hen I was in gaol in Port Royal for pyracy and Wytchcraft, I was kept in a dank cell. On occasion the bright light of midmorning would be just so from the rooves of the other building and the light would shine in illuminating my otherwise dark world. About a head taller than myself was a window, barred and slicked with black mildew and grime from years of moisture that ran down the walls making them slimy.
But there was a way, that if I were to reach from the stone slab that served as my bed, and precariously stretched just so, hanging by my fingertips, from this vantage point I could catch sight of a tunnel. This tunnel led from the courtyard of the prison directly through to a craggy shoreline and from beyond that you could see the ocean. On days that I was very fortunate, I could actually see ships sailing by. It was the vision of these great graceful crafts that I was reminded that there was still freedom outside of the walls of my cell. Through that window I could glimpse and remember what it was like to live in a world that was clean, not slimy and dark or filled with the rats that both stole my food and terrorized me.
It was by that very tunnel that I left with Captain Christopher Mengs who had pressed me into service aboard his own ship as a cook. My garments, save for the cloak that he had threwn over my shoulders to cover my dress that was made far more of rips than it was of cloth were soon to be replaced. With the smell of brine in my nostrils I walked through that tunnel, a mere two steps behind Captain Mengs, toward freedom.
Muse: Fanny Fae / Faelyn © Ma’at Publishing
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 299