The creature tried to speak, but his voice came out in a garbled sound, something unfamiliar to Anya. He struggled to push
himself up on his elbows with his tail thrashing against the deck. It was clear
he was not happy to be there, and Anya wasn't sure what to do.
She stumbled back. Her eyes went wide with
disbelief. The creature in front of her, a merman tangled in her fishing net, was something out of legends—something she had refused to believe existed. Anya
panicked. She grabbed the nearest thing she could find—a mop stick, and pointed
it at him with her voice shaking as she warned him to stay back.
"Don't come any closer!" she shouted
with her hands trembling.
The merman, tangled in her net and struggling to move, flinched at her outburst but didn't make any sudden movements. He tried to speak again with his mouth opening as if to form words, but the sounds that
came out were still unintelligible to her. Anya's mind raced, wondering why he
wasn't attacking or trying to free himself. He seemed… different from the violent sirens she had always heard about, the ones people claimed had killed her father and his crew. But nonetheless, he was like them she thought.
"Stay back!" she repeated, though she could see now that he was more trapped than anything. He thrashed his tail, trying to free himself from the thick net, but his movements were weak, as if he were injured. Anya hesitated and her grip tightened on the mop as he shifted again.
Frightened that he was about to lunge at her, Anya hit him with the stick. The blow wasn't hard enough to seriously hurt him, but
it aggravated him. The merman let out a sharp hiss of pain and anger. His ocean-blue
eyes flashed dangerously. For a moment, she thought he would retaliate, and she
braced herself. But instead, he stopped struggling. He lowered his gaze as if
to calm himself.
Then, slowly, he lifted his arm and pointed to a gash on his side—an ugly wound that had been hidden by the net's ropes. Anya
froze as she took in the sight of the injury. Blood seeped from the wound, dripping onto the deck in small, steady drops.
He was hurt.
This was a creature that, according to everything she had been told, was responsible for the deaths of countless sailors, including possibly her father. And yet, as she stared at the wound, her fear gave way to something else—sympathy. He wasn't attacking her. He wasn't threatening her. He was just injured, trapped, and in pain.
Her fingers relaxed their grip on the mop stick, and she set it aside cautiously. Could she really help him? Could she trust
him?
She wasn't sure, but she wasn't cruel either.
"Stay still," she muttered, more to herself than to the merman. Anya quickly scanned the ship, searching for anything that might
help. A small first-aid kit lay tucked away in one of the ship's storage compartments. She grabbed it, rushing back to the deck where the merman lay motionless, watching her warily. His tail flicked occasionally, causing the ropes to shift, but his gaze remained fixed on her.
Anya knelt beside him, carefully examining the wound. It was deep, but not life-threatening if treated properly. She glanced
up at his face and was struck by how… beautiful he was. His features were sharp
but elegant, his long hair was deep blue-black. His eyes, though filled with pain , were mesmerising, and his tail, powerful yet delicate, glimmered with silver scales.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. Now wasn't the time to admire his otherworldly appearance.
Working as quickly as she could, Anya cleaned the wound and applied a bandage. The merman remained still the entire time, watching her with those intense eyes. When she was done, she sat back on her heels and looked at him, unsure of what to do next.
"You're free to go," she said, gesturing to the
sea. "Once I get this net off of you, you can leave."
The merman tried to shift again but winced in
pain. He lifted his hand and pointed to his tail, shaking his head. Anya's stomach dropped as she realised what he was trying to tell her. His tail—it was injured, too. He couldn't swim.
Her heart sank. She had hoped that once she freed him, he would leave, and she could be alone again. She didn't trust him. How could she? But the look in his eyes—an almost pleading expression—softened her resolve. She couldn't just leave him helpless.
"I don't trust you," she said quietly with her
brow furrowed, "but I can't leave you like this either. Once your tail heals, you're going back to wherever you came from. Got it?"
The merman stared at her for a moment, then slowly brought his hands together, bowing his head slightly. It was a gesture of thanks. Anya blinked in surprise, not expecting the show of gratitude.
"Okay…" she said awkwardly. "You're welcome, I guess."
She stood up and began to tidy the deck, trying to clear her mind. The drama of the night had drained her, and her stomach
grumbled in protest, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since before her escape. She glanced at the fishing net, which had nearly gotten her killed today.
"I am hungry," she admitted to herself. "But no way I'm trying that again," she muttered to herself whilst shaking her head. The last thing she needed was to haul another sea creature onto her deck. She decided she would go hungry for the night and turned to head below deck to get some rest.
Just as she was about to step away, she heard a voice behind her.
"Nereus."
Anya froze with her eyes widening. Slowly, she turned to face the merman with disbelief written across her face.
"W-what did you say?" she stammered.
"Nereus," the merman repeated with his voice rough but clear enough. "My name."
Anya stared at him. He had spoken—in English. His words were rough, broken, but understandable. She had assumed that the merman couldn't communicate with her, but now here he was, introducing himself.
"Nereus…" she repeated softly, testing the name on her tongue. It sounded strange and unfamiliar, but it suited him.
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I'm Anya," she said quietly, still trying to process what had just happened.
The merman—Nereus—looked at her for a long moment, then nodded in return. The moment felt surreal, as if the gap between their worlds had briefly closed. Anya didn't know what to make of it. Here she was,
alone on a ship with an injured merman who, up until moments ago, she had thought of as a myth. Now he had a name, and they had spoken.
"I… I'm going to get some sleep," Anya said,
shaking her head as if trying to make sense of everything. "You should rest too."
Nereus didn't respond, just watched as she
gathered herself and headed below deck. Once inside her small cabin, she
collapsed onto her bed. Exhaustion finally overtook her. As she lay there, staring up at the wooden ceiling, she had many thoughts.
What did this mean? If Nereus was real, what else was out there? Were the legends of the Siren's Hoard true? Could she really
find her father? What if he was actually dead like they say?
Though so many thoughts ran through her mind, her eyes fluttered shut. They were too heavy to stay open any longer. She would figure it out in the morning. For now, she just needed rest.
Before drifting off to sleep, one last thought
crossed her mind: Nereus. He spoke.
This was only the beginning….