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Clarice had never been one to stay indoors. Far from it, in fact. It was the primary reason she had made the journey over to the capital, her itch for something more than what her life offered becoming too prominent to ignore for any longer.
It was under the guise of working out of town, of course. Only for a year. After all, if her parents learned that their precious, golden, do-no-wrong daughter had taken such a liking to sailing the seas as a hunter rather than a scholar, they would go berserk. How dare she be so dead set on any path other than the one they had planned for her since she was a girl? Her great-grandparents had sworn never to pillage the ocean again, not after a merfolk upturned their family heirloom of a boat; the ship that had apparently lasted for centuries.
It was logic Clarice would never bring herself to agree with, and if she tried, she had always felt queasy at the thought. So what? One ship that had lasted a couple centuries, passed down throughout the generations of her family, getting destroyed meant that no more of their descendants could ever try and restore their bloodline to greatness and glory once more? In the old days, the ones she had read about in the history books she’d been forced to read in school, her ancestors would have scorned her mother and father, considering them weak-willed, spiritless cowards, and probably other such names.
While her scorn was primarily directed towards her predecessors, Clarice couldn’t deny the hatred she felt towards any sea creature after learning of the tragedy. They had destroyed any chance she had gotten of being approved by her parents in her journey to become the world’s greatest and youngest female pirate! If sailing the high seas would let her enact her revenge on the beasts of the water and slaughter the last of them for ruining her family’s perception of monster hunting, then so be it.
Old scriptures often depicted three different species of merfolk rather than the two Clarice was aware of… but they were ancient tales. Outdated, most likely. That, or they just hadn’t properly registered what was before their eyes. All merfolk were harbingers of destruction, marine Apollyon sent by the darkest depths of the aquatic abyss itself, no matter how many crumbling tapestries showed them being deceptively benevolent. It was all a trick. It was why little else from those times had been recovered; the scholars had all been slaughtered and consumed by their own gullibility.
That was what she told herself. That was what she forced herself to believe. Even when she felt sick staring at the dismembered tails of merfolk, mounted on the walls of the buildings of noblemen, the iridescent, vibrant scales shimmering in the early rays of dawn when she passed by them. Clarice was insistent she would slaughter any suspiciously large creature she spotted lurking beneath the water. So far, she was convinced she had struck a few of them with a harpoon at some point, but none had stuck around long enough for her to tell. The only sign had been blood pooling around them, though usually they either quickly swam off, or Clarice rushed away before sharks or other beasts sniffed it out.
She told herself that any human with the legs of a fish, she would spear through the heart no matter what.
Perhaps lying ran in the family.
She had first met this wacky, extremely bizarre man when Cove had returned from one of their heists, ship stacked with loot and things they had taken from elsewhere. They had been absent for approximately a week or two, this being the primary reason that people were gathered around the harbour with intrigue.
Clarice, on the other hand, had been meaning to go down to the water level. Sure, she’d have liked to be a crazy fanatic over the pirates like the other teens, more specifically that blonde one with the crow (as in, the others favored him over the rest of his crew, but Clarice herself quite liked the stories they all had to tell, and Karl, as his crewmates called him, was a pretty unreliable narrator), but this was her one chance in possibly months. People were frequently busy down there, whether it be fishing or swimming, and while the whole town was distracted, Clarice could finally go. She had never been there before — the hustle and bustle proved to be quite overwhelming, which was why she preferred to remain alone out at sea.
Climbing down the rocky path proved to be relatively challenging, but she could manage. She’d stumbled down worse. The sand and gravel crunched beneath her feet, the salt from the water carried on the breeze, and the sky had been turning more and more gray throughout this half of the day. If it started raining soon, she wouldn’t be surprised.
The only times had Clarice been in such close contact with water were when she was out at sea on her boat or another ship. Those on a proper vessel tended to be bounty hunting expeditions, however, something she wasn’t all that interested in, due to how unlikely it was she would actually be the one to claim a reward. Not that she wouldn’t be killing any more merfolk, though — no, quite the opposite! Just… those expeditions tended to consist of a large number of people, and sure, all the members of the mission would be able to collect a fraction of the money, but the more racket, the more likely they would scare the very creature they were hunting off.
