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John Smith tried to close his eyes and rest between the pillows and cushions of the bed, but it was no use. Even though the cabin’s windows and doors were tightly shut, something seemed to disturb him… but what could it be?
“Oh, for God's sake!” he exclaimed, throwing the blankets off and sitting up abruptly. “I can't take this anymore… It’s been a week since I last had a decent night's sleep!” his voice tinged with anger.
Though John's reaction seemed a bit explosive, he knew exactly the main reason behind his sleepless nights. Oh, he knew all too well. The captain just didn’t want to admit it.
“It’s all because of that…” he hesitated, disbelief etched across his face as if the realization still hadn’t fully sunk in. John clenched his teeth and gripped the quilt tightly. “Mermaid. Or whatever that mysterious woman was. I just can’t get her out of my mind since the day I saw her.”
He sighed in boredom, as though he were longing to see her again. Smith got up from the bed, walked over to one of the windows, and opened it. The full moon was at its peak in a star-studded sky, with only a few clouds scattered around. The vastness of the sea and sky was all he could see through the opening, along with the chill of the night air that swept inside the room. He took a deep breath, fully aware that he was alone with his thoughts.
“Who were you, really? Were you even real, or just a mirage born of my mind? And why… why haven’t you appeared again?” he questioned aloud, as though he were genuinely addressing someone and demanding answers. “This… this shouldn’t be troubling me this much.”
John ran his fingers through his blond hair as if trying to dispel the persistent thoughts of her figure.
“The worst part is, I can’t forget her… I can’t forget a single detail,” he admitted, closing his eyes as the memories resurfaced. “I can’t forget how she saved me when I was walking toward certain death. Against everything I’ve ever heard or been told about sirens, even when I intended to shoot her.”
His tired, heavy blue eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
“And now, what do I do?” John whispered, lost. It was as if what he had witnessed had grown into an overwhelming, unreciprocated feeling in his chest. A feeling that, in truth, would never be fulfilled—she was gone. “This affliction… I doubt any physician could cure it,” he added, with a bitter, ironic laugh.
Smith went to a wooden chest hidden beneath the writing table in his cabin. He pulled the heavy object closer and opened it. Inside, a jumble of maps, precious stones, jewelry, and navigation tools lay scattered—a collection of treasures he had accumulated during his voyages. However, among them all, John picked up a wooden comb. It bore floral carvings etched into the handle, with two small, seemingly turquoise gemstones embedded at the tip and base. It was exquisite, the result of meticulous craftsmanship. He closed the chest and carried the comb with him, returning next to the bed before collapsing into a hammock strung across the room, its ends secured to two hooks in the ship's walls.
“If only I knew your name…” he whispered, running his fingers along the hairbrush as he gazed at it contemplatively, perhaps even sorrowfully. I can't tell the crew about this; they'd never believe me—let alone the Governor. They’d surely think me a lunatic. He thought this as the hammock swayed gently back and forth. I need to express this somehow, or I'll never find peace.
“But how?” John glanced around the place, searching for an answer. “Of course!”
He rose from the hammock and walked over to the writing table at the center of the room. Sitting in the cushioned chair, he opened the drawer to his left and pulled out a small notebook. Its leather cover, stitched together with poorly done black thread, was dusty and with a few cobwebs clinging to the spine.
“This doesn’t have to be a logbook, so it’s fine if it’s something simpler,” he muttered, brushing the dust from the cover with his hand. He flipped through the notebook, noting its blank, untouched pages. Perfect. I’ll make this my journal, and record all my experiences here. John looked at the diary with a faint smile.
Ready to begin, he opened the drawer to his right and retrieved a goose quill from a cluster of identical ones. He sharpened the tip with a pen knife before dipping it into an inkwell.
“Well… where do I begin?” he wondered aloud, staring at the empty page for a moment. “I’ll try to recall as much as I can from that day and write everything in a continuous timeline… Let’s hope this works.” He chuckled nervously.
This is the story of how I encountered a mermaid. The tales the sailors shared with me weren’t lies after all—or at least, not in those lands.
