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Mingi doesn't think anything of it when Hongjoong asks to talk with him in his quarters after dinner. He assumes it’s something about the stores, or how they’re doing on supplies and readily agrees.
It’s only when he steps into the captain’s quarters that he realizes something is up.
Hongjoong is there of course, sitting at the desk. Seonghwa is standing behind him, leaning over the back of the chair to see what he’s working on. This is all normal and expected; what takes Mingi by surprise is the fact that San is here too.
The mer is standing near the door, and he flashes Mingi a broad smile when they make eye contact. That helps to ease the sudden nervousness he’s feeling, but it doesn’t entirely banish it.
“Is this about the stores?” he asks, gaze flickering quickly between San, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa.
Something that looks a lot like regret flashes across Hongjoong’s face.
“No, it’s not,” he says gently. “This is something else.”
Mingi swallows hard, trying and failing to keep from twisting his hands together nervously.
“It’s nothing bad,” Hongjoong is quick to tell him. “Just something different that I would prefer to tell you in private rather than in front of the rest of the crew.”
Not trusting his voice right now, Mingi just nods. Taking this as a positive sign, Hongjoong glances over his shoulder.
“Take it away, love,” he says with a slight smile.
Seonghwa smiles back at him, the expression still in place by the time he straightens up and looks at Mingi.
“Do you remember that old mer lady?” he asks. “The one who held on to your arm and wouldn’t let go?”
“Y-yeah,” Mingi tells him. “I remember. San came with me to talk to her.”
He glances over quickly, needing some kind of reassurance from the mer. San is thankfully quick to nod, at both Mingi and Seonghwa.
“That’s right,” the older mer continues. “She said some things to San then, some things we think you should know.”
He pauses for a second, and Mingi is sure he’s going to explode. He’ll go up in flames if he has to wait another moment, the fear finally igniting until there’s nothing left.
Seonghwa squares his shoulders, opening his mouth again.
“She said you’re a witch.”
Mingi blinks at him in wide-eyed confusion because of all the things he expected or imagined he’d hear, that definitely wasn’t on the list.
“A witch?” he says after a long moment of blank stares. “What does that even mean?”
In front of him, Seonghwa and San exchanged a look.
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Seonghwa admits. “But the energy in the ocean sometimes builds up so much that it gets released all at once into a person. Those people get to use that energy, and we call them witches.”
Mingi laughs at that, a frantic thing that could barely be called a laugh.
“I don’t know what that is,” he tells Seonghwa. “But I’m definitely not one. I don’t have any kind of extra energy or anything like that; you’ve got the wrong person. Maybe she was talking about someone else-”
“Mingi.”
Hongjoong doesn’t even have to raise his voice; Mingi immediately falls silent, mouth snapping shut.
“We’re not mad at you or trying to blame you for anything,” he continues, his good eye burning into the boatswain. “We just wanted to tell you because it doesn’t seem like you know either.”
Here at last is some kind of sense. If Mingi really is a witch, he certainly didn’t know about it before now.
“If I am a witch,” he says slowly. “How does she know?”
“She’s trained to be able to tell this sort of thing,” San says, his expression open and reassuring when Mingi turns to look at him. “She’s good at this, and she said you’re easily one of the most powerful witches she’s ever met.”
Mingi just kind of blinks at that. He doesn't even know what this really means, much less that he’s a powerful one.
“We know this is a lot,” Hongjoong says after another long moment of silence. “We just wanted to let you know so you can think about it, okay?”
Mingi finds himself nodding without even thinking, his head moving on it’s own.
“If you have questions, please don’t hesitate to come and ask,” Seonghwa adds softly, putting a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “San and I can tell you everything we know.”
“Okay,” Mingi manages to say, not entirely sure how to deal with any of this.
He finally settles on just heading out the door, murmuring some kind of good night in response to the ones said to him.
San doesn’t follow him into the hallway immediately, and Mingi knows they’re going to talk about him when the door closes behind him. That idea would normally cause him any amount of turmoil, but it doesn’t right now.
He wanders off down the hallway in a daze, finally ending up in the crew quarters. He’s more than happy to crawl into bed and tug the blanket up over his head.
Sleep is much less complicated than whatever this witch business is, and he quickly falls asleep.
-
“Did we freak him out too much?”
“I don’t think so. It’s a lot to take.”
“I just hope she’s right. I’d hate for this to all be a lie or something.”
“I’d be willing to bet it’s not. There’s a reason he wasn’t affected by the gwishin spell; if not this then what?”
“You’re right.”
