Chapter Text
There the gallows sat, frayed rope swaying absently in the breeze. Time seemed frozen as the cracked fragments of an everlasting hourglass scattered across the earth like snow. You could feel it, the cool air drifting over your flesh. Something - or rather someone - was coming. You could hear the telltale sound of heavy boots crushing dirt and sand underneath their soles; the way their heavy breath broke past the evening horizon, thick like an accent and slow as if they were awaiting their fate. You turned on your heels to see if you could catch the figure in question but your eyes caught sight of nothing but a desolate city below; the eerie quietness of it all causing goosebumps to rise over your arms and legs.
This wasn’t the first dream you’ve had like this. Something in the back of your mind seemed to tell you it wouldn’t necessarily be the last. You swallowed in a thick gulp of the heavy ocean air, turning your gaze back to the taunting rope overlooking a violent ocean.
“What is it? What are you trying to tell me?” you heard your voice before it registered in your mind that you’d spoken, “why did you bring me here?”
“He waits.”
Your brows furrowed, bringing you hands upwards to lower the hood of your cloak. “Who waits?
The voice didn’t speak again. The only sound that broke through the wind was the crashing of the waves hundreds of feet below. You swallowed back the lump in your throat. If whatever the universe was trying to tell you was as serious as it seemed, you felt as if the fate of the world hung delicately in your grasp. Between the worn gallows and the salty humidity falling over your flesh, you couldn’t help but fear the future.
“Prakra.”
Prakra.
Prakra.
“Eh? Yer lookin’ for a boat to Prakra?” The older looking man said in front of you, wiping at the dented, iron mug within his hand. His thick brows furrowed in thought before he shrugged a single shoulder at the question. “Not many in these parts go that far, stranger. Foreign Business isn’t this town’s real fancy.” You sighed, dragging your hands down your face in frustration and disbelief.
“There’s no trading route? No seasonal travel? I’ll pay whatever.”
His pale blue gaze settled over you expectantly at the mention of gold, the gears in his head seeming to click slowly over an idea. “Well… Normally I wouldn’t suggest this for someone of your… practice. But you Magicians are in high demand. Maybe for a few hundred gold I could point you in the right direction?”
You sighed to yourself. What was with people and trying to scam you out of your money? If you took the route by foot, it could take months to reach the border, with a horse maybe six or seven weeks. You barely registered the presence over your shoulder as your mind absently wandered over the options placed before you.
“You’re looking for a boat to Prakra?” You glanced up confused, “Behind you.”
You turned in your stool, taking in the monolith of a man. At first glance, there wasn’t anything too spectacular about him. He was tall, his hair wild and unkempt; a rich auburn color that seemed to glow expectantly in the warm lighting of the Tavern fireplace. You couldn’t help but stare sheepishly. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what the stranger seemed to resemble but he was familiar, in a strange way.
“Yes, I know I’m quite the specimen and a real treat to look,” The man smiled crookedly, his chest seeming to swell with shallow pride, “but I did ask a question.”
“I wasn’t-” you argued, your brows furrowing. Was that flirting? “If anything I can’t seem to place where I’ve seen you before.” His smile faltered momentarily before he straightened himself out. “Have we met before?”
“Captain Julian Devorak.” He held out his hand, his smile wide and obnoxious, “perhaps we’ve crossed paths on past adventures.”
You took his hand and offered your name as well, still eying him suspiciously. No that didn’t seem quite right. You never forgot a face. It was both a blessing and a curse. Your gaze drifted over his long, seemingly crooked nose and thin lips. One of his brows lifted. Was that an eyepatch?
“See something you like?” He seemed to squawk like a parrot, his grin only widening.
“Ah. A bird. ”
His brows furrowed in disbelief, an overdramatic gasp falling from his lips. “I do not look like a bird.” You hadn’t realized you said that aloud. He eyed you for a minute before sighing. “What waits for you in Prakra?”
You paused and thought over the question, images from your dream coming to mind. “A job opportunity,” you offered.
His brows raised in question before he was taking the seat next to you. “And what might that be?” You eyed him for a moment before absently shaking your head. “A person of mystery then,” he grinned, “Well you’re in luck. My crew and I just so happen to be headed there ourselves. We’re planning on setting sail tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to join us. The more the merrier.”
You stared, dumbfounded. “You are? Perfect! How much do I need to pay you? Name your price.”
