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Amara secured her wound with the soft fabric left the night before. Now the foot was wrapped in clean, makeshift bandages. She did the same to her other as well. There was no point burning her feet on the hot sand if she could avoid it. A ship deck was different; usually, no boots made it easier to keep your purchase. So when she’d been thrown into the drink by a pale fish woman, Amara had been without any shoes at all. “She tossed me like a fucking rag doll.”
Amara checked her foot wrappings once more. The sound of monkeys and small birds filled the tiny clearing the captain had been using for shelter. Or, well, if you could call a rock slab, she leaned her back against shelter. At least any way into the small clearing was visible from the little resting spot.
With a huff and an irritated grumble, she tugged at her clothes. It was hard to ignore the scratchy sensation of the ruined fabric. Amara was no fool, and she didn’t dare waste her drinking water on them.
The woman felt a spike of pain behind her eyes that throbbed and just wouldn’t quit. It didn’t help her feel any better when her stomach clenched painfully. A hand went down, gripping the spot that was screaming at her for food. “Am I safe here?”
Mermaids weren’t supposed to be able to leave the water unless of special circumstances. The last one she’d seen, the coral-skinned creature, had been huge. One would consider her a leviathan if they went in terms of sea monsters. So maybe another human had left her the supplies.
She sighed, trying to focus as her mind was a bit hazy as well. “No matter. For now, the thing that’s clearly first: I need food.”
She rubbed the spot between her eyes, resting her head against the sun-warmed stone. “Well, I’ll just avoid the water from now on, at least up close. The beach is a great spot for food, crabs, all of it—but maybe better if I can find some plants in the bush instead.”
It was strange to hear herself talk, as when she did, the surrounding area would grow quiet and then sound would pick up again when she stopped speaking. “Seems the local wildlife isn’t used to humans at all. Mermaids can speak human tongue; I saw that yesterday. Though it seems the song is how they speak the most,” she thought, chuckling a bit and surprising herself.
It wasn’t a pleasant noise, more one of contempt. Especially when Amara realized she actually wanted paper and pen to record what she’d been experiencing. It was captain’s nature after all to keep a log of some sort. Eventually, after mulling it over just a short time, the captain used a small stone to scratch the day’s date and a small observation note on the stone wall behind her.
Amara felt the bite in her palms when she finally got up. ”You have to keep moving. Keep doing something.” A flood of faces came to mind as she finally stumbled towards the trees once more.
The night before all this happened swam behind her eyes; the smell of ale and smoke was a stark contrast to the scent of rotting fruit drifting from the shaded green ahead.
They’d been celebrating; Amara had worked with her second to find a new route. She had been careful to chart waters outside the Tideborn waters. Amara closed her eyes, shaking her head as the laughter filled her ears from the ghosts of men who had been breathing only a few days before.
“We’ll be in port before schedule! They can’t ignore our ship now!” Brada had said proudly. Only recently had some of the trade islands near the Harpsford chain began to reject them. A lot of non-fleet ships had been turned away, especially those who didn’t carry sea scar hunters.
Amara had refused such an idea; while it was true such men were skilled, they could be callous, greedy, and cruel. A monster may be a monster, but being gleeful while it screamed and was gutted alive wasn’t a way Amara wanted to live in this world.
She sure as hell didn’t want someone like that on her ship. Not to mention they were often paid directly by the Harpsford Royal court, something else she didn’t want near her ship.
The woman grunted, feeling a sharp rock through the wrappings on her foot. She was grateful to have any protection; dealing with stones without something would have been unbearable.
“Maybe I was wrong; our ship protections did nothing. They stepped out of the damn fog. Shouldn’t a worshiper of the Mother of the Sea have done something?”
At least them being on deck made sense; it was storming. The storms and rain grant access to things like that for them. That didn’t explain last night, though. Amara hesitated, glancing around herself. She’d been so lost in thought, the jungle had all but consumed her. Thankfully, she could see the bright sand just beyond the trees ahead.
“Well, other than letting myself wander, at least I know where I am,” she thought tiredly. Amara started to scan the area, trying to ignore the nagging thoughts. Usually she at least had someone else to speak to, though speaking out loud seemed to help a bit.
“From what an old friend taught me, if a woman won’t leave the surf, it’s usually a Tideborn. They have to keep their feet wet to even look human, except the day the Earth Mother granted them yearly.”
