Chapter Text
Long ago, when people still believed in faeries and magic and Gods who ruled uncontested over the lives of all on land or sea, there existed a small town to the north, surrounded by sea on all sides but one, who could still attest to the existence of merfolk. They had once been plentiful, often seen in the numerous coves and rocky shallows that adorned the outer reaches of the land.
Even in those days merfolk made themselves scarce when humans were nearby, but it was said that, if you left your windows open at night, you could hear their songs echo, amplified by the rocky cliffs and carried by the wind. So beautiful was their music that the people of the town grew covetous. Rich merchants began to hunt them by night, casting their nets far and wide. Many merfolk were taken with the hopes of hearing their songs, only for their captors to face disappointment when their new prizes quickly became despondent and fell into silence. The prisoners, once separated from the sea, lost the will to live, with most dying mere weeks after their capture.
After the raids, each night’s air was filled not with the lovely, lilting music of the past, but with shrieks and howls of grief and rage. Anyone who lived then would have attested that it was truly a terrible thing to behold, and the villagers began to sleep with their windows closed to stifle the symphony borne of their sins. But that was not the end of the villager’s problems.
It was speculated, when three merchant ships that were scheduled to return to the town earlier that winter vanished without a trace, that the merfolk had something to do with it. Black magic, they thought, as only a curse or evil doings could explain why their men had failed to return from the neighboring province on a trip mere days away on a route that hadn’t given them trouble in generations. Fearing that any more sea travel would further invoke the rage of the merfolk, the townspeople quickly became more isolated in the months to come. After some time had passed, the villagers were sorely lacking vital supplies from their regular trading partners. With a formidable mountain range blocking their passage to the north, most did not dare cross, and those who did seldom returned. Blocked on all sides, the hunger and misery became unbearable, the people became desperate. The next town hall meeting was utter chaos, with the townsfolk demanding that the mayor do something about their current predicament. Ideas were tossed around the table as to how they might go about avoiding or abating their current situation. Perhaps the sailors might stop their ears with cotton, so that their tempestuous songs would not sway their hearts and lead them to peril? Or maybe they ought to take an offensive stance, preparing their ships with various bombs and spears to try and drive them away should they get too close. However, very soon their planning was to be for naught.
It was said, on the sixth month after the raids, the last captured mermaid finally faded out of existence. The townspeople peered their heads out their windows as the sun set, noting the peculiar absence of sound on the wind. With the death of the last captured mermaid, the merfolk song could no longer be heard, neither the clear song of the sea nor the enraged throes of grief. The song would not be sung that night, nor for many nights to come, until the music of the merfolk drifted out of living memory.
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On the top of a west facing rocky cliff overlooking the sea, a boy (or, a young man now, as he would be considered in those days), by the name of Eren, made his living through the fish trade that was a major factor of the local economy. He himself, however, owned no great fishing vessels, no large nets big enough to swallow entire schools of fish and anything else unlucky enough to be caught in the way. All he had to his name was a series of small nets that he wove with his own hands, a few traps here and there, a spear that had been passed down to him by his old master, and of course, his boat. It was nothing fancy, just big enough to hold himself and one other person plus their supplies. Even the paint was peeling off in some places, but it never failed Eren before and he was quite fond of it.
Bare feet slapped on the dock as Eren ran to his boat. He was flustered, planning on starting his day early to catch a school of cod before it left the sea near his shore to migrate elsewhere. He had only a short window of time to work, and he had slept in on accident, his heart leaping in distress when he awoke to the sun already streaming through his window. Just two or three, that’s all I need from this lot, he thought to himself as he hurried. He slipped on his boots, which lay near the end of the dock next to where his boat was tied up. Carefully, he lowered himself into the boat, minding the tipping and swaying so he didn’t end up in the water. He set the lunch he had made for himself, steamed crab legs and a side of hard boiled eggs that he had traded for in town.
