Take my heart, Take my home.
You’ll be the one I love the most
To save you from the things you fear
I’ll take you far away from here
Into the woods, and into the trees
hand in hand you’ll be with me
Together for Eternity
–
Sometimes at work I’ll come up with songs or poems, this one came with the image of mushrooms.
You were my last hope,
So I snuffed you out
A candle holding on to the last drop of wax
A stone facing the waves of a depthless sea
I’m floating now, in that water-
In that space that once held both of us
In its absent arms, against it’s null and void heart-
Maybe I’ll sink to the bottom,
Become something else entirely-
Or maybe I’ll float, knowing that
I love you.
I loved you.
Sign a song of repentance
sing a song of Joy
watch the roses form a bed
and dance with daises on your head!
Play the flute and pan pipe
strum the lute till dawn
see the lights overhead
and count the days till you are wed!
But my Lover caught me in the woods
dancing till I barely stood
He asked me ‘Why, Are you possessed?’
I told him, ‘Dear, I’m merely Blessed!’
My Father shook his head with scorn
and my mother yelled, ‘You should’ve known
Than to dance with fairies; they’re no friend,”
But ill swear ill do it once again!
On the wind the fae will fly
And ive decided so must I!
I saw a man shot between the eyes
He looked at me with my face as I cried
He gazed up at the stars as he fell back to the soft green grass
He laughed at the world as it stared …. Back
A river formed at my… feet
And dragged me down until I couldn’t breathe
A little boy cried out for his daddy
A sister dove straight in and grabbed me
Momma told me the worlds not black and white
But looking at the ground I don’t think that’s right
Its not even shades of gray, no
Its red, red, red until it fades away
A mother told me ‘It doesn’t mater anymore
Life’s just gonna be that way’
but I still hear his laugh no base, all tenor
and the grounds still soaked when my flowers lay
the stars keep asking where do we go- oh
I keep screaming back I don’t know- oh- oh
The night keeps on shining so brightly
And I think what a shame if I stopped trying
I saw a man shot between the eyes
I’ll never forget it…
Heaven’s empty and its just you and me
But babe we both know we don’t belong here
Dripping blood and a broken halo
Rope burns on our neck
Even the statues mock our scarred backs
As if their stone wings are any better.
We can make this place our own
Move the bodies from the gilded streets
Paint the walls again
But will the smell of rot leave the wood lattices
Will the gardens grow as lush
Roses bloom as fully after they’ve soaked in bile?
We can rip them out and try again
Again and again and again
Until they’ve forgotten what it felt like
To have their eyes burned to blindness
Backs whipped and bloodied-
We’d be on top then, just you and I
The crown of eyes atop our head
Solders with flaming swords at our feet
And no more will we ask the question
Do we belong anywhere?
Because we will know the answer
Cere covered her eyes in the hope of shielding herself from the burning sun, but, as her vision went white anyway, quickly regretted it. Violent clicks burst from her chest, only to become screams as she switched to something her captor might understand. But still, Icora continued to swing her like a heavy sac as if she didn’t just slam her head into the door post. The unfiltered afternoon sun burned her eyes anyway and she writhed and clicked in weak protest.
She knew Icora’s crew was watching. They never seemed to sleep on this horrid ship, always something to do, something to whisper under their breathes’ and suddenly she had enough of it all. A high-pitched warning call silenced them all.
Pathetic, she thought. That she of all beings was being treated like an object and cowering behind her arms. Her tail flailed wildly, in hope of snagging Icora or, preferably, the wooden railing that would be her last obstacle.
Last obstacle that would start a long road to a stupid journey.
All she wanted was her sister’s neckless back.
Now she’s looking for a lost land-city.
She hated Icora.
“Alright, you can stop that now, or I’m going to be in the water with you.” Cere could hear Icora smiling. Like a child! Icora was talking to her like she was a child and Icora herself a mother! Unbelievable.
“The thought of you in the sea makes me sick, you witch.”
“Oh come on, name calling isn’t nice.”
“You’re only happy because you’re getting what you want.”
“Hmm? Then I suppose you’ll be happy in a few more seconds. Or? Can you not feel happy?”
“Eat my-“
Her tail fin slammed onto the deck as Icora threw her onto the railing.
“Well then.” She said, loud enough for the deck to hear her clearly, “I know we’ll be seeing each other soon—But do you have anything else to say?”
Cere dragged her hands down her face and opened her eyes to slits. Blurry figures she’d grown to know as Icora’s fine crew faced her, watching like they always had. Predator and prey. Trust in their captain, and also trust that Cere was a native of the sea and lashed out like it too. The closest blob stood a couple of meters behind Icora.