The warm sea breeze helped pull the captain from her thoughts as her foot brushed against something. The sand just along the edge of the trees was filled with small, sprawling plants with broad leaves and red stalks.
Purslane.
The soft sand pillowed her knees as she dropped to the ground. Amara didn’t hesitate to draw the knife. At this point, it didn’t matter where it came from, only that it could be useful. Carefully, she cut away stalks of the plant, piling them up close by.
Amara stepped out properly onto the beach for a moment. She did so only to gather from a bush; a lucky find was the sea grapes that weighed the branches down. They’d be a bit tangy and sweet, but it would help her keep strength along with the purslane.
“So that’s something for food, and I saw some rotten logs earlier; protein may be an option too. Still, I don’t think I was close enough to the water earlier for the mermaids to reach me,” she thought, feeling a growing pit of anxiety in her stomach. With a huff she tried to focus on the task at hand again. ”Well, I’ll try for some crabs later; for now it’s about quick energy to gain some strength.”
“So am I truly alone on this island? Is someone trying to help me that got trapped too? Or do the Tideborn want something from me, and if so, how the fuck did they leave the water…”
A short while later, Amara sat down at the edge of the treeline. She’d found a downed log and, as luck would have it, several breadfruits. Many had been overripe, but a couple were good enough to bring back with her, along with a piece of cloth filled with larva from the log.
She shuddered as she downed the bugs first. Protein was important, and she figured getting the worst of the food out of the way quickly would be better.
The starchy sweetness of the breadfruit made her groan, followed by the tangy sea grape that made her tongue dry and tingle. “If this island weren’t a death trap, these could go for good trade. I’ve never seen fruit so large, even the sea grape. Nan, you would have had me shaking the bushes for this. Your jam was always my favorite,” she muttered.
The beach was laid out before her; splintered wood jutted from the sand not too far off. She could just see the tops of it over a small dune.
“I can try and find some goods on the beach... I guess I can run if I see anything. Even if they walk the land, you can’t hide in the open like that.” She looked down at the knife at her waist, “and I have better chances on land than they do. Plus a weapon.”
Amara’s stomach churned at the thought of being seen, but she got up anyway. If there was a person on the island, she’d know soon enough. If it was the Tideborn playing with her, well, she had been already marked for death like her crew.
The humming song of the mermaids thrummed against the human’s skin as she padded across the beach. The strange notes of the song and the food on her belly seemed to wash away the headache.
She’d heard the songs at a distance, but this was intense, ever constant, and stronger the closer she got to the water. Amara could never really guess how many voices were singing. “I’ve seen mermaids in groups before, but never felt like so many were in one place…”
The song was punctuated by nature; birds and animals seemed to make noise like they would normally. The sleek but clumsy auk squawked and chattered not too far away. In fact, as she got closer to the middle of the beach, she could see a rocky spot towards the end of the stretch of sand.
“Ah, good, a nesting spot, probably. Auk are big, but pretty much without water they’re harmless. I can grab some eggs later; just gotta remember to leave some behind.”
Amara found that she glanced towards the sea very often. There was no movement amongst the waves. However, the broken masts and the skeletons of ships that filled the water beyond the beach gave the island woman pause.
“How many vessels left their corpses here?” She saw the shattered remains littered out beyond the shallows. There were everything from trade vessels to slave ships. The Mercy’s Wake hadn’t seen anything like it when they had taken the route skirting these waters.
“They must be using magic to hide it. The whole island is a trap.” The sand scattered around her feet as she tried to reach the driftwood pile faster. “If they can hide a graveyard of ships, what more can they do? I was told they could do inhuman magic. I was even told they could capture your heart by song, but now I don’t know what’s true.”
Before the captain now stood a tangled mess. Netting was wrapped and torn by old wood. So she started trying to untangle it. The thing was large enough; she eventually just cut a nice-sized piece. Amara rolled it into a round package and set it aside. Moving around as quick as she could, the captain often paused to glance at the quiet surf. “Today is a good day to be paranoid…”
She pushed aside splintering and mollusk-covered pieces of wood. A thick heat beat against her from above as an unpleasant, sour smell wafted up from the salvage. The captain pushed onwards, clearing space to reach for something she spotted sticking out underneath a crate.
Peace, good food, hope, hunt. The song whispered at the back of her mind as a plank is shoved aside.
Her hand froze, hovering over a crate top covered in deep gashes and claw marks. It had been pried open, revealing liquor bottles nestled into the box.