“Well, I’m going to bed. Good night.”
“Good night.”
“Sleep well.”
__
__
“He’s probably so freaked out right now.”
“It’ll be okay. We’ll talk about it in the morning. San and I can answer any questions he has. We’ll figure this out.”
__
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure. Now come to bed.”
-
Mingi manages to get through most of breakfast convincing himself the discussion last night was just a dream. It’s only the worried looks all three mers keep shooting him that burst his happy little bubble.
Thankfully none of them say anything, but Mingi knows this means it was all real.
He still doesn’t know exactly what to think of any of this. He doesn’t even know what a witch is, much less how to think about the fact that he may be one.
This is all a lot.
Breakfast wraps up as usual, with Yeosang leaving the table first to head to bed after a night of steering. Hongjoong leaves after him to take the wheel, kissing Seonghwa before he goes.
The rest trickle out in ones and twos, off to do their usual tasks. Mingi knows it’s for his benefit that Seonghwa announces he’ll be doing some cleaning in the captain’s cabin if anyone needs him.
He puts his bowl in the basin after rinsing it, exchanging a few words with Wooyoung while trying to ignore the way San keeps looking at him. It’s clear that Wooyoung can tell something is up, but he doesn't ask outright.
Mingi walks out of the kitchen knowing that the cook will be asking San the second he’s far enough down the hallway to not be able to hear him. The knowledge that people are talking about him isn’t anywhere nearly as concerning as it should be, and he feels strangely numb as he walks down the corridor.
Seonghwa is calling for him to come in almost the second he raps on the door, and Mingi obeys. The mer is sifting through the stacks of papers on the desk, frowning as he holds one up.
“I can never tell if these are important or not,” he complains generally. “Do these little marks mean anything?”
He holds the paper out so Mingi can take it, and the boatswain steps forward to do so.
“Um, yeah,” Mingi says after a moment. “You mean the writing, right?”
Seonghwa shrugs.
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
Mingi blinks at him for a moment, finally remembering that Seonghwa can’t read. He manages to forget every time, which means they get to have this kind of exchange at least once a month.
“I know it’s not a map,” the mer continues. “Those have more squiggly lines and sometimes pictures. That one doesn’t so I’m not sure.”
“This is a list of supplies I think,” Mingi says, squinting at the paper. Hongjoong’s handwriting is hard to make out on a good day; this note looks like it was written upside down in the middle of a storm.
“Ah, so probably important,” Seonghwa sighs, taking the paper back.
He puts it back in the stack on the desk, having to settle for simply straightening them all out. Mingi watches him, managing to forget why he’s here in the first place.
“So, how’re you feeling?”
The question is careful, and Mingi immediately looks from Seonghwa’s hands to his face. The mer is already watching him, the concern barely hidden in his eyes.
“Weird,” Mingi answers honestly. “None of this feels real?”
Seonghwa makes an understanding noise, straightening a few more papers.
“Would you like to hear one of my favorite stories growing up?” he asks after a while. “It’s about a witch, and might help make this feel a bit more real.”
Mingi is nodding eagerly even before he finishes talking. He loves stories, and he’ll take any chance to hear one. If it has to be about a witch, oh well.
Seonghwa smiles at his eagerness, his face softening.
“Why don’t you go sit on the bed?” he suggests. “It’s better to listen from somewhere comfortable.”
Mingi couldn’t agree more, and he quickly hurries over to sit carefully on the bed. He knows Seonghwa is particular about this kind of thing, so he does his best to sit as lightly as possible to not wrinkle anything.
“Heurim used to tell San and I this story,” Seonghwa says easily. “We were really little but this was always my favorite. It goes like this…”
-
Many tides ago, there lived a young mer. Her name has since been forgotten by time, but we tell her story now.
She lived in a small citadel, and was the daughter of one of the guards. She was an adventurous child, and liked to explore and play far from the citadel.
One day she was doing just that when she discovered a deep trench that was new. She was sure it hadn’t been there the last time she was here, and so she carefully got closer to investigate.
As she leaned over the edge of the trench, she could almost hear what sounded like voices. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, the whispers just on the edge of her hearing. She could tell they were coming from inside the trench, and she listened even harder.
Still unable to figure out what the voices were saying, she leaned even further forward until her whole head and shoulders were hanging over the trench.
Out of nowhere, she felt a sudden blast of warm water and bubbles, coming from the trench. She gasped, not having expected it.
The bubbles and warm water continued for several minutes, and she didn’t move to get her head out of the stream. The water felt nice, and the bubbles tickled her skin as they rushed past.