She rolled her head to face the captain.
There was once a time when they would go years without catching wind of each other. Where she could go back to living a normal life in her people’s towns and pick up trade and travel again. Cere, honestly, missed that time.
She snapped her head back to the crowd and said the first thing she thought of.
“Duces Fuckheads.” She flipped them off and, with well-trained ease, turned and threw herself off the side of the ship.
The sting of the ocean waves soothed as the air left in her lungs solidified and the cool waters rushed around her. Cere stayed suspended for a long moment, bathing in the soft blue light. This wasn’t home, but damn if it wasn’t better than that Mother forsaken shithole of a ship.
Cere turned and, with a second of calibration, bolted for the isolated Island.
----
Brinkley let the last of the upper crew slide past him before stepping into the Captain’s office. The odorous wall of stale sea water hit him first, and he had to hold back his lunch. He wouldn’t be on a ship if he didn’t like the smell of fish, but that mermaid smelled much worse than any rotting pile of guts and scales. He never got used to it.
Icora’s old familiar chuckle rose above the ascending footsteps.
“And what do the buckets say, Brinkley?” The captain had her back to him, and studied something on her wall of trophies. Icora tended to forgo her coat and accessories while she was in her office, like nothing in the outside world would dare take advantage of her while schemed.
“They’re all clean, Icora.”
“And did you make any progress with Martie?” She pulled away to look at him over her shoulder.
“No.”
She smiled but didn’t laugh. Brinkley shut the door behind him.
“You know, that’s one of the many reasons I like you.” Icora sighed and gestured him closer, to look at the pot-marked map that laid in front of her. “You’re reliable. Consistent. Predictable.”
“You only like that because you yourself are none of those things.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Yes.”
She laughed this time. Picking up discarded pins and tools she used to mark where they were going to go, she let Brinkley look over the dots and dashes that made up all of their wayward trips. Brinkley didn’t know of many isles that didn’t have their boot prints on them, didn’t know of any nation that hadn’t seen their flag fly into port or off shore, but still, there were always things to do. People to check up on, trading routes to make sure were still free of growing monopolies and countries to make sure stayed on their own lands. And if not practical, then they were off finding treasure or whatever suited Icora’s fancy that morning.
The sea, Icora said once, changed at will; who knows what will drop into it next.
He traced the newest line from the point the ship was to where it would soon be. He checked the coordinates once, then twice, then tapped his fingers on the desk.
“Ask away.” Icora slumped into her seat, looking up at him expectantly.
“What are you planning?”
She offered him a drink. He declined with a wave of his hand and, Icora drank for him.
“Predictable, see? Why do you think I’m planning something?”
“You’re always planning something and... these places you’ve marked...”
“What about them?”
“You know what. I want to know why. I know it’s not just a treasure hunt or whatever you told the mermaid and I know it’s something much bigger than what we normally do.” There was something sharp in his voice, demanding and accusing, hardly detectable. Like a jellyfish’s stinger.
But it wasn’t like Icora was never stung before. It was determined a long time ago that Brinkley couldn’t scare her.
She still waited to responded, just long enough to make Brinkley think that she’d thought about her words carefully.
“I trust you. You know that.”
“Yes, and I you.” He said almost automatically.
She closed the gap between them, grasping his heavy coat with one hand. “Then trust me when I say if you tell anyone about this, I will leave you and whoever else on whatever island we land on and never look back.” She smiled and waited for his response.
When none came, “A long time ago, I left something in a place I knew I would forget, on a land much larger than any of these islands, yet a few days ago it suddenly came back to me. I asked myself ‘why?’. Why should I remember after all this time. And trust me, it’s been a long time. But there’s really only one answer; it’s time for me to get it back.”
--
Cere felt the water die. Not all at once, but as if the creatures teaming around in the light knew there was a boundry they shouldn’t cross, so they kept well away from it. A gradient that, after she swam far enough, left her feeling light headed. She knew where she was and knew she still had further to go.
But, there was a stop she could make first. Then, maybe she could bypass the island all together.
She dove further down the water column and braced for the current that would take her close to the island chain but... it didn’t come. Down further as the light faded into inky black and still there was no rush of water.
This place really is dead
Cere ignored the rotting pit in her stomach as she retraced her steps to the lighter, warmer waters. Naturally Icora would have her do this. Naturally. Beings like her didn’t care about the sea. No for the things living in it, anyway. They could never understand what it meant for water to be dead. They would only care when it was too late.
--
Cere slowed down as the ground started to slope upwards. Usually her people never got this close to the rocky isle shores, there was no reason for it. Sure, there were many creatures to be hunted in the tidal zone, but the coast was not her territory. Oh, how she wished she was in her territory.
