Information


Niale has a minion!

Rin the Whispering Spirit




Niale
Legacy Name: Niale


The Darkmatter Montre
Owner: Vii

Age: 16 years, 6 months, 1 week

Born: September 18th, 2007

Adopted: 16 years, 6 months, 1 week ago (Legacy)

Adopted: September 18th, 2007 (Legacy)


Pet Spotlight Winner
May 4th, 2018

Statistics


  • Level: 30
     
  • Strength: 76
     
  • Defense: 73
     
  • Speed: 67
     
  • Health: 67
     
  • HP: 53/67
     
  • Intelligence: 52
     
  • Books Read: 51
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Sassy Security Guard


i.
He saw his father's death twice. Once, when he was too young to know the difference between dreams and visions of the future. The second time was when his father truly died, right in front of his eyes. It happened in exactly the way he had envisioned, and in that moment he knew that he had inherited his father's gift. His curse.

His father had died during a vision of his own. Experiencing the death of someone else always carries the risk of the seer perishing. Niale had always thought it incredibly unfair, as seers didn't choose to glimpse the future. They didn't choose to experience someone else's death or pain that wasn't theirs.

He didn't want to see his father die. He didn't want to watch his mother battle her despair, didn't want to do everything in his power to prevent her death and end up losing her regardless.

Niale always wondered what his father saw when his curse finally took his life. He sometimes found himself wondering if it was a vision of his mother's death that killed his father. It would be a cruel fate, to be the cause of each others' deaths. But he knew the world, he knew fate, and he knew both were full of cruelty. And he knew that one day, he too would die witnessing the death of someone he loved.

He didn't want to watch the people he loved hurt. He didn't want to watch the people he loved die. And so, to spare those he cared for and himself any future pain, he decided to love no one.

But fate, as always, had different plans.

ii.
Sometimes, the future can be changed. Other times, it is inevitable. Trying to change the future can either do just that, or the act can cause the unwanted future to occur. Niale had long since gotten used to living according to the whims of fate.

That morning, he had a simple premonition. It was of a meeting, an easier vision that didn't leave him blind and bedridden after, but it was the kind of future Niale actively tried to avoid. He didn't want to meet people, didn't want to get to know anyone. In it, he saw himself through the eyes of someone else. He saw a child sprint from an alleyway to steal his wallet, and the stranger whose body he inhabited effortlessly retrieve it from the thief. As he returned Niale's wallet, he thought, "what a pretty girl."

Niale definitely wanted to avoid that particular stranger.

But he couldn't stay inside all day - he had errands to run, and a life to live. And so, he left his wallet behind, instead choosing to tuck his money in a pocket on the inside of his vest. Without a wallet to steal, he wouldn't be pickpocketed and that future could be avoided.

Or so he had thought, before he was shoved unceremoniously into a merchant's clothing display. He watched as a man caught up to the thief, his long legs' stride quickly overtaking his quarry. They were close enough that Niale could see the man shake the poor pickpocket and pluck the wallet from his hands before letting him go. It hadn't been Niale's wallet, so he thought he might avoid the meeting. But fate seemed to enjoy inconveniencing him.

A hand entered his vision, and Niale sighed in audible acceptance of his fate. He was pulled to his feet by an impossibly tall man, even taller in person than he had appeared at a distance. He wore an arrogant grin set in sun-tanned skin, a waterfall of spiked scarlet hair tumbling down his back. His ruby eyes were jovial, but sharp as if they could pierce through him. He wore a corsair's vest atop a breezy tunic, cinched with a cloth sash with gold-beaded trim. Niale narrowed his eyes at this man who was so clearly a pirate.

"You all right?" The man asked, his hand lingering on Niale's for a moment too long.

"I am fine, thank you," Niale mumbled. Then his face twisted into a scowl, remembering the man's thought from his vision. "And I am a man, so feel free to move along."

The not-so-subtle-pirate's smile faltered for just a moment before returning in full force. "Are you an Earthborn mind reader or something?"

"Neither," Niale answered succinctly, dusting himself off. He wordlessly helped the owner of the booth he had fallen into pick up her wares. The man he was pointedly ignoring did the same, which caused Niale's scowl to deepen. He had hoped the pirate would take it as a cue to exit. But when he finished cleaning up the items and looked back at the man, the gleam in his eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

"In that case... a seer?" He asked, his voice dropping in volume and pitch.

Niale, to his credit, didn't miss a beat. "Don't be ridiculous. Seers are supposed to be a myth."

The man threw his head back and laughed. "They are supposed to be, yes. But I imagine if they did exist, they would look like you."

This man was perceptive, and definitely had experience with seers, based on how his gaze hovered on Niale's eyes. They were a unique mauve tone associated with his kind, though it certainly wasn't common knowledge. The eye contact was unnerving, to say the least. Then the man reached forward suddenly, and Niale hoped his involuntary flinch had been imperceptible. The pirate just smiled, plucking a silk gray scarf from Niale's shoulders. He blinked as he realized that it must have coiled around him in his fall.

Still, Niale wasn't to be caught off-guard. "And I imagine if I ever met a pirate, he would look like you," he said in retort, anxious to divert the man's attention.

His eyes narrowed before he laughed again, and suddenly clapped Niale on the back with enough force to send him staggering. "I look like a pirate because I am one!" He announced raucously. "My name is Maron, Captain of the Stormwing!"

Niale coughed, catching the breath that had been knocked out of him. "Shouldn't you proclaim that a little quieter?"

"Nonsense!" Maron laughed. "I'm well-known around these parts. Even pirates need to conduct business, right?" As if to prove his point, he handed a few bills to the old woman at the cart. She smiled and took the scarf from him, folding it neatly and tucking it into a small bag before handing it back.

Finally, with those words, Niale saw an out. "Absolutely," he answered, turning on his heel. "Far be it from me to interrupt."