The stream eventually slowed, but she still didn’t move. She could understand the voices now, and they were whispering so many things to her.
She didn’t understand everything they were saying, but she knew somehow that she would one day. The voices told her about the past, the present, the future, and something even past the future that she knew she wouldn’t ever fully understand.
By the time she finally swam away from the edge of the trench, she knew things had changed. The ocean had chosen her, and when she told her parents they said she was blessed by the Goddess.
The voices guided and directed her, and she learned over time how to figure out which voices to listen to. The people of the citadel she lived in soon came to her when they had questions or needed guidance. She always had an answer, even if it wasn’t always what the seeker wanted to hear.
Over time she grew to be respected across many territories, her name well known and her knowledge valued. Lords came from far and wide to ask her for guidance, and she always helped those who came to her.
Some say that even the fish and whales came to her, telling her secrets they heard or asking for help. She could understand them, and helped them as well.
Still others say it was her who defeated the gwishin queen by whispering a few words into her ear that drove her insane. The queen vanished into the depths, taking the largest of her court with her.
By now the witch was old and bent, her hair and tail faded to grey and white. It’s said she cried for the gwishin queen, saying it was the end of a reign and the beginning of the end.
This caused no end of alarm with the armies gathered at that place, and soon rumors raced through the camps of the world’s end and the death of the moon. Those rumors were only stopped by the words of the old witch, who simply said the tides still rolled and the moon still lived.
The night after she said these words, she was seen by a lone sentry, swimming for the same depths the queen disappeared in. They called out, but she didn’t pause or even turn her head.
She was never seen after that, but people say you can still hear her and what remains of her voices in the way bubbles talk to each other, or the murmur of a pod of whales.
-
The spell of Seonghwa’s words seems to linger for a long moment after he finishes speaking, and Mingi almost has to shake himself awake.
“That was your favorite?” he asks slowly.
The mer nods, smiling.
“Why?”
“I liked the idea of the witch crying at the death of a great old monster,” he says after a moment of consideration. “Gwishin are terrifying in most stories, but they’re just sad in this one.”
Mingi can understand that; he’s not a fan of scary stories at all. He wouldn’t say this is his favorite story, but it is something to think about.
“So witches can hear voices?” he asks after another moment. “And tell the future?”
“Some can,” Seonghwa tells him, turning away from him to adjust a few books on a shelf. “I think every witch is different though.”
It’s quiet for several more minutes, the sounds of someone talking seeping in from the hallway. Mingi turns the story over in his head, trying to make sense of it.
“Why would the ocean choose me?”
Seonghwa stops moving at that, slowly turning to make eye contact. There’s something soft in his expression, something understanding.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “She doesn’t often make sense to us but that’s okay. Maybe there wasn’t a reason; maybe you were just there at the right time.”
The words seem to linger in the air, and Mingi wonders how long it will take for them to sink in. He wonders when any of this will seem real, or if it ever will.
Maybe, he thinks after a long time sitting there, he doesn’t have to know now. Maybe it’s okay to just deal with the here and now, to figure out if he really does have some kind of special powers.
Maybe it’ll all make sense in time, like the witch’s voices in Seonghwa’s story.
-
He dreams of the old house on main street that night, of his mother sitting in her usual place in the front room.
He’s wearing his everyday clothes, and the house is weird to see from an adult’s perspective. He steps into the room carefully, feeling curiously out of place.
His mother looks up, a soft smile crossing her face when she sees him.
“Mingi,” she says warmly. “Come sit next to me.”
He obeys, sinking down into the chair beside hers. She’s working on some mending, and as usual Mingi can’t look away from the mesmerizing quality of her needlework.
“They think I’m a witch.”
She doesn’t stop moving, just humming in acknowledgement.
“Am I?” he asks.
“I can’t tell you that,” she tells him. “But I think you already know the answer.”
Mingi swallows hard, fighting down the lump now rising in his throat.
“What if I’m scared? What if I don’t know what this means or how it will change things?”
His mother stops sewing then, sticking the needle in place before turning to really look at him.
People always told him he looked like her, and right now it’s almost like looking in a mirror. Her face is softer and aged, but their eyes are the same.
“You’re always going to be scared,” she tells him. “And it will take time to figure out what this means, but you’ll do it. And as for it changing things; Mingi, they’re not going to love you any less.”
“A-are you sure?”
She smiles then, a broad genuine one that lights up her whole face.
“No,” she laughs. “But you are.”
-
Mingi does a lot of thinking over the next several days.
