Day Six | Red Sails

[exorarepairings]

Author:
Prompt #: 157
Title: Red Sails
Pairing(s): Chen/Tao
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 11,600w
Warning(s): Violence
Summary: Thief Jongdae joins pirate captain Zitao's crew on a treacherous quest for the Fountain of Youth. It's only a temporary job, because there's no way he'd put his life on the line for Zitao's vanity – is there?
Author's note: Dear prompter, thank you for allowing me to delve back into the pirate fantasies of my youth! Hope you enjoy. Also, a massive thank you to the Mods for their kind patience with my tardiness!



With a newly minted bounty for robbery and murder on his head, Jongdae sat in the shadows of the inn, eating a bowl of rice and keeping his ears peeled.

Over the sounds of his chewing, he heard someone say, "That pirate captain, the Gold-Trimmed Prince, is in town, asking around for a cabin boy."

"He'd have better luck kidnapping one," a fisherman replied. "Who'd want to wait on an entitled ex-royal like him?"

"You mean he really was a prince?"

"They say he's the grandson of a second-tier princess. Raised knowing nothing but luxury. Although now he needs to plunder to sustain his lifestyle."

Picking at the rice grains stuck to the bottom of his bowl, Jongdae considered this information. On one hand, this pirate captain sounded like an asshole, but on the other, a stint as a cabin boy would whisk him safely away from the authorities.

Before Jongdae could approach the conversing party, the door opened with a draft of cold wind, and the entire room looked to the young man striding into the inn.

"Speak of the devil," the fisherman whispered.

It was evident how the Gold-Trimmed Prince acquired his name. Jongdae had never seen finer robes in his life. The Prince's magnificent cloak was dark velvet embroidered with swirling gold patterns. Spilling from the sleeves were bouquets of gold lace cuffs, and gold chains adorned with rubies and diamonds hung around his neck. A curved sword swung at his side in an ornate scabbard, and large pearl teardrops dangled from his ears, pure white on the left and an iridescent black on the right. But while Jongdae had expected the opulent clothes, what he hadn't pre-empted was the man's beauty, so captivating that it could magnetise a crowd.

A pout on his plush lips, the Prince sat in an empty seat at a half-occupied table. The other patrons immediately vacated, making room for the Prince’s crew. The quiet in the room was stifling. The Prince raised his jaw and swept a mighty glare around the inn. Heads turned away and conversation resumed, but Jongdae continued to observe the pirates. The man sitting on the Prince’s right spoke to a server and a huge plate of meat was placed in front of them.

Meal devoured, a crew member burped, and Jongdae took this as his cue to slide into one of the remaining chairs at the Prince’s table. The five pirates sat up straighter, but none of them drew their weapons to Jongdae’s relief.

Jongdae met the Prince’s glare and grinned. “Heard you were employing.”

The Prince narrowed his eyes and Jongdae’s heart began to race. Had he leapt too quickly? From afar, the Prince had the air of cold power, but up close Jongdae could feel simmering violence and unpredictability, like a leopard with claws ready to be unsheathed.

Then a smile curled at the corner of the Prince’s lips and he said, “Well, that depends on what services you’re offering.”

“Can you cook?” one of the other men broke in.

The Prince scowled. “Jongin, please.”

Jongdae laughed at that, his loud signature laugh that his mother used to say almost sounded fake.

The Prince turned back to him. “You look familiar…”

“Really?” Jongdae said. “I think I would have remembered meeting someone as striking as you.”

The right-hand man rolled his eyes, but the Prince preened.

“Kim Jongdae,” the pirate captain declared, “the fugitive, am I right? Wanted dead or alive for… I forget your bounty.”

“Am I that notorious? I’m honoured to have caught the eye of someone as illustrious as yourself.”

The Prince suppressed another smile. "Have you worked on a ship before, Jongdae?"

"Of course," Jongdae replied.

“We’re in need of a cabin boy. Your duties will be designated on the job. In return we’ll pay you—“

“You’ll be paid in food and board,” the captain’s right-hand man cut in. “After your first voyage with us, you’ll either be asked to leave or to stay on the crew for a negotiated bounty share.”

The Prince nodded. “The quartermaster’s spoken. What say ye?”

Too easy, Jongdae thought. He’s a slave to his vanity. I can control him.

“I accept,” Jongdae said.

The Prince smirked. “Well, you need to, don’t you? They’ll arrest you otherwise. Oh, but a caveat – if we have any doubts about your loyalty, we will kill you. No equivocation. I’ll be sure not to let your pretty tongue save you.”

He giggled, high-pitched with childishness or mania, and the certainty Jongdae had felt a moment ago wavered.

“Understood.”

The Prince rose with a flourish. “Then welcome to Huang Zitao’s crew. This is our quartermaster, Kim Minseok; his word is your law. Sailing master Kim Jongin, boatswain Do Kyungsoo and powder monkey Byun Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun winced. “Master gunner. I’m master gunner.”

“Now let us depart.” Zitao said, as Minseok counted out coins and set them carefully on the table.

Before he could reach the door, Zitao spun on his heel and exclaimed, “Almost forgot! I need to use the fireplace.” Rifling inside his coat, he said to Jongdae, “By the way, to dissipate some mystery, I recognised your face from the bounty board.”

“If your poster is up, it’s little wonder the captain knows your name,” Baekhyun sniggered. “He occupies himself long enough scouring bounty boards.”

“Can you blame me?” Zitao cried, pulling from his breast a huge stack of crumpled papers. “Would you not do the same if your visage were reduced to this?”

Jongdae drew back a little to see the image Zitao had thrust into his face. The overly detailed illustration was unrecognisable. The artist had exaggerated the fat underneath the portrait’s eyes so that its gaze was reduced to a sickly squint. The nose was the garish centrepiece of the drawing, rendered bulbous and lopsided.

Zitao flung the papers into the inn’s fireplace. “I can’t have people believing this is what I look like.”

Jongdae was bemused, but not just by the poster. This seemingly cold and lethal pirate captain was such a fool, it was almost endearing.

“At least you looked good in yours, Kim Jongdae,” Zitao said, donning his hat and leading the way out of the inn.

Baekhyun drove an elbow into Jongdae’s ribs. Jongdae recoiled, but Baekhyun smiled comfortably as he said, “He wouldn’t have taken you on otherwise. We have a reputation to uphold.”

“The Gold-Trimmed Prince and his handsome crew,” Jongdae said before he could consider whether the name was an insult.

He needn’t have worried. Zitao revelled in the title, laughing into the evening, and even the most stoic of the crew, Kyungsoo, didn’t hide a smug smirk.

The wind gusted as they approached the dock, kicking up sea spray. Jongdae was startled when Zitao wrapped an arm around his shoulder, although he didn't flinch. He could feel Zitao’s warmth, the captain’s great cloak providing refuge from the wind. Zitao pointed to the dark silhouette of a three-masted junk, stirring on the waves like a hunkering beast.

“Behold,” Zitao announced, “Candour.”

They boarded the ship, Zitao and Minseok leading Jongdae. Minseok walked with a limp and, from the stiffness of his right foot, Jongdae suspected the quartermaster had a wooden leg.

As the others prepared to set sail, Jongdae was taken below aft deck to the great cabin. The room was less extravagant than Jongdae had expected. The captain's bed was a large four-poster, but the furnishing was otherwise sensible. Beside it was a finely carved vanity strewn with gold jewellery and precious stones that spilled from trinket boxes like petty accessories. If the captain treated such priceless gems with nonchalance, what immense treasures was he hiding?

In the adjacent study, Zitao sat at a heavy redwood desk, rolled up his lace sleeves, and began grinding an inkstone. Minseok drew some parchment from a drawer and placed it in front the captain before standing like a guard behind him.