I should be alone, she mused. Should be. Was that glimpse of white nearer the rocks a mere figment of her imagination? Likely. But she still wanted to investigate.
Striding over to the point of interest, Clarice peered among the boulders. Maybe it was just a patch of fur from a large white animal that had snagged on the rocks, or a piece of material from a fancy, expensive coat overseas. If it was the latter, she could probably sell it for some good money, so long as the buyers believed her. She herself wasn’t so sure of her speculations.
Ah, it was probably worth nothing. Clarice stood from her crouching position, brushed herself off, and turned to retrace her steps.
That was when she felt a tingling sensation in her back; almost as if she was being—
Watched!
Clarice whipped around.
The face that stared back was sickly pale, almost translucent in colour, and his hair was unnaturally white — unkempt, and Clarice was sure she could tell whether hair had been dyed or not. His eyes were either blue or brown, but due to both the sunlight and the distance she had already made, it was difficult to tell.
She had heard stories of this. Merfolks’ skin was often more ashy than that of humans, and their hair was usually either a vibrant, unmistakable shade, or duller and a little more monochrome.
She unsheathed her dagger and lunged, earning a startled yelp from the creature beneath her. Kill it. Slice its throat. Stab it in the eyes, cut off its tail, and keep it as a trophy.
Hold on.
It didn’t have a tail.
“Wait, wait!” the person cried as she yanked on his hair. No roots. It couldn’t have been dyed. Such luxuries were only granted to those who could afford it, and judging by his current state of nakedness, he was either homeless, a washed-up outsider, or a total freak.
“Who are you?” Clarice demanded and jabbed the knife against his throat, earning a strangled gasp. A thin line of blood beaded up beneath the sharp edge of her blade, but it wasn’t any colour she was familiar with. Then again, merfolk weren’t exactly human — but they weren’t particularly legged, either.
“I’m… the Climber?” the man offered, causing Clarice to narrow her eyes further.
She pushed the dagger harder against his windpipe, the iridescent liquid this prompted slowly dripping down onto the rough ground below. “I meant your real name, dumbass.”
“I don’t have one!” Odd. Clarice hardly felt his hands pushing weakly against her chest. “Can you get off now? Please?”
“What are you?” she decided to ask, though her weight loosened just a fraction.
He was hesitant to respond. “I think I’m a human.”
“You think?”
This was probably some fucked up fever dream. His upper body didn’t look human, sure, but his lower body didn’t have a tail, the telltale sign of a merfolk. Then again, she had heard tales of some wielding the ability to discard their tails for a short period of time to blend in with humankind.
This guy didn’t look very… capable, though. She could easily beat him in a fight.
Slowly, reluctantly, Clarice leaned back on her heels, allowing the “Climber” (if that was his real name) to sit up. She took this moment to inspect him a little closer; white hair, of course, pallid skin that literally glowed in the sunlight. No scales, but no brown or blonde or whatever-other-colour roots either. He didn’t look particularly weighty. She could easily pick him up and throw him into the sea if he tried anything funny.
“So.” Clarice stood up, but when he tried to follow suit, she pushed him back down with her shoe. “No way. You’re not standing up until I find a way to clothe you.” She hadn’t dared let her gaze wander too far down. She was no pervert.
He looked jittery, and she doubted he knew where he was. His eyes kept darting around, like he was searching for an escape, but there was no way Clarice would let him go without answering her questions. She bent down slightly, just to force him to look at her properly. “What district are you from?”
Climber blinked. “The… water one?”
Safe Harbour? He didn’t mean that, surely. He would have said its name if so.
“And your town?”
“I don’t remember, okay? I just woke up here!”
An amnesiac. Wonderful. Just the person she wanted to work with today.
“So you remember your job.” Clarice slowly stood up straighter. “But not your town, or your district.”
“Job?”
Clarice seethed.
She grabbed Climber by the arm, forcing him to stand. He was a whole head taller than her, but that was the least of her concerns. Not that she was worried for this weirdo.
She grabbed her bag and tossed it at him; inside were spare clothes, which she always carried, in case she fell in the water.
Climber blinked and pulled out the set of pants she had shoved inside unceremoniously. “What… are these?”