He had gotten a special deal that day- a three pound wrasse for two dozen eggs! If he had been a tad more observant, then he might have picked up on the fact that the merchant’s daughter, Saoirse, had fancied him for some time now. But to her misfortune, he was exceptionally oblivious when it came to the matters of the heart. While he hurried home, grateful at the girl’s generosity, Saoirse rested her fist against her cheek, wondering if indeed there was any boy more hopeless than Eren Jaeger!
“And we’re off!” Eren exclaimed, to no one in particular. Now settled into the small boat, he untied the thick rope from the pier and used a worn paddle to push himself away. Further and further he drifted, until the dock was a small speck on the horizon. He got to his feet uncertainly, the powerful sea breeze tossing his dark hair over his eyes as he struggled with the netting before casting it into the water. Now, he waited. Some time passed, and the heat from the sun, now hovering overhead, made Eren feel drowsy. He leaned back, using a straw hat to cover his face while he rested. He didn’t mind the heat so much, and he was used to it by now, all the expeditions he had been on giving his normally fair skin a bronzy hue.
It appeared as though today was not a fruitful one for the young fisherman, as the sun began to set without a single pull from his net. It would be dark in a couple of hours, and since Eren hadn’t gotten a single bite, he decided it would be best to pack it in. It always made him anxious to go home empty handed, as he was well aware that his fishing was just barely enough to sustain himself, a fact that became even more apparent when his day’s work was hopeless and his cupboards at home were sparse. At least this week was not a case of the latter issue, however, as, by Eren’s estimate he had enough food to last about five days, perhaps a full week if he stretched it.
Exhausted, he reached over the side of the boat and began reeling in his net. Not a damn thing , he lamented to himself. It was true that he had felt no indications of any kind of catch, but he had hoped that perhaps even a small fish would have become ensnared, just enough so that he wouldn’t have to return with nothing to show for his efforts. Sighing unhappily, he began paddling back to the dock, reaching the familiar faded wood within twenty minutes. He tied up his boat once more, then gathered the remnants of his lunch and gear in his arms before making the steep trudge up the narrow path to his house.
Eren’s home was a stark white against the fading sun and darkening clouds. It was a decently sized house, certainly not something he could have afforded on his meager income had he not inherited it from his late father. He entered through the kitchen door, wiping his boots off on the mat and setting them up near the door. The heat had made Eren bone-tired, and he barely had the strength to draw a bath and gulp down some water. He knew he ought to eat something, but he didn’t feel hungry at all. He set out a towel for himself, opening the bathroom window a crack with a light push and shucking off his clothes before gingerly stepping into the hot water Once he sank down into the warm bath there was nothing save an incoming hurricane that would have moved him from his spot. He sighed contentedly, letting the heat unwind his stiff muscles. He felt the breeze cool his exposed knees and shoulders like a balm. He soon entered that twilight-like phase when one is not sure if they are sleeping or waking. He drifted like this for a while, further lulled by the soft singing that carried through the window. It was clear and lovely, in some sort of language he didn’t understand and yet seemed strangely familiar...
Subconsciously, Eren sensed that something was peculiar and awoke with a start. The singing had stopped, with him being unsure if it had just stopped or stopped a while ago or perhaps hadn’t been real to begin with. He immediately noticed that the once-warm bathwater was now beginning to cool with the evening chill, and he quickly washed his hair and stepped out. He toweled off before yanking his sleep clothes on, padding silently to his bedroom.
On the left side of his bed there was a large window overlooking the sea, and most importantly, his dock and boat. His hands moved toward his bedside table, from which he drew a long tallow candle and a pack of matches. He struck a match against the side of the pack with a hiss, the small light wavering in the darkness until he affixed it to the wick. He extinguished the stick with a flick of his wrist before moving to set the candle in its usual holder on the windowsill. However, before he was able to place it, something gave him pause.
Out in the bay, just beyond the dock, was a speck of yellow. He peered closer. Not just any speck, it was a person! He could see the yellow of their hair from here! And, from his point of view, it looked like they were...staring..at him? He couldn’t actually tell if they saw him from his distance, but somehow he was almost certain that they could. Then, as quickly as the figure appeared, it vanished into the waves with a splash. No, Eren thought to himself. Not a person. A mermaid.