Her arms and eyes burned as she lifted herself onto a rock close to the shore. The land in front of her was brown, grassy. This was not the place to be. Back into the water.
Cere followed the island’s shore until the beach receded into the land and tree roots grew in between the boulders. Here... Here would do.
She watched as the juvenile creatures bolted out of her path while she slowly moved inward. The water tasted different, not dead but only brackish. Still gross. She lifted her head out of the water to find the green canopy shielding her eyes from the sun. A head of her, the tree roots grew too thick to go any close to land and, even if she could, the possibility of leaving quickly would slowly disappear. This would do.
So, Cere pulled herself towards the closest tree and gathered her hair neatly in front of her and started to sing.
Her voice was nothing compared to sirens, or even the whale songs that made up the white noise of the sea but, as Icora had described once, she had a voice ‘surprisingly gracefully for such a hideous creature.’ At the time Cere immediately tried to stab her with a sharp rock, but she had appreciated the complement, only a little bit.
She sang in her native tongue, softly at first as she started to breathe in air and then louder, to fill in the spaces underneath the canopy. The sounds of the marine forest paused to listen to the mermaid, even the sea winds ceased to move the leaves above. Straining to hear beyond her voice, Cere sand louder until the snapping of twigs called her to stop.
Wait... She must wait. Who knows what could set it off.
The leaves moved again and, so did the water but nothing could cover the sound of something wading through the water.
“Creature of beyond the island, you have called?” a quiet voice met Cere’s ears, sending chills down her spine. Not that she was afraid, hardly, but the spindle-like voice grated against her skull.
“I have, and I would like to ask a question. Please, are you iwi-atua?”
“Fairie? Yes I am.”
“May I look at you?”
“Yes.”
Cere turned her head and bowed at the person in front of her, standing in the water with their root-colored hair spilling like a cloud of ink in the water. Beyond that they were naked, bare and smooth skin, almost like they were a part of the forest itself. If they weren't thousands of kilometers away from the nearest human civilization, Cere might have thought them human. But that would be a grave mistake to say out loud.
“What is your name, sea- creature.” the Fairie took a step closer, smiling with jaded eyes.
So, they were hungry on the isle. And here Cere thought she’d have a pleasant conversation.
“I am a Daughter of the Mother, please call me as such.”
Cere gave no indication that she saw their smile twitch. “Very well then, Daughter of the Mother. What is your question?”
“There is an Island north west of here, 30 knots if by sail, past were the water turns bleached and dead, does that island virgin to human or Fae influence?”
“A strange question for a creature such as yourself. 30 knots? Do you know of sails and wooden coffins? Why do you, Daughter of the Mother of the Seas, care?”
Cere tilted her head. An interesting game they were playing- another chance at her own life.
“I am trying to get back my sister’s necklace,” Cere answered honestly, “And visiting the island will help me obtain my goal. I came here because I know for sure that your people, and others, reside here and thus may know if your sisters and brothers are there. Are there Fae or Humans on the island?”
A tingling sensation rushed down Cere’s spine, a growl vibrating the back of her skull. She didn’t give a satisfactory answer, it seemed. But damn them, if it was a fight she was going to get into, then it was a fight she was going to win.
Cere thought all of this without indicating a single thing. To her surprised however, the fae creature answered.
“There has never been Humans or any land creature on the island. Fae, however, used to live there before the Witch killed everything, my people moved soon after and none has been there since.”
Cere watched the water ripple as the woman stepped close to her, hair dragging behind her like smoke.
“That place is not for the likes of you. Fae were killed there. That land is ours.”
“Then I guess its lucky for us that I won’t be needing to go there, is it?”
There were many phrases that Cere had learned while being with Icora and her crew. Many curse words but a lot of well-to-use idioms too. ‘Kicked the bucket’ was a fun one that she enjoyed hearing, mostly because she didn’t know what a bucket was at the time and kicking was something she’d never done before, so her finding out that ‘kicking the bucket was another way of saying ‘dying’ brought out a rare laugh within her. But there were more practical ones, like the saying ‘red sky in the morning, sailors warning’ because this was true to her knowledge, her own people used it with different phrasing and ‘The last straw’ when finally, someone stopped taking shit from others. She couldn’t count how many times Icora had pulled ‘the last straw’ with her.
Cere had picked the last straw with the iwi-atua.
It leaped at her with the speed that, if she were not a mermaid, would have disoriented her and would most likely lead to her death. But she was a mermaid. A daughter of the Mother, as she warned, and the fae did not disorient her.
