A Mermaid's Tale

Chapter 1

The coastal town of Wend receives visitors and travelers quite often because of its location on the mouth of the River Kalip, which empties into the Sea of Gamn. It is also tormented by tropical storms quite frequently for the same reason. Both are currently plaguing the trading town, although visitors are not considered a nuisance by the indigenous people. They thrive on the wealth brought to their town by its convenient location, and do not hesitate to raise their prices to make profits larger.

The night's storm is particularly brutal, and many have taken shelter in the local tavern, both foreigner and native alike. Countless candles have been lit to illuminate the dingy pub, whose patrons are as gloomy as the building they occupy. The air carries with it a dampness that comes from the storm, which rages like a Leviathan. None of the men inside the tavern had ever seen the beast save for one.

He sits at a small, secluded table keeping very much to himself. A stump of a candle drips wax onto the scarred surface of the table. The man's face is weathered, scarred, and much resembles the table he sits beside. A dirty tankard waits patiently for the man to drain its contents as the storm continues to wail unhindered.

"Y'ah, that's 'im alright." A trio of men approach the lone man with an air of confidence and curiosity. "'E's the pirate."

One of the men steps forward. "You there, pirate. Look at us."

The man slowly turns to meet them with tired eyes. He looks to be middle aged, yet in the depth of his eyes is reflected a faint, but potent, glimmer of undying youth. The trio do not fail to recognize this latent quality, and although they do not fully comprehend its significance, they recognize its ethereal nature. Time seems to flow past this man without leaving its crippling and indelible mark.

"Say somethin', pirate."

"What makes ya soft bellied landlubbers think me a pirate, eh?"

"See? He talks like one!" One of the men looks on with wide, robin's egg eyes. "He's a real pirate!"

"But 'e can't be a real pirate. There ain't been a pirate 'round these parts fo'...a 'undred yea's!"

"So is he a pirate or not?"

"Why don' ya ask th' pirate if 'e's a pirate, eh?" the man growls.

The trio go silent. "W-well, are you?"

"Ah reckon ahm as much of a pirate as ah look," he answers.

Excitement flies like iridescent sparks as the trio murmurs among themselves. The wide eyed man, which is by far the youngest of the three, steps forward nervously. "Um...we were hoping you could...tell us a story."

A hearty and boisterous rumble fills the tavern. The pirate wipes a tear from his scruffy and smiling cheek. "A story, eh? Well, at least ya go yer pale 'eads screwed on right. Anyone wit' 'alf a brain knows pirates 'ave the best stories t' tell. Can't keep their yaps shut fer a swig o' rum though." He chuckles again. "Take a seat, boys! I 'ave just the story for ya. It'll make yer mangy, landlubbin' 'eads spin like a drunken gull on a windy day. 'Appened a good long time ago if me noggin' be correct. It started when our Cap'n got all tangled up wit' a mermaid like a wig'ly fish in a net."

~000~

"Some'ne git the Cap'n!" a big, burly man roared to the rest of the crew. He was the first mate aboard the Queen Lady, and no one dared contradict him.

The rest of the crew that didn't go to fetch the Captain stood around and gaped in amazement. The pirate ship had been engaging in some illegal fish netting when the nets had suddenly grown heavy. Once aboard, it was obvious what had caused the sudden change. A single, large blue green fin poked out of the writhing mass of mackerel.