There have always been lost souls, and some people have always been able to see us if the current is right, thanks to the mystical light created by storms. My story begins in the time of the thieving sailors, the ship tossed violently as the clouds raced across the ghostly hollow moon as the pirates slept restlessly in their beds as I watched from above. I should have been in my bed too, but being named after the sea goddess my nature got the better of me. So I stand here on lookout and watch the waves crash against each other and the ship, feeling the ship trying to balance itself as the waves monitor our course. The rocking of the boat reminded me of when my mother was alive and would rock me to sleep when I was upset or sick. I look at the sky wishing my mother was here with me, but someone accused her of piracy and they put her on trial. She was found guilty and hanged. While I was absorbed in my thoughts I didn't notice my father climbing up to where I was. Silently, he reached me and put his hand on my shoulder, I tensed knowing all too well what that meant. “Eclipso, what am I...