--
The Galleon swayed gently as she waded in the water, perfectly at peace with the ocean and wind. Most of its crew were below deck, eating a lunch of rice and fish while the ones above deck did their routine checks.
Martie sat against one of the walls, a good number of different sized papers spread across the table and sticky rice in her hands. It was a writing assignment, or, more correctly a report that Icora had already written, but had copied the papers she’d used and gave them to her to see how well she could write the same report. How much time did Icora have to just waste on giving her assignments? Grated, it was probably Brinkley that suggested it.
Fuck that dude.
In her increasing desperation to get the paper done with, she’d even asked the other crew members siting around her for help. But most of them ignored her or played dumb. Every time. Every time she had homework it was like they’d never met her. Martie didn’t know if it was because some of them wanted nothing to do with writing a report or because Icora had given them an order not to help.
Sen-Woo, one of the gunners, a deckhand and the first person that she had gotten to know sat down at the opposite end of the table, making her papers slide.
“Oh, sorry Martie, didn’t think you’d still be working on that stuff.”
“You know I always wait for your ever so insightful advice. Tell me. What should I do today.”
Before joining Icora’s crew, Sen-Woo was an entertainer of sorts. He was also a student of science. And a successful merchant. And a school teacher. Because of his background, he would give impromptu lectures on how the world worked that made even Brinkley stop and listen. But what excited Martie the most was the fact that he could talk about the newest of sciences and then immediately turn around and say the most profound and dumbest stuff she had ever heard.
He gave her and insidious look and snapped back. “Respect your superiors and do your homework in your own space.” But the frown didn’t last long, his broken tooth smile crept up like it always had when he tried to be angry. “Ah, I’m just teasing.”
“I had no idea.” Her face had stayed placid the entire time.
“I was going to offer you singing lessons, actually.”
The clump of rice she was aiming to eat fell back into her bowl.
“Singing lessons?”
“Yeah, it’s about time you learned the really important stuff like singing shanties with us.” he gestured to everyone on the room. While most of them wisely made no acknowledgement of the comment, many more were smirking over their meal.
He was serious. Martie knew Sen-Woo and he was serious.
A thousand words and incomprehensible sounds flooded her mind but her mouth just opened and closed like a fish.
THUMP
The wall behind Martie shook, but before she, or any of the others, could do anything, shouting and footsteps sounded above them. Rushing to see what had hit our ship no doubt.
Martie bounded up and squeezed past the other members of the crew as they sped towards the stair case, however, everyone paused as they heard the captain.
Laughing. She was laughing. Loud and jovial as if drunk on stolen wine.
Half the crew sighed and went to sit down and finish their meal.
Tia, one of the few that never moved even shouted. “Never have I ever seen so much commotion for a single fish.” She laughed and caught a bowl that was tossed at her. Martie climbed the steps anyway.
Darkening clouds covered the sun, promising rain at a later date, but the nausea Martie usually felt was absent from her mind and she walked over to Icora’s side by the railing.
“Cap’t.” She said as a way of greeting.
“Martie. Help Auali’i pull up the net. Cere has something with her.” Icora’s tone set her on edge, there was something wrong. Maybe not too wrong, Icora had a different tone she used for big problems. Just like she had different voice marking how good a mood she was in so Martie knew when to prod her with questions or turn in her work. On a scale of one to ten, ten being worst case, this was maybe a six or seven.
She silently obeyed her orders, got behind Auali’i, and started to pull on the ropes bringing Cere up to the deck. A moment later Brinkley was behind the captain doing the same, a wordless conversation happening between them.
Martie willed herself to breathe normally as the net rose above the railing. Cere appeared a moment later, silver tail hanging over the net, shinning iridescent in the sun like it usually did, however, black and red oozed down the mermaid’s chest, most of it coming from a mass she held in her arms.
The mermaid waited until the net lowered to the grown before turning to Icora. The side of her face and neck had deep claw marks gouged into them with some of the same ooze leaking out in small diluted streams. Cere didn’t seem to care, instead she lifted the mass she was clutching.
Martie watched as it unfurled and stared for a long minute. No... it didn’t really unfurl, it was hair, golden red hair, that fell down and mixed with Cere’s own ink black. Brinkley actually stumbled back in something akin to horror.
She was holding a covered head. But it wasn’t a creature that Martie had ever seen in her life.
“I come back bearing gifts.” Cere’s broken voice dripped with distain as she looked up at Icora.
