Chapter Text
Katie had always been called many things in her short eighteen years of life. One of the more permanent labels from the nuns who ran the orphanage was ‘troubled’.
What did they know anyway?
They never seemed to like her. Even when she was on her best behavior, she was still somehow blamed for everything that went wrong.
A book ending up on the wrong shelf? Katie must have moved it. The kitchen being overrun by rats? Katie must have left the door open. Every single thing, no matter how large or small, fell on her head. It was miserable and lonely. So, she ran the first chance she got. Running away was easy. What hurt the most was the ease at which she did it.
She didn’t have many personal items. Just a tattered old note that she couldn’t read, with an image of her as a babe and a pendant to accompany it. Anything else was either too large to take with her or held no value.
It was the dead of night when she left. She walked on her toes, trying to keep her steps light so as not to wake up any occupants. The dim glow of half-burned candles illuminated the hallways.
She bound her small wings tight beneath jackets so that not a single feather betrayed her escape.
The tall wooden door creaked as she pushed it open. Katie uttered a silent prayer that no one heard as she slipped out.
–––
It didn’t take long for Katie to understand the difference between being lonely and being alone. Neither was great, but, in her mind, one was certainly better than the other. Even so, she didn’t remain completely alone for long.
Many other runaways lived in the port city of Kentucky. Most of them turned to less-than-legal methods to sustain themselves, methods which Katie was not above using.
In all the things she was called by the nuns and by others, smart was not at the top of the list… For good reason.
There was a difference between having a good head on your shoulders and knowing how to use it. A difference between noticing things and truly understanding them. Katie, unfortunately, had a habit of confusing the two, and it had gotten her into more trouble than she cared to admit.
Let’s just say, the Federation guards stationed in the port were well acquainted with her and her antics.
It wasn’t her fault that she had sticky figures. Well… It kind of was, but a girl's got to eat– same as anyone else.
–––
Today, the market was bustling. Sweet and savory smells wafted from the stalls into the streets. People wandering the town wove a beautiful tapestry of colors, fragrances, and attire.
Days like this were perfect for wandering through the crowds; people were less likely to notice if a few things went missing from their pockets or baskets, and, if they did, it was difficult to tell who had swiped the item.
The market stalls were trickier, with the main downside being that they recognized Katie.
Out of all the so-called ruffians and delinquents that roamed the port, Katie was among the easiest to identify.
Her red hair was a dead giveaway. It wasn’t uncommon– this was a port city, after all, full of travelers and oddities– but it made blending in difficult.
Funnily enough, her petite wings, one of her most definable features, were also the easiest to hide. They never had grown to their full size. Granted, she didn’t know avian biology, and it's possible she stunted them early on.
Her eyes didn’t help either. Rings of pink circled her irises, faintly catching the light in a way that drew attention whether she wanted it to or not.
The nuns used to say they had a demonic glow to them.
Katie disagreed.
They did glow, a little—but there was nothing demonic about them. They were special. Just like the rest of her.
At least, that’s what she liked to believe. She was sure that if she had grown up with her family, they would have agreed.
She shook her head; none of these were productive thoughts.
Glancing around, pulling her hood up, she slipped into the crowd. Her goal wasn’t to relieve anyone of their items just yet. The day was still young– there would be plenty of opportunities for that later.
She crept into a quiet alleyway, taking care to make sure no one was following her. A sheet blew gently, revealing a crack in the wall behind it. She hadn’t made the crack– the tools to do that were out of her reach– she had found it, though. It didn’t make a half-bad home or base of operations.
Moving the sheet aside, Katie slipped into the hidden room beyond. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. Or as close to hers as anything in the port ever was.
She lit a lantern, and soft light filled the space.
“Hello, Katie.” The voice wasn’t exactly threatening, but that didn’t stop her from yelping in surprise and nearly jumping out of her skin.
Turning to face the noise, she could vaguely make out a plain silhouette, save for the almost toxic-like glow that was ever so visible underneath their jacket.
She let out a sigh of relief upon recognition of her impromptu guest.
“Hiya, boss! You gave me a heart attack.” She placed her hand over her heart for dramatic effect. “Is this how you treat your loyal employees? Sending them to early graves?”
Maximus levelled an unamused look at her. “Only the ones that don’t know when to keep their mouths closed.”
Katie snapped her mouth shut. “Noted…”
A beat passed.
“But you don’t need to worry about that. I wouldn’t consider you an employee– You're more of a consultant.”
Katie shrugged, “I’ll take it.” Plopping herself down on the only remaining seat, she focused her attention on Maximus. “So… What can I do for you? You don’t come around very often these days. I was beginning to think you forgot about me, boss,” her voice dripped with mock hurt.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Then how about you call me boss,” she declared boldly, “I think the title fits me rather well.”