In a messy script, Zitao wrote an illegible title at the head of the page, then paused.

He frowned up at Jongdae, "Can you read?"

"Only Hangul," Jongdae said.

Zitao stood and passed the brush pen to Minseok, who took the captain's seat and started quickly writing neat characters. When he finished, he handed the document to Jongdae.

"Mark it well," Minseok said.

So this was the legendary pirate code. No desertion, no robbery, no on-board fighting, but equal access to provisions for all. It was reasonable. Even a criminal like Jongdae could abide by these rules.

Jongdae hesitated. This was his last chance to back out. But as he stood, weight shifting with the ship's movement, he felt life on the sea might not be too bad. He had, after all, found no joy on land for over a decade.

A ticket to freedom, Jongdae thought, and signed his name, the unpractised characters looking juvenile beneath Minseok's handwriting.

"So where exactly are we voyaging to?" Jongdae asked.

"We're on a quest," Zitao said, "to find the Fountain of Youth."

Jongdae blinked. "You're searching for... A myth?"

"It is no myth! We have a map!" Zitao paused. "Or rather, we know where we can obtain a map..."

Jongdae, jaw dropped, turned to Minseok, who he had, up to this point, trusted to be a rational man. "You're okay with this?"

"The Fountain of Youth is presently the most sought-after treasure among pirates," Minseok said. "If its powers are true, then whoever controls the Fountain controls a limitless bank of wealth. And we now know its existence is real, courtesy of a pirate who has seen the Fountain with his own eyes."

"If he's found the thing, what is there left to claim?"

"This pirate was forced to flee when the monster guarding the place slew his entire crew."

Jongdae scoffed. "Well, that's reassuring."

"I trust in my crew, Jongdae," Zitao said, voice low. "And as one of them, I hope you will in turn trust me."

Trust? He knows nothing about me, Jongdae thought, but kept his face blank and smiling.

"Go find Kyungsoo on deck," Minseok said. "He will have a job for you."

With a bow, Jongdae took leave.

Minseok waited for Jongdae's footsteps to grow faint behind the closed door before he said, "That was rash, Zitao."

"Come now, even you agree we need a cabin boy."

"You hired him on a whim."

Zitao lounged back in his chair. "Are you jealous, Minseok?"

Minseok scoffed. "I should hardly care where you place your affections, Zitao, but I would have preferred you query the man regarding his experience and capabilities."

Zitao quietened. "I have a good feeling about him."

Minseok sighed. He knew better than to argue with Zitao’s intuition. "Then let's hope he at least has a decent pair of sea legs."

***

With a lurch of the ship, Jongdae tumbled five steps backwards. Limbs wobbly after turning the capstan, he was finding it extremely difficult to stay upright.

"You said you'd worked on a ship before, am I right?" Kyungsoo said, helping Jongdae to his feet. "What were your duties?"

Jongdae grabbed a rope and twisted it around his arm. "Well, as stowaway, my duties involved scavenging food, hunting rats, keeping out of sight..."

Kyungsoo stared and Jongdae felt himself at risk of being thrown overboard. But then Kyungsoo chuckled and resumed checking the rigging.

"You'll learn quickly. Heave!"

The two men hauled the rope, muscles straining with the effort, until the foresail turned to catch the wind at an angle.

Kyungsoo turned and shouted, "Sails set!"

From the poop deck, Jongin gave them a thumbs up.

"Now to raise the other anchor," Kyungsoo said.

Jongdae groaned but followed Kyungsoo to the second capstan. They each took one of the spokes and began to winch up the anchor.

"Out of curiosity," Jongdae said as he stood back to let Kyungsoo secure the anchor, "are your destinations always figments of myth?"

Kyungsoo looked up from his knots, an eyebrow raised. "What do you believe lies over the eastern horizon?"

"I don't know. More ocean?"

"Have you seen it? I could tell you that there is ocean, and that east of Japan, there is more ocean still, but how would you verify my stories without sailing east yourself? Whether I believe in the Fountain's restorative powers is irrelevant; there is the possibility that such a thing exists and I want to see it with my own eyes."

"You'd lay down your life for that?"

"I don't plan on dying this voyage. But if it happens, what of it? Death will take me some day."

"That's a morbid way to live."

Kyungsoo laughed. "I've learnt to appreciate each moment as it comes. And in this moment, I think you ought to get started on lunch."

Jongdae followed Kyungsoo through the ship. "Good idea. I'm starving."

Kyungsoo swung open a door and shepherded Jongdae inside. "You'd best get a move on then."

Confronted by a cramped kitchen messily packed with food supplies, Jongdae groaned. "Honestly, Kyungsoo... I'm not much of a cook."

"You won't be worse than Baekhyun. I had to teach him how to boil water," Kyungsoo said, already halfway out the door.

***

Zitao didn't get a chance to speak again with Jongdae until the following day. Under the mid-morning sun, Jongdae was swabbing the deck. His shirt sleeves clung to the contours of his muscles and a damp triangle of sweat stretched down his back. He sang as he worked, the sweet melody ringing with strength and clarity.

Perching on the railing, Zitao bit loudly into an apple. Jongdae turned at the noise, squinting against the sun.

"Captain," he smiled.

"You missed a spot," Zitao said through a mouth full of food. "Your cooking skills are definitely superior to your cleaning ability."

Arrogant bastard, Jongdae thought, but he respectfully nodded and scrubbed the dry timber.

"Why did you stop singing?" Zitao asked.

"Ah, to be both cabin boy and ship's musician. You ask much of me, Captain."

"It would please me if you sang."

Jongdae did not sing for the pleasure of others. Audience or not, he lived to make music, no matter the cost. He stole ceremonial bells, broke into mansions to try his hand at heirloom harps, and pilfered metal to shape into jaw harps. It was better to steal and play as he wished than to be paid to perform under the orders of others. The last thing he wanted was to be cooped up singing sea shanties for a crew of uncultured pirates.

"Anything you wish," Zitao murmured. "Your voice reminds me of a musician I used to know."

Jongdae passed the mop from one hand to another. "Do you happen to have instruments on this ship, Captain?"

"Will you sing if I let you play them?" Jewels glimmering in the sunlight, Zitao leapt to his feet and grabbed Jongdae by the arm. "Come, I'll show you."

Zitao led Jongdae below deck, his boots clattering as he hurried down the stairs to the bowels of the ship. Drawing a key from amongst his many necklaces, Zitao paused to give Jongdae a conspiratorial smile before unlocking a reinforced door.

Zitao gestured. "The treasure hold."

Jongdae took a cautious step forward, as if afraid the room would evaporate upon his entry. Never could he have imagined the wealth Candour carried. There were piles of chests, some chained together in towering stacks and others haphazardly thrown aside, overflowing with gold bars and coins. Those riches alone would have been enough to leave Jongdae salivating, but then Zitao opened a cabinet and its contents took his breath away. The cabinet was filled with instruments – gold-plated pan pipes, silk-stringed harps, ornate hand drums – all opulent and finely crafted. On prominent display was a magnificent bianqing. Its sixteen chimes, slabs of lucid white jade that seemed to glow in the dim room, hung from a wooden frame intricately carved with soaring phoenixes. Engraved on each jade slab was the chime's tone. Jongdae ran his fingers over the Chinese characters, distant memories swirling on the tip of his tongue.

"This one today?"

Zitao grasped one side of the bianqing's frame. Jongdae took the other end and, to the brief notes of the chimes colliding, they carried the bianqing into the centre of the room. Zitao placed the ivory mallet into Jongdae's hand then sat cross-legged on the floor, his coat splayed around him like a glittering ink puddle. From this position, he looked up at Jongdae, pretty face anticipatory with the wonder of a child.

Jongdae struck a jade chime. The note rang, deeply resonant but short, like its echoes communicated in another dimension. The sound set Jongdae's heart alight and his fingertips tingled.

