Hiraeth

Chapter Nine

My eyes study the people around me. Most women have the same faded, vintage dresses, and men wear loose shirts and pants—like the pirates. I also see merchants wearing a cloak with a colorful pattern, their typical Flemish beaver hat, and worn-out boats.

I set off down the street, blending in with the crowd and trying to look inconspicuous as much as possible. No one has noticed my different appearance yet, which is why I'm thankful that everything’s going okay today.

Death’s voice that’s called me earlier is lost in the noises of the crowd. I know, for sure, that he gives up, or he realizes that whatever he’s about to say is useless because he’s supposed to be angry at me, and I am to him.

Vendors have set up along the lengths of the dusty, dirty, and smelly, or to be exact, a terrible street. The narrow passageway is stuffed with people, making the way more cramped. The flow of people gets a bit slower than earlier, and I don’t know if I can leave this place in a matter of minutes. I guess this will take a few hours. But it still depends, though, on how long this passageway is.

The crowd pushes me around. Whenever I want to turn west, I can't just meet people's current turning east. I don't know where I am heading, but I badly want to get out from this horde of people. They don't seem to care about me. No one ever laid their eyes on me or paid attention to other people, as much as I know. If they bump a person, they don’t care as long as they can also get out of this hell.

Sighing, I follow the current, ignoring those people who accidentally step on my feet. I have also stepped on others' feet, and they didn’t seem to care, so even if I wanted to shout at them, I temporarily shut my pride.

It's not long after that we enter an open space. The people are now slowly moving away from each other because this new space seems to hold many people—even the whole city itself. I suppose I'm not exaggerating it. But anyway, I feel like I'm free. I can now breathe naturally, but foul smells enter my nose.

I scratch my nose to adjust from the smell while I wander my eyes around me. For a second, I meet a pair of curious eyes not far from me. An older woman owns the eyes. She has skeleton-like features with wrinkled skin. I am afraid that her bones will break with a single clutch.

I am the one to break our eye contact. Since the place is now spacious, there’s a greater possibility that someone will notice me like that older woman. I need to stay in crowded areas.

But when I’m about to turn my heel in the direction I’ve come from, I jump to my feet when I hear a full, round sound from a distance and followed by booming cheers from the crowd.

Driven by curiosity and since there's already a space to wander freely, I walk closer to the front, avoiding the men and women chattering like bees buzzing, and also ignoring that I am now making an irrational decision for coming close to an unknown and completely ignoring the fact that I might die because of this. I guess I’m just a natural i***t.

When I get closer, I see a massive gong from where the sound comes. A skinny man on his silky robe stands in front of the gold-ish gong, holding a wooden stick.

There's like a performance going on. That explains why a huge crowd gathers here.

Maybe it won't hurt to watch a bit until I do what I meant to do here—to find my father and Wade.

My eyes widen when a sudden realization hits me. It’s like God is sending me a sign. I am suddenly in this crowded place where I guess half, if not one-fourth of the entire population of Port Royal is here. There's a chance I'll find the person for whom I’m looking. It might be hard to find someone in this crowded place, but it's much harder if I search all over Port Royal to find two persons. I don’t even have any idea where to start. So, now, I’ll start in this place.

And now, I guess, I’m not an i***t after all.

Smiling, I fix my attention at the front. I think the performance depicts a pirate's journey, but it isn't. It's a fairytale. And the one performing as a princess looks like a real one.

She's undeniably gorgeous. She looks extremely elegant just by wearing a long, golden vintage gown that has fitted sexily on her neck and shoulders down to her waist. The skirt has many layers that flare gently from her waist to the skirt hem, making her waist look smaller and sexier.

Then there are two handsome young men with her—a prince and a knight in shining armor.

I've said I only watch a bit, but now I find myself enjoying the performance. It's like the typical fairytale in my world. The two families are rivals. But the prince and princess fall in love with each other. Then the princess knight in shining armor hell-bent does everything to save the princess from the harm brought by the prince's family. He even receives punishment for breaking the rule of not letting the princess meet the prince. Despite knowing that her knight in shining armor takes all the blame for her actions, the princess still does what she's not supposed to do for the sake of her love for the prince that tells her sugar-coated words.