From afar the massive bodies looked just like caped sized boats. Maybe discolored in the twilight blue, but it was a risk the pirate captain was willing to take. Summer storms were common, and a capsized boat could bring in treasures, information, or occasionally, people. Icora wasn’t in the business of selling lives, but, as she learned early on, people were good for other things too. When the ship moved closer rocking steadily in the placid water, and found the sea a deep ink color, the crew were glad of the little detour.
Mermen and women lay floating, shifting along with the waves and current underneath. Icora watched as their whale-like bodies bobbed up and down. It was a tragedy, the death of such a long-lived creature, but, as the captain said, with tragedy comes trove. Just one semi-preserved body could gain a small fortune, depending on the buyer.
She ordered her crew to try and grapple one of the bodies—that’s all that they would need—and bring in onto the boat. She didn’t want to say a small one, a child, but the crew understood. They went to work immediately, setting up a pulley system and gathering nets.
Brinkley stood and watched from above, watched the waters as if he was counting all the bodies. His black features showing no emotion. Icora let her crew work and joined her first mate as he stared off into the horizon.
“They’ll sink to the bottom.” He said, slowly pulling away from his trance to look at her. His captain, worn by the sea storm wind and pelting rain, but not by age itself.
“Hail and well met to you too.” Was all she said.
He stared at her, black eyes reflecting the gold lamp light and blinked once, twice. “I… I’m sorry, Captain, please forgive me. Its just…” His eyes glazed over again. “I have the strange feeling that something is not right.”
“There are bodies the size of ships scattered in the hundreds here, Brinkley I know something is wrong.”
“It’s… not just that.” He turned his gaze back out to the waters. The light was gone now. “The merpeople should be sinking. Bodies sink.”
Icora didn’t have the energy to ask just how well Brinkley knew that fact. She already knew that he’d swam with enough dead and debris by his side to speak the truth. But still, his discomfort was off putting. Brinkley would worry about the smallest of things, yes, but when it came to dangers, a rising storm, a pissed off business dealer, Brinkley never showed traces of secondary thoughts. What was he really thinking?
Just as she was about to reply, Denokin, a workmen and a skilled wood carver, shouted the captain’s name from below.
Both Icora and Brinkley looked down and the scrambling men and women. Half of them pulled on ropes and levers, while the other half switched from staring down into the water to readying their weapon.
“Captain Icora, there’s something thrashing in the waters coming closer to the ship!” Denokin yelled. “We think another group of merfolk.”
“Naturally.” Icora said to no one in particular, then, “Work to get the body on board, everyone!” Her voice booming in the night-nipped air. Icora grabbed Brinkley’s arm and lead him to the main deck, half readied weapons leaning against the wooden wall. With her people on one side of the deck, the other lay free for just the two of them.
“Do you want me to help pull up the body?” Brinkley’s voice was still far off, like he was still trying to solve the puzzle.
“No. I need you to tell me what you see. What you hear. Quickly.”
Icora knew what she saw; blue black waves reaching out to make what she had the unfortunate habit of calling home, dark islands appearing like tumors on the horizon, carcasses floating face down and, if she strained her eyes against the orange glow emanating behind her, she could see bursts of water exploding from the surface, meters above the highest sail.
“Screams.” Brinkley said. Then, as if hit in the chest, he woke and looked around frantically. “Screams, Icora, there are two still alive and they fight under the water, something- something to do with a gang.”
“Is it something that needs interfering?”
“I don’t know. The little one won’t survive against him. There is more than we dont understand.”
“I know.” Icora said as she shed off her heavy coat and outer accessories.
“What are you doing.” He didn’t wait to start shedding his own coat, holding onto a sleek dagger with his teeth as he did.
“If ‘He’ wins and finds out we’re taking one of his own aboard then we might be next on his kill list. I’d rather pass on that.”
Brinkley nodded and turned to watch the encroaching geyser. Like a clockwork machine, Icora issued command after command, grabbing rope and tying it securely around herself and the end of the deck. Teket and Salem joined them, fashioning Brinkley a harness like Icora’s and quickly equipped them both, captain and first mate, with more daggers.
“Icora!” Brinkley shouted, now finally seeing individual scales on the mermaid’s tail, how some of them were torn off and bloodied.
Without another word, Icora dove into the water.
-
Tio screamed in fury as another cut appeared on his face-- A high pitched scream that made the water shake in his fury. More blood seeped into the warm, blackened waters as his tail, thick and rattled with scars, pinned Cere in the rush of water.
As small as Cere was compared to the gang leader, she spit and clawed at his eyes like she was equal in size. Her hair whipped around them, blurring the lines between herself and her soon to be murderer and her screams of rage matched his in intensity. Cere wanted to bite out his throat. There was once a time where she was trained to defend herself. To fight. But with every one dead in the water, there wasn’t a point to keep appearances up.