Spinning the mallet over his hand, he gushed, "I don't quite know the words, but I heard this tune once played by a court musician, although I had to exit before the performance finale because the guards were onto me, so..."

Jongdae stilled, centring himself behind the bianqing. Face serene, with lashes fanning over the crescents of his eyes, he began to play.

Once he had established the haunting melody, Jongdae began to sing, weaving notes and words as he went. Zitao watched, enraptured. Sitting like this, bathed in beautiful sounds, Zitao was transported to a time before, of bright courtyards, childish irreverence, and the security of family. Through the chimes of the bianqing, Zitao caught Jongdae's eyes and felt a yearning.

***

It became a daily routine. After cleaning the dishes from dinner, Jongdae would wait in front of the treasure hold until the Captain arrived to unlock the door with the key around his neck. Then, choosing whatever instrument struck his fancy, Jongdae would play while Zitao watched silently from the floor.

One night, instead of opening the treasure hold, Zitao said, "You don't carry a weapon, do you? It's unacceptable for a pirate to be unarmed."

He summoned Baekhyun to the ship's armoury, a small room with munitions for the cannons and various blades.

"What's your weapon of choice?" Baekhyun asked, unravelling swords from their cloth wrappings, glee bright on his cheeks.

"I usually use knives," Jongdae said. "Good for locks."

"We can train you to use a sword." Baekhyun squeezed Jongdae's biceps. "Gotta use these for something, don't you?"

Surveying the collection, Jongdae chose a pair of steel daggers with gently curved blades and strapped the scabbards to his belt.

"If you do want to learn swordsmanship," Zitao said with a serious expression, "it requires discipline. You can learn to swing a blade, but without the fundamentals..."

Baekhyun rolled his eyes. "You'd think we never left the military. The Captain's not just ex-navy, he's a martial artist. He never shuts up about discipline despite being the most unrestrained person on this ship."

"He's just jealous." Zitao wrapped an arm around Jongdae and swept him out of the room. "You can take lessons from both of us and decide whose instruction you prefer. And it will definitely be mine."

"Don't let him beguile you, Jongdae," Baekhyun called after him.

Laughing, Zitao leant in close enough that his nose almost brushed Jongdae's cheek. Given the delighted yelp Zitao made when Jongdae pinched his chin, Jongdae was quite sure the victim of beguiling would not be himself.

Jongdae was on watch with Jongin that night, so Zitao accompanied him up to the deck. Jongin's head was flicking back and forth between one of his navigational devices and an almanac.

Zitao gestured towards the clear night sky. "What do the stars tell you, Jongin?"

Jongin scowled, "For the last time, Cap, that's not how an astrolabe works."

He launched into an animated demonstration of his navigational tools, flipping through his almanac to show timesheets of the meticulously calculated positions of celestial bodies. Jongdae rested against the deck railing, the whispers of the water in his ears. There was a soothing quality to the sea under the night sky, the moonlight reflecting in shards off the waves.

Zitao yawned. "Yes, that makes perfect sense. I'm going to bed."

Jongin aggressively polished the brass face of his astrolabe, muttering about the captain being a stubborn bastard.

"Hey, Jongin," Jongdae said, "doesn't chasing a myth go against your scientific nature?"

Jongin laughed. "No, that's exactly what science is about – discovery through exploration! The best thing about having Zitao as our captain is that he never lets doubt hold him back. Does the Fountain of Youth exist? Who knows! But if it does and we're able to analyse its waters, think of the implications! We could cure disease, repair trauma, better understand how the human body works..."

Jongdae looked out over the water, smiling at the navigator's enthusiasm. He doubted Zitao's motivations were as humanitarian as Jongin's, but why were the crew so devoted to him? Laying down their life for a man motivated by vanity... He couldn't fathom it.

Don't let him beguile you, Baekhyun had warned. And no matter how charming Zitao was, no matter how sweetly he smiled and dipped his chin when Jongdae touched him, Jongdae would be sure not to let him.

***

The pirate who had almost captured the Fountain of Youth, Yixing, was reported to be staying a day's journey from port. Kyungsoo and Baekhyun remained in the seaside town to guard the ship while the rest of the crew bought horses to travel inland. As Minseok mounted his horse, Zitao rushed to help him, grasping him by the calf to boost him up, much to Minseok's indignation.

Later, on the road, Minseok said, "I might advise again, Captain, that we try to avoid violent confrontation with Yixing."

"It's not my fault we don't get along!" Zitao cried.

"What did you do?" Jongdae asked, struggling to bring his horse level with Zitao's.

Zitao rolled his eyes. "Nothing personal. It's simply a matter of principle. Yixing was part of the anti-pirate coastal guard back when I was a privateer with a government sanction to raid enemy ships. He despised pirates and privateers alike, although he himself turned to piracy after witnessing the political corruption of the military leaders."

Jongin laughed. "Can't blame him. Privateers were rich boys given a free pass by officials."

Zitao tugged the reins, his horse halting with a whinny. "The coastal guard was assembled because pirates were ransacking towns and burning civilians in their homes. I may be a glorified thief, Jongin, but I have always had honour."

Still smiling, Jongin leant over and gave Zitao's horse a slap on the rump. "As have we, Cap, even before you joined our crew." Flicking his hair out of his eyes, he turned to Jongdae. "But what about you? Petty thieves don't have bounties like yours. Who did you murder?"

Jongdae considered before answering. "I'd just broken into a manor and was escaping when the stupid owner decided to chase me up onto the roof. He slipped and fell to his death, but that wasn't how the officials saw it."

"Was it worth it?" Zitao asked. "What you stole?"

"I didn't steal anything. I broke in to play a European harpsichord," Jongdae said, laughing at their stunned faces.

Their destination was a lonely cottage, attended by a small flock of grazing sheep. Zitao rapped on the door and it was answered by a handsome man, much less fearsome than Jongdae had envisioned.

"Yixing!" Zitao spread his arms, but Yixing did not reciprocate his enthusiasm.

"I would be honoured for this visit, Huang Zitao," Yixing said, drawing the door closed, "but I know what you're here for. I don't make deals with pirates."

Zitao stuck a boot into the doorframe and squeezed past Yixing. "You wouldn't happen to have some whiskey, would you?"

Yixing closed his eyes, mouth pursed in suppressed anger.

Minseok approached him in a bow. "We appreciate your hospitality, Captain Zhang."

"No need for forced courtesies," Yixing said, allowing the rest of the crew to enter his home. "We all know that title no longer applies to me."

The cottage was simply furnished, with poems hanging on the walls and a lute leaning against a large bookcase. Zitao was already sitting at the low table, helping himself to tea.

"My condolences, Yixing. I can't imagine how it must feel..." Zitao's face grew sombre, but the expression was quickly veiled. "Well, it doesn't need to be said, but we are seeking a map to the Fountain of Youth."

"I can't help you," Yixing said.

Minseok stepped forward. "We're willing to trade–"

"I've already given the map away." Yixing smiled at Zitao's exasperated groan. "So if you would kindly vacate..."

"Did you give it to Luhan?" Jongdae asked.

Shock struck Yixing and Jongdae knew he was right.

"I heard the dock workers talking about another group of pirates that had been through a couple of days ago," Jongdae said. "It isn't much of a trading port, so I assume the only reason pirates would come by is to see you."

"Would you be amenable to drawing us a replica of the map instead?" Minseok asked. "It would save us capturing Luhan and his crew. He is a friend of yours, after all."

Yixing shrugged. "That's Luhan's concern, not mine. Besides, isn't he your friend too?"

Zitao stood up, stretching his back. "Come, Minseok, let us surrender here. I look forward to a good tussle with old Luhan." He bowed at Yixing. "Thank you for the tea. And I am... sorry... for your loss."