"Now, hold on!" Maron shouted, slinging an arm across Niale's shoulders. He had to kneel down to do so, but still managed to make the movement smooth and natural. Niale decided in that moment that he absolutely loathed him. "I have a business proposition for you. Care for a drink?"

He didn't give Niale time to respond before dragging him into the nearest tavern.

iii.
"I'm looking for a seer for my crew," Maron said, tossing back a pint of ale as if he hadn't proclaimed something entirely ludicrous.

Niale, to his credit, didn't spit his own beverage across the table in response. "For your crew?" He repeated. The man nodded, motioning to the waitress for another drink. "As a pirate, wouldn't you want to sell a seer?"

"Absolutely not!" Maron said, slamming his empty cup down onto the wooden table, as if Niale was the one saying odd things. "That would be such a waste! You have no business sense."

Niale shrugged, sipping at his tonic. "I would imagine that if you did manage to get your hands on a seer, which is highly unlikely, that selling them would certainly fill your purse."

"Yes," Maron agreed, flashing a grin at the waitress as she handed him another drink. Niale rolled his eyes. "But I'm not keen on trafficking. Besides, there is something more important than immediately filling my purse."

Niale was surprised to hear that a pirate was uninterested in trafficking. There was a subtantial market for people of many varieties - rare races, Earthborns, those with gifts like his own, those born with physical aspects of their animal ancestors. He knew all about it, had seen it up close. The pirate could have been lying, but Niale wasn't out of the conversation yet. He narrowed his eyes, taking the bait out of curiosity. "And that is?"

"Knowing the future," Maron responded, his countenance turning alarmingly serious. "Knowing which clients are backstabbers, knowing if a job will be worth doing. The eventual filling of my purse with the least amount of risk. Most importantly, the safety of my crew, my family. Think about it. These things are far more important than selling a seer for some quick gold."

For a pirate, Niale realized, this man was intelligent. He had a hard time thinking of a response when the words made so much sense.

Maron looked him over, placing his emptied tankard on the table. For the first time, Niale wasn't afraid of that piercing gaze. "Listen... ah, I didn't catch your name."

"Niale," he answered, before he could convince himself to stay silent.

The pirate smiled, this time much softer than the grin he had been showcasing earlier. "I know what you are, Niale of the Future Sight. I've had a seer on my crew before, and he proved invaluable to me and mine. Saved us all a thousand times. Made us a whole lot of money, more than we could have ever made selling him out. I know what you are, and I want you on my payroll."

Niale was silent for a long moment. The sound of the tavern - cups slamming on wood and orders shouted across the floor, boisterous laughing and scandalized shrieks - all faded into the background as his mind raced. "The things a seer envisions... they end up hurting them. Killing them, even."

"Yes," Maron said. Something flickered in his eyes for just a fraction of a second. "But a seer will always glimpse the future, no matter where they are or who they know. At the very least, why not use the curse to your advantage? Earn a living off of it, for as long as it allows you to live. Have a safe place to go when it strikes. Have someone to help you when it knocks you down. Have a home where it is a gift, not a hindrance."

This time, his flinch was definitely visible. Maron studied him with softer eyes, as if he understood what Niale suffered through. If he really did have a seer on his crew previously, then perhaps he did. Or it was some elaborate ruse to get him to willingly step onto the pirate ship to be sold off or kept against his will, but he couldn't see the point in making such an effort. If Maron really wanted a seer, he was a pirate and he could simply steal him away. Honestly, Niale loathed to admit, kidnapping him would probably be relatively easy.

Years of hiding his abilities from those who wished to use him had left him deeply suspicious of others' intentions though, no matter how sincere they may seem. "If you made this offer to a seer, what would you do if they refused?"

Maron shrugged, taking a long swig from a new tankard. "Well, I mean, I'd definitely be disappointed. Seers are hard to come by. I'd spend a lot of time looking for another one. I can't expect to stumble on another by chance."

"Chance," Niale echoed. "That's all this was?"

The pirate leaned forward and held his gaze, his eyes entirely serious. "Truly, that's all this was. I didn't hunt you down. I only arrived here today and happened to see you in the marketplace. The only reason I know what you are is because I've seen your likeness before. You may not trust the word of a pirate, but I swear this is true."

The seer narrowed his eyes, getting to his feet. "And if I tried to leave now?"

Maron smiled. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. Go home, think about it at least. I'll be here for a few more days before setting sail again. You can find me here at dusk."

That only made him even more suspicious. Would Maron really let Niale leave? "If I meet any seers, I'll pass along your request."

The pirate grinned and tipped his tankard to Niale like a gentleman would a hat. "Please do so. I look forward to hearing from them."

Niale nodded his head and threaded calmly through the crowd toward the exit, his attention fixated on the man he left behind. Maron made no move to follow, but he could easily have men placed strategically for that task. However, other than the patrons already standing, no one got to their feet except for Niale. He passed through the open doorway and stepped onto the cobblestone street, surprised at how quickly night had fallen. Light spilled onto the street through open windows, the air filled with clamor from the tavern. Niale waited beside the door, and still no one else exited. Could the pirate have been telling the truth?

Perplexed, the seer began to walk away, when a voice called out to him. He stiffened immediately, ready for an ambush that never came. At least, not in the way he expected. Instead, Maron jogged up to him with a grin, shoving the bag he had obtained earlier into Niale's arms. "I forgot to give that to you!" He exclaimed. "Keep it, as a token of our meeting. It looked good on you."

Niale felt the blood rush directly to his cheeks and was immediately thankful for the poor lighting in the streets. "I thought I made it clear that I'm not a woman," he said, proud that his voice stayed level as he spoke.

"You did," Maron said, turning on his heel and winking at Niale over his shoulder. "And I'm making it clear that I don't care if you're one or the other."

If his face could get any darker, it would have. The man jogged back into the tavern, where he was greeted by happy shouts, leaving Niale alone with his embarrassment in the darkness. Pirates, he thought indignantly.