And oh! The princess knight in shining armor is in love with her. The sad part is she knows!

“That shouldn't be the ending!” are the words left from my mouth.

Mine supposed to be “stay low-key” is falling apart. I can feel it when the majority of the audiences' gazes turn at me.

I'm doomed!

In just a matter of time, I am now the center of attention.

To save me from another embarrassment, I scratch my hair and say, “Uhm . . . The princess should choose his knight in shining armor that saves her several times. Not that good-for-nothing prince who only sits on his chair and acts mightily, right?”

Now the performers are glaring.

“Why choose the prince?” I continue anyway. “Because that's bound to happen? Because if she chooses the prince, their reign will continue? Okay, that's bullshit! And stupid! For the princess, of course.”

And right at this moment, I know it's my cue to exit.

Forcing a smile on my face, I take three steps backward, turn my back, but audiences push me.

I fall with my butt; that is the first to hit the ground. I've got a pain in the ass, literally, and my supposed escape went wrong.

My “stay low-key?” Never mind.

“I’m sorry if I offended someone,” I say as fast as I can, but the audiences and performers' brows cross.

Still, in pain, I force myself to stand up. When I’m now on my feet, I clear my throat even if there's nothing on it.

“I'm sorry,” I repeat, this time, slowly and clearly. “In the place, I come from—” s**t! Did I just low-key says I'm not from here? What the f*ck! But I continue anyway. “In every performance, audiences must give feedback to the performers for them to grow.”

“Well, well, well,” says a bulky, tall man, wearing the same faded shirts, pants, and a worn-out robe. I swallow a lump in my throat. When he gets closer, he points at a—what the hell! An ax at me! It's only the one thing with him that's shining.

What the actual f*ck! His right hand is severed, and all he has is the ax's head, which is attached to his wrist.

Okay, time to panic!

“I must say, yer not in yer place,” he adds.

Honestly, he doesn't look like the kind of person to watch this kind of cliché performance. It's surprising to see him here and his men, who are now slowly making their way to the crowd, pushing anyone who unintentionally gets on their way.

There's nothing else that the poor audiences who get pushed can do. They can only lower their heads and never meet the eyes of these bullies. Now, I'm sure I'm in so much trouble.

I don't want it to cross paths with these pirates. They're two times scarier than the pirates in the Arkean ship.

“The Ax.” Someone nudges the scary man's elbow, the latter glares at him. Swallowing hard, he continues, “S-Saw that woman leave the Arkean ship. Hear Death calling her.”

Oh, so he knows Death!

So, I flash a wide smile. “Yes, yes! Death knows me—even the captain. You know him, right? So, can you please put down your hand—I mean—ax?” I smile nervously. “Pretty, please?”

The scary man scans me with his scrutinizing eyes. “Must be another wench.”

My smile falls.

A wench!

Do I f*cking look like one?

“Tie her.”

“Wait! What? No! F*ck!” I yelp, then rush to escape.

I sprint to the busy, crowded street where there’s a possibility to find a hiding space.

I can see on the faces of the people I pass that they don’t care about a woman running for her life. It is as if nothing is happening. They will just set aside voluntarily. They seem to be very used to this situation.

I enter another narrow passageway. I take the risk to turn my head for a bit and find out five people get stuck in the entrance because they've all entered at once.

A silly laugh escapes my lip. But I continue running when I see the pirates gaining their speed. I follow through with the pirates and ladies entering an establishment. I'm petite, so I easily mixed well. Still, I lower my head to ensure no one sees me enter here.

And that's where I'm wrong. Because when I turn my head again, one of my pursuers meets my eyes.

I run again when he calls the other men, making us now the center of attention because I ruin a performance again.

Pirates are having their fun making way for me. I can see in their faces that both have irritation and amusement. These men find a woman getting chased by many stinky pirates as entertainment.

Fortunately, I can move faster than the men behind me because I can go through small spaces. I'm also wearing my running shoes that are so comfortable to wear, unlike them. Their almost-close-to-it's-end boots seem hard to run. They are also moving in the same direction, making it more challenging since they mostly get stuck.

Idiots.

I feel my legs almost giving up. I must find a hiding place to have a rest. These men will also get tired then leave the hell out of me. So, when I see a slightly open door, I enter without thinking if there's someone in there. I shouldn't have done it.

