Santago Bay was a small island. So small it was non existent on the world map. It was off the east coast of Spain, and during the battles held in the surrounding seas, often used as a base for ships to re stock on cannons and for sailors to recover from the brutal fights which went long into the night.

The Island's pub, usually derelict, was full of chatty sailors, laughing, joking and engaging in conversation with the locals who so graciously welcomed them with open arms onto their small island. They were fed hot meals throughout the day and were given rooms to sleep in as well as entertainment and beer in exchange for information on the outside world as the old coins the sailors owned were of no use as payment to the people of Santago.

The islanders never traveled, the furthest anyone had been was the water surrounding the island where fishermen caught the food supplies so any information of other countries was like gold to them. Whether it was stories, letters, trinkets or newspaper clippings, they were treated with care and integrity as they had no access to these types of things.

The island twas a small place where news traveled fast and everyone knew everyone so the close knit villagers intrigued the sailors and made them feel at home, relaxed and content. There were tall mountains on the east side of the island where the farmlands were located where some sailors who weren't gravely injured or had grown bored of sitting in the pub all day or lounging on the beach would help out, picking strawberries or ploughing the fields.

A short gravel path could be found next to the pub leading from the small hamlet to the large manor of the Aberforth family where there was often a seasonal party for the island and their visitors. People would dress in their best clothes and head to the manor where an all night long fancy party was held with expensive decorations, exquisite foods and drinks and music from the Aberforth family's homeland.

Fredrick Aberforth was a young English man with a lot of money and when he herd about Santago Bay from a few sailors who had returned from the seas he immediately bought the area of land and immigrated along with his wife Whitney-Jane, one of their maids and his daughter, Victoria.

Victoria Elizabeth Aberforth was a spoilt, rude girl with a tainted personality. She was constantly lavished in gifts from her guilt ridden father who traveled frequently on business trips and her mother who spent most of we time anywhere but with her daughter. Her only companions were Lucky, an overweight pug who's legs were barely visible and her personal maid, a short and timid girl who was usually shouted at for petty things by the rude rich girl.

"You stupid girl! I wanted a pink frock not a peach one! Take it away! Now!" Victoria screeched at the frightened maid who scurried off with the unwanted dress. She kicked and screamed for another hour before she finally found a dress she wanted to be seen in. The seasonal party was tonight and as a 'little treat' Victoria's parents had over 100 dresses shipped over for the night.

"Here's the dress you wanted, miss..." She mumbled, gasping quietly as it was wrenched from her hands by the young girl and thrown over her tightly pulled bodice. The dress was a pale baby pink and 5 paper-like petticoats thick. The bodice of the dress was encrusted with teardrop diamonds sprinkled over which made it look like a layer of dew had settled on the expensive clothing, like the early morning grass. The skirts were layers of grey, pink, silver and white all mingling together to form a tutu of light materials which waved up and down like waves and spread out the length of Victoria's arms. She had the air of a ballerina princess and the dainty patent pumps and her tightly knotted hair added to the look. Victoria smiled approvingly and waltzed out of her room towards the ballroom.

"I am no longer in need of your duties anymore, not until the night is over at least," She called out snootily. The young maid sighed and left the room, heading towards the manor kitchen, eager to talk to someone who had personality, intellect and a brain...

"That girl truly is a sour grape!" Eva, the middle aged cook known for cooking splendid meals in the space of a second exclaimed, chopping the carrots for the banquet angrily.

"Her heads to far up her backside manners and kindness are foreign to her, and always will be." Ada, said, indifferently, picking at the dirt from underneath her nails, resting on the spare stools.

"Aren't all rich snobs like that?" Bardroy, the gardener snorted.

"She really is...."

"Annoying?"

"Self centered?"

"A Selfish, spoiled brat?"

"....loud....." The maid sighed, testing her head on the table. Eva, taking pity on the worn out girl, patted her head and handed her a glass of water which she greatly accepted.

"Loud isn't the word I'd use. More like spiteful," Ava mumbled, brushing her skirt and heading to the door.

"I probably should get to work, drinks to be served, people to secretly laugh at!" She sighed, waving off and speed walking down the hall.

"Yeah, I need to sort the roses for the evening celebrations," Bardroy agreed, grabbing his hedge clippers an heading out.

"Goodbye," the remaining servants chorused and went back to what they were doing.

When the party commenced, the air was filled with up beat dance music, happy chattering dancers mingling to the sound of their native tune. People sat at the long tables sipping wines and chatting about life whilst couples danced, waltzing round the pearly marble floor. However, Victoria wasn't happy. Sitting in the dimly lit corner of the hall, glaring at one young couple who seemed to have caught the eyes of most spectators. A tall brown haired boy with pricing blue eyes was carefully leading a pretty short auburn haired female, who's dress billowed out like a toy spinner as they danced around, stuck in their own little bubble, their eyes never leaving each other.