Yixing turned away. "You'd do well to stay away, Zitao. You and your crew will be massacred before you get a taste of that longevity you so selfishly desire."

The crew regrouped on Candour around the navigator's table and shared their news.

"But Luhan could be anywhere," Jongin said, scanning his maps as if they would reveal Luhan's location.

"That won't be a problem." Zitao grinned. "Minseok, do you still have that compass he gave you?"

Years ago, before he'd become a pirate himself, Luhan had been one of the most illustrious merchants, trading both legal and illegal goods to people from all walks of life. Minseok, who had never known anything but piracy, was more than Luhan's favourite client – he was also a close friend, and Luhan had given him a compass that pointed the way to a ring Luhan wore, allowing Minseok to find Luhan anywhere.

After they set sail, Jongdae retreated to the galley to prepare dinner. He distributed the meal to the crew, last of all reaching the Captain's chamber. Knocking and entering, he found Zitao pushing a zither into his cabinet.

"You didn't tell me you played, Captain," Jongdae said. "Do you want lessons?"

Zitao laughed. "I'm composing. I'll play the piece for you when I've completed it."

"May I?" Jongdae asked, and Zitao passed him the zither in exchange for his dinner.

The 25-string zither was lacquered and inlaid with mother-of-pearl in a lotus design, but it was surprisingly simple compared to the lavish instruments in the treasure hold.

"Please be careful," Zitao said, a warning he'd never given despite the value of the instruments Jongdae had previously played. "I've had that since childhood."

Slipping the picks onto his fingers, Jongdae thought of his own childhood, peering through the window to watch his mother play on a similar zither in the main building of her employer's estate. His mother had only taught him to play a seven-string zither before her death, so he had taught himself the variants by breaking into the workshops of instrument crafters.

Jongdae played the song he'd heard his mother perform to the wealthy family. The words came back to him, and he sang:

"The bronze maples weep for a man on the sea,

While the ground swallows echoes of lost company.

Take my clothes and my shoes, my riches and youth,

I won't bury my love. No, not me. Not me."

When he looked up, a tear spilled from Zitao's lashes and ran down his cheek. Jongdae leant over to wipe it, and, eyes closed, Zitao nuzzled into his hand. The zither between them slipped, and, jerking away, Jongdae caught it before it hit the floor. Returning it to the cabinet where a few other basic instruments were stored, Jongdae noticed a wooden box set with an ivory carving of a conch shell. Before he could pick it up, Zitao pulled him backwards.

"Not now," Zitao said, twining an arm around Jongdae's shoulder. "I'll show you one day."

Zitao's hand rested just below his jaw, and Jongdae was overcome by an urge to take Zitao's fingers into his mouth. The downwards motion of his head was interrupted by an empty dinner bowl being shoved into his hands.

"Thanks for the meal," Zitao smiled, returning to his study and leaving Jongdae open-mouthed and hungry.

***

"Ship ahoy!" Jongin hollered from the crow's nest.

As the vessel came into view on the horizon, Zitao observed Luhan's jolly roger, an antlered deer skull, through a brass telescope. Soon Jongdae could make out the seven masts of the huge treasure ship, the sun passing through the red sails so that they glowed like translucent butterfly wings.

"Jongdae, raise the flags in friendly colours then stand ready at the sails," Minseok commanded.

When they were close enough to Luhan's ship, Zitao screamed in a sing-song, "LUHAN!"

Minseok and Jongdae heaved to. Baekhyun, who had taken the helm, spun and lashed the wheel.

A man stood at the edge of the approaching ship's deck, one eye squinted under the shade of his hand as their ships drifted closer together.

"Huang Zitao?" Luhan yelled, then laughed. "Man, you're not seriously trying to take my ship are you?"

It would have been madness to. Luhan's treasure ship dwarfed Candour. Zitao's crew would have been outnumbered and overwhelmed.

"We wish to make a trade," Minseok called. "Will you give us permission to board?"

"Minseok came all this way to see you!" Zitao added.

Luhan's face lit up. "Permission granted! But leave all your weapons behind."

Baekhyun and Kyungsoo, staying on board Candour, lowered the ship's boat to the water and the rest of the crew rowed over and alighted Luhan's ship.

"My old friends!" Luhan cried in welcome, clapping both Zitao and Minseok on their shoulders.

"You've aged," Minseok said, finding amusement in Luhan's offended scoff.

One of Luhan's crew members stepped forward with a bow. "First mate Kim Junmyeon. You said your business with us is trade?"

"Indeed," Minseok said. "Have you obtained a map recently?"

"Ah," Luhan smiled. "What are you offering for it?"

"We're offering three thousand gold bars."

Luhan tilted his head, pretending to consider. "No deal. It's worth much more than that. There's only one thing I'll budge for. I know exactly where it is, but I don't have the means to get it – the Divine Flute. The legends say the East Sea only delivers the Divine Flute to those who play heavenly music. And unfortunately I haven't been able to, ah..."

"You're not good enough?" Zitao said, making Luhan splutter.

"It's not that I'm not good, I just don't play well enough to please the immortals, which isn't much of a shortcoming."

Zitao held out his hand. "Then it's a deal. The flute for the map."

"Captain, please—"

"It's fine, Minseok," Zitao smiled. "We have a musician on the crew. Correct, Jongdae?"

Zitao beamed at Jongdae with such confidence that he almost melted. The captain was pursuing another myth... Only this time he was depending on Jongdae for success.

Do they really believe the sea will spew out a flute at the sound of decent music? Jongdae thought. They're trading fiction for fiction.

Minseok frowned, fingers twitching by an empty belt. "He may be a musician but you can't presume his ability will be sufficient..."

"Consider it done, Captain," Jongdae declared.

Fists clenched, Minseok tilted his chin upwards and glowered at Jongdae through narrowed eyes. If Zitao noticed Minseok's anger, he didn't acknowledge it, shaking hands with Luhan to solidify the deal.

Luhan explained the location of the flute and shared all the knowledge he had gathered about it. Zitao requested proof of the map's existence, and Junmyeon and Luhan began bickering under their breaths while both Luhan's crew and their visitors watched awkwardly, catching snippets like, "Junmyeon, you're making me look uncool." They eventually settled on revealing an inconspicuous corner of the map that Jongin was satisfied with as adequate proof.

As they disembarked, Luhan grasped Minseok's hand. "Let's have a drink together again some day."

Minseok's temper softened at that and he tapped Luhan's silver ring. "I'll know where to find you."

They rowed back to Candour, Zitao chattering about how funny Luhan and Junmyeon were while Minseok sat in silence, his hair damp with sweat and sea spray hanging sharp over his forehead.

While Jongin and Baekhyun greeted the others, Minseok stormed below deck, his wooden leg landing heavily against the timber. Jongdae followed the quartermaster to his cabin, squeezing his way through the door before Minseok could close it. Minseok's chamber was immaculate – the bed neatly made and the books on the shelves standing so straight it was difficult to believe they were on a vessel.

"Leave," Minseok ordered.

"Have some faith in me, okay?" Jongdae said.

Minseok snorted. "Faith in you? When you have no faith in this expedition? You have no idea what this voyage means to Zitao. For all that time you spend with him, you still know nothing about him."

"So you dislike me out of jealousy?"

Minseok sighed. "I don't dislike you, and I'm certainly not jealous. Your hard work has been an asset, but when you're around, Zitao is more unpredictable than usual. That trade he just made... Even if we were able to obtain the Divine Flute, it would be worth far more than a mere map."

"Then why didn't you try harder to object?"

