Back in Time - Part One?

Blackness pressed in on the woman, threatening to compress her into the tiniest speck. The emptiness that surrounded her seemed to pick at her skin, like ants eating away at her flesh. It was agony, and yet she could make no noise, couldn’t so much as open her mouth. The air rushed from her lungs and, just when she thought her lungs would burst, light assaulted her and she landed, hard. Immediately, she started screaming. Being sent through that void had eaten away at something.
The woman threw her head back, howling in pain, clawing at her skin. Beyond the ringing in her ears, she heard someone talking to her, but she was unable to focus her gaze. All she could make out was a fair face and golden hair, looking down at her. She tried to force herself to speak, to tell him something, anything, but no words formed, her mind reeling from the fire that burned through her veins.
She barely registered the person, a man she assumed by the deepness of his voice, sliding her arms beneath her and lifting her easily off the ground. She continued to tremble even in his arms, blood scorching through her veins like lava while the frozen air chilled her. Her throat ached from screaming, but she continued to croak out yells of pain, scratching at her arms.
The man seemed to walk for an eternity before, finally, she heard a second voice, an older woman’s voice, so soft she could scarcely hear it over her cries. From what she could make out, the older woman seemed to be instructing the man. At some point, something was pressed to her lips and a liquid ran past her lips and down her throat. Her own screaming stopped long enough for her to start coughing quite violently and then – then there was peace. The fire in her veins cooled and the feeling of biting ants faded away. Before she could do anything, though she slipped into an exhausted sleep.
As she slept, flashes of memories flicked across her sleeping mind – people eating and playing together, strange people aboard a strange ship. Some of the most prominent faces she recalled was a masked figure, a beautiful woman with crimson wings, another woman of equal beauty with paint upon her face, a younger girl of boundless energy, and more and more people. Adventures, pain, a family… Her family. The only family she’d ever really had.
Then morning came. She wasn’t sure how many days had passed but she awoke with the sun at last. She couldn’t move much, but managed to open her eyes. She was in some small shack, with strange baubles and plants and things she couldn’t identify all around her. The woman was nowhere to be found but, just across the room, sitting against the far wall, was the man. She knew it was the man who had helped her because he had the same light skin and gold hair. He was asleep, though, and she couldn’t quite muster the strength to call out to him.
And so she sat there for some time, just taking in his features. His hair was cropped just a bit longer than short, with a full beard running practically from ear to ear, full and tick but soft-looking. He seemed tall and wore a strange kind of armor. Clad in leather pretty much from his neck down, he wore pale leather bracers, dark leather trousers, and a light blue cotton shirt. She was surprised to find he wore no shoes, but then saw the heavy boots set off just to the side, the toes of which were capped with plates of tarnished metal.  A silvery chain just caught the sunlight from his chest, with a tiny silver pendant resting halfway down his chest. From where she lay, though, she couldn’t make out what was on that pendant.
The woman let her eyes close once more and she lay like that for some time until she went to lick her dry lips and found her mouth dry as cotton. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she opened her eyes and used what little strength she had to force words past her cracked lips. “Please,” She croaked, horrified by how she sounded.
She had to repeat herself a few times before the man stirred but, when he did, he sat up immediately and hopped to his feet. He stepped right over to her and she was quite started by his eyes – blue like cornflowers, almost startlingly bright, but they were kind and even a bit concerned. And then he smiled. Such a beautiful smile. It was so sincere that she found herself wanting to smile back, and she even tried, only to have her cracked lips split and start to bleed a bit. His smile immediately vanished and his brows flew up. “Water. Let me get you some water.” He said and hurried away.
When the man returned, he pulled up a stool and sat beside the woman. He set a small wooden cup aside for a moment and then looked to her. “I’m sorry if this hurts.” He said, slipping an arm beneath her shoulders and easing her up into a sitting position. And it did hurt. She cried out painfully, quietly forcing down the yells that wanted so badly to escape, the curses she wanted to screech at the man. But one look at his face told her that he felt really quite badly for putting her through it.
Finally, when she was upright and the pain ebbed slightly away, he took hold of the cup and brought it to her lips. “She said this would help with the pain.” And tipped it up for her. The woman remembered remedies for pain she’d been given before, and braced for a disgusting tonic. Pleasantly, she was surprised by a citrus taste, with only the faintest sour aftertaste.
When she’d finished off the contents of the cup, he pulled it away and then propped her against some pillows, smiling when he was able to let go and sit back on the stool. “I’m sorry, I’ve yet to introduce myself.” He said, with an expression that made her think he was mentally berating himself for forgetting such a thing. “I am Marcello, Captain of the Guard.” He said, puffing his chest out slightly.
The woman smiled faintly, tiredly. “Sarah Grace, of the Black Fedora Pirates.”