Killed them. Killed them all. This bastard kill all her brothers and sisters and threated to lay waist to The Mother. Cere felt the brush of cold, dead flesh against her forearm and struggled to move beyond it. No one ever took them seriously, no one would ever dare hurt the mother of the deep. But these bastards.
White hot anger clouded her vision as she screamed again. She pulled her arm free from his grasp and, ignoring the pain, shot forward, clawing his eyes again.
They poisoned their bodies-- sick fucks—and cried out for war. Cere and her siblings only knew something was wrong when they died smiling, viscous and animal. They figured out soon enough, however.
And now their bodies float. Never to see the bottom of the ocean and thus, rest. Not like her siblings. Not like her.
She pushed out of his range, Tio barely missing her torn and ruined fin. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He mattered. His death mattered.
There was a moment of silence. Her long hair swirled through the water as she spun circles in the water. They looked at each other, the last of each tribe as far as Cere knew, and she the only one standing between him and The Mother.
A low growl emanated from her chest. Now was not the time to think. Another dagger found its way into her hand, one of his martyrs. She surged forward, aiming for his chest.
But just before she could, a column of loud, white bubbles appeared to their side. A flash of metal flew through the water and caught on Tio’s arm. The bubbles cleared to show two creatures, swimming with unbelievable speed towards her and Tio.
Cere’s vision flashed white as Tio’s hands raked across her face, pulling her hair down. It seemed that the dagger didn’t bother him, nor the other beings. Cere screamed again, reaching up and pulling at his own hair, pulling and pulling until chunks started to pull off his skull. She wondered briefly why he didn’t pull hers.
Maybe he was more a gentleman than her.
Cere ripped and clawed at his face, adrenaline bursting through her veins once again. She had to do it now. Kill him now. And then deal with the intruders.
Except, she didn’t have time.
A surprisingly strong arm wrapped around her torso and pulled her away from Tio. She saw through her tendrils of hair an arm pull down on rope before she was being pulled through the water again.
Pulled and pulled and pulled and-
Cere felt her whole body grow heavy the water was stripped from her side. Hot moist air hit her lungs as she automatically switched. She coughed and flailed and tried to see what had a hold on her. Tried to see period. Her hair clung to her skin making it impossible to tell what was hers and what was her captor.
She tried to scream but just coughed up more water.
-
The pulsing thing in her arms wasn’t easy to pull out of the water, much less hauling her up to the ship deck. Icora’s hands grew numb from holding onto the rope and the slippery mermaid’s body as tightly as she could, there were even a few moments where she thought she would drop the struggling mermaid back into the waters.
Icora thought that it would prefer that. It clicked and gasped against her and only flailed more as the crew grabbed them both and pulled them over the rail. It was like an actual fish, and she some crazed buffoon without tools. The difference between the creature in her arms and a fish was the hair and the black and half broken talons that threatened to slice through her skin.
As gracefully as she could muster, Icora untangled herself from the maid’s slimy and tangled hair. A thick piece of cloth landed on the wood beside her and she picked it up to dry herself, thanking someone in some direction. Icora wasn’t one to be surprised by a great many things, but how deeply the cloth turned red shocked her. If this was the blood on her, how much was the thing…
It gasped again, blood and water oozing out of its mouth. The gathered crowd around them shifted on their feet, unsure of what to make of living, breathing creature. Then, it braced as if about to scream, but no sounds escaped. It was the mermaid’s turn to be shocked. She raked her hair out of her face and growled as the yellow light met her eyes. Her movements were clumsy, but the scowl on her face proved that she was a predator. A predator out of its habitat.
Icora couldn’t help but laugh.
That laugh did two things, it made the crew relax, all of them breathing a collective sigh of relief as they realized their captain was in no way worried about the legendary creature before them. And, it put a target on her back, given the way the mermaids head wiped to her and black, soulless eyes close to slits. It tried to move back, but the sudden heaviness of her own body meant she could only go a few inches before giving up. Truly a fish out of water.
Icora heard a gasp as the rope behind her pulled twice. Brinkley. Still in the water?
The crew jumped into action, moving to help pull the rope with, hopefully, the first mate in tow. The mermaid hissed as unfiltered light hit her and she made to cover her face.
Icora wondered if the mermaid saw her roll her eyes and grab her coat where it lay on the deck, if she saw or sensed her coming up behind her to through the jacket over her head, shielding her from the harsh light, only because of the look of calm beauty that slackened her face as the mermaid looked up at her. She was an animal, a fierce predator. But she was still a being. Person, debatable. But a thing with feelings and needs, absolutely.