She took a shuddering breath and glanced over her shoulder again.
”Guess humans aren’t the only ones who like a good drink.” Pulling out a brown bottle with a cork, she laid it on the sand next to the netting. “Almost there; just a bit longer and I can get back to the treeline.”
Finally, with a last grunt, Amara uncovered the corner of a piece of canvas sail.” Yes!” She growled with triumph, knowing just how valuable this could be. A blanket, shelter from the rain,all that came to mind. “Once I have some cover, I can rest,” she mumbled, feeling a bit odd speaking out loud so exposed. However, it seemed that the Tideborn were showing no interest or were currently busy. The song hadn’t changed so far, at least.
Her new blade hummed softly in her fist as she hacked away at the edge of the canvas. The woman paused to look down at the blade, etched with markings like seaweed. It cut through the thick fabric like it was nothing. “Magic. I know it was enchanted, but this... I wonder what else you can do?”
She quickly tucked her blade back into the sheath and wrestles the cloth free, starting to roll it up to take back into the treeline with her. As she pulled it up, a hand brushed against something wet and an awful smell filled her nostrils. “Uehh, what the fuck?!”
When another tug uncovered a boot sticking out of the sand, she felt herself gag. The ragged end of flesh and bone stuck out of the top of the algae-crusted object. “Spirits protect me, I hope it wasn’t someone I knew.” Covering her face with her arm, she backed off, dropping the canvas as she doubled over and emptied her lunch onto the sand.
Amara breathed heavily, feeling the sweat trickle down her face and neck when she heard the sudden punctuation of the island’s song. A shift that was echoed by countless calls and voices before calming once more.
“That can’t be good. I want as much distance between me and those things as I can get.” Tucking the netting under her arm first because it was lighter, she grabbed a wine bottle after laying a length of rope beside the canvas.
She fully intended to return for it when things calmed down. The captain had just taken her first few steps back the way she came when something white catches her eye.
She froze, her breath hitching. She could feel her chest rising and falling quickly, but the rest of her was as still as a statue. Her eyes stared wide at a lone figure in a white dress. The woman was about twenty feet away. Her head was framed by damp red hair like fire that shifted in the breeze.
The young lady looked totally human, her feet firmly planted in the sand. She was dressed in a thin, layered dress, but it hid nothing. Her breasts and every curve was clearly visible through the thin, flowing fabric. With the woman’s pale skin and freckles, not to mention her hair color.
The redhead must have come from the Harpsford port or the mainland. Though there was another option, and that made the captain wonder if she would throw up again with how much her stomach twisted at the thought.
The young woman didn’t meet the darker woman’s gaze, instead keeping her eyes cast downward. She gripped her arm, digging her nails in, and bit her lip.
Amara had the items she’d grabbed tucked against her with one arm, the cold bite of the bottle keeping her grounded. Slowly, a hand reached for the knife tucked into her sash.
A sharp note of song burst from the ocean deep and echoing. The pale woman’s head snapped up, and she stared at Amara. Deep green eyes met soft brown ones. The warning call faded, but it was clear that the other woman knew Amara’s intent if she came too close.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,Tideborn! Tideborn on land!” Amara’s thoughts shrieked in her skull as she watched the other woman take a step back. Her eyes darted down to the captain’s waist, where her hand hovered close to the knife secured there.
Amara knew after a moment when she finally looked at her properly. It was the redheaded creature from the water pool.
“You... can walk on land,” she whispered, suddenly winded, her eyes flicking towards the jungle. The other woman looked away again and sighed. “Go. It’s okay; I don’t want to hurt you...” Amara recognized how fluid the redhead’s trade speak was, but at the moment that was the least of her worries.
The captain moved carefully, keeping her distance and hand on her knife hilt, but she doesn’t draw it. “Stay where you are! What do you want?”
She asked, keeping the girl in sight. The song that envelops the island began to pick up pace, setting Amara on edge. Other than to turn her head to watch her, the redhead didn’t move. “I was told I need to feed... so my queen’s maidens... they didn’t hurt you,” she said softly, her voice just breaking above the sound of the waves.
Amara didn’t wait to hear more; stumbling backwards, she turned last minute, running back into the waiting treeline.
Authors NoteWe did it everyone! we have our first mermaid encounter. Id love to hear what you think or where you belive the story may be headed ! Please comment below and share ! Dont forget to like !