That night, Niale was not followed when he returned home. He was not spirited away in the night, nor was he stalked the following day. Against all odds and his deepest suspicions, it seemed that Maron, pirate though he was, had been genuine.

The next night, the seer somehow found himself walking up the street toward the tavern. Maron was outside, leaning against the wall in animated conversation with a small group of people. When their eyes met, he immediately stopped speaking and pushed off the wall in Niale's direction. The pirate jogged over to him with a grin that only grew wider upon spotting the scarf draped around Niale's neck.

The seer felt the heat rise to his face and he looked away as Maron stopped in front of him, his mouth wide open to speak. Niale immediately interjected before he could. "What's the pay?"

For the first time since they had met, Maron was speechless. His mouth opened and closed as he attempted to answer through his shock, before he gave up entirely and simply smiled.

iv.
When his eyes fluttered open, Niale saw nothing but darkness. He knew it was well into the night, and that moonlight would be shining in through the porthole of his quarters. He knew it shouldn't be entirely dark in the room, and he knew his dream hadn't been a dream at all.

His eyes were burning, his head splitting, and a wave of nausea assaulted him, leaving his mouth watering. His every bone and muscle ached and the thought of moving filled him with dread. But he had to get up. He had to find Maron. He had to change what he saw.

Maron. The terror of the near future overpowered his pain and he threw his blankets off, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He could feel the ship moving beneath his bare feet, and it filled him with a bout of vertigo that left him clutching the sheets in his fingers. He waited for it to pass before standing, only for a tide of dizziness to send him staggering to the floor.

He felt pathetic, embarrassed to be seen in his current state. But there were more important things than how he felt and how he was percieved. Slowly, Niale crawled in the direction of the door, reaching out blindly until his hand found the doorknob. He used the handle to pull himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the wood, the soft creaking echoing through his mind like an explosion.

Maron. The seer inhaled deeply, past the nausea and pain and vertigo, and shoved the door open, stumbling out into the hallway. He paused to listen, to try to capture the sounds of nearby voices or footsteps. All was quiet in the night. It must have been late if the crew's gambling had ended. Of course, that meant he was alone when he desperately needed to find someone to take him to Maron. He tried to call out, but the only sound to escape him was something between a hiss and a whisper, his throat dry and sore.

The hallways were narrow enough that Niale could walk down them with his hands on both walls, bracing himself on either side in order to stay upright. His breathing was short and ragged as he stepped down the corrider, his shaking legs threatening to give with every wave rocking the ship. Just reaching the end of the corrider left his head spinning and throbbing, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

"Niale?" A familiar voice asked.

The seer sighed in relief at the sound, his legs choosing that moment to crumple beneath him. A pair of arms wrapped around him before he could collide with the floor, lowering him slowly to his knees. Niale took a moment to gather his breath and calm his reeling mind. It took him even longer to realize that the man was trying to talk to him, his voice gradually growing more concerned the longer there was no response. The hands on his biceps tightened their grip as Niale pitched forward, fighting the new wave of dizziness that threatened his consciousness. "Maron," he croaked, his voice nearly inaudible even to his own ears.

"I'm right here," the man said. "I've got you."

Niale shook his head, immediately regretting the action when he felt bile rise in the back of his throat. "You have to move."

"What?" He could hear the confusion in Maron's voice.

Before he could answer, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and a hesitant, "Captain?"

He couldn't identify the crew member who had joined them through voice alone, and it didn't really matter to him at that moment. He could barely think at all and could not bring himself to try when he had more important things to worry about, like conveying his message. Niale cursed the all-encompassing pounding in his head, the pain that was drowning his thoughts and words. "The ship. Move the ship. Patrol coming... they'll find us."

"You heard him," the Captain said, "Pull the anchor. Wake the crew, get everyone on the oars."

The crew member grunted in understanding and hurried off down the hall, footfalls reverberating through Niale's head as loudly as his own heartbeat, splitting his skull open. He must have made a noise, because Maron's attention was back on him. If he felt even marginally better than he did, he might resent the pirate for the gentle treatment, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but pain in that exact moment. "You're sure it's tonight?" The pirate asked, in a tone that suggested he was repeating himself. Niale hadn't heard him the first time.

The seer didn't have to see Maron in order to know. "You haven't changed into your night clothes yet."

The pirate was silent for a moment. "All right," he said, trusting Niale's assessment implicitly. That trust left the seer's stomach in a twist, though it could also have been the nausea. "It doesn't seem to go well, based on your condition. Who dies?"

It was a question he didn't want to answer, though he knew he had to. His silence seemed to convey enough as the pirate sighed. "All right," he repeated. "Can you stand?"

Niale didn't respond, and Maron pulled him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed. All of the strength granted him by his determination had dissipated when he heard Maron's voice, and it left him completely drained. "That's a no," the pirate said when Niale's knees buckled again, swiftly gathering him up into strong arms. The movement left him too lightheaded to be embarrassed. "Sorry," the man said, his breath warm against Niale's cheek. "I know you hate this."

He didn't have the energy to twist his face into a scowl. All he could do was let out a huff of air, a pathetic attempt at a laugh.

"I won't tell anyone," the pirate said, and Niale could hear the smile on his face through his words. "So tell me, how do I die?"

Maron had started to move, carrying him down the hallway the way he had come. It felt much shorter when he wasn't the one traversing it. "Looking for me," Niale admitted, though he hated to. "In the firefight."

The pirate halted his steps, adjusting his hold on the seer. "Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "Cannon, huh? All right. Well, there are ways around that." He turned on his heel swiftly, as if he wasn't carrying another person, and made his way down the hall, away from Niale's room. "I won't have to look for you if you're with me, right?"

Niale didn't have the energy to respond. His mind was rebelling against him, screaming at him to sleep. He must have drifted for a moment, because he suddenly felt something soft at his back, as he was placed on what felt like the couch in the Captain's quarters. It was a massive multipurpose room above deck, with windows on every wall to give him sightlines on all sides of his ship. The room was used for meetings, heist planning, gambling, and a myriad of other things. There were couches in the center, bookshelves and a dining table off to the side, and Maron's bed tucked into one corner behind a screen. Niale had seen the room many times, and it was easy to recognize it through the familiar cushions beneath him.

