually glad he chose me.

When I woke up in Jack's arms, I was glad; I was glad that I was still alive. Even then, my first feeling was anger. I was so mad that Jack saved me and not Will. I felt as if I could never forgive him for it. But it's not his fault, it's mine. I should've protected Will, I promised his father I would.

That's why I'm doing this. To make things right.

I look up from Pride's wheel and notice a dark stretch on the horizon. I guess with the magic of my sword I got to Isla de Muerta before I expected. I step away from the wheel and make my way into my cabin. I stand before my mirror and take myself in for the first time in days.

My hair has grown longer in the past months, it's been bleached lighter by the constant sun and it's tousled from the sea spray. My complexion is tanned and smoothed with the tropical breeze. My eyes have changed too, the hazel no longer sparkles like it used to, but it's taken on a new mood. My stare has grown steady, crowded with stories yet to be told and filled with a hunger for more adventures.

My clothes are torn and splattered with blood, Kraken goo, and who knows what else. I smile and shake my head, what a mess I am, in more ways than one. I turn around to go to my wardrobe but falter when I see my back. My corset had come off when Jones killed me, cut straight through the strings and boning. Shame, that was one of my favorites.

The back of my white, or once white, shirt is completely torn apart. I didn't even realize it was until now. Through the tear I can see a pink scar stretching across my back. It starts at the small of my back and goes all the way up to my shoulder blades. Well done Jones, that's quite a number.

I shrug off the torn shirt and open my wardrobe. I pull on some new pants and a clean white shirt. I tug on a brown corset with red and gold detail and step into my well-worn boots. My dagger gets strapped to my thigh and I buckle Mercy and my pistol to my belt. James' navy sword goes on my over-shoulder strap. I walk back on deck and my eyes fall on my own navy sword that's lying on the wood.

I vaguely remember Jack pressing it into my hands in his drunken state. Seeing I had bigger matters on my hands I just tossed it aside. My name on the blade is crusted with blood, my blood, I realize, and what I assume is Jones'. Will made this sword for me when I was promoted to a Commodore, that seemed like so long ago. Back when things were simple-er.

I take the sword over to the rail and hoist up a bucket of sea water. I scrub down the blade, washing away the blood and nostalgia. Once the iron is sparkling I look up and see the wind has carried Pride all the way to Isla de Muerta.