"Because he is, ultimately, my captain," Minseok said. "And because I owe him my life. I previously captained a pirate crew, a crew that Zitao joined when his privateer sanction was revoked. Although I was lucrative, my methods were mostly conservative so I assumed the officials wouldn't bother me. I was wrong. The coastal guard ambushed us while we were careening our ship. Most of the crew were shot down before we even had a chance to react. I lost my leg in that battle, and was a breath away from death when Zitao parried what would have been a finishing blow. Have you seen Zitao fight?"

Jongdae shook his head. "He offered to teach me, but I said I wasn't interested in swordsmanship."

"I once saw a tidal wave obliterate an entire coastal village. That's what Zitao reminded me of. He defeated every single one of our enemies. After the battle, I stepped down from the position of captain and the remaining five of us almost unanimously voted for Zitao to take up the mantle."

Jongdae snorted. "Even Zitao himself?"

"No," Minseok smirked. "He burst into tears and said no one could ever replace me."

Irritation prickled at Jongdae, but then he remembered how Zitao had cried at the sound of his zither and he consoled himself with the knowledge that he too could bring tears to Zitao's eyes.

"So... can you work with me?" Minseok asked.

Jongdae feigned shock. "Against our captain?"

"No, to support him. His passion is overflowing. Sometimes he needs guidance to focus his energy, rather than let it erupt wildly."

Jongdae shrugged. "I'm just a cabin boy."

"Oh, please. You know you mean much more than that to him."

The ship creaked, shifting as the sails were set. Minseok and Jongdae emerged on deck to Zitao throwing orders as he singlehandedly heaved the mizzen sail. He had shucked his coat and his cream shirt hung tight and sweaty against his figure, the lace cuffs spilling delicately against the rawness of his suntanned skin. Jongdae caught his gaze, and time seemed suspended, Zitao's chest caught mid-exhalation, his breath pushing his lips into a delectable pout, and his eyes hazy with exertion. Then Zitao blinked and the moment snapped.

"About time!" Zitao grumbled, but all Jongdae could think was that no tsunami could ever look so beautiful.

***

Jongdae was collecting Zitao's dinner bowl when the captain said, "Run me a bath."

Sprawled lazily over his desk, Zitao looked up at Jongdae as the cabin boy complained that he shouldn't waste water supplies when they didn't know how long it would be until they reached port again.

"I checked the water stores. It should be fine," Zitao said. "Make sure it's warm!"

Hoping Minseok wouldn't chastise him for indulging Zitao and wasting water, Jongdae heated up enough water to fill the small tub in the great cabin. When he was satisfied with the temperature, he called Zitao over.

"Finally," Zitao said, hanging up his coat.

He dipped a finger into the water and nodded, pleased at the temperature, before taking off the rest of his clothes. Beneath the extravagantly tailored clothes, Zitao was surprisingly slim, the lines of his body soft and long. Jongdae wanted to keep staring, savouring every movement of that willowy figure, but he kept discreet, setting out the towel and soap as Zitao sank into the tub.

Zitao smiled up at Jongdae. "You're going to scrub me, right?"

Jongdae's instinct was to protest, but looking down at his captain, vulnerable and enticing with his bare skin and beseeching eyes, the arguments died on his tongue. Pulling up a stool, he took the soap and worked it into a lather, smothering Zitao's back. He massaged the taut muscles, rubbing up to his neck and around his shoulders, feeling the visceral heat of Zitao in his hands.

As Jongdae rinsed off the soap, Zitao asked, "Won't you join me?"

"What, in the tub?" Jongdae laughed. "You can barely fit in there yourself. Besides, when I take a bath, there has to be scented candles."

Zitao leant his head back against Jongdae's arm so that Jongdae could see the amused curl of his lips. "Such a slave to luxury."

Jongdae's hands, velvety with soap, moved to Zitao's front, working in steady circles over his chest.

"What scents?" Zitao murmured, voice low.

"Hm?"

Zitao's heartbeat pounded under Jongdae's fingers, reverberating through his chest like shockwaves through the skin of a drum.

"What scents do you like?"

"Jasmine," Jongdae whispered, pressing closer against Zitao's back, the dampness warm between them. "And sweet scents, like honey."

Jongdae continued massaging, hands moving lower, pressing deeper, drawing a moan from Zitao.

"Like the smell of spring?" Zitao breathed. "Boughs heavy with blossoms, petals falling in pink showers..."

Jongdae saw himself standing on the grey walls of the place where he grew up, letting the wind shake the blossoming peach tree to scatter the petals across his face and outstretched arms as he sang at the top of his lungs. Even his mother's warnings not to disturb the family of the estate couldn't dampen his glee. Childish bliss under a sweet pink spring.

Zitao reached behind him, pulling Jongdae closer, and Jongdae, smelling a sweetness on him, buried his nose into Zitao's neck, chasing it. The floral notes of the soap coalesced with the tang of their building sweat to produce something sour and earthy that Jongdae hungered to consume. Zitao's fist clenched painfully in his hair, and Jongdae kept his hands going, unrelenting, breath hot between lips that buzzed with the vibrations humming in Zitao's throat every time he moaned.

"Join me," Zitao whispered, voice ragged and wanting, and this time Jongdae obliged.

***

Luhan's directions led them to a small cove nestled in the embrace of towering sheer cliffs. They arrived at dusk, carefully steering Candour between the precipitous walls and taking the ship's boat to the shore, the sand cold and grey in the shadows. Beyond lay the black maw of an endless cave. Zitao eyed it warily, his lantern making no dent in the darkness.

"Let's make haste," he said, brushing his fingers over Jongdae's waist.

Here now, with his boots shifting in the sand of a supposedly mystical cove, Jongdae still wasn't sure he believed it. A flute rising from the ocean? It had to be a fairy tale. Under the crew's expectant eyes, Jongdae unwrapped the cloth holding the instruments they'd chosen to bring. While he deliberated, Baekhyun discovered a collection of gelatinous silver orbs nestled in a rockpool and showed them to Zitao, who pocketed them.

Jongdae selected a solid gold flute, one of the most expensive instruments in Candour's collection. Zitao grinned proudly at Jongdae as if there was no doubt in his mind that Jongdae wouldn't be able to summon the flute. Jongdae wondered if the others knew what was going on between him and Zitao, that he now spent their night-time rendezvous discovering all the noises Zitao could make. Minseok more than suspected, and the others had probably sensed the desire radiating off Zitao from the moment Jongdae had stepped foot on their ship. If he failed now, would they ascribe Zitao's confidence in his abilities to a rose-tinted bias? Nervousness crept into his belly, a queasiness that he had never experienced before performing. He had to prove himself, no matter the factuality of the legend.

Facing the gentle waves that undulated against the shore, Jongdae played.

"He's... He's good," Baekhyun said, and Kyungsoo hushed him.

The notes whistled bright and clear, amplified by the curvature of the cliffs, but no Divine Flute arose. Without pausing, Jongdae glanced over at Zitao who made encouraging gestures with his hands. As Jongdae closed his eyes, continuing the folk song, a low rumbling emanated from behind them. The crew turned towards the ominous cave, fingers inching towards their swords. The rumbling grew louder, and Jongdae lowered the flute, about to reach for his daggers when a horde of animals, only visible as shadowed silhouettes, burst out of the cave, their collective clicking and shuffling incessant and overwhelming. There was something unnatural about the way the creatures moved and, as the stampede bore down on them, it became evident – they were spiders, freakishly large, the size of dogs, with pincers gnashing in front of them and domed eyes big enough to reflect the lamplight like unnerving sparks of intelligence.

"Defend!" Zitao yelled as the front line of spiders leapt into the air, pouncing on their prey.

The pirates drew their swords and sliced through the attacking insects, sending spider parts flying. Minseok lunged for a piece of driftwood, pouring lamp oil onto one end. It sprung alight and he brandished it, making the spiders falter as he slashed forward.

Zitao followed suit, shouting, "Keep playing, Jongdae! We'll cover you!"