“I don’t want your money.”
Something about the way he said that caused you to pause, your gaze dancing up to the male in front of you awkwardly. If not your money, then what? A night in a room with him? Your body? She seemed to register the concern on your face, realization then embarrassment washing across his features. “ I’m not a pervert, ” he squawked, waving his hand around, “I don’t want any payment. I have no use for gold and seeing as we’re going in the same direction,” He looked at you, allowing you to process his words in silence.
“I couldn’t. ”
“You couldn’t what?” He asked, watching you silently, “usually someone would jump for joy at the idea of a free anything.”
“I value virtue,” you proclaimed.
“Well it seems we’re at a pass then, aren’t we?” he smiled, “I don’t have use for your gold and you seem to refuse the offer of a free voyage. What else can you offer me, then? A drink? A dance maybe?”
You pulled your well-worn tarot deck from your pocket, his single visible eye-widening. “A magician!” he exclaimed, “I haven’t met one in ages. I thought you’d all gone extinct. How exciting. Are you going to read my future? How about a love reading? Will I marry?”
“You want a reading?” You found the awestrucken question tumbling from your lips without permission.
“Isn’t that why you pulled out your cards?”
Your gaze drifted down to the deck in question, your eyes dancing over the cloth band binding them all together. Why had you pulled out your cards? You did before you’d even known your hand had moved.
Read his fortune.
Your hands seemed to work on their own, unwinding the cards and masterfully shuffling them within your grasp. His eyes widened before his gaze danced back up to meet yours. “Choose three cards,” you offered him the deck. “It doesn’t matter where in the deck they are. Whatever seems to call to you. Past, Present, and Future.”
He hesitated before reaching forward to run his fingers across the deck. “Am I doing this right-?”
You nodded your head, laying out a small cloth in front of you. He drew the first card. With a flip, you pressed it down in the past position.
The upright ten of swords.
Julian’s gaze moved to meet yours, a raised brow questioning you; expecting.
Coward.
“The ten of swords. Failure, ruin, collapse, severing ties, goodbyes and the final nail in the coffin.” The words came to you in seconds, the familiarity comfortably sliding past your lips. Julian’s brows furrowed. “The past position can represent us not letting go of a past mistake or failure. Despite all the growth we've had since, it can still come around to haunt us. You’re running from something. Something you can’t escape.”
“Is that so?” His voice seemed quieter than before, his gaze dancing over the lonely card as if it were an old friend. “The next card then?” He pulled the next from the deck, setting it down in the present position before you.
The Tower. Upright
His gaze turned to you again, all curiously washed away in favor of watching you intently. Waiting for something you couldn’t begin to grasp.
Unyielding Fate.
“The Tower is associated with chaos and unexpected changes in life. All this is irreversible and painful. The card foreshadows shocking events, crisis, or even catastrophe you can’t escape.” Julian sat back in his chair, his grey gaze locked on the card. “In the present position, the Tower indicates that you should await a traumatic event. It represents a longstanding conflict that's about to come to its conclusion with or without your help.”
Julian didn’t offer any response before flipping the last card.
Death. Upright.
Your gaze stalled on the card before you opened your mouth to recite the meaning. However Julian barked out a laugh and stood from his chair before you could even hope to start.
“Death cast her gaze on this wretch and turned away. Believe me when I say she has no interest in an abomination like me.” He produced a coat out of seemingly nowhere before sliding his arms into its sleeves. “Tomorrow at sunrise we set sail. I hope to see you there.”
You stumbled to bind your cards, hurrying to follow after him. “That’s not what the card means- it’s more-“
“No, no. My fate has already been sealed. There’s no need to fret over it, magician.” He tipped his head, the smile stretching back across his face as if he wasn’t just talking about death mere moments before. “The hour is late and I’m out of time. I’ll see you just after dawn.”
The man shoved open the tavern door before disappearing into the group of people still roaming the street.
Regardless of predetermined fates or death, that was one of the worst combinations you'd ever seen in a simple reading. Your gaze dances down to the deck still in hand, a lump forming in your throat.
Death and the tower alone in one reading was worrisome enough. A bad omen and a need to watch for misfortune, sudden upheaval or even life as you know it ending in disaster. But with the ten of swords?
Your heart aches for the poor soul but what could you do to help him?
Your fate rested in Prakra.