“Holy carabao!” I yell.

I first see two-person A naked woman lying on a bed, a half-naked man on top of her. God knows what they are doing! Oh my gosh!

The woman meets my eyes with her wide, green-ish eyes. And the man stops when he sees the woman's reaction. He turns around. And now we're all staring at each other, wide eyes.

“What the hell!” I curse and close my eyes, but then open them when I realize it's alright. It's not like I haven't seen a woman without her clothes. But f*ck! Those abs. His broad shoulders and sexy back! Drops of sweat roll over it, making it shine as the light shines on it.

“Ris?” Death says, not sure if he's seeing me.

Of all the people I find here, why him? Why this bastard? And the f*ck did he just call me? Ris? I never permit him to call me like that! We're not close! We even hate each other! And now, I hate him a thousand times!

“You know her?” the woman asks in disbelief. Her thin eyebrows meet. Her wide eyes change to a glare. If glares can kill, I'll probably have a burial right now.

Without Death's shirts on, he gets down from the bed. And in a flash, my eyes fall into his loose pants, revealing his v cut abs.

I shallow hard two times when I hear a knock. Death looks at me, then at the door. All I can do is look somewhere, not in the temptations in front.

The knock becomes hard and fast. It's like someone is about to destroy it to get in.

Death, in a span, opens it, not even bothering to wear his shirt back.

I step backward so anyone behind the door won't see me.

“Does a woman enter here?"

Oh my god!

I know there's a possibility that they've seen me enter this room, but I'm hoping with all the odds that they are not what I expect. F*ck! I'm stuck!

“There's two,” Death answers, glancing at me sideways.

I almost curse him, but I've just settled on glaring at him.

What do I expect? Will he help me? Duh! He never helps me get down from the crow's nest when in fact, he's the reason I'm there.

“The curly one.”

Death looks at me again.

F*ck him! Why does he keep on looking at me? And what's with his face? Why the f*ck is he smiling? As much as I remember, he hates me because we want the same thing, and I’ve punched him. Is he smiling because, right now, he knows that he can get back on me for beating him?

“There's two here.” He laughs.

And he's right. Mine is like noodles while the woman has wave-like hair.

I realize I'm staring at her hair when I notice her raging eyes.

Woah! Hold on! It's not like it's the end of her world because I interrupted.

“Stay away from this, Death. Hand over the girl that looks like a witch.”

My jaw falls.

“Ah, witch.” He laughs again. And he dares to look at me again!

I don't know what I'm thinking, but I automatically shake my head when he's about to speak.

And f*cking Death just laughs at me again! De javú. He's like this when we first meet—smiling and laughing at whatever the f*ck I say and do. Does he forget what he has spoken at that traumatizing crow's nest and punching him right on his pretty face?

“She said she's not here.”

I. Almost. Faint.

Like what the f*ck!

Imagine you're born human, but you grow up like an animal. Hell! He's one of the reasons why there's a middle finger.

“Don't make us a fool! Give us the woman!”

I stand up. I ready myself for whatever will happen. There's no other way aside from the window. But it will take a few seconds to open if it's locked. I don't even know where the key is. But anyway, I will cross the bridge when I get there.

“You, get out!” the woman shouts, making me jump a bit.

Her voice seems like it comes from under the ground. High pitched and scary. The hole in her nose is broad.

Okay, I get it. The woman is annoyed. Who won't want to be interrupted when they are near the c****x? Of course, if it happens to me and the person I'm doing it with is gorgeous, I definitely wi—Sh*t! I need holy water!

“What did she do?” Death asks again.

Why does he keep on asking?

Wait!

OMG!

He's buying me some time!

Now I understand.

So, I slowly walk towards the window—looking as I step at the door if the men see me or barge in. But Death slightly closes the door, and his broad shoulder hides the view.

When I reach the window and push it gently, it's open.

I laugh.

The anxiety that the window is locked and I can't find the key is now gone.

My life seems to fall into the right place. I guess my unlucky days have finally come to an end.

I take a glance at the woman. She's still angry. Then to Death. Before I leave, I give him a wink.

And right there, I've left them surprised and amused.