Panic set Jongdae's fingers flittering faster over the holes as he crouched by the water's edge, eyes peeled desperately for any sign of indication his music was being acknowledged.

"Heavenly!" Baekhyun screamed. "We need it to be heavenly!"

Jongdae tossed the gold flute aside and grabbed a jade chime inscribed with celestial symbols. Striking the chime, he sang a ceremonial ode, trying to block out the hisses and cries behind him. The sea flashed orange with the frantic swings of his crewmates' torches, but the waves kept ebbing, heedless to their crisis.

He turned to them and saw Zitao, face golden in the firelight, ferocity in his snarl as he spun, kicking down one spider with his boot as he slew a second, lopped the limbs off a third, and decapitated a fourth before returning to impale the first through the thorax. The words died on Jongdae's lips as he watched, but Zitao didn't hesitate, immediately whirling around to take out another five spiders. Divine. If there was anything worthy on this shore, it was Zitao.

In the white cloth, Zitao had packed his precious old zither. Jongdae took it, caressing the mother-of-pearl lotus that gleamed like Zitao's earrings, and began to play, bringing to life a melody that he'd been nursing but had kept buried in his heart. The lyrics spilled out like a confession:

"Late night, when even the stars are asleep,

A lonely moon softly to your window sneaks..."

The waves surged, lapping at his feet. Jongdae didn't falter. As the song poured from him, a glow appeared below the distant water, growing brighter as it approached. The surging waves stilled, and Jongdae saw that the source of the underwater light was an eel swimming towards him. When it reached the shallows, the waves swelled, rising in a roar that drowned out Jongdae's singing. The waters receded, and in their crest stood a woman with silver skin and hair that rippled with the sea. In her hands was a flute the colour of violet-tinged seashells, breathtaking in its simplicity. Jongdae plucked the final note, wrung out, exhausted, relieved. The eel-woman held out the flute and Jongdae received it with both hands.

"It was a pleasure," he whispered.

The waves covered the woman as she returned to her eel form, leaving the waters serene in her wake. The tranquility settled in Jongdae, and he faced his crewmates, who were close to defeat, their arms unsteady from swinging torch and sword, but still they fought, determined to protect him. Despite it all, Jongdae smiled as he brought the Divine Flute to his lips.

The music was like nothing Jongdae had ever heard before. It seemed to emanate not just from the flute but from the water, the sand, the clouds, as if Jongdae were using the flute to arrange the vibrations of the world into his melody.

The inner stillness invigorated the pirates, calming their expressions as they attacked with renewed energy. The spiders' hairy bodies contracted as if in fear, and they began scuttling away, retreating to their cave, scrambling over carcasses and goo.

As the last of them cleared from the beach, Jongdae ran to the crew. Behind the bruises and spider grime, they were grinning, awe in their expressions. And Zitao, bright as the sun even on this cold dark beach, pulled Jongdae in, holding him in arms warm enough to set him alight.

***

They were close to port which, given the direction Minseok's compass pointed at, was where they would find Luhan.

It's almost over, Jongdae thought.

He rolled onto his side to watch the man in the bed beside him. Zitao lay on his back, slim enough that his abdomen sunk concave below his ribcage. It was all lithe delicacy, so unlike Jongdae's body, sturdy and giving the impression of solidity.

If this was the last time they docked before heading to the Fountain, it would be Jongdae's last chance to escape.

He ran his fingers over Zitao's hair splayed on the pillow. Honestly, he had never planned on staying this long. The goal had been to get far enough from the authorities to make a run for it and start anew. Reaching the Fountain had never been a consideration. There was no way he'd sacrifice himself for a myth. But now... he had played a supernatural flute from a woman that transformed into an eel. Perhaps...

Zitao stirred, shifting automatically towards Jongdae, curling into a ball and burrowing his head into Jongdae's chest. Jongdae hooked his chin over Zitao's head, embracing him as if Zitao were smaller.

"Why is it so important to you?" Jongdae murmured. "Why are you so desperate to reach the Fountain of Youth?"

Zitao peeled his eyes open and smirked up at Jongdae, before burying his head again. "Guess."

"Selfishness," Jongdae said.

Zitao drew away, unfurling and lying back in his own space, shoulders pressed out, making himself larger again. Through a furrowed brow, he laughed bitterly. Jongdae was uneasy. He'd never drawn such a reaction from Zitao before.

"Selfishness? I guess you could say that..." Zitao stared at the canopy of the bed, profile as severe as a statue. "I don't want to monopolise the Fountain for profit, or to share the secrets of longevity with humanity. Yes, this quest is selfish. I want the Fountain of Youth to heal Minseok. That's all."

Jongdae felt his skin crawl. "Minseok?"

Zitao closed his eyes. "Ultimately, it's selfish."

In the silence, Jongdae watched the rise and fall of Zitao's chest like it was something alien.

I almost died for you, Jongdae thought, and slipped out of bed.

***

"Jongdae, you'll catch your death if you keep sleeping on the open deck!"

Minseok was shaking him awake, and Jongdae blearily got to his feet, his body aching from resting on the hard timber. They stood almost eye to eye, Minseok slightly shorter.

Were you the one he always wanted? Jongdae thought as Minseok rubbed Jongdae's shoulders, attempting to warm him up.

"I'll get started on breakfast," Jongdae said, smiling politely.

"There's no need. We'll be docked within the hour. Zitao wishes to depart as soon as we obtain the map, so the supplies will have to be purchased while our meeting with Luhan is underway. I know it's normally your duty to restock the ship, but in this case, I thought you might like to give Luhan the Divine Flute yourself."

"No, there's no need. I'm more than happy to get supplies by myself," Jongdae said, before assisting the crew in preparations for docking.

When the others departed to meet with Luhan, Jongdae bought the required supplies as instructed and quickly returned to the ship. He dumped the stock on the deck and went below, his mind blank. He was sick of doubts, of the strangeness that had infected his life since joining the crew. It was time to return to the straightforward lifestyle of burglary and playing stolen instruments in empty mansions.

I don't need an audience, he thought, taking out the key he'd stolen from around Zitao's neck and unlocking the treasure hold.

He had planned to take enough gold to live comfortably for a while, but the room made him pause. The cabinet was open, displaying the priceless instruments. This was where Zitao had watched him with eager eyes filled with desire, a gaze Jongdae wouldn't mind having on him forever.

"The money is over here."

Blood curdling, Jongdae whipped around. Zitao brushed past him and knelt in front of one of the chests, opening it and filling two moneybags with gold coins. His face was cold as marble as he put a hand on Jongdae's back, pushing him out of the room. Jongdae stumbled in a trance as Zitao led him off the ship and tossed the moneybags at him.

"Zitao–"

"That money should last long enough for you to lie low until they remove your poster from the bounty board. Or go back to burglary, I don't care. You can't suppress that greed, can you? I knew from our first conversation that this was all you wanted, yet still I hoped... I would never have taken you on if... If it hadn't been you."

Zitao had led Jongdae away from the dock to a side alley in the market. Jongdae stared at the moneybags in his hands. This was what he wanted, right? Money, his life, and his freedom. But why did he feel so numb at the sight of Zitao turning away from him?

"That's all I can give to you. Oh," Zitao stopped to lob something at Jongdae that struck him hard in the chest. He fumbled but managed to catch it. "That should belong to you anyway."

It was the box from the cabinet in Zitao's room. Jongdae brushed his thumbs over the conch shell on the lid. When he looked up to ask Zitao what he meant, the captain was gone. Hands clammy, Jongdae opened the box and almost dropped it.

Nestled in red silk was an ivory ocarina, unmistakable with fine engravings of chrysanthemums and peonies. It was his mother's. He had never collected her belongings after her death. Working far away as an apprentice, it had always been too painful to return to their home on her employer's estate. Which meant...