The maid stopped making sounds of protest or anger. Or, whatever it was feeling. But after that quick moment of peace, a loud thump sounded behind them and the mermaid hissed.
Icora turned to see her first mate, breathing heavily but breathing all the same, with a mass slumped next to him; the merman.
Unlike the maid, who’s skin was silvery blue and covered in scales, slim with hair longer than Icora was tall, the male creature had thick gray skin riddled with scars, a flat head and a wide mouth with large, triangular teeth. A shark. Icora glanced back at the maid, now staring intently at the male. That little fish was fending off a shark. On the other hand, a man killed a creature double his size and then pulled them both out of the water. Icora knew she shouldn’t be impressed, but, she was.
The crew stood clear of the captain and first mate, some of them going back to their previous tasks, as Icora walked over. He didn’t even look harmed.
“Dead?” She asked, nudging the merman’s face with her boot.
“Ey, took a while to take him down though.”
“You were in his territory.”
“It didn’t give him much an advantage.”
She let out a heavy laugh, pulling Brinkley to his feet. He winced as he steadied himself, but Icora could tell it was more an act then actuality.
“That just leaves us with this one.” She nodded towards the crumbled mass of fish behind her and, was surprised to see it had moved closer to them. Perhaps its loud thrashing before was only to throw them off, or it was finally used to the different environment.
The creature pulled itself forward with her talons, hair sometimes snagging on the wood and, Icora let her. Let her crawl towards the dead merman, even moved out of the maid’s path. Even will all her knowledge of the sea, Icora knew little of the mermaids that dwelled under the surface, that is to say, barely no one knew about them. Their customs, language, even their appearance was documented poorly. So, Icora let the mermaid get closer, just incase if there was something she didn’t understand.
-
Cere watched out of the corners of her eyes, watched her captor and the other one-- the other, dirty and foul and revolting one who killed Tio and infected the air with its … miasma -- as she inched closer to the dead body. She found the killing blow, the foreign knife sticking out of his neck, and felt a tangible net of anger over her. This was her kill. This was her vengeance. And that… Thing standing above the two of them stole it from her.
Faster than they could stop her, Cere pulled out the dagger from his neck and plunged it into his eye socket. It was easier than she had expected, since there was no eye in it. Blood still pooled out though, caking her hand again with his blood. She felt the net wither away then, her anger dissipating into the wood like the blood and seawater. The Pirate’s laugh a distant, weak sound.
She looked up at them, the pirates, and thought about all the stories her people would whisper about them. How stupid but deadly and persistent they were. Their greed and how it would drive them to the ends of the earth to find the things they wanted. How mermaids were treated by them, and how it was common for mermaid to treat them.
She ran her eyes down her two captors. Wet and clothes sticking to them, watching her and speaking without regard to her very presence, the gold adorning their dark, sun damaged skin. She should kill them. Kill them all and let the ghost ship float along. Or let the Mother take care of them.
But she couldn’t- couldn’t get the Mother at least, not with the bodies, poisoned and rotted, floating out there. She needed to… she needed…
Cere heaved her chest, trying to make a noise other than clicks and growls, but only breathy moans escaped past her lips. It did the job though, capturing their attention again. They needed to watch this. To figure out what it meant if words wasn’t enough.
She carefully pulled the knife back out of Tio’s corpse and wiped it on his skin. The Thing stepped back a moment, but the one she was interested in stayed put. Cere made eye contact with the woman, grabbed a chunk of her hair and started to cut it, right by her scalp. There was a flash of surprise, but then, amazingly, recognition flashed though the woman’s face. A pit of almost regret grew from the bottom of her chest. There was something more to this pirate woman.
It took time. More time that Cere liked, but it gave her the opportunity to formulate a real plan. To think things through. All the while the Pirate never deviating from her gaze.
When she finished, she gathered her hair into one bundle and held it out towards the pirate. There was a moment of silence where she felt more than just the Things eyes on her, but she waited, her eye fixed on the other’s, the Captain.
-
Icora knew what the mermaid was asking. No, telling her what to do. To take the hair, yes, and to probably sell it for huge amounts of money or keep it as a trophy. But it was more than that. Icora hardly believed her eyes as the creature sawed off her long, inky black hair, yet here it was; the offer.
Icora knelt down and untiled the ribbon she used to tie her own hair back from her wrist and carefully, deliberately, tied the mermaid’s hair together. This close again she could see the iridescence of the mermaid’s skin, hear her heaving unused lungs, realize that black blood flowed from her scalp and not some trick of the light. Icora stepped back and waited for the mermaid to make the next move.
