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Whoosh.

The gentle sea breeze flew through her hair, raising goosebumps on her skin – but she did not care. Her tan fingers curled around the familiar wooden knobs of the captain’s wheel. She relished every moment of it, her eyes closed as her mind wandered off to wonderland. She felt almost as if she were flying, with the wind at her back instead of in her face. The dreamy sense of flight was fueled by the distant call of seagulls, the gentle splashing of waves, and the soft flapping of sails.

This was what freedom felt like.

She could even smell it all – the salty sea, the wood planks beneath her, and the musty scent of old, mossy brick.

Wait, brick?

Esperanza’s eyes snapped open, suddenly realizing that she no longer felt anything but something hard against her back, nor did she smell anything but that musty smell of brick.

Her eyebrow arched, her brown eyes adjusting to the dim light of her new surroundings. Just a few moments earlier, she was sure she was on her ship, the Rose de la Reine, basking in the sunlight and feeling the rush of adrenaline that a corsair captain would feel when sailing his or her ship; and now… Now, she wasn’t quite sure where she was.

Well, this certainly isn’t the Bay of Biscay.

She turned around, her instincts suddenly begging her – no, more like screaming at her – to touch that grey-bricked, moss-riddled wall. A green haze seemed to fill the room, making her insides twist and contort more than they usually did. Before she knew it, she found her hand already touching the wall – no… not touching…

Inside the wall.

The captain stayed there for five long seconds, her mind ablaze and her mouth agape. She forced her mouth to close as she swallowed, waiting for the slightest sign, the smallest little motion…

Abruptly, the brick wall shattered – shattered? – into millions of tiny glass fragments, exposing a mirror on the other side. A smirking Esperanza Plateaux stared directly at the young captain, her sly smile mocking the corsair’s fright.

What in the name of King Louis is going o–

Esperanza’s thought was cut off by the sudden, familiar touch of skin against her hand. It was Mirror Esperanza grabbing her hand and before she knew it, pulling her into a world that she doubted she could escape from.

Pitch darkness enveloped her.

Esperanza’s breaths came in quick, uneven inhales and ragged, forced exhales. She had never found herself this terrified before, but then again, she had never found herself in this predicament before either.

Tricks of the mind, she reminded herself. They are just tricks of the mind. I am most likely in a dream, with Jacques and Isaiah standing over me, bickering about who should wake me up and tell me we are getting close to port.

Her breathing calmed, a small smile making its way onto her face as her mind conjured up images of her loyal, intelligent quartermaster and her paranoid, slightly pessimistic first mate. Just the thought of her crew filled her with more contentment than she thought it would.

“Réveille-toi, Esperanza,” she forced herself to whisper, hoping that the simple phrase would force her to realize she’s in a dream and wake up. “S’il vous plaît, réveille-toi.”

But even as much as she pleaded herself to wake up, nothing happened. Pitch blackness still engulfed her like the distracting ink of a frightened octopus.

“Aidez-moi…” she whispered even quieter, knowing no one would hear her desperate plea for help. No one was there – not Jacques nor Isaiah; not Kian the cook nor the sail-savvy Chinese twins; not her father nor even her mother, perhaps risen from the abyss of death. No one was there but herself, and even that seemed to be fading.

Abruptly and without warning, a loud, deafening boom resounded in Esperanza’s ears, coupled with a bright light that filled the void; so bright and so loud that Esperanza squeezed her eyes shut and instinctively whipped one hand up to her face in an attempt to shield her eyes from the hot, white light, and the other hand simultaneously zoomed to her left ear. After a few moments, she slowly lowered her hands and cracked her eyes open in a squinted sliver, her ears still ringing from the blast’s audial impact.

Back to the mossy walls.

It wasn’t as dim as before, but she was certain it was the same room she first arrived in, with the brick walls covered in the green algae.

“Uh… hello? Guys? Anyone?” The voice of what sounded like a young male teenager suddenly echoed throughout the hall, gaining Esperanza’s attention.

English? Esperanza remarked internally, her eyebrow arching. So now I certainly know I am not in France.

“Hellooo?” the teenager said again, and this time, the voice sounded very close-by. Esperanza’s heart rate picked up speed. Maybe this man is my way out of here.

“Allo– Erm… Hello?” she called back. The faint clacking of shoes against the old stone floor was muffled yet still perceptible by the young pirate’s ears.

“Is anyone there?” she pressed in her thick accent, half-scolding herself for the rather silly question. Of course someone is there. Why would I hear words if no one was–

“Uh… yeah?”

The response came out more of a question than a statement, but the voice sounded like it was nearby – very much nearby. Esperanza whipped her head to the right, her deep brown eyes widening when she noticed a young man standing there, his hand on the brick wall beside him.

Finally.

She instinctively reached for her rapier in its sheath, but swallowed as she realized neither the sword nor the sheath were resting at her side.

Can I trust him? Well, I suppose I’ll have to.

Esperanza’s eyes dug into the man’s, her signature adventurous smirk making its way onto her face. “It is nice to finally meet you face-to-face.” Her auburn-red eyebrows cocked quizzically as she added, “And your name is?”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

@beth20 ~ Jaylin Storm