Nereus was buttoning up a shirt that Anya had given him. The fabric felt strange against his skin. It was unlike the time he roasted fish for Anya that he had to tie a sack around his waist area. When he stepped out of the cabin onto the deck, he saw Anya sitting by the railing, cradling the small dog in her lap. Maximus, as she had named him, was a lively little thing, and the moment the dog spotted Nereus, it began barking loudly.
Anya laughed softly, trying to calm the excited dog. "Maximus, calm down," she called, gently stroking his head. Nereus hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to approach or not. He didn't want to startle either of them. Seeing his uncertainty, Anya smiled and stood, picking up Maximus in her arms.
"I'm sorry about him," she said, glancing between the dog and Nereus. "He can probably sense that you're not a real human being, like me." Then she looked at Maximus. "Don't be an ingrate Maximus." Anya muttered softly.
Nereus nodded but remained quiet,
watching the small dog curiously. "In…ingrate," he muttered awkwardly. "What mean… ingrate?"
Anya chuckled at his question. "An ingrate is someone who doesn't appreciate the good that's done for them," she explained, shifting Maximus in her arms. "I was just telling Maximus not to be ungrateful after you saved him from those pirates. You know, barking at you like this… it's pretty rude."
Nereus tilted his head slightly, processing the new word. "Are… you ingrate?"
Anya paused, caught off guard by the question. She looked at him for a moment, then down at the deck. "I wouldn't say I'm an ingrate," she admitted softly. "More like… I was ignorant. Afraid. I didn't understand, and that made me push you away."
"Ignorant?" Nereus repeated with his brow furrowing. "What… that mean?"
Anya smiled at his curiosity. "Ignorant means not knowing something. Being unaware of the truth. I didn't know who you were, or that mermaids—or, uh, mermen—were real. So I was afraid of you. But that doesn't make me ungrateful."
Nereus nodded slowly, as if contemplating the weight of her words. "I see."
Anya realised then that she could help him in a new way. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "since you're learning our language… I could teach you more. Help you get better at
English."
Nereus looked at her, intrigued. "You teach… me?"
She nodded eagerly. "Yeah, we could start right now! It could be fun."
They spent the next few hours going
over basic words and phrases, starting with simple things like the names of objects around the ship—'rope,' 'deck,' 'sail,' and of course, 'dog.' Anya would point to each thing, say the word, and wait for Nereus to repeat it. His pronunciation was rough, but he was a quick learner, and every time he got a
word right, they both laughed.
"Dog," Nereus said confidently, pointing to Maximus, who wagged his tail.
"Exactly! And this," Anya said, holding up a mug, "is a mug."
"Mug," Nereus repeated, nodding as if pleased with himself.
They continued like this for a while, and as they did, Anya found herself enjoying the light-heartedness of it all. After the danger they had faced with the pirates and the uncertainty of the journey ahead, it felt good to laugh.
"You're doing great," she said, smiling at Nereus. "You'll be speaking fluently in no time."
Nereus smiled back. "You good teacher," he said, his words were more fluent than before.
They both laughed. But as the laughter died down, Anya's curiosity returned. She had questions—questions she couldn't ignore any longer. She took a breath and decided to ask.
"Nereus… how did you get hurt? What were you doing in that part of the sea? It's far from where mermaids or mermen are supposed to live, right?"
Nereus's smile faded, and he looked
out at the horizon. His expression grew somber. For a long moment, he didn't
speak. Then, he took a deep breath and said quietly, "I was running away."
Anya's brow furrowed. "Running away? From what?"
He hesitated. His eyes darkened with something Anya couldn't quite place. "From my sister," he finally said in a low tone. "Taurus."
"Taurus?" Anya asked with piqued curiosity. "Why would you need to run from your sister? If you don't mind me asking."
Nereus's jaw tightened, and he turned away from her. "I cannot… talk about it," he muttered. "Family… problem."
Anya bit her lip, wanting to press further, but she could see that Nereus wasn't ready to reveal more. She sighed softly and nodded. "Alright," she said, deciding to let it go—for
now. But she had a feeling there was much more to Nereus's story than he was letting on.
After a long pause, Nereus shifted the conversation with a question of his own. "You believe… your father is alive?" he asked with his voice gentle but probing.
Anya looked down at her hands. Her fingers
traces the rough wood of the ship's railing. "I don't know," she admitted. "I used to think he was gone. It's been so long since anyone has
seen him. But now that I know… that you're real, that mermaids and mermen exist… I wonder. If all those stories were true, maybe… maybe my father isn't still out there somewhere like I think he is."
Nereus's gaze softened as he stepped closer to her. "The bad men say your father, Larkspur," he said quietly.
Anya nodded. "He was a captain. He and his crew went on a mission to find the Siren's Hoard. But they never came back."
Nereus was silent for a moment, then gently reached out and took her hand. His touch was warm, comforting. "It not matter if you believe your father is dead or not. You are already here. Alive or dead, we will find out."
"Thank you for the speech." Anya said almost in tears. Slowly, she nodded
and her fingers tightened around his. They were close now, so close to something that could lead her to the truth.
"And your English is getting good by the way." Anya said with a smile.
"You are good teacher." Nereus smirked.
"You are 'a' good teacher." Anya corrected,
emphasising on the article "a" and Nereus nodded his head in acknowledgement.
Just then, they approached the shore as the first light of dawn began to glow on the horizon. Anya quickly ran into the cabin and pulled out the map, unrolling it on the deck. Her eyes scanned the drawings and markings, searching for their next destination. Her finger traced along the worn parchment until it landed on a small island, isolated in the middle of the sea.
"Our first stop," she read aloud, "is the Isle of Sablethorn. I know you're out there father. I'm
coming."