I would never have taken you on if it hadn't been you.

That day his mother had played the estate owner's heirloom zither... Had the instrument been decorated with a mother-of-pearl lotus? Had there been a boy, both mischievous and bashful, watching among the family?

And suddenly he remembered his mother saying, I've been teaching one of the mistress's little grandsons. He told me he'd secretly watched you singing, and that it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

That pride and sense of security – it was a feeling that had been foreign to him for so long that its recent reintroduction to his life had been disquieting. It was a feeling of coming home.

"Hey, Jongdae, right?"

Jongdae's head snapped up. Luhan stood before him, waving a hand while twirling the Divine Flute.

"Hasn't Zitao departed already? Well, anyway – is this really the Divine Flute? I can't get it to work."

Lingering to stare at his mother's ocarina, Jongdae put the box into his pocket and said. "It's real. I've used its powers."

Luhan passed him the flute. "Show me how you do."

As Jongdae's music resonated, the marketplace fell into a hush, the haggling buyers becoming docile and the loud shopkeepers falling quiet. Luhan's expression grew calm and he reached out to take back the flute but Jongdae held it away from him.

"I can give you lessons," Jongdae said, "but at a price."

Luhan nodded, subdued.

"You have to take me to the Fountain of Youth."

Luhan's eyes boggled. "What? You want me to chase after Zitao? My ship's too slow to catch up."

"But you have oars," Jongdae said. "And with the power of the Divine Flute, your crew is much less likely to tire. Besides, don't you want to learn how to play this?"

Luhan tried to grab the flute again and Jongdae played a trill to settle him.

After some quiet consideration, Luhan gave his salesman smile and said, "It's a deal."

They wasted no time in herding the crew onto Luhan's gigantic treasure ship. With the fog settling over the water, it was unlikely that Zitao would see them following. Being pirates, they had made a copy of the map to the Fountain, and their navigator swiftly prepared a course. Junmyeon grumbled as he allocated rowing shifts, but he was a kind host, ensuring Jongdae was treated like a proper guest.

"Why did you abandon your crew?" Junmyeon asked.

Jongdae shrugged. "I guess I was jealous. Zitao said the sole reason he was seeking the Fountain was for Minseok."

"That's obvious." Luhan laughed at Jongdae's surprised expression. "Don't you know Zitao owes Minseok his life?"

Jongdae frowned. "I heard it was the other way around."

Luhan shook his head. "Minseok wouldn't have needed saving if it weren't for Zitao. Firstly, Minseok took him in when no other pirate wanted an ex-privateer on their crew. Secondly, the only reason why Minseok needed protecting in that ambush is because his leg got sliced off while he was defending Zitao. So it's perfectly natural that Zitao wants to absolve his guilt by restoring Minseok's leg."

"There's nothing more between them?"

"Nothing more." Luhan winked and tapped his button nose. "Trust me, I'd know."

Jongdae ran his fingers over the ocarina box in his pocket. He looked eastward into the fog over the sea and knew the direction home.

***

With the persisting fog, no one saw the island until Candour almost reefed. The crew rapidly heaved to and loosed the anchors. As they rowed to shore, a hulking shadow emerged.

Looking up at the anchored ship, Zitao gasped. "No way..."

"Keep rowing," Minseok ordered. "It's not over yet, Captain."

They pulled the boat onto the rocky shore and continued inland until they were amongst damp greenery. Voices echoed from an outcrop above them. Keeping out of sight, Zitao's crew crept up and peered over the edge, confirming their fears. Standing amongst a crew of at least a hundred was the infamously ruthless pirate captain, Wu Yifan.

Dropping to the grass, Candour's crew huddled together.

"We'll go around them," Zitao hissed. "If we traverse this cliff–"

"Hey there!"

All five heads shot up. A man crouched on the edge of the outcrop, grinning down at them. Zitao's crew leapt up, drawing their swords.

"We've got some visitors, Cap!" the pirate announced, readying his own weapon before jumping down in a tangle of long limbs.

Candour's crew shuffled backwards as the rest of Yifan's pirates joined their mate. The captain strode out from the throng, smirking.

"Nice find, Chanyeol," Yifan said before addressing Zitao. "Are you going to clear off yourselves or will we have to make you?"

The challenge made Zitao sneer, "Fight me."

On Yifan's order, his crew rushed forward. The unskilled swordsmen were at the front of the pack, and Zitao's crew dispensed of them quickly, trying to reduce the overwhelming number of pirates. As swords clashed, Baekhyun slipped out of the fray, finding a vantage point on the rocks and shooting down enemies with his musket.

As Zitao felled another two pirates, Yifan engaged his fellow captain, catching Zitao's blade with a flurry of sparks.

"You'd need a miracle to win, Prince," Yifan taunted.

I had one, Zitao thought, and his footing faltered, Yifan's swing catching him off-balance. He stumbled backwards, parrying but unable to get in a riposte. His heel hit the edge of a sharp drop and, just as it seemed that he would tumble to his death under the barrage of Yifan's attacks, the ferocious head of a colossal viper reared up beside them and both men jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the snake's lunging jaws.

Yifan sprang up, ready to duel Zitao, but the snake had other ideas, attacking with hideous fangs bared. As Yifan slashed his blade at it, the snake writhed away to focus on Zitao. Their duel momentarily forgotten, the pirates were preoccupied battling the snake. At least eight aggressive vipers had attacked their crewmates, and already one of Yifan's crew had been devoured.

Finally, Yifan managed to decapitate the viper, and he let out a triumphant roar, brandishing his bloody blade. But as Zitao watched, the snake's neck twitched, and from the stump something fleshy began to bulge. The convulsions intensified, and a new head erupted, fangs gnashing.

"Behind you!" Zitao yelled, hacking at the snake as Yifan barely dove away in time.

Someone shrieked and Yifan bellowed, "Sehun"

A young man collapsed to the ground, clutching a bloody leg, the flesh already blackening around two gaping fang wounds. He had been poisoned. As the viper raised its head for the killing strike, Minseok sliced upwards, severing its head.

"We must retreat, Captain!" Minseok cried, turning his back on the headless snake.

"They recover!" Zitao screamed, frantically fighting his viper while trying to get to Minseok. "Minseok, look out!"

In one fluid movement, the viper, head regenerated, pounced on Minseok, sinking its fangs into his shoulder. The quartermaster’s face drained of colour, but still he managed to squirm and behead the thing before passing out, black blood soaking his shirt.

As Minseok's skin turned blue, Zitao knew nothing would wash away this guilt.

***

"Ah," Luhan said at the sight of Yifan's anchored ship, "Yixing must have sold another copy of the map."

"I'd expect nothing less from pirates," Jongdae huffed between strokes of the oars.

Before Jongdae disembarked onto the island's shore, Luhan handed him the Divine Flute.

"Take it," the captain said. "You're a good teacher, but I'll never be able to play this. It only works for you."

Jongdae ran his hands over the cool material. "I owe you a lot."

"And I'll be sure to collect on that debt," Luhan laughed, then wiggled an eyebrow. "You and Zitao are an item, right? Tell him to watch his assets."

Jongdae kicked the boat off, sending Luhan on his way back to his ship, and began trekking inland. Soon, he heard a cacophony of shouts and he broke into a run, almost tripping over the body of a snake as he entered the battleground. Stunned by the carnage, he watched Kyungsoo, Jongin and Baekhyun slay vipers only to have them writhe back to life again. Zitao was howling, crouched over Minseok's blood-covered body as an imposing pirate fought a snake above him.

From his vantage point, he realised something – none of the snakes had a tail. Their giant bodies were half obscured by rocks or foliage and Jongdae suspected that the reason they weren't dying was because their vital organs remained protected. They would have to be coaxed out of hiding.