He could hear Maron across the room, rummaging through his personal ice chest, speaking with another crew member. He could only make out parts of the conversation as his mind slipped in and out of awareness, but he heard enough to know that they were on the move, and that a patrol ship had been spotted behind them. Then Maron was beside him, placing a cool cloth across his burning eyes and murmuring to him softly. Niale was more relieved than he would admit upon hearing that the pursuing ship was well out of range of cannonfire.

"It looks like their ship is falling behind," Maron told him. "We're faster. They shouldn't be able to catch up."

The relief flooding Niale was palpable in the breath he released. Even the Captain's voice sounded lighter than it had.

"Even so, I'll keep you with me as a precaution," he said. "So you can relax, and stop fighting rest." That time, Niale was able to slightly frown in response. Maron couldn't suppress a laugh. "What? You think I don't see that you're dead tired? Seriously, just take a nap. You'll be stronger when you wake. And I will still be here and you can complain to me then. Deal?"

Sleep was already enveloping his mind at that point, after he had lowered his guard upon hearing of their safety. It was all he could do to grumble before letting it overtake him. Just before he sank into unconsciousness entirely, he thought he felt the feather-light touch of a kiss on his forehead.

v.
There was a knock on his door right as he was readying himself for bed. Niale thought it was odd, how the pirates would knock on his door politely, as if they were regular citizens and not tattoo-covered, piercing-riddled thieves and drunkards. Though he was fairly certain Maron had given them a list of rules before he had joined the crew, and it was a testament to Maron's leadership that they bothered with rules at all.

"Niale?" A voice called through the door softly. "Are you awake?"

At the sound of the Captain's voice, Niale found himself sighing and sauntering over to the door. When he opened it, a familiar grin greeted him. Maron held a candle in one hand, holding it out as he bowed like a true gentleman.

"Niale of the Future Sight," the towering man said, his voice tinged with amusement. "On behalf of the crew of the Stormwing, I, Captain Maron Levalier, would like to cordially invite you to an evening of refreshment and entertainment."

The seer snorted, but couldn't help the twitch in the corner of his lips. "You're inviting me to gamble with you?"

Maron unfolded himself from his theatric bow. "The crew is," he clarified.

"The crew," Niale corrected, "is inviting a seer to join them in a game of high-stakes poker? I can literally see the future."

The Captain shrugged. "We know that isn't quite how it works. Besides, you saved their lives. They just want to show you their gratitude."

Niale was exhausted, despite resting for most of the day, and opened his mouth to decline the invitation. The words never left though, because Maron's eyes were staring deep into his own, and the man's grin had faded into a soft, coy smile that rendered Niale's mind entirely empty. He had to force his eyes away, looking to the side. "Perhaps just the once," he found himself agreeing before he could stop himself.

"Great!" Maron said, clapping him on the shoulder. The blow was meant to be light and jovial, but it still sent Niale off-balance. Maron either didn't notice or didn't care, because he began steering Niale down the darkened hallway, chattering excitedly about getting his revenge against the ship's quartermaster. Niale couldn't help but snort at that - he sincerely doubted that anyone on the crew could defeat the quartermaster at anything involving wit.

As luck would have it, the quartermaster was not partaking in that night's gambling. Instead, he stood watching in the doorframe, sipping delicately at a glass of wine even as the rest of the crew downed tankards of rum. He stuck around long enough to oversee as the crew taught Niale the game, scolding them when they skewed the rules in their favor. After Niale appeared to get the hang of it, the quartermaster excused himself for the night.

"Why isn't he participating tonight?" Niale asked as he drew a card, keeping his face carefully fixed in his usual scowl.

"He said he didn't want to ruin your first poker experience by taking you for all you have," Maron answered, uncharacteristically serious. The rest of the group at the table nodded and murmured grimly.

Niale glanced at the empty doorway. From anyone else, that type of comment would seem horribly condescending. But from the quartermaster, he simply accepted it as fact and silently thanked him.

"But that doesn't mean I won't!" The sailing master shouted, slamming his cards down onto the table emphatically.

The rest of the table groaned and folded, except for Niale, who looked him dead in the eye and gently placed his cards on the table. The galley was silent as he calmly reached forward and collected his winnings, the pirates looking on in incredulity.

"That's all then, right?" Niale asked, filling his bag with his loot.

His words seemed to shock them from their stupor, and the sailing master tossed his hat onto the floor. "That was just beginner's luck!" He sputtered, though his tone was far closer to disbelief than anger. "I'll get you next time!"

The crew's doctor turned to Maron. "Are you sure he has no command over his future sight?" He asked softly.

"I mean..." Even Maron looked shocked, and Niale couldn't suppress the petty feeling of victory at the sight. "I'm pretty sure?" He phrased it as more of a question than a statement, and the crew started shouting.

"Why did we invite the seer!?" One groaned, staring into his empty purse in dismay.

"It was a fluke!" Another exclaimed. "We'll take everything next time!"

The master gunner suddenly jumped onto the table, pointing a finger in Niale's direction. "Don't think this is over!" He yelled. "I'll have my revenge!"

The conversation picked up as nearly every crew member in a raucous clamor, to the point where Niale could barely understand them anymore. But somehow, for the first time, Niale felt something warmer than annoyance at their antics. Something both familiar and foreign at the same time, an emotion he had long thought buried. It built within him and traveled upward until he could no longer hold it back. He started snickering, softly at first, but it grew louder and louder until he was outright laughing, clutching at his stomach as he struggled to catch his breath.

The crew went silent for another moment before resuming their clamor. "Oh, so you think it's funny!?" The master gunner shouted, but his words held no anger and his smile was wide. The rest of the group slung similar lines at him, blending together in a cacophony of lighthearted threats and baudy laughter.

