Bloodtide

Part 9

I hated this journey and being on this ship with that pirate. We'd been at sea for days, and I was beginning to regret my decision. As much as I tried to stay clear of him, locking myself in the room was worse.

"Care to give her a spin?" he shouted from above at the wheel.

"No," I shouted back, not wanting to engage in such activity. I just wanted to bring Henry home and get off this bloody boat.

The currents were worse today, and large waves of water hit the sides. My legs were anxious as they tapped repeatedly, watching the water move around.

"You're probably the worst cargo I've had," I heard him say from beside me as I jumped, not realizing he had walked over here.

"I just want to save my friend and return home," I grumbled as he nodded.

"Yes, the friend, not lover," he joked as I rolled my eyes, tired of this conversation already.

"When do we dock?" I asked, shifting topics.

"Not for a while," he replied, his tone becoming more serious. "The sea's rough today, but we're making good time. Another few days, if the weather holds."

I sighed, frustration bubbling up. "I can't stand being on this ship much longer. It feels like we're getting nowhere."

He leaned against the railing, his expression thoughtful. "You know, the sea has a way of testing people. Patience, resilience... you learn a lot out here."

"I'm not interested in learning anything from the sea," I snapped. "I just want to find Henry and go home."

He chuckled softly. "Fair enough. But you might find that the journey changes you, whether you like it or not."

I didn't respond, staring out at the churning waves instead. The pirate's words hung in the air, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he might be right. This journey was already changing me, challenging me in ways I hadn't expected.

"Why are you helping me, anyway?" I asked suddenly, turning to face him. "What's in it for you?"

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe I like a good adventure. Maybe I think you're more than just cargo."

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Or maybe you have your own reasons."

He didn't deny it, just gave me a cryptic smile. "Everyone has their reasons. Just focus on yours, and we'll get through this."

"I never caught your name," I spoke as he smirked, his demeanor shifting slightly.

"John Blackeye," he said with a hint of pride, offering his hand for me to shake.

I took it out of courtesy, feeling the rough calluses and strength in his grip. "Ella Dubose," I replied, meeting his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and respect.

"A Dubose... that's a high-valued family," he said with a knowing smile.

"What do you know about my family?" I asked, intrigued as he chuckled softly.

"Not all pirates are ignorant," he began, his eyes gleaming with knowledge. "I happen to know quite a bit. The Dubose family boasts a long lineage."

I nodded, acknowledging my deep-rooted family history. "So, you've spent your whole life as a pirate?" I inquired, growing more curious about the man who was now aiding me in finding Henry.

"Born and bred on these very seas," he replied proudly.

"So you know everything about the sea," I asked as he nodded.

"Do you have a question about something specific?" he asked, tilting his eyes to me as I paused.

"The town talks a lot about mermaids," I began, as he nodded knowingly.

"Nasty beasts... I've encountered a few on some trips. What they say is true, but what they don't mention is how emotional they are," he spoke, gaining my interest.

"Have- have you personally met one?"

"Yes, I have," he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper as if sharing a secret. "It was many years ago, off the coast of Corsica. I was on a fishing expedition with a small crew when we saw her. She was perched on a rock, combing her hair with a mesmerizing grace."

I leaned in, captivated by his story. "What happened next?"

"We were cautious, of course. Mermaids are known for their allure, but also for their unpredictability. She seemed curious about us, watching from a distance at first," he recounted, his eyes distant with the memory. "Then, one night, she surfaced near our boat. She sang a haunting melody that echoed across the waves."

"Did you speak to her?" I asked eagerly.

He hesitated, his expression solemn. "Briefly. Their language is unlike anything I've ever heard—melodic and mysterious. She seemed sad, though, as if longing for something we couldn't understand."

"And then?" I pressed, enthralled by the encounter.

"We left shortly after that. Mermaids, for all their beauty, are creatures of the sea. It's their world, and we are only visitors," he said, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "But that experience taught me that there's much more to them than the tales people tell."

I nodded, absorbing his words. It was a glimpse into a world I had only imagined, a world where the sea held secrets beyond our understanding.

"But fishermen and other pirates just like to tell scary stories to keep people like you away from the sea. You typically don't run into them as often as it seems," he ended, his voice reassuring as I nodded.

I took a moment to consider his words. "So, the stories about mermaids being dangerous... are they all exaggerated?"

He smiled knowingly, as if he had heard this question many times before. "Not entirely exaggerated, but perhaps misunderstood. Like any creature, mermaids can be unpredictable, but they're not necessarily malevolent. They're more... elusive, mysterious."

His words resonated with me, painting a different picture than the tales I had grown up hearing. "Do you think they're still out there, swimming in the depths?"

He glanced out at the horizon, where the sea met the sky in an endless embrace. "Oh, undoubtedly. The sea holds many secrets, and mermaids are just one of them. Whether they're myths or reality, they remind us that there's still wonder and mystery in this world."

I nodded again, feeling a newfound respect for the ocean and its inhabitants.

"You seem to like them... most people dread the conversation," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm just curious. I've never left the gates of my house," I answered quickly.

He studied me thoughtfully. "So, you've never gone out on the water or even left that little town?"

I shook my head, a hint of sadness creeping into my voice. "I'm not a fan of ships, and my father banned me at a young age from playing around the beach. We found Henry there, washed up..." I explained, my voice trailing off as memories resurfaced.

His expression softened further, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I see"

I nodded silently, grateful for his empathy. "The sea has always seemed... daunting."

"But I managed to save his life, and that's why I owe it to him to do it again. He's my only friend in this life," I expressed, my demeanor shifting as I recounted the past.

"And you're sure he's not your lover?" John asked again, a mischievous glint in his eye, as I groaned in frustration.

"No!" I shouted, walking away from the wheel of the boat, feeling exasperated by the recurring question.

John chuckled knowingly, understanding how much the question irritated me. It had been a persistent tease among our friends ever since Henry and I had become inseparable after that incident on the beach.