pirate king (pirate!au) ➵ ateez ✔️

death

It's dark out when wooden boards creak under the tips of your toes lightly, and you glance behind your shoulder to make sure no one is watching you from the ship's deck before you quickly stride across the pier, hoping the shadows cast from the flickering flames of the torches are enough to shroud you in their darkness.

You're dressed in one of your Master's tunics, with a ragged shawl wound around your head to hide your face. Darting down the harbor, you rely purely on your memory to follow the same path your feet had taken seemingly so long ago.

You blend in with the rest of the stragglers littering the dirty seaside hovels, listening to the sound of seawater lapping against the stone docks. The sea winds seem to sense your intent, the trail of salt laced air drifting past your nose and guiding you forward. You double your pace. You're getting closer.

"Fortune favours the fair..." The raspy whisper curls around your ears, beckons you towards a dingy shack tucked in the recesses of the town, streaked with filth and grime, just as you remember it. Heavy rags and curtains hang from its rickety bamboo frame, the dim light inside barely visible through the thick drapes, suffocating and stifling.

It's an ominous sight, but you feel no fear as you step forward into the tent without even bothering to announce yourself. You remember the terror you had felt here the last time, even with Jongho at your back, but now, all that consumes you is a ravenous desire for answers.

There's no more time for fear anymore.

"It's you!" The fortune teller shrieks, the second you push aside the heavy curtains at the entrance and slip inside. There's a crash, and you glance up from beneath your hood to see the wizened crone tumbling backwards, knocking over jars of snakeskin and ripping strings of dried talons from the ceiling rafters in her desperate attempt to get away from you. "You, I-"

"Silence." You say coldly, brushing a spider from your shoulder and she falls silent in an instant, mouth moving soundlessly. "How did you know it was me?"

"Your aura, it's stronger now, it's pouring from you." The fortune teller spits, pressing against the wall behind her in a bid to get as far from you as possible as you cross the cramped hut in three steps to sit on the same chair in front of her table, just as you had so long ago. This chair feels sturdier under you, and you wonder which unfortunate soul bad broken the previous one before you. "Even the biggest fool would be able to tell, why do you think you were not approached on your way here, alone and frail-looking as you are?"

"Huh." You say curiously, unwinding the shawl from your neck and pulling it free. "That's a handy skill, now that I think about it."

"Why are you here, clay one?" The fortune teller hisses, and when you stare back her, she seems smaller than you remember her to be; instead of the looming figure wrapped in darkness she's merely a trembling, skeletal woman hiding behind her rags. You shrug, prop your chin on your palm and look at her with intent eyes. She flinches.

"You're a fortune teller, aren't you?" You ask quietly, your gaze unwavering. "Tell me my future."

She sputters.

"It- It doesn't work like that." The fortune teller spins away from you, but you can see her fingernails, caked with dirt, dragging frantically against the rough grain of the tabletop. "The more one seeks out the future, terrible things come to pass. The more someone plays a god," her luminous eyes meet yours through her wild tangle of curls, the colour of pond water muddied with scum and filth, "the higher the price they pay, the deeper they sink. But they never turn back until it's too late, and by then, the price is too high for a mortal to ever pay."