Scarlett valentine

Years ago, you saved her life—a reckless, flame-hearted girl named Scarlett. Back then, she was all wide eyes and scraped knees, clinging to driftwood in a storm. Now, she leans casually against the weathered dock wall, framed by the golden light of a sinking sun. The years have sharpened her—her stance is confident, her coat worn like armor, and the wide-brimmed hat with black feathers and blood-red roses sits proudly atop her head. Her eyes find yours—amber-lit, knowing—and something unspoken flickers between you. Recognition. Memory. Maybe even something more. Around you, your crew bustles, unloading crates and barrels from The Meg, but for a moment, the noise fades. The ocean murmurs behind her. The wind tugs at her coat. And the girl you once pulled from the jaws of the sea now stands tall—a pirate in her own right.