A Series of Short Stories

Daughter of the Sea

Mermaids, merrow, morgen, nereids, selkies, iara, marakihau, rusalka, finfolk, sirens: whatever you choose to call them, they are the ladies of the waves. They are found in cultures all across the world and have many stories of their origins. Some cultures revere them as deities. Others hunt them for their power, either from fear or out of greed. No matter where they originate from or how they are received, the ocean welcomes all her children into her embrace.

Zosime was told the story of the mermaids by her mother. Her mother, Aminta was one that revered the wave dwellers as deities. Aminta would swear she had seen a mermaid when she was but a few years old and that it is thanks to this creature she is alive today.

Zosime had listened to the tales of the merfolk every night before bed up until the day her mother passed from illness. She would never forget her mother's last words to her.

"Fear not for the future my dear, for you shall see me within the foam of the waves and the reflection of the sun upon the water. In death all men return to the earth, but all women are welcomed by the sea."

It had been a few years since her mother's death and those words stuck with her. She grew up by the ocean and the smell of salt spray was a familiar one. Whenever she felt overwhelmed or alone, she would stand at the water's edge, listening to the crashing of the waves and watching the foam dance upon the shore. The ocean called to her just as it did her mother.

Her mother had been an audacious woman and was revered by those who met her. Often, she would tell Zosime tales from her youth. Tales of her mother disguising herself as a man and sailing with navy men and pirates alike all across the world. She had seen jungles and swamps, desserts, and mountains. Stories of strange beasts that towered above trees and giant cats that ran faster than horses.

Her tales filled her daughter with longing. A longing for adventure. the thrill that comes with venturing into the wide unknown. Zosime never would have thought her adventure would end like this. The smell of the salt spay that once comforted her now suffocated her and the waves roiled above her.

***

Zosime woke to the sound of men shouting and the ships hull groaning in protest. The hollow thudding of waves against wood echoed all around her. The howling of the wind nearly drowned out the shouted orders of the quartermaster above on deck.

"Get those sales up ya damn bilge rats!" the commanding voice of the captain rose well above the roaring of the storm outside.

Zosime jumped to her feet, grabbing her worn out brown leather boots and shuffling them on. Her short hair was secured with a strip of leather and her chest bound down with bandages below her stained crème shirt. A bit of old rope secured the oversized breeches around her waist and the dirt on her face and the bags beneath her eyes helped hide her delicate features.

This was the first storm they had hit while being out at sea for a week now. She had joined a privateer ship just before it left port. It had taken her a year and a half to get to a port town. She may have grown up next to the sea, but her village was small and did not have any international naval connections.

Zosime thundered up the stairs to the main deck, bursting out through the thin wooden door and opening her ears fully to the chaos above.

The rain was coming down in thick sheets, thunder roared overhead, and jagged shots of lightning lit the sky for only moments at a time. The waves were hitting the hull and tilting the ship near tipping.

The sails on the fore and main masts had been successfully secured but the men were having troubles with the sails of the mizzenmast. Zosime began to run towards them to lend her aid when, faster than a blink, lightning struck the mizzen and the topgallant sail caught fire. one of the men up on the rigging fell to the deck, screaming as he landed roughly on his leg. The other fell but caught himself on the roped ladder halfway down, harshly pulling his arm from its socket with a pop almost as loud as the thunder overhead.