Thieves and Beggars

Lull kept watch over the waves, hands crossed in front of her. Her scarlet hair was tied back low, a cloth loosely holding it in place. Her wife stood beside her, her back to the waves, leaning against the railings of the ship. Black hair framed her face, not a single strand out of place, even though the sea breeze was strong today. She stared at Lull, adoration in her sapphire eyes. 

Lull frowned, her hand crossing over to her wife's. "The seas are too calm today. We need to find a ship, and fast. Something to entertain the crew."

Her wife, Ortelia, smiled softly, squeezing her captain's hand. "My sisters are keeping their eyes out. There is, of course, your dues owed if they find one."

"I'm aware." Lull glanced at Ortelia, a soft smile playing on scarred lips. "How close is the nearest port?"

Her wife closed her eyes, feeling the air. "Half a day away, up north."

"That's where we'll go then." Lull slapped the railings, shouting the order to her crew. Ortelia looked at her, quizzically. "We can find some sort of schedule there. Restock."

. . .

Venzor, a semi popular port for pirates, was always bustling, always busy. As the rowboat touched sand, and the crew hopped out, excitedly chatting to each other about the whores they'd sleep with, the ale they'd drink. Lull calmly stepped out, hand on her cutlass. Her oldest friend, a man who had practically been her grandfather, who simply went by Ben, stepped out with her, groaning at the various creaks from his knees. 

Ortelia had stayed behind, slipping into her scale skin and vanishing into the ocean. Lull risked a glance back, sighing softly. Her siren had stayed behind to keep watch on the ship from below.

Ben placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go," he hoarsely said. "We'll find a prize to track, get some food in our bellies."

Lull nodded, taking the lead to the record keeper's office. If anybody had a record of the comings and goings of ships, it was him. Ben followed closely behind, the grizzled old man leaning heavily on a cane. There were rumors on the ship that Ben was better off being dropped in the ocean, that he couldn't fight as well anymore. And it was Ben who put an end to the rumors, and the tellers. 

She pushed open the door to the office, the bell above ringing cheerfully. A little girl looked up from where she was writing, the ledger in front of her bearing a few, childlike sketches. "Lull!" she cheered excitedly, running over. The child hugged the captain, who picked her up.

"Hello, little Lilian. Where's your father?" Ben asked, pinching her cheeks gently.

"He's sick," the young girl lamented. "So, I'm the record keeper now!" She fought to be put down, toddling over to the various records. "I'm gees-gues-"

"Guessing?"

"Yeah. That you want a prize?"

"Of course." Lull walked over to the desk, gently picking up the pencil that Lilian had been playing with. The small child pushed a paper towards the pirate.

"I was told that it was saved especially for you, and not to give it to anybody else." Lilian nodded, determined. Lull looked at the paper, reading it. "I also have a message for you. Somebody told me to tell you to look for a blind prophet."

"I don't deal with gods," Lull flatly told the child. "I've only done that once, and we all know how that ended."

"You'll want to hear his message." Lilian's voice turned just as flat, if not more. Almost empty. "He has a job for you."

. . .

Lull turned the paper over and over, copying down the schedule into her ledger. Ben sat across from her, keeping an eye on the door. His captain had told the youngling to tell that prophet, that they could bloody well seek Lull out if the mission was important enough. A quick knock of his foot against hers alerted her to their guest.

A young man, his eyes white and scarred over, sat beside them. His robes were the color of Death, and a chill ran down Lull's spine. The tavern fell quiet. This man, with no sight, a stick his only possession, looking as homeless as a raccoon, had sat at the pirate queen's table, without even asking. Without even bowing. The tavern held its breath. It had never seen its queen look so shaken.

"Are you Lull?" the prophet asked. 

"Depends." She held her hand out, stilling the drawing of swords. Not yet. "Who dares to sit at my table, uninvited?" She hated the shake in her voice. Ageyr had taken that shake when he had taken her soul. But Qres was Death incarnate. You don't ever fuck with Death incarnate. You shake in front of Death incarnate.

The prophet chuckled. "I can hear the fear in your voice. You don't need to be afraid, Qres doesn't want you collected, yet. She wants you, as a champion. One of her champions."

"Ageyr already took me," she whispered. Once a god takes your soul, no other deity can claim you. Them's the rules.

"He's offered to give Qres your soul, just for this. Complete her mission, and you'll get it back."

"I don't want it back."

"That's a lie." Lull looked around, for some kind of help. The tavern felt like a breath being held. The sailors and pirates around her had frozen in time, Ben's hand still reaching to his pistol. The prophet had sat at her table uninvited. Men had been killed for much less. But somehow, this man was still breathing. Still talking. "Come now, pirate. Qres has selected you to help her end a war. Think of the riches you'll get. The spoils. You soul. Think about it."