But instead of pushing herself back towards the railing. The mermaid held the hilt of the dagger and placed it gently, but meaningfully, on her chest.
Icora smirked. “A trade? Your hair, worth more than this entire ship, for that little dagger?” the captain spoke, knowing full well that the mermaid could not understand her, however, the creature took the tone and just thumped her chest again. Icora raised an eyebrow.
“She can keep it.” Brinkley said, with more venom than Icora had ever heard from him. Icora waited for an explanation, but none came.
The creature hit the floor to get their attention again. She then tilted her head towards the other merman’s body. The small one they’d pick out of the sea and was lying on the ground much like the shark; torn and bloodied. Instead of being pissy, the mermaid pointed out into the black sea and made a grasping motion, lifted her fist above her head, and then laid it down on the ship deck. Her eyes already gleamed with irritation, as if expecting them to not understand.
And just for kicks, Icora turned towards Brinkley. He didn’t even want to speak in the mermaid’s presence, much less try to understand its meaning, but the first mate sighed and said through his teeth.
“Collect the floating bodies. Then take them away.”
“Do you know why they’re floating? And not sinking to the sea floor?” Icora smiled and crossed her arms. There was, after all, a reason he was her first.
He didn’t answer right away, as per usual, instead her stared out into the black. Icora did too, spotting dots of bioluminescence amidst black masses.
“They poisoned their own bodies. With red algae, I think, but then, something more… I can’t tell. They wanted their corpse to sink.”
“Then there’s something down there? Something that likes to eat? Interesting.” Icora glanced down at the mermaid again, smiled, and stuck out her palm. It was a beautiful night to make a deal.
“My name is Icora. Proud Captain of this fine ship and, let’s say, an adventurer by trade. I understand your wishes, and I think I can get the results. I also believe… that we’ll be great partners if you should accept.”
Brinkley swore under his breath and turned from them. “Captain, it doesn’t even understand us. It can’t be work the safety of our crew, we know nothing about-”
“Brinkley, don’t be rude. We don’t know what we don’t know. So let’s find out.”
He wiped is face down, the late hours and no sleep finally showing on his frame. “I knew you would say that.”
Icora smiled, though she doubted he could see her in the low light. She glanced down at her own hand, a silent but persistent ask to take it and, after spitting in the first mate’s direction, the mermaid carefully laid her palm flat against hers, understanding of her own glowing in her black eyes. There was a framiliar prickling sensation, like needles poking her palm.
“It’s done then, part-“
The mermaid’s voice silenced everything, everyone, on the ship deck. Icora even felt Brinkley tense all muscles, poised to either attack or run. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her crew halted in whatever they were doing, just to hear the accent of the deep ocean.
“What did you say?” Icora hummed, her heart beating faster than she could remember. She tried to keep the excitement from her voice.
“Cere.” The mermaid’s mouth parted and closed again, still trying to use parts of her body that were never needed before. Her forehead crinkled in concentration, trying to sound out works she’d never spoken, but somehow knew to say. “Na-mes. Cere.” She indicated their still touching hands. “Paretnarus.”
Icora savored the moment, from being the first person to ever, successfully, make a pact with a mermaid right down to the slimy cool touch of her skin. She was sure she’d remember this for a long time, sure that soon enough she’d grow friendly toward the mermaid and framiliar with its touch.
I'm very happy you have your story and poems on something other than tapas as well because I can no longer use the site because of past stuff and anxiety, but I really wanted to check out candle and the wax flame so this makes me very happy
ah! thank you im really happy to hear someone wants to read it! I’ll continue to post stuff here and on tapas (which reminds me I have to post the next part ahhhh)
We started as a spark,
Some lint- it was a rough beginning
But it went off like a firecracker
More tinder, more logs, Bigger fires, more people
Happy, heathy golden light
Burning, burning.
I put logs in
You put in pine needles
Sure, mine were damp-
A bit rotten in places- I’ll admit
But you were fine with your ‘gifts’
Of trash and twigs
And I was fine with that,
Something to burn on, nowhere else to go-
But I couldn’t move, couldn’t spare another log
for you to sit on, to burn-
you didn’t think, to look behind you,
to see the whole forest was gone.
You looked me right in the eye, waited
And when the final log gave in
We went up in smoke.
Sink sink
The bodies sink
All of them
To the Bottom-
Bottom
the murky bottom
of clay- bones
Forgotten treasures
forgotten bodies
Treasured bodies-
gather ‘round
All around-
we dig,
we eat,
we grow,
up from fat
from flesh
and bloom
a coral reef
blind and sacred
from the gore-
falling
down down
everything falls
to the ocean floor-
we thrive