He spends hours in the hold, staring at the barrels he’s supposed to be counting. He watches the waves, then the sky.
He goes to ask Seonghwa for more stories once, and ends up sitting in the cabin for hours. The mer knows so many stories that involve witches, and he’s more than happy to tell every single one if it’ll ease Mingi’s mind.
When he’s exhausted Seonghwa’s memory, he goes to ask Wooyoung.
The cook tells him a few tales, mostly a mix of rumor and story he’d picked up at one point or another.
Mingi can’t help but notice a much darker undercurrent to his stories. It seems that witches are the villains to humans, existing to hinder the hero or hurl curses at enemies. The opposite couldn’t be more true to mers, who view witches as wise and heroic figures.
It doesn’t take long to realize Mingi much prefers the mer perspective of things.
Three days after he’s first told, Mingi finds himself sitting on the deck with San. It’s evening, and the two of them are both contentedly watching the sun set in a glorious blaze of purple and red.
“What’s the next step?” Mingi asks out of the blue. “With me being a witch and all.”
He can feel San turning to look at him, but he doesn’t dare take his eyes off the sky.
“Well, you can start training,” San says slowly. “Sangnyeon would be able to teach you what she knows.”
Mingi nods. Sangyeon is the old mer lady who started this whole thing; she’s been working with Seonghwa, San, and Hongjoong for maybe a month now.
“Would that work if I can’t get in the water?”
“I think so,” San tells him. “She’d be willing to come aboard for you.”
Mingi doesn’t quite know how to feel about that, so he does his best to ignore it.
“Okay,” he says after a moment. “I’d like to try that then.”
“Nice,” San says happily. “I think it’ll be good for you.”
Mingi finds he’s beginning to think so too.
-
Training with Sangnyeon is hard.
The old mer lady is stubborn, short sighted, and even shorter tempered. Mingi gets the sense she’s regularly cursing him out in mer, frustration evident in her tone.
Thankfully, he can understand very little of what she’s saying. That burden falls on whoever is translating for him; usually Seonghwa.
“She says try again,” the mer tells him after what has to be at least five minutes of Sangnyeon grumbles.
Mingi flashes him a grateful smile before focusing on the bucket in front of him again.
The bucket is half filled with water, and there’s a small fish floating in it. Mingi is supposed to be working on communicating with sea creatures, starting with this poor fish.
It’s not going great.
So far Mingi seems to be best at what Sangnyeon calls premonition. He can tell when events are coming or things are about to change, and that tends to show up in the form of physical anxiety for him. Sangnyeon starts off each visit by asking him how he’s feeling, eyeing him sharply as he stammers through his answers.
According to her, premonition is only the start. He’ll be able to gain clearer insight into what’s coming over time, with practice. There are many other skills he needs to develop, including talking to creatures.
Mingi squares his shoulders, trying to imagine what the fish’s thoughts would sound like. He imagines very small and quiet thoughts, mostly about water and maybe the bucket.
It’s mostly a pointless exercise. He can’t hear the fish; he hasn’t been able to even once this whole session. But Sangnyeon is watching, and Mingi really doesn’t want Seonghwa to get yelled at on his behalf again.
He squints and imagines at the fish for about five minutes, until Sangnyeon lets out a heavy sigh.
Mingi looks up at that, watching as she mutters something under her breath before turning to Seonghwa and launching into a whole speech.
Familiar at this point with how she talks, Mingi doesn't think this is a tirade. She seems to be imparting instructions, meaning this session is probably wrapping up.
“Sorry,” Mingi whispers to the fish. He then stands, picking up the bucket and approaching the crate Sangnyeon is enthroned on.
He waits until she’s finished talking to hold out the bucket, bowing as deeply as he can.
The elderly mer says something, and Mingi waits for Seonghwa to offer the translation.
“She says to keep it, Mingi,” he relays. “You’re supposed to use the fish to practice.”
Mingi straightens up at that, eyeing the poor fish. Looks like they’ll be stuck with each other for the next few weeks.
“Tell her thank you,” Mingi asks. “And that I hope she has a safe journey back down?”
“I will,” Seonghwa assures him before turning back to Sangnyeon.
Mingi watches as he begins to escort her over to the railing, talking the whole way.
She is soon back in the ocean, dropping below the waves without a backward glance. It’s getting late in the day now; Mingi knows it’ll soon be time for dinner.
“Better find somewhere safe for your friend,” Seonghwa tells him as he crosses the deck back towards Mingi. “Wouldn’t want him to end up in Wooyoung’s stew.”
Mingi grimaces at that. The fish definitely doesn’t deserve that.