“Clothes.” Her hands came to her hips. “You wear them.”
“Why would I need to wear them?” He frowned.
Clarice tried to look unimpressed, but in her mind, she was one loose screw away from totally fuming. “Because it’s cold.”
“Cold,” he echoed. “Right.”
She watched as he tugged the pants on, like a stray dressing itself. He was not human, that much was clear, but unless he remembered himself, this wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.
Once he was somewhat decent (even if the articles were much too loose-fitting — short yet baggy — for him) Clarice grabbed his wrist and dragged him down the beach. He complained the whole way to her house, and bringing him here had been a last second decision. He could be useful. Besides, she wasn’t a total jerk. This dude had no clue what was going on, and would likely have died if she hadn’t found him.
In the meantime, her head was reeling. Was he a merfolk after all? A shapeshifter? Maybe he was a leviathan, but he would at least be able to pass as a regular human. Just… maybe one who didn’t go outside very much.
Clarice pushed him inside as soon as she turned the key in her lock and opened the door, slamming it shut behind her. “Tell me what you remember,” she demanded almost immediately.
He stared at her innocently, slowly backing away towards the couch nearby. He was a fidgety thing, fumbling with his hands, knees bouncing, as if he’d never had legs before. “I… I was just minding my business, you know? I liked to swim nearer the humans a lot, but apparently I destroyed one of those big wooden things, even though I didn’t know I could even do that.”
Clarice felt her fists clench. “So you were a merfolk.”
“I was, yeah! I got dragged out of the water one day, though. The last I remember from that whole thing was this weird tall guy with a funny hat and cool patterns. Then I woke up somewhere new.” Climber tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I think I worked for them sometimes, but I was, um… no use to them after a while. I thought maybe going back to the ocean would fix me, but...” He stretched his legs out, then smiled awkwardly. “I’m not a killer.”
“I could tell,” Clarice muttered. “Gods, the government really is stupid.” She walked over to the mirror nearby and pushed her face into her hands.
She didn’t fully trust this newcomer, that was for sure. Unless he had made up that whole story, but only an insane person with an utterly crazy imagination would be able to fabricate something like that.
Clarice turned once more. “So you are a merfolk.”
Climber nodded, not unkindly. “Yeah!”
“So that means I should kill you right now.”
When she began to advance, he shrank back. “Wai—wait! I can… I can be useful! I can do things, like… like, like…” He started to fumble horribly.
“I heard about that ship you upturned. We all did.”
“I didn—”
“I know.” Clarice raised her hand. “I know that. You could not hurt a fly even if you tried, just looking at you. I don’t know why I’m helping you out, but you’re no threat to anybody like this, which is why I’ll let you live, seeing as I’m a very nice person.”
Climber slowly blinked, before smiling once more. “You… really are.”
She paused. She had intended for her words to come across as moreso sarcastic, but she should have expected he wouldn’t be able to comprehend cues like that. Clarice groaned, stretched, and forced out through gritted teeth, “From what I’m understanding, you were cursed by the man with the cool hat and cool patterns.”
She could recognize any description of Castle. She was the ruler of the Nations district, and such a title was passed down to the next generation of leader once the previous one passed. Clarice had heard of the odd powers they could wield, and she wouldn’t put it past it to have the ability to literally change peoples’ species.
“Cursed...” Climber looked like he had no idea what the word meant. He probably didn’t know what a lot of words meant.
Clarice inhaled deeply, in a desperate attempt at steeling herself. It was just her luck to be the one who found and was now forced to deal with a literal manchild. Then again, she had brought him into her home; and she couldn’t exactly blame him. He seemed almost lonely.
It was probably because he wasn’t surrounded by other merfolk, Clarice thought bitterly. She had to remind herself how dangerous this guy could be if he was still tailed.
He had been framed, though. At least from her understanding of this whole freaky situation (and, by the sounds of it, his).
Okay. His name was Climber, he had been framed for sinking a vessel, and captured and turned into a human because of it. Then he’d been kicked out by Castle because he wasn’t needed anymore, tried swimming with a new body like a fool, and now she had to deal with the aftermath of all this. Great. Sounded fine.
This shouldn’t be too hard. And yet…
“We need to hide your hair.”