Chapter Text
Bakura laughed to himself as he took a drink of rum, the brown liquid sloshing around in the bottle. He stood at the bow of the ship with his arms resting on the side, holding a bottle of rum loosely in his right hand. He was one of the most feared pirates on the open sea. He was known for taking risks and often going places other sailors dared not go. He plundered the ships of traveling merchants. stealing food and gold anything else he wished. Occaisionally when him and his crew of rogues would make port he would steal a night away with a pretty young lady, before disappearing without a word, come dawn he would be back on his ship sailing off again.
Over the years he had come to hear many a tale about the sea and that which lay below the waves. Many sailors spoke of a white beast that lived there, saying that it only appeared during storms to lure sailors to their doom. Others said that the white beast brought the storm with it. Bakura wasn't easily spooked and didn't believe in most of those tales. He figured they were all stories made up by sailors who had had a little too much to drink and had probably been out at sea to long. He had also heard tales of mermaids, beautiful maidens who had a fish tail in stead of legs, but the tail moved more like that of a whale. Should a mermaid leave the water her tail would vanish only to be replaced by a pair of human legs. He didn't put much stock into these legends, though he couldn't help but wonder if somewhere in those stories lay a grain of truth.
"Captain, a storm be a brewin' off the port side." One of his men reported running up to him.
Bakura looked to see the sky had grown dark with storm clouds, the water starting to churn up frothy caps of white. Moving from bow to stern, with swift orders, they needed to make a quick work if they wanted to stay a head of the storm knowing all to well the damage the sea could wreak if one was not careful
"Let's get her turned around, we don't want to get caught in the storm." He shouted, and watched as his crew scrambled about. A well seasoned lot who worked together with little fuss, rarely did he need to give direct orders everyone new their place.
Staring out across the water as he stood by the helmsman a flash of white caught his attention. Bakura quickly shook his head now wasn't the time to think about those old sailor's stories, it was nothing more then a trick of the waves. He tried to ignore it but again he saw something large and white in the water heading away from the storm, beneath the waves. He pulled out his compass and did a quick check to see which way it went, thinking that maybe it could lead them away from the storm before things became bad.
"Head north-east 45 degrees." He told the helmsman.
The helmsman gave him a wary look but did as he was told "What made you decide that to be the best course to take Captain? Wouldn’t heading straight East be a better choice?"
"I saw something an animal of some sort, head in that direction. Animals always know the best way out of a storm." He replied folding his arms across his chest. Not so foolish enough as to admit what he really thought it might be, not without proof anyway.
"Captain, the water's so rough there's no way you could've seen anything down there. Perhaps it it was the spirit of some poor fellow who lost his life at sea. In which case it's most likely leading us to our doom." One of the crewman spoke up, unsure about Bakura’s decision to go chasing something he thought he saw.
Bakura whipped around narrowing his gaze, "T'was no spirit that I saw, I can tell you that much. It was heading away from the oncoming storm so I doubt it means harm. It’s probably trying to escape it just as we are" He paused for a moment before continuing "So shut your mouth and do as I order." He growled "Any other objections..." Not a word was spoken by the Helmsman or any others, although they trusted their captain they dared not risk his ire. "None, good now get to work or we'll all be sleeping with the fishes and have Ammit devouring our hearts for her supper."
He didn't know for sure what it was he saw, it was white as a ghost but he could tell that it wasn't one. As he watched from the bow of the ship he kept seeing it disappear and then reappear, but it never got to far ahead of his ship, as if it was trying to lead them to safety.
The Kul-Elna, or Elna for short. He'd had this ship a long time and he had been through a lot with her. He had fixed her up many times. Many a man had died upon this vessel friend and foe alike. The ship and the sea were his home and knew to treat both with great respect.
He loved the sea, for he felt it was a lot like him. Unpredictable and unforgiving. For even when it was calm you never knew when it might turn violent. You can never trust the see, from a distance she may look harmless and safe but often times the closer you got the more dangerous it was.