Jongdae took out his Divine Flute and played, the wind stirring sweeter as if cleansing the mist of blood from the air. Zitao stood, the tears bright on his face but his expression resolute and slightly in awe. The snakes swayed dazedly, then slunk forward. The pirates clambered out of their path as the vipers slithered towards Jongdae, who steeled his nerves and kept playing. A thunderous cracking sounded, and the ground burst open, sending rocks and grass flying, revealing an enormous, grotesque body from which all the heads arose.

Zitao caught Jongdae's eye and winked before launching into the air, his cloak billowing as he swung his sabre straight through the monster's bulging middle. The snake heads let out a collective hiss and the remaining pirates sliced them off. The snake's carcass lay dripping in blood, unmoving.

Wiping the grime and tears off his face, Zitao ran to Jongdae, wrapping him in an embrace. Jongdae felt Zitao's whole body shuddering, but there was no time to comfort him.

"We can save Minseok," Jongdae said, praying he wasn't inciting a false hope. "We have to get to the Fountain."

They ran off, sprinting through the island. The map led them to a rocky cave, and they navigated through the twisting channels, heading upwards until they emerged into sunlight. In the centre of the space was a delicate stack of smooth rocks, topped with a wide stone dish. A steady stream of water poured from the foggy sky into the dish, which overflowed into a pristine white pool.

Behind them, footsteps echoed. They wouldn't be alone for long. Zitao slipped his hand into Jongdae's as they approached the Fountain. As they stepped into the light, two figures appeared, blocking their path with crossed spears. Cold blades pressed against their throats.

"This is a sacred place," one of the guardians said. "What is your purpose here?"

"Our friend is dying," Zitao said, tears welling in his eyes. "Please, can you spare some of the Fountain's water to save him?"

Behind them, Yifan burst into the courtyard, and he too was held at knifepoint.

"You invade our land and slay our protector," the guardian said, "yet you still demand charity from us?"

Zitao lifted his chin. "Not charity. A trade."

With one hand raised in surrender, he slowly reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew the collection of silver orbs that Baekhyun had found in the cove.

"These are the eggs of a giant arachnid that guards the instruments of immortals. I believe you will find it a suitable replacement for your protector."

The guardians consulted each other, one taking an orb from Zitao to more closely inspect the egg. The baby spider pushed against the silver membrane, almost ready to hatch.

"This is indeed a child of the Spider Queen," the guardian said. "Moved by your distress and your offer, we agree to trade for one cup of our Fountain's water. But a condition: upon leaving this place, you must do your utmost to prevent intruders from returning here. We are tired of our land being desecrated by invaders. Can you do this?"

Zitao nodded. "I will, to the best of my ability."

Satisfied, one of the guardians took the eggs from Zitao while another filled a glass from the Fountain. The guardians escorted the three pirates back through the cave to the base of the peak, where they handed the glass to Zitao.

"Do not forget your oath," they said, and Zitao gave his word.

Tugging Jongdae's wrist, Zitao began running as Yifan followed close behind.

"Zitao!" Yifan shouted. "I need that water!"

"Ignore him," Zitao muttered to Jongdae.

Back by the body of the snake, Yifan's pirates tended to their injured crewmate, Sehun, while Jongin, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo hovered around Minseok, taking turns pumping his chest in an effort to keep the blood flowing.

As Zitao ran towards them, Yifan dashed beside him, drawing his sword and holding it like a barrier in front of Zitao's neck. Zitao's crew made to stand from Minseok's side, but Yifan's pirates already had their weapons pointed at them.

"Do you have a scrap of humanity in your vain little head?" Yifan snarled.

Zitao scowled, his expression was more annoyed than alarmed by the blade. "Throwing insults? Do you really think your ego can withstand retaliation?"

Yifan’s eyes narrowed, thick brows lowering. "I've been commissioned by a group of independent scholars to retrieve the Fountain's waters for their study. They plan to distill it to concoct cures for diseases, to save countless lives."

Zitao scoffed. "Nice ploy."

"I'm not bluffing," Yifan said, and pulled a document from inside his coat.

Jongin peered at the paper. "I've heard of those scholars and their work. They do commission pirates. I'd always hoped they would recruit me..."

"Even your crew knows the truth," Yifan declared.

Zitao was trembling, his eyes flitting between the letter's red seal and Minseok's pale bloody face. Rubbing Zitao's back, Jongdae stood forward with his shoulders set to maximise his solid frame.

"You can spare Minseok a sip of water," Jongdae said, "and I'm sure you want the same for your own crewmate."

Yifan cast a concerned glance at Sehun, who obviously meant much more to him than the other dead members of his crew.

"Fine," Yifan grumbled, lowering his sword, and Zitao rushed to Minseok's side.

Minseok's breath was faint against his cheek, but its presence made Zitao sob in relief. Cradling Minseok's head, Zitao tipped the water into his mouth, holding his jaw shut until he saw Minseok's throat move. As the elixir entered his bloodstream, the blackened flesh around the snakebite turned pink again, leaving two neat puncture holes, and the colour spread throughout his body until Minseok was coughing and gasping for breath in Zitao's arms. Zitao wailed and hugged Minseok tightly, while Yifan swooped in to scoop up the cup of the Fountain's water.

"The second time you've saved me," Minseok croaked, flashing his crooked smile.

"It's all my fault," Zitao sobbed. "I almost lost you again. I made everyone go through hell and you still don't have your leg back."

Minseok's wooden leg was visible through the torn leg of his pants and he gave a weak laugh at the sight. "All this for my leg? I've long gotten over it."

"I... I wanted to repay everything you've done for me," Zitao murmured.

With Zitao's assistance, Minseok got shakily to his feet. "We will have no more talk of debts between us, Zitao. It's in the code, remember? All loot found belongs to the whole crew. We share everything."

Sniffling, Zitao hugged Minseok, then broke away to frantically grab Jongin.

"You should go with them!" Zitao said to Jongin, pointing at Yifan's retreating crew, the pirate captain supporting Sehun on his shoulder. "It's your opportunity to join those scholars and conduct those experiments you always dreamed of."

"What?" Jongin wrestled out of Zitao's grasp. "Are you daft, Cap? You really think I'd ditch this crew to join some research group? There's no way I'd leave behind this family."

So that's it, Jongdae realised, his spirit at ease. Family.

As Jongin and Zitao whined playfully at each other, Jongdae and Minseok shared a smirk of mutual understanding, and Jongdae knew exactly why Zitao loved this man so much.

The crew made their way back to the shore, Zitao and Jongdae lagging behind the others. The sun was setting behind the fog, painting the clouds a rosy blush over the rustling sea.

"When we get back to port, I'd like to give you my zither, the one I played as a child during your mother's lessons," Zitao said, eyes downcast so that his lashes reflected the pink light of the sky. "And the money I gave you was in no way sufficient, so I'll give you a chest of gold and some means of contacting me should you find yourself in need–"

Jongdae waved his arms. "Wait, Zitao, what are you saying?"

Zitao faced him, eyes wet and nose red. "I can find you a nice house somewhere too..."

Jongdae burst into laughter. "Zitao, I wouldn't have bargained with Luhan if I wasn't planning on coming back for good. I may have previously been intending to leave, but it's impossible for me to go now. You, this crew, and Candour – that's all the home I need."

Wiping away his tears, Zitao giggled and kissed Jongdae.

"Besides," Jongdae squeezed Zitao's fingers, "I still haven't heard your composition."

Zitao blushed. "You were my inspiration of sorts."

"And you were mine," Jongdae breathed, taking out his mother's ocarina to play a song, the lyrics of which Zitao had somehow memorised even while battling spiders.

In the hazy peach sunset, amidst his family, Zitao sang:

"Late night, when even the stars are asleep,

A lonely moon softly to your window sneaks..."