"He's mine!" Victoria though, kicking the table leg. Each time she caught a glimpse of the boy's face, her heart flipped but fell almost immediately as his image was replaced with the image of his partner. Amalie Jane. The name disgusted her to the bone. She had big green eyes, shiny curled hair which bounced with every move and was, of course, naturally beautiful. Repulsive. Her laughter echoed through Victoria's ears as her partner leant down, whispering in her ear. The pair left the dance floor, hand in hand, heading over to the gloomy ballerina.

"Vicky! Come dance with us!" She giggled, curling her arms round the tall dark haired dream who smiled softly, making her heart leap.

"No, I don't want to." She mumbled, he words dripping in venom.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to!"

"Oh please!" She whined holding her hand out.

"No! I don't want to dance!" Victoria spat, slapping her hand away. The girl flinched, holding her hand, her eyes growing wide.

"Victoria..." The boy said warningly.

'No! I don't want to dance with either of you! Just leave me alone and go and be 'star crossed lovers' somewhere else!" She screeched.

"What's wrong with you!?" He boomed, hurt and betrayal laced between his words like the skirt of his partner's dress.

"Nothing's wrong with me! But clearly something's wrong with you if you want to be with her!" Victoria yelled out, her face becoming redder by the minute.

"I love her! Why can't you just be happy for us, Victoria?! Is that so much to ask?!"

"Yes! It is!" She screamed.

"You could at least put on a mask and try to be happy for your two best friends-"

"Your no friends of mine." She growled.

"Fine. Come on, Amalie, lets go." He sighed, anger and disappointment in his words.

"Edward..." She whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks as Victoria watched the two head back to the dance floor, far away from where she was say. She got up, the unwarned chair toppling over as she ran out the ballroom, heading for her quarters.

"It's not fair!" Victoria screamed, as she slammed the door of her room, lunging onto the bed, punching and kicking the feather stuffed pillows, fluffy white clusters scattering through the air. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face had moulded and scrunched up to resemble a swollen fat prune. She was making so much noise she didn't notice her maid enter with a glass on milk and cookies. The maid ducked a flying pillow as she pulled the door shut and set it down on the table, hesitating, she cleared her throat. Victoria lifted her head and grunted.

"What!?"

"Well..I...um....I bought you a snack...cookies and milk?" She whispered hopefully.

"I'm not hungry. Take it away!" She screamed at the maid who jumped picking the tray up and hurrying to the door, knowing better than to attempt to reason eith the stubborn girl. Suddenly, multiple gunshots and cries were heard and the two girls shot fleeting glances at each other, fear and confusion filling the dark circles of their pupils which widened as the candles which were lighting the room blew out.

"Whats...?"

"Happening!?"

"Why your little Island's being invaded!" A deep grouchy voice shook the room as the frail balcony doors were flung open, heavy boots echoed through the room as they moved towards the quivering pair.

"By pirates," the intruder came into view, the small candle light that the maid had lit in the spur of the moment, licking at the air, the light bouncing off the strong chiselled features of said pirate. He grinned deviously, showing of a pair of gleaming teeth and moved closer to her, as she edged her way to the door. More cries and gunshots were heard and she winced at the sound, reaching for the doorknob. The pirate slammed his hand in the way, punning her to the wall, leaving the tray as the only barrier between them.

"Your a very pretty lady, what's your name?" He purred in her ear.

"Calypso...Calypso Rosé." She stammered.

"Calypso Rosé..." He repeated, ignoring Victoria's offers of jewellery, money and riches in place of her own life.

"A Fitting name for someone with suck rosy cheeks-" he gently stroked her cheeks, hard calloused hands meeting soft supple skin.

"And such deep blue eyes, like pools of water..." He continued, staring deep into her eyes with suck intensity she swore she had met him before. But she couldn't have. Could she?

Calypso had no memory of anything past the day she arrived at the Aberforth household in London. They said she had been found unconscious on the outside steps and being the nice, kind, charitable people they were, they took her in and gave her a home and job. Calypso, being the kind and slightly gullible person she believed them. After all, it was the only thing she had to cling onto, to prove she had a place, a life, a past.

"Are you okay, Mo Shearc?" He whispered, concerned.

I-I'm fin-" her voice was cut off as the door was kicked down and several of the manor servants and a fair few sailors burst in, swords drawn. The pirate grinned, and removed his hand from the wall to reach the hilt of his sword.

"I have to leave, for now but mark my words, Dear Calypso, I will be back!" He whispered sternly into the ear of the startled maid, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, but quite enough not to scare the girl.

"When?" She replied, gasping slightly at the sudden impulse of the thought of him leaving spurring her to say such a thing to a man she had never met before. He smiled before replying for her ears only;

"In 2 months. You have my word." He replied, kissing her on the lips with a passion foreign to her, before fleeting to the balcony and juping on the railing and holding his sword high.

"Godbye Dear Calypso!" He called out, juping back and dissapeaeing.

"We'll don't just stand there!" Victoria yelled "Catch them!" The men, startled at the scene snapped back to reality and chased after the gang of pirates who had terrorised the island.

"Are you okay!?" Bardroy asked Calypso who had not moved, nor spoke. Her arms trembled and her legs failed her. The tray clattered to the floor, milk spreading across the carpet as Calypso soon followed, collapsing to he floor.