“No.” Maximus scowled at her. “If you are not going to take this seriously, I am sure there are others in this rundown port that would be happy to instead.”
That got her attention.
Katie straightened slightly, the humor draining just a bit. “No need to be so hasty,” she said, forcing a small laugh. “I’m reliable. More reliable than most around here, actually. Whatever you need, I’m your girl.”
He studied her for a minute, almost as if considering his decision to come here. Katie fidgeted under his scrutinizing gaze.
“Can I trust you?” His question didn’t carry any accusation, just a simple question.
The question took Katie aback.
“Of course you can,” she said quickly. “Have I ever let you down?”
Maximus didn’t answer right away. He just fastened her with a look.
“…I can think of a few times.”
So maybe there had been a few instances, early on, that didn’t end up the way she or Maximus were hoping for. But that was so long ago now.
Katie winced. “Okay, fine. Early on. That barely counts.” She waved a hand. “Have I let you down recently?”
“No, I suppose not,” he decided.
“I’ll take it,” she muttered under her breath.
Maximus reached into his coat. “Someone will be arriving at the port in a few days. He will be carrying something I need.”
Katie leaned forward slightly. “And you want me to get it.”
“I want you to steal it.”
That… didn’t sound so bad. Not compared to the weight he’d been putting behind it.
“I’m not asking for an answer yet,” he continued. “His ship won’t arrive for several days.” He slid a small pouch across the table. “Consider it… incentive.”
Katie picked it up, loosening the drawstring just enough to peek inside.
Gold. Not a few coins. Not even a decent handful. A small fortune.
Her stomach twisted.
Suspicion and unease crept into her stomach.
“What's the catch?” She questioned. “Cause– and now don't get me wrong– this is a lot of coins… A very generous amount of coins– but there has to be a catch.”
Maximus shifted in his seat. “He’s an admiral… An admiral for the federation.”
Katie’s breath hitched at the revelation.
That changed things.
Petty theft in a crowded market was one thing. Slipping a coin purse from a distracted noble, another. But this? This was the type of crime that got people hanged.
The creak of the lantern was the only sound as she mulled over the idea in her head. There were many ways that this could go wrong. Most of those situations ended with her either in prison or on the gallows. Neither was a particularly enticing option
“You’re asking me to steal from a Federation admiral,” she said carefully.
“Yes. A map.”
“Just… making sure we’re on the same page.” She let out a quiet breath. “And if I get caught?”
Maximus met her gaze. “You won’t.”
“That’s not what I asked. This is quite a big job, even with the–um– compensation.”
“If you agree to this,” he said, slower now, “I will ensure your protection. To the best of my abilities.”
“…That’s a risky promise,” she muttered.
“I am aware.” He pushed the pouch slightly closer. “And I will double it.”
Katie froze.
Double.
…Double.
That’d be more money than she’d ever even seen in her entire life. That would be enough money to leave. Runaway to some place where nobody knew her name. Be able to start a new life where she didn’t make enemies of every person she met just so she could survive.
“…You’re serious,” she said again, softer this time.
“Yes.”
She swallowed. “If I say yes… You promise I don’t end up dead in a gutter or swinging from a rope.” She had no intention of cutting her life short.
Maximus lifted his hand, “I swear I will protect you to the best of my abilities. But if you get caught, if you trip up, there is only so much I can do.”
A grin spread across her face, sharp and a little reckless.
“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.”
———
In hindsight, maybe she should have asked a few more questions. Certainly wouldn’t have been the worst thing. Thankfully, Maximus had come back the next day with details.
For starters, the admiral’s name was Cucurucho.
He was due to port in three days, delayed by damage in a confrontation with a band of pirates.
Additionally, and rather unlucky for Katie, was his reputation. Known for being efficient. Known for being ruthless. Known for leaving very few people alive once he decided they weren’t worth keeping. More pirates—and more criminals—had died by his hand than almost any officer in the Federation.
More than once, Katie considered backing out. It would be so easy to simply take the gold and run. But it was too late for that, so instead, she fastened the coin pouch under her tattered jacket and made her way to the market.
The market was quieter when she returned, though still busy enough to blend in.
Her first priority was supplies.
A new knife was at the top of her list, followed by boots and a jacket.
Her current knife was rusted beyond saving, something she’d picked up off a half-drunk sailor weeks ago. Her boots were worn thin, and her jacket, while serviceable, wouldn’t hold up once the cold truly settled in. It was only September, and the night had already begun to possess a bite to it.
She moved between stalls, eyes scanning carefully.
Then she saw it.
The blade was an opaque, shimmering blue, its edge catching the light in a way that felt almost… unnatural. The handle was carved from dark wood, threaded with fine lines of gold.