There was no stopping the smile from growing on his face. "I accept your challenge."

His words were followed by a series of jeers and renewed challenges, and he looked over the boisterous group as they slammed back more rum. His eyes fell on Maron, who stared right back at him, the look on his face softer than Niale had ever seen. Niale couldn't bring himself to look away. Instead, for the first time, he simply returned his smile.

vi.
Niale awoke with a start, surging forward with a gasp. A wave of vertigo descended upon him mercilessly, and the ship's violent churning threatened to throw him from his bed. He reached out to brace himself, but there was only air at his side and he pitched forward.

"I've got you," a familiar voice said, and a pair of hands reached out to steady him.

The sparks cleared from his vision as lightning struck nearby, momentarily illuminating the room and his Captain's face. "Maron," he managed to choke out, the words rough and nearly inaudible.

The pirate sighed, the usual grin gone from his face and replaced by unguarded, palpable relief. He gently guided Niale back down into his pillows as thunder echoed all around them. The swaying ship did little to help Niale's stomach and reeling headache.

"I thought..." Maron said, and his voice was lower than Niale had ever heard, devoid of the ever-constant humor that had become so familiar. Its absence was startling, and Niale reached out to touch the hand still resting on his shoulder. Maron looked at him with a furrowed brow, visible in another flash of lightning. "I thought you were gone. It was the first time you... well, you lost consciousness during your vision. I thought that was it."

That explained why Niale had woken up to already restored eyesight, and also why he felt even worse than he normally did after sleeping off a vision. He wanted to make a joke, laugh off his apparent brush with death, but the look on Maron's face kept him from doing so. Instead, he spoke softly. "I'm sorry."

The captain sighed and pulled his hand away, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you remember what you saw?"

Niale thought back, but the memory was a blur, faded into the recesses of his mind like a dream disappearing in wakefulness. "I..." The headache built as he tried to recollect. "Water. I just... remember water. I was... drowning."

Maron noticably stiffened and brought both hands to his face, leaning his forehead against them and obscuring his eyes. A flash of lightning filled the room, the light glinting off the heavy rings adorning the pirate's fingers.

A stab of pain burst behind Niale's eyes, and he couldn't bite back the soft gasp it elicited. He had to remember - someone would die if he didn't. "It was salt water," he said. "I remember the taste."

Maron's voice was alarmingly flat. "Do you remember anything else?"

Niale exhaled a shaky breath as he sifted through the pain in search of details. "It was so dark," he said. "Then there was..." A wave of pain tore though him, causing him to violently shudder.

Beside him, Maron sighed heavily and leaned forward, gently brushing the hair from Niale's eyes. "We will make do," he said, his voice soft. "Don't hurt yourself anymore."

"No," Niale insisted. He pushed through the pain, reaching out for the memory that threatened to drift like mist from his fingers. Then he surged forward in realization, only to be caught by Maron once again. "There was a flash of light. Above. Lightning," he gasped out.

Maron's eye grew wide and he surged to his feet. "It's now. It's right now. Niale," his voice was stern. "Stay here. Don't worry, I'll stop it. Just stay here."

Before the seer could respond, the pirate was already gone, the door open and swaying with the ship as the waves churned. Niale groaned, covering his eyes with his forearm. Despite the agony it brought forth, he dug deeper into the memory, looking for any clues that could identify the victim. It could be anyone on the ship, and he had grown to enjoy all of them. It had been gradual, and he had been more than reluctant, but they somehow forced their way into his life and into his heart.

He hissed as he thought back. The waves, the lightning. Blood drifting above him as he sank deeper. His hand extended before him, reaching toward the sky as he inhaled water. The light shining through the water, illuminating his vision for a fraction of a second, reflecting off of the rings decorating his fingers.

Niale's eyes flew open and he shot out of bed, fighting the vertigo that assaulted him as he staggered to the door. The rings, the heavy gemstones and chains that linked them. He shoved past the door and suppressed his nausea as he stumbled through the hallways. The long, slender fingers those rings adorned, oddly pale for someone who lived on the sea. He reached the wooden staircase that led to the deck and grabbed the banister, pulling himself up with every ounce of strength he had, throwing himself out into the chaos of a raging storm.

Thunder exploded around him, lightning striking just off the deck. There was shouting in all directions, muffled by the waves beating against the ship. He looked around frantically, searching through a surging sea of familiar faces. A wave broadsided the ship, tilting it dangerously and flooding the deck. He reached out and grabbed the nearest object for purchase - a few wooden crates tied down with thick netting. His fingers curled around rope as the water receded, threatening to take him with it.

There was a shout, and Niale looked up to see the lookout lose his grip on the rope ladder leading down from the sails, plummeting through the air only to land in the ready arms of the sailing master. He breathed a sigh of relief even as he tore his eyes away to continue his search.

Thunder deafened him momentarily as his eyes finally found Maron. The Captain was shouting orders, catching a rope as he attempted to secure cargo. His hat was long gone, and the lightning reflected off the jewelry on his fingers. Niale moved to call his name when another bolt of lightning struck, this time hitting its mark. The cargo next to the Captain exploded into shards of wood, trinkets spilling onto the deck and disappearing over the edge. Even over the sound of shouting and the booming thunder, the seer could hear the groan of splitting wood as part of the mast splintered above Maron and began to fall.

Niale didn't remember moving. One moment, he was at the staircase, clutching a nearby rope for balance. The next, he was colliding violently with Maron, who let out a harsh gasp at the impact. Then there was an abrupt, splitting pain in his skull, and he was falling, and then he was enveloped in water.

The sounds of chaos faded away, muffled by the water surrounding him. His ears were ringing, and his throat seized, a violent attempt to keep the water from passing through. He could see the lightning flash above him, and willed himself to swim, but his body wouldn't respond. Another flash of lightning filled the water around him with light, and he could see a dark trail of blood above him as he sank, his hand out as if reaching to the sky.

