He did not have long.

Syrena did not know many things about mankind, save that which had been taught to her by her sisters. And those tales spoke of vile, dangerous, stupid things who thrashed about the waves like injured tuna and were ruled by their lust and greed. They made for easy pray, lured in by the song of the mermaid, their desire for their beautiful faces making it easy for the undersea predators to snatch them down below the surf.

Since her capture she had come to realize that, for the most part, the stories were true. The great dark one...the one the others called Blackbeard...he was a foul thing that she wouldn't even want to touch, let alone eat. The rest of his crew leered at her, made her feel ashamed and vulnerable, though she did all she could to hide this.

But Phillip was different. Where the others gave her cruelty and pain he had provided kindness and understanding. He had stood up for her, sought to protect her. Even when he had been used as a pawn of BLackbeard's to gather her tears, his only concern had been to erase the doubt in her eyes and convince her that he had not meant to betray her.

As she held his body close she mourned those hours spent hating him.

In the end, he had returned to her, to save her, even as he himself was dying. He was ready to face his end if it meant she was safe.

She could not let him make this sacrifice.

And so she had taken him under, swam him far away from that island of death, and headed to the one place left, the one place that held hope of saving him. She felt the call of power rushing through the current and forced herself to go faster, to make it in time...

She only allowed herself a moment to rest when she burst from the water, her tail twisting and seperating into legs as she landed upon the deck of the boat. She was glad Phillip could not see her standing there, to have him realize another of her lies, that she could walk with ease and upon the island she had feigned weakness while hoping to make an escape.

Now she stood upon the ship's deck, wide eyes searching the faces of the crew. She had never seen the healer before, but she knew him all the same the moment she laid sight upon him.

The men parted, silent as she knelled down and placed Phillip's dying body at the feet of his savior.

"Please," she whispered, "save him Captain."

As if the words themselves were some signal, Phillip opened his eyes, staring into the face of the Captain, watching him as he brought a hand to his wounded side.

"Tell me...do you fear death?" Will Turner asked.