“I might leave him in the infirmary,” he thinks out loud. “Yunho would probably say yes.”
Seonghwa shrugs, admitting this is probably true.
The two begin to walk towards the stairs leading below decks, their pace measured.
“Are we going to be sailing all night?”
“That’s the plan,” Seonghwa answers. “Joong wants to weigh anchor after dinner.”
Mingi nods, having expected as much. They’re planning to head to port, needing a restock of their stores. The freshwater has been a bit too low for comfort for several days now, and they definitely need this.
“At least it’ll be a quick voyage,” Mingi says offhandedly. “If the winds are good, maybe three days.”
“We can hope,” Seonghwa tells him. “But it’s never that easy.”
-
Looking back, Seonghwa’s words were what caused his first pang of worry. At the time though, Mingi barely even noticed.
Yunho quickly agreed to let him keep the fish and bucket in the infirmary, and Mingi began spending large amounts of time in the room. They set sail as planned, and are soon making good time.
Practicing in the infirmary is nice; Mingi enjoys the chance to exist around Yunho. The first mate is a soothing presence, and is great to complain to
“I just want this to work,” Mingi groans at one point, seconds away from banging his head against the side of the bucket.
The fish just stares up at him from inside it, looking distinctly unimpressed.
“You’ll get it,” Yunho says easily from the chair he’s sitting in across the room. He’s reading some medical textbook, the occasional sound of a page turning breaking up the silence.
“Easy for you to say,” Mingi huffs with no real annoyance. “You don’t have to get eyeballed by a fish smaller than your fist.”
“Be nice to him,” Yunho scolds. “He’s just looking at you.”
Mingi pouts at that, sticking his tongue out at the fish after a minute.
It doesn’t react or say anything judgmental where Mingi can hear, much to his disappointment.
This continues for most of the day, until Mingi is ready to jump overboard with the fish; anything to escape the frustration and the growing sense that he’s never going to get this.
Dinner is barely a relief from the stress, and Mingi couldn’t repeat any of the conversation. He decides to go to bed early, collapsing into bed as dramatically as he can manage.
He falls asleep quickly, right into a nightmare. He can’t even describe it when he wakes up, and is only left with a vaguely foreboding feeling that doesn’t disperse as time passes.
Mingi lays there in bed for a long time, trying to figure out if this is a premonition or just standard anxiety. He finally decides it’s better to be safe than sorry, and so climbs out of bed reluctantly.
He apparently didn’t sleep for long; Hongjoong is still steering when he gets to the deck. Mingi is fighting the deja vu as he climbs the steps to the wheelhouse, reminded of his botched warning attempt before the gwishin encounter.
Hongjoong smiles when he sees Mingi, features lit by a lantern this time. The moon is barely a sliver, and he needs the extra light to check their bearings.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he murmurs, earning a smile from Mingi.
“I think something is coming,” the boatswain blurts. He doesn’t know how to bring this up subtly, but Hongjoong doesn’t even bat an eye.
“Any idea what?”
“No,” Mingi admits. “Sangnyeon says I suck fish ass at that.”
Hongjoong lets out a surprised shout of laughter, clearly not having expected that.
“She said that?” he asks, eye wide.
“According to San,” Mingi nods. “Seonghwa won’t translate her rants but he does.”
“That sounds about right,” Hongjoong chuckles. “Well, if you get any more glimmers or whatever it is, let me know.”
“I will,” Mingi promises quickly. “You’ll be the first to know.”
Hongjoong laughs at that, his expression entirely fond.
“I appreciate that,” he says. “You should try to get some more sleep; it’s almost time for me to turn in too.”
Mingi nods, trying to stifle a yawn that suddenly springs up. Hongjoong smiles, shooing him to bed with one hand.
Thankfully, Mingi falls back asleep quickly.
-
The sense of foreboding only increases, and Mingi watches with concern as the wind stills and the sky steadily darkens. Hongjoong shares what Mingi said with the rest of the crew, warning everyone to be ready for whatever it is.
The weather gets worse and worse, finally breaking into sheets of rain, thunder, and lighting that rock the ship on her anchor and threatens to rip the sails to shreds.
Mingi helps tie everything down and clear the decks, then secure the sails. He’s soon soaked to the skin, unable to stop shivering no matter how close he gets to the stove.
“Th-thanks,” he stammers when Yeosang drapes a fur over his shoulders, receiving a nod from the navigator in return.
The fur eases most of his shivering, and he is soon inviting Yunho to come and share it with him. The first mate has just returned from the deck, and is soon seeping cold back into Mingi’s skin under the fur.
