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For countless moons had she watched them from afar.
With a careful eye did she observe the great brigantine and those who dwelt upon it—humans, a merry herd of sailors, who sailed upon what seemed to be a mighty ship with a long tale hidden beneath the material. Their laughter rang in her ears and tormented even her dreams, whilst their broad shanties, sounding like roars, remained in her thoughts far longer than she had ever thought possible.
Ah, those shanties. Indeed, were they both but a wonder and a curse. All those basses, tenors, and baritones tangled together into one charming chaos. To her, it remained uncertain whether such music was a delight or a promise of the upcoming dread, for when but a single voice lost its rhythm, the harmony of the whole company threatened to fall apart far into the depths of the sea.
And there was he.
A voice unlike any other—a smooth baritone that appeared capable of tenderly caressing her, carry her tailed silhouette gently upon the waves of the endless sea, to defend the maiden from the monsters of the dark. She would know it amongst thousands of basses and tenors alike, be they younger or older; it mattered not.
There was something within that voice—something unseen, yet to be unraveiled, that called to her and drew her ever closer with each dusk.
And her father, her dearest father, would surely have called it an act of madness. A foolish venture. A path leading to destruction only.
A suicide of sorts, he would have said...
Had he still been here to speak the words, that is.
One day, she drew nearer, only to rest upon a stone nearby.
Had she gathered greater courage, were it that easy... But a ship would await her, along with an alone sailor on board.
Instead, did she call out, waving her small hand:
"'HEY, YOU!"
Loudly.
The sailor turned to the sound of her voice, a confusion painted on his pale face. Whether had he been older, she couldn't say—for the man was deemed a brunet, but strands of white in his hair told otherwise. His piercing blue gaze searched for the maiden, as he crossed the ship, to glare into the sea's depth from the distance.
"What's...?" His baritone rang through the waves.
"OVER HERE!" The mermaid waved to him. "I'm not drawing nearer, Pretty Face, my solemn apologies."
"What sorcery is this?" The man cried.
"Look..." She began, her voice firm.
"Jason".
"Look, Jason....Had I called upon you, or sang to you...You'd surely perish. Most likely, that is." Her mirth tickled his ears. "Naturally, I want nothing of the sort." The maiden bit her bit, gazing upon the sailor. "Unless, the circumstances should change by any miracle, that is....By then, I shall be certain — and so shall you."
One look of the man betrayed a hint of curiosity.
She was a creature of rare beauty; a pair of amber-like eyes would bewitch any men in seconds, had he looked into them but once, as much as the frame of chocolate curls would invite the poor fool to count every freckle on her darker skin. With her figure, she could enchant mere sailors and captains alike, had they been eager to ease the temptations.
"Jason?" The mermaid bit her lip, her eyebrows furrowed. "My eyes are up here."
The sailor's cheeks had blossomed in red. He cleared his throat.
"My sincere apologies, Miss...?"
"Bella."
"Fitting," Jason admitted in response.
"Such a gentleman, my, my!" Bella teased him mercilessly.
"Miss, I am but a man."
""And I am but a fish. What is it you seek to prove?"
"Touché." The sailor chortled.
Had they had more time to spare, the conversation would unfold for longer.
Yet, the fate itself had planned otherwise.
A shadow of a man cried out.
"AY, BOY!"
Then, from the corner of her eye, did she behold the silhouette of a man; as she could almost almost stare into the eyes of the same shade of pale blue.
Had she not been interrupted, that is.
"Quick!" Jason called. "Hide!"
The mermaid listened, as the wood creaked beneath his father's shoes.
"AY, BOY! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" He came up to him, with a glimmer in his eye.
"Coming right away, Father!" The younger sailor glanced at the sea unfolding before him in the distance. "Right away! Please excuse me."
""Had I known no better, I would have thought you were losing your mind.""
"No..." Jason shook his hand. "I..."
"Never mind, then, boy.." The Father put his hand on the poor lad's shoulder. "Now, cease your talking to the sea... Would it not have been disastrous, had you conjured a mermaid or some other creature?" He laughed heartily, almost coughing.
"Yes, would it..." Jason looked upon his father's eyes.
*
"Not bad, Montori, not bad..." Mendal murmured. "But it lacks a talking fish. And here I thought sailors were more of gentlemen..."
"Maybe yes, maybe not..."
"Then where did you get the idea from?"
She raised an eyebrow at him, leaning closer.
"Jason...My eyes are up here."
And perhaps, just perhaps, red was his color...