It happened shortly after we disembarked in Virginia a few months ago, during the first weeks. It was on a Saturday if memory serves me right… after days spent navigating rivers and trekking through dense forests alongside other settlers. We were following Governor Ratcliffe’s orders to ‘gather a first impression’ of the area’s fauna, flora, and terrain—a standard protocol for every expedition. Then, on a Friday, I decided to venture out on my own.
Some in the camp questioned my decision, but I had no grand explanation to give; I simply wanted to explore alone. I suppose it’s because, when I’m by myself, I don’t bear the responsibility of protecting or leading others should any danger arise. It’s easier and more peaceful this way, as any misfortune would affect only me. I know that witnessing death is an all-too-common occurrence for sailors like us, but I wouldn’t want to carry the burden of someone else’s life lost under my watch.
As I entered one of the many nature reserves on those grounds, it felt like stepping into a labyrinth. Despite my experience with venturing into such places, it was of little help there. The vegetation and the animals I spotted, even those hiding in the foliage, were utterly unlike anything I’d seen before. Truly remarkable! This is what makes adventure so exhilarating for me: every day, on every journey, there’s always something new. That’s why I can never bring myself to decline offers from the Companies that seek me out. I spent the entire day wandering in and out of the woods, encountering unfamiliar animals, and crossing streams. I remember that by late afternoon, I had climbed to the peak of a mountain to watch the sunset. It was breathtaking—more than that, it was astonishing. How could such a stunning landscape exist? It was like glancing at a masterful painting. I concluded that everything in Virginia was far more fascinating than anything London could offer.
When I tried to make my way back to the lodge, night had already fallen, and it became impossible to see my compass or follow any trails. I decided to spend the night near a creek, but between the eerie sounds of the forest, my instinct to stay alert for any imminent threats—whether from natives or wild animals—and the relentless swarms of mosquitoes, I couldn’t get any proper rest.
The following day, I was determined to find my way back to camp, no matter the cost. After all, I could always return to explore again, couldn’t I? Of course, I was sure the Governor would keep sending me to survey these places until I couldn’t stand the sight of another leaf.
That morning, however, something unusual happened. A small animal appeared, seemingly following me, and I doubt it was a mere coincidence. Its fur was gray with patches of black, and it had four legs and small, beady eyes—a raccoon. At first, the sight of it rustling through the bushes startled me, and I reflexively raised my rifle. It could have been a danger, and I wasn’t about to die in that place. Not a chance. I was alone, in an uninhabitable, hard-to-reach area with no living soul nearby. I doubted anyone would bother to look for my body if something happened. But as the creature emerged from the leaves and stepped into the beams of light filtering through the canopy of those towering trees, I saw it was just a harmless little animal. Relieved, I lowered my rifle and returned it to its holster.
“Phew… You gave me quite a scare there, little guy,” I muttered.
It was clear the raccoon felt cornered, hesitant to come closer. Understandable—if someone were pointing a firearm at me, I’d probably react the same way. Not wanting to leave him in such a state, I knelt, rummaged through my bag, and pulled out some biscuits to offer to my ‘little friend.’
“Here, do you want this?” I said, holding the biscuit out toward him, trying to coax him closer. “It’s food! You can trust me.”
With lightning-fast reflexes, he snatched the cookie from my hand and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. I laughed so hard my stomach ached.
“Well, it looks like you enjoyed that, huh? I used to like these too, but after eating them every single day for four months straight, the magic kind of wore off.”
I left a few more biscuits on the ground before continuing my journey through the maze of the forest, compass in hand, still trying to find my way back.
“You again? Look, the snacks are gone. The ones I gave you were the last of them.”
The little creature had been trailing me the entire way, and I hadn’t even noticed. Suddenly, he raised his front paws to his ears.
“Huh? Are you… trying to tell me something?” I asked, intrigued. He nodded in response.
“Wow, you’re one smart little guy. Alright, let’s play charades, then. Is it something about… ears?”
He shook his head no, made a motion in the air that looked like waves, and then pointed back to his ears.
“Hm… river? Stream?” He nodded again.
“That’s it! And the ears… sound? The sound of the river!”
The raccoon nodded once more, confirming my guess. It was only then that I noticed the faint sound of water rushing over rocks—like a waterfall—was much closer than I’d realized.
“Are you trying to take me somewhere near a river?” I asked.
