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The merman thought he had a pretty good handle on geography – what with traversing the whole globe, the many connected oceans in their wonders and vast expanses, one had to.
The stars helped, of course, especially for locations he knew, special anchors in his heart on his long journeys.
Sometimes, though, you hear tell of a shipwreck and a vague location from an acquaintance, and set out to find it yourself…only to find it far deeper than you were told.
Despite being surrounded on almost all sides by land, the Mediterranean Sea was deceptively deep – to his kind, an ocean in its own right, host to some of the less far-faring members. The rich diversity of humans on the surrounding shores – cultures ancient and modern at the same time, a delicious range of tongues to hear, sounds to find, all sorts of individuals to watch – meant that for those of his kind that held onto a sort of love for the land, the sea was a sort of best of both worlds.
Indeed, with the way his kind walked above when they were young, hundreds of cultures that lived with and loved the water meant healthy grounds to leave and raise one’s rare and precious children.
Granted, this merman had fallen in love on the land in a different way, a whole half a planet away, but this was still a more than worthy destination on his travels, rich with treasures and stories to bring back to his human lady.
But this still left the situation at hand: allegedly, he was hovering over the right space, but the seafloor was many, many fathoms lower than he thought it would be.
His kind did not fear the depths, but the extra pressure required extra exertion in one’s muscles, especially one’s tail. After the long trip here, he mused that it might take a bit of rest before he’d feel up to the descent.
Until he heard a different sort of maybe-companion in the distance.
The familiar whistle was not an uncommon call to catch on the currents all over the world – and said whistler, if they were willing, could coincidentally sometimes be a good help for his current situation.
With a few beats of his tail, he headed in that direction, eyes scanning along the surface as he angled upwards. The Mediterranean sun overhead was bright, the days long and summery, so this close to the surface had remarkable visibility.
He saw the whistler soon, taking a breath of air and making a smooth arc, back toward the depths.
So he fluttered his tail faster to keep up.
Another few moments, and he was alongside – the whale stopped, drifting in the water column, pointy snout pointing his way, head tilted sideways inquisitively.
The fact that the whistler didn’t leave was a good sign.
The merman offered it a smile – whether whales and their ilk recognized smiles, he wasn’t sure, but it seemed to project the right sort of sentiment – and slowly reached out, palm glowing and fingers splayed wide.
Slowly, the whale drifted closer, then tapped its beak-shaped face against his hand.
Silently, he projected his request: a companion, headed to the darkness below. This sort of whale, he knew, dove deep, and were usually quite amiable for a passenger.
Helpfully, the whale seemed to accept the request, angling a little bit to show him its wide back.
He still made sure to be extra gentle as he placed both palms on either side of its long, tubelike body, his tail fluke down by its tiny dorsal fin, and latched his hands into place.
With the thickness of its skin and insulating blubber, the whale didn’t even seem to really notice, still idling in wait.
Apparently, this was an extremely polite whale.
So, with a silent laugh, the merman projected a gentle sort of suggestion.
ready / safe / let’s go!
The whale seemed to understand, flicking its tail with a smooth, powerful kick, and nose-diving down.
The merman drifted along, stomach and tail muscles limp and relaxed, letting his friend-elevator do the diving.
This was, indeed, much gentler on him than doing the dive alone.
And the whale was quite speedy, all things considered – they were very quickly in the dark, far darker than any human eye would be able to see.
And, a few minutes later, darker than the merman’s eyes were equipped for too.
He could still sense the change in the pressure, rippling like powerful strokes down the sides of his tail, feeling the thickness of the water around them in the firmness crush-pushing on the cavities of his nose and cheeks.
Carefully, he let go with one hand, and willed his palm to glow.
The depths were thick too, a heavy darkness, barely lit by the tiny rainbow-glowing circle, even at the brightest he could manage.
So, maybe, this helpful whale might know a thing or two.
He affectionately rubbed its back to get its attention, then crawled his way closer to its head.
Images like this were a bit more of a challenge than general feelings – for all their alien wisdom, a whale was still a completely different sort of creature. They couldn’t ‘speak’ back in the same way, any more than a horse or dog might speak to a human.
And he didn’t quite have a firm image in mind – he’d hope this whale might be worldly enough to get his meaning through vague suggestions.
humans – travel – ship / dead
deep-lost / from above
here?
The merman could not tell whether the whale understood, but it did do a sudden spin, no longer descending, instead speeding along horizontal-parallel with the surface.
Whether he’d spooked it with suggestions of humans, or some other concern, he could not be sure…
Until, in the outer edges of the glow and aided by his extremely keen dark vision, he spotted it.
The whale gave a cheerful series of chirps, as if proud of its discovery.
He let go and swam forward, til he was drifting by its face. With an appreciative smile, he nuzzled his forehead against the whale’s snout, hands to its cheeks, projecting thanks and joy and love.
That seemed to get through fine: the whale whistled again happily, bumped its snout back into his face, then turned away. Another few strong flicks of its tail sending deep, slow-motion ripples over his body, and the merman’s friend was gone again into the gloom.
His friend-elevator back to its own business, he activated both palms, raising his arms high and swimming forward.
The wreck was wood, but the depths had petrified it in time. A long, sweeping curve, square holes along its length, huge oars out each one of them, a strong mast up the middle.
The mast itself was snapped in two, upper part at an angle with the point stabbed into the silty seafloor. With a cautious arc – such wrecks could be treacherous, structurally as well as for whatever else might have claimed them as home – he headed to inspect the other side.
It was clear why it had sunk: the middle portion of the other side had the oars splintered, side-boards shattered inward.
He’d heard tell of the ancient battles humans had waged on the surface of this sea, ships ramming each other to death like bull whales battling over mates in the tropics.
Carefully, he dove down toward that breach – it would do as an entry point.
In the gloom of the ship’s below-decks, his palm-glow was a bit more effective. The smaller space, even so deep, swallowed the lights less hungrily than the endless black around him outside.
The sight, however, was far more grim than the outer surfaces of the deck had suggested, going from serene and frozen to much more eerie.
To his sensibilities, death was somewhat different than humans saw it – a part of nature, a cycle, something to be lived alongside less than feared.
But still.
The sights of rows of human skeletons – skin and muscles picked clean perhaps centuries ago, just the nigh-fossilized bones remaining – seated along the benches, legs bound by long-rusted shackles to the now-rotted wooden floor, sent pangs of anger and sadness through his heart.
Even with hundreds – if not thousands – of years gone by, the cruelty humans showed each other made him sick.
Indeed, this wreck was interesting, a unique and rare piece of the above-world’s history entombed in the depths…but this was nothing beautiful to him.
True, his lady had an exquisite hunger for all the wonders of his world, beautiful and terrifying and strange just the same…but he’d have to think on this one, perhaps ask what she knew or cared to know about her kind’s history of blood and battle before he’d share it.
The ascent would be easier on his body.
So, with that, he swam out the same breach he entered, re-oriented, and headed back to the world of sunlight.