Chapter Text
Mermaids are not what most believe them to be, nowadays. In todays society and media, mermaids are classed as lovely, fair creatures that play with the dolphins and swim along the shallows making friends with passing humans. None of it is true. Mermaid lore of old is correct; they are scaled and vicious and make fun by luring sailors onto rocky terrain and watching them all drown, some even dragging them from the boats and dragging them down to the murky depths. They are as cruel as they are ugly, and no human has laid eyes upon one and survived. All, that is, apart from one.
Rumford Gold was not a sailor. He was as fearful of the ocean as he was fascinated by it. Up until a few months ago, he had not even dipped his toes in the crystalline water, his anxiety threatening him with tales of drowning and being dragged into open water by the tide. He never voiced these fears though, as he was a strong and powerful man in their quaint little town by the shore. He was as wealthy as one could be in such a little place, all of his clothes imported from distant shores and every stitch and seam crafted by hand.
His son, Bae, was a trying lad. Always swimming in the ocean and calling his father every so often so he would see exactly how far out he had gone. Gold always told him to stay close, but like most children in their early teens, he was rebellious and pushed his boundaries, seeing how far out he could get before his father could beckon him back to the sandy beach to dry off and have a drink.
He did, I should say, until the storm.
The storm was a few months back. Nobody had noticed the thick black clouds until the covered the midday sky, blocking out the sun, and bringing with it a wind so fierce that it knocked dear old Mrs Lucas, the local owner of the towns’ diner, clear off her feet and into a nearby hedge. And with the wind came the rain, pouring down so suddenly and heavily that it was as if the sky had torn apart. This all happened, mind you, in the brief time of around forty seconds. And that was not enough time for Bae to reach the shore again. The waves rolled so high and sharp that Gold lost sight of his son, having been dragged beneath the surface.
That was all it took. Less than a minute and Gold lost his son. Not thinking twice about ruining his custom made Italian suit, he waded into the water, cane, shoes and all, screaming his sons name, but as if the Gods were trying to obliterate all of his chances, lightning broke out, drowning out his voice. Before he knew it, he was swimming, forcing his arms and legs in a way he had not done since he was a kid in Glasgow in the local leisure centre. Pull, push, and kick. Pull, push, and kick. He was so far out that land seemed like a thousand miles away, not even sure he could spot it beyond the high waves and he was beginning to tire, not having done so much in so long that his legs were feeling like jelly and his arms so heavy he was struggling to hold himself above the surface-
Then blackness. According to the local station, he had, too, been pulled beneath the waves. David Nolan, a local boy who worked at the veterinarians, had gotten out his boat but couldn’t find either of them, until he rowed back to shore to find Gold on the sand, soaked to the bone, shivering and spluttering water whilst unconscious. David’s actions named him a local hero for saving the life of the old dragon who owned the town. But that is not what Gold remembered.
He remembered eyes so blue they could easily cut through diamonds, hands that were slightly webbed and a smile that he should have been scared of, wrapping from ear to ear with rows of sharp spiked teeth. He remembered the person dragging him above and pulling him to the sand is his hardly conscious state. And a kiss. The creature pouring air back into his lungs with her slimed lips glued against his. And then… nothing. He woke up in hospital the next day.
But, like you were told before, that was several months back. Now, Gold spent most evenings overlooking the water, forcing the tears to stay hidden and holding onto his newly acquired walking stick so tightly he was surprised he hadn’t broken the handle. He worked all day, throwing himself so deeply into anything he could to distract him from the pain he felt. His leg gave him more pain now than he had felt since the accident which had caused the damage and the ache he felt in his heart… It would be a lie to say Mr Gold had not sunk into a deep depression that nobody believed he would recover from.
He was a stronger man than most though. As he looked over the waves from his beachfront balcony, cane in one hand and mythology book in the other he questioned himself for the thousandth time on the things he believed himself to have seen. In his spare time since the incident, he had researched as much as he could about legends and lore of mythical sea creatures, knowing full well that what he had seen was not natural or known about before. The memory haunted his every night, replaying that day every night in his slumber. Losing his son, the height of the waves, and that strange…thing.
He would find out. He hated the monster. Gold believed he should have died with his son, seeing it as the only fitting way. But now he saw differently. He had been given the gift and torture that was life, forced to live out his days alone and miserable. This should have been the only conclusion after living a life like he, tormenting those around him, using his status and wealth to bring weak men to their knees.
But Gold was a strong man and that night he realised; this was just, this was right. His life, his choices, were being judged by a higher power and this was his punishment.
He threw the book behind him in the direction of the chair he left outside and sighed, turning his eyes from the sea to the caves which lined the opposite side of the beach, running along and out into the ocean. There was not much could be said about the caves. They were carved from the waves and stood up to thirty feet high, hollow from the crashing water and able to hide an abundant of strange things if anyone was up to finding anything. But local stories told of horrible curses that would be bestowed on any that enter. Even the local children kept clear of the rocky caverns, fearing death or worse, the response from their parents. That was where he would look next. If anywhere could give him clues to further his search for the monster that rescued him it would be there.
