It's like the waves of the sea wanted to reach out to the sky, a sign of rebellion from all the tears the gods must been shedding from the heavens. The waters didn't love the world that night. Neither did Jane, daughter of the late and infamous Jack Sparrow. Her father died old and noble. She never knew her mother, but she was told she looked like her. Like Spanish rum, whatever that meant. She inherited the Pearl and all its glory. Much to her father's dismay, she wasn't born a man but she learned to be one.

Jane was different. She liked dolls and dresses, yes. But she liked power, adventure and danger. She always went home with a cut or a scraped knee, playing with wooden swords. She chased the sun. She loved the sea.

Angela, her father's beloved friend, raised her throughout the years, making sure she was 'civilized'. It was when Jane turned thirteen that she decided seeking adventure together with Jack. She would sneak out in the middle of the night, bribing Mr. Gibbs just to let her watch them hunt for treasures. Her courage was innate. She wasn't exactly graceful, but she was exquisite. And she had chosen this because she'd rather break the rules and be free than to be someone else's wife. She knew that's how she would end- locked up in a house with children, doing chores, serving a husband.

A lot of things had happened in the past. Most things, she couldn't remember except the vow she ought not to be broken. Jack made her promise to keep his death discreetly and to continue his adventures. That way, his reputation as a pirate would live forever. Or at least, close to forever. As every good daughter would do, Jane complied and stayed strong. She learned what she had to learn.

She kept her father's red bandana, holding on to his last bit of memory. Captain Sparrow remained to be Captain Sparrow, without the first name.

"No se puede combatir el fuego con fuego." Angela would always say. Her hair was dark but her eyes were light, slightly in the shade of hazel. Warm and kind just like the features of her face. She was aging beautifully. Her skin was fair, an obvious contrast to the language she spoke. A huge contrast to Jane, who was of that descent. Whose skin was olive. Whose eyes were brown.

Don't fight fire with fire. It didn't make sense at all.

"I know how to speak English, Señora ." The Captain said, pretending to not hear a thing, just like she always did. Yes, she was stubborn like searocks.

"I thought we agreed that I'm your Mama." The older woman nudged her. She treated Jane as her own. She was the daughter she never had. Raising Tomas and Franco was a pleasure, but somehow she needed someone to dress, needed to braid someone's hair- and that became Jane.

"And I am to be addressed as Captain Sparrow, nothing more, nothing less." The brunette said jokingly. It was the same old things, same old line she used to say when she learned how to talk. Something about her admired the idea of being a pirate.

Not many people agreed about the way Jane handled things, especially not the senseless fights over pitiful gold and the lives lost. Despite that, Angela loved Jane with all of her heart.

Jack, her father, met her Mama in Trinidad, but she had a funny accent. People were saying that she came from a wealthy family in England and that her parents her Irish. That didn't seem to matter considering she and her family migrated when she was eleven. She was about to get married to a man she never laid eyes on at the age of eighteen but managed to escape. She then met Jack and asked to take her away in exchange of every single coin she had in her pocket.

"My little girl, don't grow up so fast." Angela smiled.

And those were her last words.

Jane would wake up inside the cabin, screaming at the top of her lungs. The great storm. How could she forget? Every creature feared the sea that night. And then there was Captain Hoyt, also known as 'The Hook'—the filthiest pirate known to man. He desired Jane so much. Desired every inch of her skin from the moment he saw her. Some said he was crazy. It wasn't proven until he had Jane's blood in his hands. It was the 22nd of August when the Pearl was attacked by him. Half of the crew was in the tavern. The other half was in deep slumber as ordered.

Hoyt befriended fear, embraced it so just as the waves were dancing and the rain was pouring heavily, he helped himself with the intrusion of a sleeping maiden. It was his techinque— sneaking out, swooping in for the kill discreetly. "I smell lavender and fear." He said as he found her. Indeed, he loved the sight of her slender legs, the scent of her long brown hair. Reaching out his rough hand to caress jaw down to choke her, Jane rose in panic.

The brunette ran as fast as she could, not wanting to be cornered. They battled on the deck, playing cat and mouse. Her youth was a disadvantage. His age wasn't. He was strong that he had her pinned on the floor in no time. He tasted her skin, almost licking it savagely. She tried her best not to cry, feeling the threat of his silver hook against her throat. He had been known to use it for battle— the way he used to kill with such precision. She fought back with her hands and it was welcomed with deep cuts of Hoyt's knife. She screamed. He whispered something against her ear, smirking as he started undressing her. She was losing life in pain. She was helpless or so she thought.