It doesn’t matter though. Mingi stays right where he is.
“This one’s a real bastard,” Wooyoung mutters when the windows rattle from the latest roll of thunder, momentarily drowning out the incessant patter of rain on the panes.
“You can say that again,” Jongho says from where he’s standing with an arm around Yeosang’s shoulders.
They’re all going to be holed up in the kitchen for the foreseeable future, taking turns around the stove to warm up before going back out. Hongjoong is up at the helm right now, with San helping hold the wheel steady.
Seonghwa is standing closest to the door, looking as worried as Mingi feels. He’s pacing as well as he can, and is almost definitely muttering to himself in mer.
“Hwa, come closer to the stove,” Wooyoung suggests. “Try to warm up before it’s time to switch.”
“I’m fine,” Seonghwa says shortly. “You all need it right now.”
Wooyoung sighs, but doesn’t press it. Mingi watches both of them, really hoping nothing bad happens.
“Sure hope your fish is okay,” Yunho says a few minutes later, distracting Mingi from his worry.
Mingi hums in agreement. He did his best to wedge the bucket in place under one of the beds, but with the way the ship is pitching up and down, he wouldn’t be surprised if it got knocked loose.
“I think he’s a tough little guy though,” Yunho continues. “He’ll figure it out.”
“How do you know it’s not a girl,” Jongho asks.
Yunho shrugs, saying he just thinks it is. Jongho can’t find anything to argue with about that, and so the room lapses back into worried silence.
Mingi is the first one to hear the noise, his head shooting up.
“What was that-” Wooyoung starts to say before he’s cut off by the unmistakable sound of Hongjoong yelling for all hands on deck.
Mingi is on his feet and down the hallway as quickly as possible, only slowed by Jongho and Yeosang in front of him and how slippery the steps are under his feet. The rain and wind hit like a slap to the face the second the door is open, making it hard to take in the scene in front of them.
There are massive tentacles spilling across the deck, digging into the wood and crushing the railing. As Mingi watches in shock, one tentacle wraps around the mast, the wood there creaking distressingly even over the din of the waves.
“KRAKEN!”
Mingi doesn’t know who yells it first; it could even be him. There’s no time to figure it out though. They have to get this thing off the ship before it is broken apart or capsized.
Thankfully they all have their weapons on them; the closest tentacles are immediately attacked with swords and knives. Blood joins the water on the deck, oozing out of the cuts and onto the wood.
Mingi only manages to land his first hit when he is almost knocked to his knees by a wall of pure rage. The emotion is disorienting, and it takes him a long moment to realize it’s not coming from him.
“Mingi!! C’mon!!”
Jongho’s shout jolts him into action, and Mingi does his best to begin hacking at the nearest tentacle. The rage doesn’t ease up, and it takes him a scattered moment to realize it’s coming from the kraken.
This is what Sangnyeon meant, Mingi thinks dazedly. Now he just has to figure out how to control this thing.
The kraken’s rage feels all encompassing, and so Mingi does his best to make his command as big as possible. At first it feels like nothing happens, then a note of confusion and annoyance creeps into the unending stream of rage.
Mingi grits his teeth, hacking harder even as he pushes outward mentally. The rain is coming down in buckets now, streaking into his eyes and making it hard to see. Someone is yelling, and it’s as dark as night between the flashes of lightning.
Despite all of this, Mingi does his best to narrow his world down to the tentacle in front of him and the rage all around him. Before long he can’t even feel the cold of the rain; he’s sweating from the effort.
The kraken lets out a roar as its rage peaks, the noise momentarily deafening. Mingi turns in time to see Hongjoong, who clearly left the wheel at some point, get smacked into the mast by a tentacle. The thunk of his head hitting the wood is audible even over the rain and waves, and Mingi’s gut churns.
He doesn’t move, laying face down in a crumpled heap at the foot of the mast.
The kraken’s roar is soon replaced by an unmistakable mer call, but not one Mingi has ever heard before. This one is a war cry, resonating painfully through Mingi’s chest.
Even the kraken feels it, a ripple of pain spreading through its rage.
“The canons!” Yunho is yelling, almost pleading. “We have to try-”
“It’ll take too long,” Wooyoung argues. “There isn’t that kind of time!”
“-gunpowder will be soaked if we try,” Jongho says, partially cut off by a roll of thunder.
“No.”
Lightning chooses now to strike, perfectly illuminating Seonghwa. The mer is crouched by Hongjoong, and as they watch, he straightens up, the captain’s sword in his hand.