He nodded again and began walking north, taking the lead. I suppose I should have questioned why I was following a wild animal, especially one that seemed to be communicating with me—albeit indirectly. But, exhausted from the terrible night I’d endured, I decided to let the circumstances guide me. With every step forward, the sound of rushing water grew louder, until we finally reached the base of a waterfall surrounded by jagged stones.
“The river… is it beyond this waterfall?”
The raccoon gave me one final nod before disappearing into the mist.
I thought that finding a flowing stream might help me somehow locate a path back to camp—any path would do at that point. So, I jumped onto the rocks and carefully made my way across the waterfall until I reached a clearing on the other side. The branches of an ancient-looking willow tree draped over much of the area like a natural curtain.
Suddenly, as I knelt at the riverbank to splash water on my face, I noticed movement in the water. At first, I dismissed it, assuming it was just a fish or some other unknown creature. However, things started to feel unsettling when the motion was repeated multiple times.
Something dark, with the texture of hair, began to rise slowly to the surface… then a forehead… and finally, a pair of deep, dark brown eyes—just the upper half of a face. Startled, I was taken aback before quickly standing and raising my rifle, this time with absolute intent to fire. It must be an Indian, I thought. They must have noticed my movements in the area since yesterday... Either way, I won’t let them attack me!
The figure kept moving through the water, and my stare followed its every shift. My heartbeat quickened as I edged closer to the riverbank, stepping partially into the current to get a better line of sight. I couldn’t afford to miss it. Taking a deep breath, I held it, steadied my aim, and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot tore through the silence, echoing across the clearing, startling nearby birds into a chaotic flurry of wings.
“Blast it! I can’t see anything with this thick mist,” I whispered rudely.
I concluded that I had missed my shot since the waters remained undisturbed, and no one surfaced.
“Whoever you are, show yourself!” I shouted into the fog. “Hiding behind those stones won’t help you! A bullet is far quicker than any arrow…”
As I adjusted the gun to take another shot, a silhouette took shape atop the rocks. Through the scope, I discerned it was a woman; her long hair swirled in the wind. But what I saw below her waist left me rooted in place. Instead of legs, there was the body of a fish and two fins moving gracefully.
The mist began to dissipate slowly, and I remember blinking repeatedly, as though I could erase the illogical vision before me. The shock was so intense that my hands lost their grip, and I dropped the gun onto the grass.
“A… a Siren? Impossible…”
The moment our eyes met, a strange sensation coursed through me. It was as if a spark of fire had been lit inside me, followed by a shiver that made me hold my breath for several seconds. She was spectacular, seated regally upon the stone.
From the waist up, her hair was as black as the deepest night, and her full lips bore a striking shade of red. She had a small nose and a subtly defined jawline, lending balance to her face. A tattoo adorned her left arm, and small red flowers were carefully tucked into her hair, adding detail. Her bust was covered by seaweed interwoven with various pearls, tightly secured to her body. This surprised me, as the tales I’d heard claimed mermaids rarely covered their torsos—or that their long hair served this purpose.
But the lower half of her… that was even more surreal. Her scales shimmered in a soft red hue, and her fins sparkled as though they captured the sunlight with every subtle movement. The natural glow was impossible to miss, harmonizing perfectly with her bronzed skin, which seemed to absorb and reflect light.
And finally, her eyes locked onto mine, holding me captive in a vision that felt like an eternity. There was a firmness, an intensity so magnetic that I felt… small in her presence. In that gaze, I understood there was nothing I could do. Any attempt to act would be futile. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was a force of nature, something far beyond my comprehension. That mermaid did not belong to this world—it was clear. Yet something in her gaze and unusual beauty made me forget all of that. She didn’t need a hypnotic song to draw me closer; I believe that from the first moment our eyes met, I was already caught in whatever spell she had cast.
Then, I removed my helmet, satchel, and my dagger, setting them on the ground beside the rifle, as a gesture of peace. I no longer wanted her to think I bore violent intentions. Not anymore.
“Who… who are you?” I asked, wading slowly through the river, trying to reach her. Her relentless gaze followed my every step, and the closer I got, the further she retreated.
“Uh… Can you understand me?”