She heard footsteps and the force of hard wood slamming against the back of her enemy's head. It was Angela standing in the rain. Her hands were shaking out of anger seeing her little one looking like that. The next thing was a blur caused by Jane's weakness, partly because she was losing a lot of blood. One thing led to another. Shadows merged. She heard screams. She heard Vincent's voice, the way he pulled the trigger and aimed it at Hoyt's arm. The thunder roared, hitting the sea. The ocean was disturbed, causing it to rise. The shipped moved intensely. Almost everybody lost their balance. Unfortunately, at the loss of that balance meant the loss of a precious life—Angela fell right into the ocean, the waters embraced her. Took her deep within. Her body was never found.

Her nightmares were all the same, playing like a broken record inside her head. It left her breathless and in tears. Sometimes, she would even dream about reaching for her mother's hand but she was too late. It was the only time she had regrets about being a pirate.

Resentments durned into burning desires to drown herself in rum and wine and she did so every single night. She would lose her mind in the hope of forgetting that one cruel event that kept breaking her heart. Being drunk was more than enough not to remember, except there was an obvious reality in a form of her scars. The ones that ache everytime she clenched her fists.

"Master Gibbs! Why is the rum gone?" She slurred inside her cabin, holding a bottle of her precious alcohol. It had been two hours since she woke up and she was already far from being sober.

"That's too much rum for a lady, my love." A familiar voice was rather felt than heard near the shell of her ear.

"…Dad?" She rubbed her eyes and looked around. She did believe in the supernatural, but her father was the last thing in her mind. Oh her beloved father whom she dearly missed. He taught her how to swim and he taught her how to make men cry… as odd as it may sound.

The voice remained to be a voice, except it spoke louder like Jack himself was in the room. "You need an adventure. Go to sleep. Captain's orders." It was what he said to her in his past living years. Jane smiled and stumbled, falling back to bed.

She started to see various images of fog, blood and silhouettes. She was under the sea, above it and then around it. Suddenly, a book appeared in her hands. It had a map leading to a pile of gold but it was implied that Hoyt owned that book. No, Hoyt stole that book. From where… Jane wouldn't know. Murmurs followed, talking to her. "Mermaid… mermaid." It said, accompanying the images of shiny blue fins in the deep.

And Jane dreamt no more. Her eyes were wide open as she gasped for air. "Jorge! Jorge!" She stood walked urgently outside, knowing her beloved friend would be awake.

"Where's the fire?" Jorge was on deck. He turned around and smiled, seeing his captain. Her hair was wild. Her eyes were bright, so full of ideas he used to know.

"I need a book. An old one." Jane panted, practically dragging the man. Jorge was the best man on the ship. He was also Jane's best friend. Like her, he had dark hair and brown eyes. They were brothers and sisters, but people just never saw them that way. They looked like lovers. His strong arms matched her small waist, although, neither of them would agree.

"A book?"

"A book with burned pages. It belongs to the Hook. There's a prophecy, my father is trying to tell me something. I need it. Now."

"I don't know where he is."

"But Franco does. Come on."

They went to the Voyager's tavern in London. The journey wasn't far, but they had to make sure the Pearl would stay hidden. What they were about to do was just as dangerous, only Jane's stubbornness coated the desire to have a clearer understanding of what the prophecy was about.

The tavern was aging and crowded. Franco knew the place so well because that's where he met his first love— a woman named Lilia. Often enough he would go there to woo her. He would see Hoyt and his crew there, talking and planning their sails. He was there for too long to know that Hoyt would be there during this time.

Jane was more angry than scared, having to face her living nemesis. At some point, she considered her idea as bait, but then she'd like to believe that prophecies had never gone wrong— especially when it's from her father. Anyway, courage wasn't about the absence of fear. It was having something stronger than fear.

"Jane, this is ridiculous." Franco almost hissed, his toe hitting a big sea rock. He wasn't able to see because he was forced to wear an old dress. The same way Tomas and Jorge were complaining about her strange plan. Unfortunately, the dresses had matching wigs. Jane fought the urge to laugh when she put make their make up on.