Mingi shudders at the sight. There is rage in Seonghwa’s eyes, the promise of pain and bloodshed on his face.
“I’ll do this.”
There’s suddenly no room for argument. Mingi wouldn’t cross Seonghwa for all the gold in the world right now, and it seems everyone else feels the same way.
The kraken’s rage ripples around them, yet Mingi can almost see Seonghwa’s own anger, rising off his shoulders.
He almost gasps when the flash hits him. It’s only a split second long, but he sees the future spool out in front of him before it’s retracted again, leaving him in the rain.
“SEONGHWA!”
For a heart stopping moment, he is sure the mer won’t turn, too set on his warpath to listen. But he does, head turning to pin Mingi with a frigid glare.
“The eyes,” Mingi finds himself yelling. “Stab between the eyes!”
Seonghwa gives him a sharp nod, then turns back to face the kraken.
“Get the tentacles off everything,” Mingi shouts, turning to the rest of the crew. “Anywhere it’s wrapped around something, quick!”
He doesn’t even wait to make sure everyone hears him, already moving as quickly as he can over to the closest section of tentacle that needs to go. He’s running on a heady mixture of adrenaline, kraken rage, and fear as he moves, no longer feeling the burn in his own muscles.
The tentacle in front of him splits after two strokes, and Mingi immediately wheels around for the next one.
He doesn't know how long it takes; time seems to slow or maybe even stop. Seonghwa is no longer on the deck; Mingi can feel that, the same way he can feel the kraken’s rage.
The same way he can feel its pain too. When the blow comes, it feels like a sword being driven between his own eyes, and Mingi falls to his knees with a cry of pain.
His noise is drowned out by the dying screeches of the kraken. Mingi can feel each one of its death throes, the way it loses its hold on the ship, the way the sword getting yanked out of its head feels.
He’s crying now, the tears lost among the rain.
His last thought before he blacks out is that he now understands Seonghwa’s story about the witch and gwishin queen.
-
Mingi wakes up in the infirmary, head pounding but suspiciously free of any other pain.
He doesn't open his eyes immediately, just laying still. Voices swirl around him comfortably, and he doesn’t make any particular effort to listen to what they’re saying.
He feels at peace, with no tingling sense of worry or apprehension.
Sangnyeon would probably say that’s a good thing. Mingi doesn’t know what to make of it; he doesn’t normally feel like this.
When he decides to open his eyes, he accidentally scares the crap out of Wooyoung, who was midway through leaning over his bed to check on him.
The cook lets out a screech as he reels back from the edge of the bed, immediately earning several hisses to keep the noise down.
“You scared me,” he says in a slightly calmer tone of voice, huffing.
Yunho quickly hurries over to his bed, helping Mingi sit up gently.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
Mingi doesn’t answer immediately, too busy looking around the room. San is sitting cross legged on the floor, chatting with Jongho who has taken a nearby chair. To Mingi’s left, Yeosang is perched on the edge of one of the beds, similarly observing everything. Wooyoung has evidently lost interest, and is now leaning over Seonghwa’s shoulder to look down at Hongjoong. He’s lying on the bed to Mingi’s right, but he can’t tell if the captain is awake or not from where he is.
They’re all sporting bandages and visible bruises, with no one looking untouched. Mingi hopes no one is seriously injured, trying to forget the awful sound of Hongjoong’s head hitting the mast.
“Mingi?”
Yunho’s gentle question distracts him, and Mingi looks back up at him.
“How are you feeling?” Yunho repeats, smiling softly.
“I’m okay,” Mingi rasps, his voice rough. “Is everyone else?”
Thankfully, Yunho nods.
“Just minor scrapes and cuts,” he explains. “Hongjoong’s concussion is pretty bad but he’ll be okay.”
Mingi nods, letting out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding. His headache has thankfully faded to tolerable levels.
“Mingi you’ve got to see this,” Wooyoung says, turning back to Mingi’s cot. “Hongjoong is totally out of it; it’s hilarious.”
He steps to the side, letting Mingi get a better look at his captain. His good eye seems to be open, and he’s grinning up at Seonghwa, who is standing on the other side of the bed.
“-no you’re really pretty,” he’s telling the mer. “Are you sure you’re real?”
“I’m sure,” Seonghwa assures him, his smile tired but in place. “You should really try to get some sleep, Joongie.”
“But then I can’t look at you,” Hongjoong replies.
Seonghwa continues to try and convince him to rest, clearly having little effect.
“Seems normal to me,” Mingi says, glancing over at Wooyoung.