A torrent of emotion surged within me as I attempted to approach her. Was it longing? Passion? I needed to know where she came from, to ask if she was truly a siren or if I was simply losing my mind. And there was the aching desire to touch her—to feel that radiant skin, to confirm if this dazzling vision was real.
“See? I’m not carrying any weapons anymore. I won’t hurt you. And… forgive me for shooting at you. I thought you were a threat!”
Her expression shifted to one of reproach as I said this, and her eyes bore into mine with a blend of disdain and disappointment. I couldn’t fully understand her response, so I chose to ignore it and pressed forward. But just as I got close enough to the rock, she fled. She slipped into the current and disappeared beneath its surface.
“Don’t go! Wait, please…”
But how could I ignore what had just happened? I needed to speak with her—not just because of the strange feeling that had sprung up between us, but because she was a living legend. Literally. I needed answers, and I wouldn’t give up until I got them.
Without much thought, I dove into the river, swimming westward in the direction she had vanished. I went to the bottom, surfaced, and dove again, searching in every direction. I even fought against the flow in case she had gone the opposite way, but there was no trace of her.
Finally, exhausted and frustrated, I had to accept the truth: she was gone. Finding her was impossible. After swimming for so long, my legs began to fail, going numb. To make matters worse, rain began to fall, and the river's current grew stronger. I was far from the riverbank, being dragged under more and more with each passing moment. Panic gripped me as I thrashed against the water, but my strength was decreasing. The pain in my muscles rendered me unable to continue.
They say that offending a mermaid brings bad luck—or even natural disasters. Perhaps this was true. Perhaps I was paying the price for shooting at her.
As the current pulled me deeper, my struggle for survival gave way to a strange resignation. I stopped fighting and let the river take me, sinking like a stone. When I closed my eyes and unconsciousness began to claim me, I felt no fear. I accepted my ‘death.’ My life had been full of mistakes, marked by questionable decisions—and others not so questionable. Still, lives have been lost because of me. Maybe this was my fate, an inevitable reckoning.
The next thing I recall is coughing violently, my lungs burning as consciousness slowly returned. When I finally opened my eyes, there she was, staring back at me. Even with my blurred vision, I recognized my savior. Her eyes were fixed on mine, filled with concern and apprehension. Still, I could see a flicker of relief in her expression as she realized I was alive.
“You… you saved me. Why didn’t you let me die?” I spoke, my voice hoarse and broken between coughs, my confusion plain. “I tried to kill you. Don’t you remember? I was… a terrible human being, just like I’ve been to anyone different from me.”
I didn’t say it with pride. Not at all. Shame laced my words. Somehow, experiencing being saved by someone I had tried to kill had opened my mind. She kept her eyes firmly on me, silent, and I couldn’t look away from her—not even for a moment.
“I don’t know if you understand me, but… I’m sorry. I will be forever grateful that you saved my life.”
She smiled, and without realizing it, I smiled back.
“Can you speak?” I asked hesitantly. “I… I’d like to know more about you. What’s your name? Are you some kind of guardian of these lands?”
She nodded slightly, and a strange sense of joy filled me.
“Incredible!”
I was overwhelmed with happiness at finding a way to communicate with her. Summoning my strength, I sat up beside her at the river’s edge. That’s when I discovered I was missing my chest plate and shirt, and my rifle and dagger had disappeared. Oddly, none of that seemed important at the moment.
As I stared at her, curiosity consuming me, I caught a glimmer of confusion in her gaze.
“Wow… so you really do exist.”
She watched me intensely, while I struggled to contain the astonishment in my voice.
“I always thought you were just sailor’s scuttlebutt. But you’re nothing like the stories I’ve heard. No magical singing, no danger. The only threat here… was me.”
When her cheeks flushed, something inside me softened. Without warning, she leaned closer, and my heart jumped a beat.
“W-What are you doing?” I stammered, trying to keep my composure. “Ah… found me handsome, have you?” I joked, more to ease my tension than anything else.
Even though the desire to kiss her consumed me, I had no idea how she would react. What if she, unlike the sirens from the stories I’d heard, saw such an act as an insult? One wrong move could awaken her wrath—not just against me, but possibly against everyone who came with me. And the last thing I wanted was to provoke the fury of a woman connected to the forces of nature. Did I know what those powers were? No, and I still don’t. Fear held me back, so I swallowed my yearning and resigned, even though it left me restless.