"Shhh… We have to be quiet." They hid behind the wooden stairs. Not far was Hoyt's table. He was helping himself with the brewery and numerous maidens falling at his feet.

"Why do we have to wear this dreadful thing while you're standing there looking like your father?" He insisted, almost ready to shout until Jorge agitatedly covered his mouth. Even though he hated the situation, she respected Jane as a captain and as her friend.

"Because he loves women and in order to be near him....Plus, I'd be a ghost."She furthered. The three got the picture. Only Tomas started being impatient knowing he looked like Jane, even though they were not related. He was handsome. In a way, so was she. "I am not going to kiss that foul mouth of his!"

"Who said anything about kissing, mate?" Jorge countered.

"Let's just get this over with. I am sleepy and I am itchy. Comprendo?" Franco settled the argument. The rest nodded.

It took a while for Hoyt to fall asleep and when he did, Jorge hurriedly snatched the book without using his hand. Some of his men saw them. It was a long race of chasing and fighting, but they ran away. They circled the streets of London, looking for a place to hide since they couldn't risk leading Hoyt's men to finding the Pearl. Jane had enough scars. Her burden was too much to carry and everyone knew that.

"Pirates!" A commoner who stood behind the bushes yelled. Tomas was about to pull out his pistol when one of the British soldiers came.

"Cease them!" He said.

Sunlight pierced through the sky when Jane rose for the second time. Her wrists were bound. Next to her were her three 'brothers', tied in the same fate. It didn't take long for her to realize that they were locked up in a dungeon. She couldn't remember how they were captured, but she could feel the bruises shouting from her body.

"And what would the Spaniards be doing in my territory?" Captain Cavanaugh said as he opened the door. He had a very distinctive scar on his face. He worked for the government, but he knew how to make friends with the right people and by right people, he meant pirates. He wasn't with them. He wasn't against them either. His eyes widened, realizing three of Jane's men were dressed as women. Truth be told, their capture was an accident. Jane's father was good to him, but according to the law, he wasn't allowed to acknowledge that kindness, he wasn't even allowed to consider friendships. But then, power meant power. Nobody had to know.

"Untie me, please." The roughness of Jane's voice reflected a demanding tone. The male captain was kind enough to comply. "With pleasure." He said, taking out a small knife from his pocket. He destroyed the thick ropes in mere seconds.

"I believe you captured the wrong men." She pulled out her own dagger and freed her men.

"Convince me." Cavanaugh ran his finger across the blade of his knife, admiring the fact that he wouldn't bleed. The blue in his eyes darkened. He was an old man, but certainly good looking. He liked to conceal his baldness with a grey wig that only enhanced the color of his skin.

"I know where Hoyt is." She said with such confidence, looking at him. She nudged his friends afterwards, waking them up soon.

"Tell and I'll free you." He raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had not heard of the man in years. Something inside him was enraged, suddenly feeling a rush of blood and adrenaline. The Hook gave him hell. He stole things, he destroyed his ship when he was on his way to France to meet the golden sailor. That criminal was the one who gave him the scar that the defined who he is. He couldn't even look at the mirror without being reminded of his need for revenge.

"Free us and I'll tell you." Jane grinned. She was smart enough to know what Cavanaugh would do next.

They were out of London town soon with her words lingering in Cavanaugh's head. "…in the Voyager's Tavern. He wants the Queen Anne's Revenge. I suggest you speak with Barbossa. I heard he's here too." He trusted her, only to find out that she didn't tell the truth entirely. He knew it somehow, calling what he did as a favor more than a compromise. He would face Hoyt in his own time.

The Pearl started its journey. "Steady as she goes." Jane ordered, staring at the vast ocean. Its waves were inviting. And she finally had the book in her hands. The cover was made of black leather but it had deep scratches. The pages were burned, just like in her dream. She flipped through the pages and found images she had yet to understand.

"To where, Captain Sparrow?" Vincent Gibbs stood behind her, trying to look properly at the map through his broken and dusty glasses. He had been a grandfather to her. His stomach was big and he had gold in this teeth. He had the option to retire, but decided to stay after Jack's death. He figured Jane needed a father.

"Isla Sirena, Master Gibbs. Isla Sirena."Jane gave him a pat on the shoulder. It was a ruse. She was a bit tired and so she went back to the cabin. Vincent took over, asking Jorge to explain what had happened. Jorge answered him with a shrug. Vincent bothered Tomas and Franco instead.