----------
Lizabelle was tired. That was all she felt, focussing on the hollowness inside her and blowing out an air bubble, the closest thing to a sigh that could be made beneath the waves. She slowed in her swimming, reaching out to the nearest rock and using it as leverage to curl up on top of it, stretching out and looking up, staring at the blackness above her. She was lurking along the ocean floor, trying to keep as far away from the surface as she could, knowing the temptations that waited there.
Her father had warned her repeatedly about going to the surface again, forbidding her to be within a tails length of the air. He was a strict man, usually fair and always loving, but after what had happened, he had become cruel in a way that only parents looking out for their childs best interests could. She knew that had it not been her at the centre of this that she would understand, she would probably be on his side, too. But here she was, curled up on a rock, holding her breath and imagining brown eyes with golden specks in them and unruly hair that was so different from all of the hair she had seen on any of the other merfolk.
She never thought she would fall in love; especially with a land dweller. But, like you have already been told, here she was. Alone, cold and missing the feel of his dry skin beneath her fingertips… She had to forget about him. She knew she had to if she ever wished to get over… Gods, she did not even know his name. But in her mind she imagined him to have a name as beautiful as he was, as colourful as the coral reefs she played in as a young one and as heart breaking as he made her feel. There would never be a future for them, but she could dream.
Pa had always called her his little daydreamer, always with her head above the surface. She loved deeply and gave her time and caring nature to any who needed it, even to those who didn’t. She cared to the point of disaster, trying to sympathise with the wrong doers and trying to help those in need, the homeless and the hungry all knowing she would help them. She was a good merfolk; everyone told her so, her heart so full of love. But she had never found someone she wanted to give her heart to until now. And that was the problem.
She let out her breath and watched the bubbles slowly rise, disappearing out of sight as they rose to the top of the ocean. She wished she could follow them, but hated to disobey her father. She knew she should be home soon before he began to worry, so she pushed herself up and began the short swim home.
The water was cooler today, her scaled tail and midriff turning harder to adapt to the icy ripples in the water. It was getting closer to winter and she knew they would have to prepare, to protect the little ones and the harsh rushes of water that always came with the colder weather. But one thing kept her smiling. Gastonisus would be home.
As expected, he was outside of her home, swaying gently in the water and looking as magnificent as always. He was one of the Dual walkers, merfolk who went to the surface to gather information, relaying what they learnt to the king and bringing with them stories of the land dwellers and all things new from the surface.
He was one of her two close friends, and even she had to admit he was handsome. His tail was gently scaled, adapted to the colder weather, and glowed red in the dim light that surrounded her home. His face was perfectly cut, his hair slightly curled but dancing with the roll of the water, and his eyes a crystal green she would never believe so pure had she not known him her entire life. His smile was always ready, curled besides his ears and welcoming like he had fallen in love with the view around him and attached to his waist was a small satchel, holding something she knew to be from Above.
He was, also, her betrothed. Her father had arranged the marriage and she had had to accept, not wanting to make a fool of her family in front of their kingdom, one of twelve beneath the sea. Gaz, though, as beautiful and wonderful as he was, knew he would never have her heart, so he held off the wedding, claiming wanting to know his bride-to-be better before he claimed her as his own, even though they had been practically glued at the fin since they could both swim in open waters. He was her best friend and she loved him, but in the way one would love a brother.
He spotted her and rushed to her side, placing an arm around her back and spinning her in a circle, making her dark hair drag behind her. It was a ritual of theirs, the dance welcoming him home before he stopped and placed a small kiss to her hair, taking her hand and spinning her in another circle before him so he could get a good look at her. “Beautiful Belle,” he purred, smile stretching and revealing each of his small spiked teeth. “I have missed you.”
“I have missed you, too, Gaz. How are you feeling? Are you adapted yet?”
He let go of her hand and placed his arm around her and held onto her waist, slowly leading her back inside. The doors opened before them, the guards seeing their approach, and they slowly made their way to the throne room. “I have, my dear one. The water seems colder than most winters though, but I still know it to be further away. I did bring you something, though-”
She pulled him to a halt, holding her webbed hand in between them, waiting for the gift, like a child waiting to be given back its favourite blanket. He usually brought her something from Above and she relished each trinket with the utmost care. He pulled out a small piece of what she thought was crystal but as he held it out to her, she saw her own face reflecting back at her. Her large blue eyes, wild russet hair, small upturned nose and large lips that stretched all across her face, so different from the man-
No. She would not think of him any further. Her life was down here on the ocean floor and away from the land dwellers. She was not one of the chosen to be allowed onto the shores. She continued to look. Large pointed teeth that were common amongst her kind and slits along her neck and jawline, perfectly parallel gills that allowed her to breath. To her kind she was beautiful. To her, she had nothing compared to the land walkers.
The crystal was set in a hard substance, almost like rock but a different texture, like what she had seen in the Rowan Kingdom, and morphed onto it was a delicate handle to grip it with. “What is it?” she asked, stroking along the strange gadget.
“It is a mirror, my beauty. It is made from glass to show you yourself and is set in opal and marble. It is worth a small fortune Above. But I knew it would be perfect for you.”
Gaz was a wonderful merfolk. But like all people, he had his flaws; his main one being his vanity. He knew how beautiful he was and knew everyone else knew so, too. He was constantly preening over his hair or using rugged rocks to file down the talons which tipped each of his webbed fingertips.
“Thank you-”