CHAPTER SIX - FUTURE SORROWS

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The storm is fierce. It sends it’s echoes to all who work on the Iron Maiden below deck. The light swings angrily above them, casting Eric, the story-teller, into a strange array of shadows.
The cabin boy, his lone witness asks, “and then what happened?”
Eric laughs. “What do you mean what happened?”
“I mean what I asked! What happened next?”
“Next... next, they waged war on the humans, just like the King swore to do. Only it wasn’t really the King you had to worry about. Now, it was the queen that everyone had to fear. She took all the grief that came with losing a babe, and she turned it into a weapon. No one has killed as many men as she.”
The cabin boy, Reggie, asks, “so... you think it’s real?“Think?” Eric laughs. He’s a tall man, with short black hair. He holds up an arm, revealing scars where rows of teeth have dug into it. “I know for a fact that it’s true! Only thing is, they don’t look the way that they used to. They look different. Lost their humanity. More fish than anything else these days. Fish with a grudge.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” says Reggie, scoffing. He stands up, grabbing his mop from where it’s propped against the wall. “Everyone talks about these mer like they’re something special, but if they’re just fish—”
“You’d best hope you’re never proven otherwise,” says Eric. He doesn’t bother to get up, just goes back to the book he’d been reading before Reggie stopped in, begging for a tale and a few minutes to rest.
Reggie pauses in the doorway. He’s young and hot-headed, and he hates not getting the last word in. “Look, maybe that story might have worked when you were my age, but things are different now. If there were real mermaids, don’t you think I would have seen it online?”
Eric says, “they’re smart and crafty. They attack, and then they retreat back into the deep. People have gotten flashes of them on film before, I’m sure, but it’s hard to tell them apart from shadows and sea bass if you don’t know what you’re looking for.”
Reggie challenges, “and you’re telling me, you know what you’re looking for.”
“I’ve seen them before. Fought them before. That’s where this scar—"
“That looks like you pulled a shark up in a net,” interrupts Reggie, scoffing. It’s clear that there’s going to be no changing his mind.
Eric snorts. “Don’t ask for the truth if you aren’t going to listen next time.” And then he goes back to his book, pointedly shifting so a shoulder is turned towards Reggie.
The boy sputters for a moment before stamping upstairs. And, for a time, it’s peaceful. But peace never lasts, least of all on the sea. Shouting from above deck draws Eric’s attention.
“Damned newbies,” he mutters, slamming his book down. “Can’t even handle a storm on their own!”
He stamps up the stairs, shrugging on his yellow rain slick as he goes, fully ready to yell at his crew and direct them to batten down hatches, to get anything loose tied down – but it’s not a storm he walks up into.
At least, it’s not just a storm.
The rain comes down in a heavy, gray sheet so thick it’s hard to see through. Waves crash over the rails, spilling sea water across the deck. It runs red against the stones.
For it’s not just a storm they’re battling. Not just hard winds, hard rain, and lighting – but the very mer that Eric had just been telling stories about now brought havoc to the deck of the Iron Maiden. They ripped sailors apart with fangs and claws, and threw them over board with their mighty tails. They climbed up the hull of the ship, raging, screeching, these awful inhuman sounds.
Reggie screams, grappling with a mer who’s tail glints orange and white like a clownfish. Fangs have already sunk into the cabin boy’s neck. There’s no saving him.
There’s no saving any of them, thinks Eric, with a sinking feeling. Palpitating, Eric turns and all but throws himself at one of the life boats. He makes quick work of untying it, and dropping down into the waters. Using the paddle, he struggles to push himself away from the hull of the Iron Maiden. The storm quickly devours the sound of his shipmates suffering.
They will become another ghost story spread around at port, no doubt. Another warning that no one will heed.
But Eric – he’s escaping! He’s slipped past them!
For a brief moment, even the woes of the sea cannot snuff out the flame of hope!
Eric does his best to put distance between himself and the ship. The rain slick does nothing to protect him now. Between the waves rolling over the ship and the rain, Eric quickly finds himself soaked through.
A particularly large wave threatens to roll the ship. Eric drops the oar, choosing to grab onto the side of the ship instead. Water crashes down over him. The salt burns his eyes. Coughing and sputtering, he looks up in time to see another wave rolling over him – and then he is in the water, the ship gone, thrashing, flailing, trying to get back to the surface.
Eric’s head breaches the surface. He gasps, but only manages to pull in a single breath before he’s yanked back under. This time, it’s not a wave that does it, but a webbed hand curled around his ankle.
Kicking and struggling, Eric looks down – and his whole body locks up.
A mer has him. Her face is twisted and distorted, more animal than human. Rows of sharp, needle like teeth stick out from behind iridescent lips. White hair fans out around her, like gossamer, and a crown is braided into her hair with slips of silver.
“I will give you unity,” she says, her voice twisted by the water. It sounds like a song that Eric heard a long time ago. He doesn’t want to fight any more. “I will give you unity, between land and sea. It’s death that serves as the bridge. Cross the bridge, brittle fin. Cross it now.”
Eric can’t breathe, but her voice is like a charm. He can’t fight, either. He can only let the ocean swallow him whole, suffocating just as Turbinella did years ago.
When Eric finally grows still, Queen Conch releases him. His body floats up to the surface, where it will continue to be battered by waves, where eventually it will serve as a meal for the fish and the sharks and the birds of the sea. Nature’s unity.
Queen Conch waits for the other mer to return to the sea, launching themselves overboard, and then she leads them back down, deep into their home.
In the future, there will be more ships that are destroyed beneath their hands. There will be more sailors drowned, and more men shredded. For the gap between human and mer has been bridged, not with peace but with hatred, and it is not something that will be easily fixed – all for a piece of tossed away plastic.

Fin.

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