Despite everything, the sight of it was reassuring. He wore no rings - he wasn't Maron. Maron was safe. He had saved him, had changed the future. If this was going to be his end, he would die with the knowledge that the person most important to him was safe.

His vision started to darken at the edges, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It didn't matter. Unlike his father, Niale wouldn't die witnessing the death of someone he loved, with the knowledge that he could do nothing to change that fate. He had saved Maron.

His throat could no longer hold back the water, and he felt it flood his lungs. Sparks danced across his vision and his eyes clouded. But even as his lungs made one last feeble attempt to inhale, as darkness enveloped his vision and his mind and everything around him... even as he knew it was the end, Niale smiled.

vii.
Consciousness came back to him in pieces. One moment, he was floating in the air. The next, he was wrapped in warmth. In another, he felt fingers interlaced tightly with his own.

"If you don't wake up," a voice said distantly, "I'll kill you."

He wanted to laugh - wasn't he already dead? - but his mind was spinning and the moment passed, only to be replaced by another, hands softly cupping his cheeks and lips gently pressed against his forehead. He sighed into the sensation, only for it to disappear. Then his hand was held between two, a thumb gently kneading circles beneath his knuckles. It was soft and soothing, and he squeezed the hand in his own in appreciation before that moment too passed.

The next sliver of consciousness allowed his eyes to open. Everything was too bright, and immediately a familiar face appeared before him, ruby eyes shining.

"Niale?" The voice asked faintly. "Can you see me?"

He could only smile before the moment faded.

It was mercifully dark when his consciousness finally returned in full. There was no feeling of floating, no shining lights, and no soft voices. This time, there was a sharp pain in his head, and with it came the realization that he wasn't, in fact, dead. The pain was quick and terrible, and he gasped when it struck.

There was immediate movement beside him, and he groaned at the loss of warmth as the body shifted away from him. "Niale?"

The familiar voice was soft and filled him with relief. He couldn't keep his eyes open to see its source, and when he went to respond, he released a hiss as the stabbing pain struck again. His hand flew to his head, only to touch upon a thick layer of bandages. A hand grabbed his and gently pulled it away from the wound.

"Be careful," the voice warned. "You'll make it hurt worse."

Niale sucked in a breath and forced his eyes open. Moonlight flooded the cabin, dancing across ornate patterns painted on the ceiling. The bed he was lying in was softer than his own, the blankets thicker. He was in the Captain's quarters, he realized before he felt another sharp pain. He winced and waited for it to recede before turning his head to the side, meeting ruby eyes. "Maron," he said, his voice thick and his throat dry.

The man released a rush of breath, as if he had been holding it for a long time. "Yes," he said, emotion Niale couldn't identify in his tone. "You recognize me?"

Niale brought a hand to his face, kneading at the pressure point above his eyebrow. "Of course," he said with a groan, looking his Captain over. Maron was pale in the moonlight, dark shadows heavy beneath his eyes. He looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept in days. "And you look terrible."

The pirate laughed, though it was more mirthless than Niale had ever heard from him. "I'm not the only one," the pirate said, his voice betraying his exhaustion. "You should see yourself."

Niale huffed out a small laugh despite the pain in his head. "I think I'd rather not," he admitted before letting his gaze fall entirely on Maron. The pirate looked tired, certainly, but he appeared healthy and uninjured. He had escaped harm, and relief and warmth flooded Niale at his confirmation. "I'm glad you're..."

"Alive?" At this, Maron's expression darkened considerably, though the reason why eluded the seer.

"Yes," he responded, too tired and in too much pain to be anything but honest. "I thought I was going to lose you. I thought..."

"You thought," Maron said, his voice dangerous and low, "that you would take my place? That you would die so I could live?"

"I remembered your ring," Niale explained, struggling to prop himself up onto his elbows. He took Maron's hand, the jewelry in question glittering in the moonlight. Maron pulled away as if Niale's touch burned him.

"So you thought you'd come save me? You thought you'd take the danger for instead?"

Niale, for his part, couldn't understand why Maron sounded so angry. He sat up in the bed, the blanket pooling in his lap. He turned his body so that he could face his Captain, so he could see the barely concealed rage brimming in his eyes, cracking through the furrows in his brow. Maron's teeth were clenched so tightly that there were white lines in his cheeks, and Niale couldn't recall ever seeing him so angry before. "I didn't want you to die," he answered softly.

At this, Maron actually growled, surging to his feet, towering over Niale at his full height. "I'm a pirate, Niale," he hissed. "I'm meant to die at sea. Hell, I chose to. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I became a pirate. So why?" His fists clenched at his side. "Why the hell would you try to take my place!?"

His voice had built in volume until his last words were a shout, and Niale felt his own anger build with it. Niale threw the blankets off and flew to his feet, unable to match Maron in height but more than capable of matching him in ferocity. He glared straight into those ruby eyes, his nails biting into his palms, and he couldn't stop the words from leaving him even if he wanted to. "Because I love you and I don't want you to die, you idiot!"

He could feel the rage coursing through his veins and his body trembling to contain it. All emotion had drained from Maron's face with those words and he stood silent and frozen, which gave Niale more than enough time to continue into a tirade. "Dying is an occupational hazard? I don't care about that! I'm the one who's supposed to die young, not you! My gift," he stumbled over the word, spitting it out like blood from his mouth, "is going to kill me, probably soon, and I don't want a useless death where I watch you suffer and know I can't do anything about it! If one of us is going to be killed, it makes more sense for it to be me, doesn't it!?"

Maron was silent and still.

"Well?" He demanded, breathing heavily and glaring up at his Captain.

Maron just looked overwhelmed and confused, those ruby eyes searching his, though what for eluded him entirely. Eventually, Maron's look softened and his lips pulled up into a tired smile. "You love me?" he asked quietly.

The seer froze, the fire in his veins disappearing immediately. "I - what?"

