FACE Mertalia

The Start of it All

It was another ordinary day in the Pacific when Arthur headed home that night. His emerald tail propelled him quickly down the road to the cave he shared with his friend Francis. Arthur breezed by the scenery, even though it was the pinnacle of summer and all the coral was at its brightest; he had other things to do than stand around and gawk. Following the winding trail, Arthur couldn't wait to get home to have a nice cup of tea and relax. He hummed softly to himself as he hefted the large bags of groceries he carried in his arms.

After a few more minutes, Arthur arrived at the cave, grateful to be home. The cave itself wasn't much, just a large mound of rock surrounded by kelp to hide the entrance to any humans that might wander by, but it had a sense of home. Arthur was in such a rush to take care of the groceries he failed to notice a blond head and a little white seal below, peering at him through the curtain of kelp.

"Francis, I'm home!" Arthur called as he made his way through the entry to the kitchen. Halfway down the hall, Arthur glanced in to the living room and paused, flabbergasted. The room was a disaster, Francis' travel and cooking magazines were strewn about the floor and the old lamp next to the couch was a pile of glass. The couch's cushions were tossed around the room along with Arthur's precious spell books. Several had split their bindings, and their pages were mixed into the mess. In fact, the only thing that appeared not to have been broken was the TV ( and, yes, merpeople have TVs, how else would they know what was going on in the human world?). Arthur never watched the television and Francis seldom did either; but now it was turned on to some American cartoon channel.

Arthur stood in the doorway, stunned, for a while, still holding the groceries, watching the cartoon coyote trying to catch a roadrunner on the television. Suddenly, a huge CRASH came from the kitchen that knocked Arthur out of his stupor. He dashed to the kitchen as his head whirled, Surely this isn't Fancis' idea of a joke! Why would he do that anyway? It makes no sense. Someone else must have done this and it sounds like they're still here. I'm going to catch that wanker redhanded!

When Arthur reached the kitchen he found a similar disaster to the one in the living room. His normally pristine kitchen looked like a war zone. Pots and pans had been flung everywhere, and multiple spices had spilled together in a large mound on the nearest counter. All the kitchen drawers had been opened and snooped through, their contents thrown aside. Forks, knifes, spoons, napkins and spatulas, littered the floor surrounding the boy lying on his back in the middle of the mess. It appeared he had tried to reached one of the cupboards above the oven and fell, knocking over and spilling the flour in the cupboard in the process.

The merling appeared no more than seven and was covered in the flour, giving him the appearance of a ghost. His blond hair and red and blue tail patterned with white stars, were covered in the stuff.

"Bloody hell ...." Arthur muttered before he set his bags on one of the counters not covered in kitchen ware. Arthur then rounded on the merboy, who was now standing, facing him, crying. Arthur opened his mouth to start scolding him, but closed it as he noticed the tears cutting a track through the flour covering his face. The boy's eyes were such a clear blue, a brighter hue than the Caribbean; Arthur's heart melted at those eyes. As the anger slowly drained from his system, Arthur noticed the boy seemed terribly frightened. Arthur slowly relaxed his face into a small smile as he addressed the sniveling child in front of him.

"Come now, it's alright," Arthur said as he handed the boy a napkin lying out, "dry your tears and then we can chat."

The merling fearfully took the napkin and wiped his face; slowly his tears subsided as Arthur started to talk. Arthur told him about pranks he had played on Francis, stories about the human world, and tales of pirates that hunted mermaids for their beauty and voices. Soon the boy was hanging on to his every word, and had crept up next to where Arthur sat in a kitchen chair when he had started talking. After Arthur finished telling about the pirates, he faced the young boy who was now right next to his side, listening intently.