“You… you’re so gorgeous,” I let slip, though it was the truth. I had already surrendered, and its intensity terrified me. How could everything have happened so quickly?
Without warning, she took my hands and raised them, her touch carrying a strange intensity. What did she want from me, after all? My fingers intertwined with hers before I could react, and my heart began to race. Her eyes closed as if searching for something beyond the visible, while the world around us seemed suspended in time. I waited, uncertain, glancing between the surroundings and her angelic face.
The silence was broken by the same animal from before, emerging with an object in its paws.
“You! He guided me here,” I said, pointing at the raccoon. She gave me a look that clearly said, “I know.”
“Cummeish yoowah, Meeko,” she whispered in an incomprehensible language. The raccoon approached confidently and placed an object into my hands.
For the first time, the mermaid spoke, but her voice was so soft I could barely make out a word, let alone understand it. I didn’t question her or ask her to repeat it. It was clear now why she hadn’t answered my earlier questions—I wouldn’t have understood anyway.
I glanced down at the object in my hands: a comb. Crafted from carved wood with delicate floral engravings along the handle, it was beautiful. The teeth were precise, and at the top and bottom of the hairbrush were two small blue stones that appeared to be turquoise. I still keep it to this day, a reminder of that moment.
“Huh… is this a gift?”
She nodded.
“Did you make it?”
Another nod.
“Well, since it’s a mermaid’s comb, I hope it has some kind of magic! Like… styling my hair automatically? Otherwise, I’ll return it!”
I risked a joke, hoping to make her laugh, and I succeeded. Oh, that laugh… I could listen to it forever.
“Thank you. I’ll treasure it, I promise.”
Before she disappeared, she tilted her head slightly toward me—a gesture that seemed to be a form of gratitude. Then, she slipped back into the stream. When I concluded that she was truly gone, an emptiness settled inside me. I stood there for a long time, staring at the water’s surface, trying to process everything that had just happened. At some point, I noticed that the raccoon had also vanished, darting back into the forest.
“Okay… that was the most absurd experience I’ve ever had as a sailor. Absolutely madness.” I looked at the comb for a while, thinking of her.
I eventually put on my shirt, boots, and slung my bag over my shoulder, returning to the journey back to camp. Strangely, it seemed easier this time. A breeze seemed to guide me, subtly directing my compass.
In the days that followed, I returned to the waterfall, to the same spot in the clearing, hoping she would appear again. But she didn’t. No matter how long I called or waited, no one came. Not even the raccoon showed up, and this continued for an entire month before I gave up.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget her—and I still haven’t. Sometimes, I even use the comb she gave me on my hair… though it feels a bit strange.
Now, with half the crew preparing to return to London, all I want is for her to fade from my mind, to rid myself of her. There’s no reason or sense in holding onto an impossible love, one that has no chance of ever becoming real.
After writing those final words, John placed the quill back into the inkpot and closed the journal, tucking it away in the left drawer of the writing table.
“I think I feel better now,” he muttered, though the sigh that escaped his lips was more weighted with sorrow than relief. “Or maybe not? By the sea, what a brilliant idea—to relive it all!”
With an impatient gesture, he ran his hands through his hair again, trying to soothe the irritation brewing within him. Rising from his chair, he walked over to the window. The night sky was no longer adorned with stars or the moon, but instead with the first light of dawn, casting hues of gold and rose across the clouds.
“I can’t believe I’m about to do this…” he said, letting out a bitter laugh. He closed his eyes, his expression hardening as if surrendering to some greater force. “Be it God, some entity of nature, or something beyond… I just ask for one thing: let me see her again. Just once. Just for a moment. I can’t keep living on memories alone…”
His voice dissolved into a whisper, and silent tears began to streak down his pale face. John hastily wiped them away with the back of his hand, then reached for the comb resting on the hammock. He stared at it for a lingering moment before returning it to the wooden chest.
“Enough daydreaming.” He said to himself, drawing in a deep breath. “I’ve got an entire crew to lead.”
Straightening his posture, he opened the door and allowed the morning light to flood into the cabin before stepping outside, leaving the room behind.