Maron leaned forward until Niale could feel his breath, and it sent shivers down his spine. His eyes were now clear of anger and filled instead with mischief. "You," he said, leaning forward and breathing down Niale's neck, "said you love me."

Niale threw his arms out and pushed the man away, losing his balance and stumbling back to sit on the bed. "You are so..."

Maron caught himself easily and knelt down in front of Niale, pulling his hands into a gentle grip. "Attractive? Intelligent? Perfect?"

"Terrible," Niale answered, though he didn't pull his hands away. "You are the worst."

Maron, infuriatingly, ignored him completely. "You said you love me," he repeated.

Niale sighed, and knew he wouldn't get away with this one. "Yes," he admitted. "Yes. And that's why I can't let you die. Why I'll do anything and everything I can to keep you alive. I won't apologize for saving you, or taking your place. I won't."

Maron laughed, this time with genuine mirth. "You called me an idiot, but I'm not the only one, am I?"

The pirate raised himself up onto his knees until he was eye level with the seer, placing his hands on the sides of his face, their eyes meeting. Niale tried to stifle the heat he felt creeping into his complexion. "No," he said, "I'm fairly certain it's just you."

Maron's eyes narrowed as his smile grew. "You aren't just stupid, you're stubborn too," he said without anger. "Do you have any idea as to why I was so mad?"

Niale couldn't look anywhere but at Maron, his face held in place. He looked in his eyes, searching for any sign of what he meant and finding nothing but amusement.

"You're going to make me say it, aren't you?" The pirate said with a long-suffering sigh. "You said you didn't want me to die. Do you really think you're the only one who feels that way?"

The seer blinked widened eyes, disbelief apparent in his features.

The pirate sighed and pulled away from Niale's face, taking his hands instead and resting his forehead on them as he stared at the ground. "Do you remember how you felt when you thought I was going to die?"

"Of course," Niale breathed.

"How exactly," Maron said, his voice lower, "do you think I felt when I saw the mast hit you? When I watched you fall into the water? When I-" At this, his voice actually cracked, and Niale immediately tensed and tightened his grip on the pirate's hands. "When I was tying a rope around my waist, praying that you wouldn't drown before I found you? Praying that I found you at all, that the ocean wouldn't swallow you whole?"

"Maron..." Niale started, until he realized that the hands holding his own were shaking.

"And then when I found you, you weren't breathing," he continued, "you were bleeding and your lips were blue, and I thought you were dead. We were able to get you to cough up the water, but then you still wouldn't wake up. For days, all I got was small signs of life, so small I thought I imagined them. A sigh, a squeeze of my hand, or a damn smile before you were gone again."

"Maron," Niale said, gently pulling his hands away. "I'm all right. Look at me."

The man before him still wouldn't look up. Instead, he slowly moved forward, giving Niale more than enough time to pull away. But he didn't, and Maron wrapped his arms around the seer's waist, pulling him closer and burying his face in Niale's collarbone. He sighed, his breath hot against Niale's skin. "But you weren't," Maron said, though he seemed to be calming down. "There were so many times when I thought I lost you. More than I cared to count."

Niale reached his hands up, softly carding his fingers through Maron's hair. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

The pirate laughed into the crook of his neck. "I thought you weren't going to apologize."

"For saving you? No, I won't apologize for that. I won't even apologize for taking your place, because I know I would do it again if given the chance," Niale said. He leaned his head down closer to Maron's hair, breathing in the scent of cigars, smoked fish, and the sweet tang of cinnamon. It was an unusual fragrance unique to Maron, and it was soothing in a way he couldn't entirely explain. "But for the way I made you feel, for worrying you so... that is what I will apologize for."

Maron laughed again, this time pulling away. "Worrying," he repeated. "I'm trying to show you that I love you too, and all you take from it is that I was worried?"

Niale blinked. "You - what?"

The pirate managed to groan and laugh at the same time. "You are such an idiot."

The seer was silent for a full minute before the corners of his lips pulled upward. "So are you," he said, before closing the distance between them, smiling into the kiss.

Love didn't perform miracles. Love wouldn't save their lives or solve their problems. Love simply made their burdens easier to bear. Love gave them a home.

Title: Niale of the Future Sight
Name: Niale
Gender: Male
Race: Montris*/human hybrid
Inception: Natalborn*
Age: 23
Occupation: Seer
Partner: Maron
Abilities: Limited precognition, high endurance, great intelligence
Weaknesses: Somewhat physically frail, temporarily blind after visions, frequent headaches
Likes: Routine, normality, sweets, baking, warmth, jewelry, theater
Dislikes: Visions, feeling weak, heavy meals, feeling cold

Personality: Somewhat standoffish, to hide any other emotions. Niale is at his most vulnerable directly after a vision, when he cannot control his emotions. Because this makes him feel weak and inferior, he tends to overcompensate by acting haughty and unapproachable. Those who don't know him (and those who do) consider him rude and too direct, as he has little patience for mandatory social niceties. He is resentful of his gift, as he feels it holds him back from doing what and being who he wants. His visions often leave him bedridden, and their unpredictability makes any outing difficult. He becomes frustrated that he has to plan for sudden visions when all he wants is to go to the theater. These negative emotions bleed through in his attitude and words.

Despite his constant emotional and physical distress, Niale doesn't actually complain about how he feels. He'll complain about how inconvenient it is, but never about how it actually affects him. This is to hide how he feels, as he detests being a burden more than anything. Maron often finds himself coming up with excuses just to get Niale to rest, as the seer will continue to silently endure no matter how unwell he feels. In many ways, he has greater endurance than those of good health, because he persists despite being ill nearly all of the time.

Because Niale's visions are of those near him, he tries to keep everyone at arm's length. The stronger his bond, the stronger and more frequent his visions. Despite this, he actually enjoys the company of others and would likely be friendlier if he wasn't plagued with visions of his friends in pain. No matter how hard he tries to avoid it and how off-putting he can be, Niale still is able to make friends fairly easily, if not in the traditional sense. He is especially good with children, because their bratty attitudes match.