“He was drooling earlier,” the cook gleefully reports. “Like running down his chin and everything.”
“It was gross,” San cheerfully agrees from his spot on the floor across the room.
Mingi can only look between him and the rest of the crew, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this is real.
“Oh Mingi’s awake!”
Seonghwa sounds like the words just slipped out of him, a wide grin in place when Mingi hurriedly looks up to meet his eyes.
“Woo, can you entertain him?” the mer quickly asks, waiting until the cook takes his place beside Hongjoong’s bed before stepping over to Mingi’s cot.
“Are you okay?” he asks, eyes softening with care and so much love as he reaches out to brush some of the hair out of Mingi’s face.
“Y-yeah,” Mingi manages to answer. “Are you?”
In response, Seonghwa simply lifts his shirt, displaying several bruises but no further bandages or injuries.
“You did so good,” he says, letting his top fall back into place. “I’m so proud of you, Mingi.”
Something about the way he says the words has Mingi crying before he’s even finished with the sentence, tears leaking down his cheeks entirely on their own. Seonghwa immediately reaches out when he sees them, wrapping Mingi in a hug as well as he can.
Mingi just cries, letting the relief wash through him. He doesn’t know what exactly he was so scared of; that the crew was hurt, that they wouldn’t love him anymore, that they’d think he was a failure of a witch? Whatever it was, it’s gone now, banished by Seonghwa’s arms around him and the careful way he’s stroking through Mingi’s hair.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Mingi mumbles, voice muffled by the fabric of Seonghwa’s shirt.
“None of that,” Seonghwa tells him, his voice firmer than before. “You did perfectly; don’t blame yourself for not doing whatever you’re thinking of.”
Mingi should argue with that, but he doesn’t have the energy right now. Instead, he lets his various insecurities dissolve in Seonghwa’s hold.
He’ll have to pick them back up at some point, but it’s nice to float for now.
Seonghwa eventually moves back to keep Hongjoong happy, listening to the captain’s drunk sounding ramblings about ships sailing through the sky and purple beaches with the patience of a saint. Mingi isn’t left alone for long; San soon decides his bed is much more comfortable than the floor and insists on cuddling in next to him.
It’s not the easiest fit, but Mingi wouldn’t want it any other way. San is wedged in next to him, his head tucked under the boatswain’s chin. He’s warm, his voice vibrating nicely through all the places they’re pressed together.
The combined effect of that and the blanket Yeosang decides to throw over them quickly has Mingi’s eyes drooping as he struggles to stay awake.
He doesn’t realize, but Jongho notices that he’s beginning to fall asleep. Shifting slightly in his seat, the youngest begins to hum a simple mer lullaby Heurim taught him.
Mingi doesn’t stand a chance.
-
“So he’s a witch now?”
“He’s always been a witch. He just knows about it now.”
“Nice.”
“Whatever he is, he’s ours.”
“Yeah! Our witch.”
“Well it’s good we have him; we wouldn’t have survived that kraken without him.”
“Him and Seonghwa’s tons of repressed rage.”
“Hey. That rage came in handy.”
“I think we could get the ship to fly if we try hard enough. Jongho, hoist the mainsail.”
__
“Do I actually have to listen to him like this?”
“I think he wants the mainsail up so we can fly, so no.”
“Fantastic.”
“Little quieter please guys. Our witch is a light sleeper.”
“Oops, sorry.”
-
It turns out the fish Mingi had been practicing with did survive the storm, safely wedged under the bed. Mingi finds it after a few days, kneeling down to carefully pull the bucket out.
He stares down at the fish, which simply regards him with its usual levels of disinterest.
The kraken’s emotions had been so big, the feelings all encompassing. Mingi realizes looking back that there hadn’t been anything he could consider thoughts in there; it was all pure emotion.
Looking at the fish, he concentrates.
It takes a while, but it’s a lot easier now that he knows what he’s looking for. The fish’s emotions are small, easy to miss at first.
He breaks into a grin when the tiny waves of annoyance reach him, some disgruntlement accompanying them.
Mingi doesn’t waste any time after that. He takes the bucket up to the deck, standing at the railing for a second with it in his arms.
“Thank you,” he whispers to the fish, doing his best to push waves of gratitude back at it.
He’s not sure if it works. He is sure he’s doing the right thing as he tips the bucket over the rails, watching as the fish flops back into the sea.
The tiny wave of relief reaches him even from where he’s standing, and he gets the sense that the fish is glad this is all over.
With that done, Mingi turns to head below decks.