“You have good taste.” Katie’s head shot up. “That one’s diamond-forged,” he said, tapping the hilt. “Won’t rust. Won’t dull easily either.”
She reached into the punch, subconsciously rolling the coins in her fingers. “How much is it?”
“Ninety gold.”
Stifling a wince at the price, she tossed out the coins. It could be worse.
“I’ll take it.”
With an affirming nod from the stall owner, she picked up the knife. Holding it felt right in a way she couldn’t verbalize. It was as if the blade hummed a frequency that sounded beautiful to her ears… Not literally because it was only a dagger.
Flipping it over, she noticed something etched into the hilt. Squinting to get a better look, it seemed as if someone had delicately carved strange characters into the gold edges. They looked strikingly similar to the strange language on the note her parents had left for her.
リ𝙹 ⍑ᔑ∷ᒲ
She frowned.
“…Huh.”
Probably nothing.
She sheathed it and moved on.
Letting her mind wander as she cut through the crowd, Katie kept an eye out for anything that might strike her fancy.
It was nice in a sort of simple way– being an honest customer for once; Not being on the receiving end of suspicious glances from merchants who move ever so slightly closer to their wares, keeping one eye pinned on her.
After a few minutes of casual strolling, she came upon the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on.
A pink frock coat. And not just pink– her pink. The exact shade that circled her eyes.
It was sharp, well-made, and completely impractical.
She bought it anyway.
———
The remaining days before Admiral Cucurucho made port passed by in a blink.
Katie had spent the remainder of her time hidden away in her base of operation. She figured it was better to keep a low profile for the time being. It would be a great inconvenience if someone recognized her from her less-than-legal activities and she got arrested before even meeting the Admiral.
Dim light crept into the room, courtesy of the cracks that webbed through the walls. It was just past dawn, meaning she had a few hours left before the admiral would arrive.
Groaning, Katie got to work.
She reached out for her necklace before deciding against it. Katie didn’t want to risk losing it. Besides, she’d be able to come back for it.
Next, she tied her hair back in an attempt to make herself look like a respectable member of society. Her cracked mirror was not the best at helping her, but she reckoned her appearance was good enough. Grabbing her new coat and her least stained shirt, she left her hideout. It seemed that the weather was not on her side as a cold rain fell from the clouds above. Grumbling, she continued to the docks.
For once, the streets were not packed. The only ones wandering around were locals who were all too used to the weather.
There was a small benefit to being out in the rain; no one thought twice about a girl hiding underneath a hood. Almost everyone likely just assumed that she was trying to stay dry. Small mercies.
Katie’s boots thumped on the cobblestone streets, the already forming puddles splashing as she walked. She passed a handful of guards, their numbers becoming more frequent as she got closer to the dock. When she got to the dock, the sting of salt and the smell of fish assaulted her. It wasn’t the worst smell, but that didn’t mean it was entirely pleasant.
She checked the clock tower near the port entrance. Half an hour.
She waited in a small café overlooking the harbor, watching as the rain blurred the world beyond the windows into shifting shapes and shadows.
Katie’s stomach did somersaults as she awaited the approaching ship. There were so many things that could go wrong– she needed to be smart about how she did this.
Threatening the admiral at knifepoint was among the worst ideas and would be relegated to Plan B. A far better plan would be to swipe the bag as soon as he sets it down. She considered that Plan A.
A horn blared across the harbor, pulling her out of her musing. Gazing out over the water, she saw small tug boats bringing the monstrosity of a ship. Every inch was adorned with cannons. It was a warship.
“Of course it is,” she muttered, “I don’t know why I was expecting anything less.”
Steeling her nerves, she exited the cafe.
Despite the weather, the docks seemed to fill with people trying to catch a glance at the vessel or its crew. Katie slipped through them, keeping her eyes peeled for an unnaturally pale man.
According to the image Max had shown her, Cucurucho had a distinct look about him. He looked like he would be better suited to blend into a place where white snow towered. His skin was almost colorless, as if the world had been drained from him entirely. All that to say, he was not hard to spot when he disembarked the ship.
Katie tried to appear smaller as she followed him through the crowd.
For a brief, terrifying moment, his gaze flicked in her direction.
Not past her… At her.
Katie looked away immediately, heart slamming against her ribs.
Don’t be stupid. Don’t stare.
When she glanced back, he was already moving.
———
He was playing with her… He had to be.
Every single time Katie thought she had gotten close enough or thought Cucurucho was going to place down the satchel strung over his shoulder, he appeared to change his mind and keep going. At this rate, she was never going to get the bag, and she was going to fail her mission.
Plan B was looking more enticing with each passing moment.