In spite of his attempts at detachment and his unapproachable personality, Niale cares deeply for those important to him. Perhaps more because of those factors, as anyone who can put up with his abrasiveness is someone to cherish. This is why, when he has a vision of things to come, he does everything in his power to prevent it from happening and protect those important people.

Appearance: Niale has had his gift from childhood. Because of this, the stress and trauma of his visions routinely makes him ill which has made him grow small in stature and somewhat frail. His mauve eyes are inherited as a sign of the gift, and they turn white when he is experiencing a vision, making him temporarily blind until he rests. He wears layers of dark gray or black clothing to hide his small stature, and to keep him warm as he is unusually susceptible to cold. Niale is fond of silver jewelry, often wearing small pieces such as stud earrings or thin chains.

He is known to wear a perpetual scowl. Maron thinks he has a rather androgynous beauty that would be apparent to all if only he would stop glaring all the time. The scarf Niale wears was a gift from Maron from when they first met.

*Montris are a canine species known to have wings. All humanoid species in the world are some combination of human and animal, as combining species' genetics was the only way to guarantee that humanity endured after nearly destroying the planet and themselves. The type of hybrid is important in determining biological compatibility and potential for yielding offspring, as many species are incompatible despite all appearing human.

*Natalborn individuals are those born of the traditional union of two people. This is worth noting because there are also those referred to as Earthborn, whom are individuals born directly from nature itself, without any parents save for the planet. It is thought that Earthborns are the bodies of the dead and buried, repurposed with new life by the spirit of nature, though this is unproven. Niale is Natalborn, but his father was Earthborn, a man from whom he inherited his strong precognitive abilities.

It is said that long ago, after the great wars that decimated the human population, the planet was forced to create Earthborns in order to ensure its survival. Some of these Earthborn individuals have incredible gifts, and it is rumored that a select few are special individuals whose very existence governs the balance of some aspect of the world, be it natural or spiritual. It is thought that seers descend from one such individual known as the Keeper of Aeons, who exists to keep the timeline in balance. This Keeper was strong, but he couldn't bear the burden of seeing both the past and the future, and so he chose to give one of these abilities to Earthborns. This is the legend of how seers, with precognitive visions, came into being.

While the majority of seers are Earthborns, their children have been known to inherit their abilities. It is also more common for males to be seers than females, though females descended from seers may pass a precognitive ability on to their children. Niale's father was an Earthborn seer, and his mother a regular Natalborn citizen who loved his father deeply. After his father passed away and it was confirmed that Niale inherited his precognition, his mother took her own life in grief, mourning the loss of her husband and her child's future.

Niale was very young when his parents passed away, and he was placed in the foster system. Because seers are considered a myth due to their rarity and the multitude of fakes in the world, he was thought to have an undiagnosable illness which made placing him in a new home very difficult. He was finally adopted as a teenager, and he thought he might perhaps have a normal life, or as normal a life as he could get. However, his adoptive family knew exactly what his affliction really was, and sold him to a trafficker.

He endured years of captivity until he was able to use his ability to plan his escape, and has spent the rest of his years in solitude, never in one place for too long. He is wary of people and their intentions, and he keeps himself at a distance in order to spare himself any visions, which only ever feature people near him, physically or emotionally. He is usually forced to live in relatively well-populated areas due to the limitations of his health, which requires him to work mostly from home. He tends to take on copy-writing or scribe work, and he is highly intelligent and has wonderful handwriting as a result.

After being recruited by Maron to join his crew, he can finally make a living without hiding his ability, and no longer needs to do any other work. He still is quite fond of reading, but has since discovered different hobbies to take up now that his time isn't split between visions, recovery, and work. He enjoys chocolate-based sweets (as they seem to help him recover his energy faster) and creating them in the pirate's galley, which is quite un-pirate-like of him. The rest of the crew are outwardly appalled by the use of their kitchen for baking, but the sweets end up disappearing at an alarming rate that cannot possibly be attributed to Niale alone.

He has also taken up playing a small silver flute that Maron acquired. The crew sometimes has him play upbeat songs in to drink and dance to. He is also known to be a formidable gambler, even against his fellow crew members. His perpetual scowl serves as an incredible poker face, and the crew suspects him of using his abilities to see what hands they have in the future. This is, of course, an impossibility that they are aware of, but he prefers to have them suspicious of him because it makes them easy to read.

Niale seems to enjoy his time as part of the crew, despite his initial misgivings and ongoing battle with solitude. Despite his attempts to keep himself isolated, he is actually a lonely person who slowly comes to feel that he would rather risk a shorter, more fulfilling life. It takes him a long time to realize that he has instinctively become closer with his fellow crew members, Maron in particular. There is little he wouldn't do in order to keep them safe, even if it means taking their place in a dangerous future.

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all above artwork, profile design/coding, and story created by Vii
profile quote from the song "zero gravity" by kerli
profile design resources from 9-liters-of-art

Pet Treasure


Snow Queen Dagger

Tied Gray Scarf

Elegant Ring Box

Silver Twist Bracelet

Silver Stacked Rings

Silver Pirate Earloops

Dainty Silver Anklet

Ventura Trinket Box

Black Comb

Silver Flute

Lavender Oil Diffuser

Aeon Pillow

Fleece Masquerade Throw

Black Lace Teacup

Box of Specialty Tea

Rectangular Cast Iron Stove

Sheet Pan

Pie Pan

Round Baking Pan

Rectangular Baking Pan

Chocolate Raspberry Tart

Chocolate Macarons

Chocolate Cream Pie

Chocolate Cake

Choc Chip Brownies

Chocolate Chip Cookie

Chocolate Wafer Roll

Dark Chocolate Heart Cookie

Chocolate Dipped Star

Mini Milk Chocolate Cube

Pet Friends


Maron
"I don't say it often, but I don't know where I would be without you by my side."