Eventually, her wild goose chase led her to an inn. For what it was worth, the inn looked far outside the budget of most travelers.
A bell let out a soft ring as she pushed open the door. Inside the inn, it was delightfully warm– the fireplace crackling as it filled the room. The occupants paid her no mind as she walked up to the clerk.
“How can I help you, miss?” The woman’s voice was sweet and free of malice.
“I’m looking for someone,” which was technically true, “He’s about yea tall– creepily pale. Have you seen him? I need to get a message to him.”
The woman pursed her lips, clearly not buying it. “A message?”
“Yes… a message.” No turning back now. “It's important– straight from the Federation.”
“I’m sorry miss, but I can’t disclose the whereabouts of my guests, policy I’m afraid.”
Channeling all the annoyance she could, she scoffed at the clerk. “If you want to stand in the way of Federation business, be my guest, but if the Admiral comes looking for a Katie or files a complaint because he didn’t receive the correct information in a timely manner, I’ll be sure to tell let him know it was,” she glanced at the woman’s nametag, “Susan that stopped me.”
“…There’s no need for that,” she said quickly, ducking beneath the counter. A moment later, she produced a key. “Room 212.”
Katie took it, already turning toward the stairs. “Appreciate it.”
She was vibrating with a combination of nerves and excitement as she bounded up the stairs.
Some rooms had a soft glow peaking out beneath the frame, but as she approached 212, nothing but darkness greeted her.
She steadied herself as she inserted it and turned it. The door easily gave way as she tiptoed inside. Inside was expansive yet somehow plain. The room was connected to another room of some type; the connecting door creaked slightly, and soft voices filtered in. Holding her breath, Katie scanned the dark room for any sign of the satchel. The sleek leather bag rested near the armchair. It took everything in Katie’s very being not to cheer for joy as she moved to grab it.
She silently congratulated herself for a job well done as she made her way back to the door, when, without any warning whatsoever, the half-cracked door on the other side of the room was thrown open.
Shit…
Before her eyes was none other than Cucurucho… a very confused Cucurucho.
As she stood frozen in the doorway, he saw the bag in her hand. His face soured.
Scratch that, she was currently staring down a very pissed Cucurucho.
Katie moved.
Without a second thought, she turned and darted down the stairs. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Behind her, she vaguely made out someone yelling ‘thief’.
Boots hit the floor a second later.
Katie flew down the stairs two at a time, nearly slipping as she hit the bottom. The clerk barely had time to react before Katie shoved past her, bursting out into the rain-soaked street.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she cut through the streets, boots splashing through puddles as she ran. People turned, startled, but she was already past them.
Don’t look back.
Don’t slow down.
Shouts rose up behind her.
Guards. Of course, there were guards.
Her options ran through her head faster than she could fully process them.
On one hand, she could go further into the town and try to lose them in the crowd. That would get her close to her base, where she could hide until this either blew over or Max came to claim his prize. The other option was to book it at the docks. There were plenty of places to slip into and hide. The decision was made for her as Federation guards blocked her path.
Katie skidded to a halt, breath catching.
“…Shit.”
There was no time to think.
She turned left, toward the docks.
Buildings flew by as she pressed on away from her chasers.
The harbor was both lively and terribly dark. Swarms of drunk sailors drifted from pub to pub. Rain hammered against wood and stone, sailors shouted over one another, and lantern light flickered wildly in the storm. The smell of salt and fish filled the air, thick and suffocating.
Katie pushed through it all, slipping between bodies, ducking past crates, weaving through the crowd as fast as her legs would carry her.
Her legs carried her to a dock filled with small merchant ships. Choosing the first one she saw, Katie dove into the belly of the ship. Katie ducked behind a stack of barrels, pressing herself into the narrow space between them.
Her breathing was too loud. Too fast. She forced it down, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Boots hit the dock above.
Voices passed.
Closer.
Closer.
Then they were gone.
She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t think. Scared that any proof of life would lead to her end.
Minutes stretched.
Then hours.
The storm softened to a steady drizzle, then to nothing at all.
Still, she stayed exactly where she was.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged at her limbs, heavy and unrelenting.
Her grip on the satchel loosened.
Her head dipped forward.
Sleep took her before she realized it.
———
Katie’s eyes snapped open. She sat up too quickly, knocking her shoulder against the barrel behind her. The ship lurched gently beneath her feet.
No.
Her stomach dropped.
No, no, no…
“Well,” a voice cut through the silence, rough and thoroughly unimpressed.
Katie froze and turned her head slowly.
A man with ram-like horns stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression dark as he looked her over.
“… Who the fuck are you?”
Katie blinked at him. Then, very carefully, she tightened her grip on the satchel.
“… Good question.”