A Promise

Tavern

“You knew my mother?” All apprehension of talking with a spirit disappeared almost instantly. Her mind reeled at the prospect that this spirit, covered in a pall of darkness, knew her mother. “You even know her real name,” it was a statement rather than a question. Grace didn't know what to think. This was beyond her realm of knowledge. And now she knew there was a reason behind some superstitions.

Stalking forward, the spirit, tall and lithe, stopped a few paces before her. “Many know your mother.” The air dropped in temperature, hovering just above freezing. Her skin prickled and shot a chill down her spine. Her breath came out in white puffs, dissipating in the room. She wanted to rub her arms to gather some heat, but for one reason or another she didn't move.

Nothing else seemed to move in the room as the spirit lifted its shoulders. “All of us fear her fate.” It leaned in, opening wide yellow eyes that pierced the darkness that was its face. Grace stumbled back, scared. “You, Grace, need to set it right. As her daughter, as part of our world, part of the sea, it is your duty to correct fate's fabric.” That phrase; it haunted her steps. Ever since she found out what she was. And now to have some duty set upon her shoulders. A hope. The worst kind.

The ropes and strings overhead moved in the nonexistent breeze, bringing her attention back to the present. “What? I don't understand. It's one thing being part nymph, but another to be told I'm apart of something greater.” She gasped, realizing something. She had accepted what she was. It was just something that came to her now. She longed for the sea. It called to her. In that moment everything came into focus. Grace wasn't excited nor was she ashamed. She just was. She was part human and part nymph. She was different than everyone else.

“Spirits have no control in this world,” a hand, at least Grace assumed it as such, gestured to the world around her. “We do not belong here. You are the closest.”

“I am?” Grace incredulously asked. She didn't even know what she was looking for. And what fate is it talking about? The shadow shrunk as the door rattled. It creaked and groaned as someone was trying to open it.

“Remember before that night. Remember what you are.” Disappearing, the door opened and in walked Butcher. He paused at the threshold, straightening after a moment. Something changed. He appeared calm, but slightly surprised. Her thoughts went by as fast as lightning. They just came in and went out to be replaced a moment later by another thought. It hit her hard.

Glaring, she turned to the man, about ready to let him have it when she stopped herself. Her blood raged, threatening to do something irresponsible, but she stayed put.

His lips turned down into a frown as he looked on behind her. “You did this?” it wasn't a question of surprise, but rather curiosity. It seemed like he almost expected something like this to happen, but not her. Grace slowly glanced where the old woman was. She was still there, but just frozen in time. Her cloak covering her face, but her hands were raised in the air, as if blocking her attackers.

Grace choked. She killed her. She let the spirits have their way with the woman and she didn't stop them. And that wasn't all. She was placed on a rope over a pool of sharks, waiting for her to fall, metaphorically speaking. One wrong step and she was done for. And all because some hope was placed on her to right the wrongs in this world. Whatever those may be.

“Grace.” It pulled her back, leaving her thoughts as she turned to Butcher. “The'e be nothin' ya could do. She be a witch. Spi'its wantin' ta unchain themselves f'om her.” Creasing her brow, Grace looked at Butcher, noticing he was talking about spirits as if they were nothing new to him. And she didn't mention anything about spirits. Not to him. How did he know?

“You brought me here, why?” She nearly cringed at the edge in her tone. It was not like her to question people above her stature. But then maybe she was changing. But into what?

Butcher made a sign with his fingers, touching his head with his thumb before kissing it and crossing the middle of his chest. “I be one to see spi'its and talk with them.” She ducked her head, looking expectantly at the floor. “You be something that could break ta witch's powe'.” Grace lifted her gaze, staring into his green depths. “Water ne'er sits well with witches.” In that statement, the servant knew Butcher knew her secret. It wasn't something he would say if he didn't.

“You knew.” She didn't know what to feel after figuring that out. Anger? Sadness? Frustration? Happiness? Relief? At this moment, Grace felt like a mixing pot for all emotions. “How? Why didn't you tell me?”

Butcher leaned down, staring into her eyes, searching them for some answer. “Because, you be special.” Cocking her head to the right, she tried to understand where he was going with this. “A nymph of the sea,” he whispered. His lips curving into a smile. “I could see ta shadow image a'ound ya. It be one of me talents,” he said smiling. Raising her hand, she looked at it, trying to see what he saw, but she couldn't. It just looked like her hand. Her small, thin hand. “Nuff of t'at. Come, we be he'e to relax.” She slowly stalked forward, but paused, remembering a very important detail he hadn't explained.

“Why did you take me to her? What did she have over you?” Grace asked, trying to connect the dots in her mind, but they seemed so far apart and not wanting to connect to each other. She was missing something very big. A huge puzzle piece. The rest was starting to come together, but they weren't connect. Not yet.

The large man heaved his shoulders, sagging as he leaned forward, hanging his head slightly. “She held me spi'it, me ka.” Grace's eyes widen. Slowly it came to her. That shadow, the one that spoke to her, it was his spirit, his essence, trapped within the witch's web. He nodded, seemingly ashamed of letting it go so easily. “It be an accident. I bein' naïve and innocent didn't know about witches, thinkin' them ta be a myth. She pro'ed me wrong.”

“So...is it back? Are you complete now?” she questioned, wondering how he could go on without his spirit, but then she didn't know if he was without his spirit or something else. Butcher smiled, nodding before gesturing for her to follow. It was one that she would remember throughout her life. That smile was one of relief, happiness, and calm. He didn't seem as tense. He seemed freer now.

“We be celebratin' tonight!” His fist in the air, he walked down the road with Grace just behind him. He sang in his native tongue what seemed to be praises and thanks to the gods. She didn't disturb him as they walked into town, heading to the closest tavern. He was attracting attention, but no one approached them as if knowing he would kill them if they were a threat.

She walked letting her mind drift off into her thoughts, sifting through the unimportant ones or filing away a few questions that needed to be answer. “How did you know my mother?” it slipped out before she could shut her mouth to keep it in. She didn't want to ask that, not now when all he wanted to do was drink to his heart's content.

The bulky man pulled to a stop, letting the last syllable die on his tongue, drifting off into the night sky. He stood there, looking out towards the sea as Grace sidled up to him. “I'm sorry, I did not mean to pry.”

“No. Ya ha'e a right ta know.” He didn't look down at her, not that she minded. “She be your mothe' afte' all.” Grace nodded, waiting patiently, expectantly for him to answer, to tell her how he knew of her mother. “She saved me f'om drownin'. Brought me to da ship.” Looking at the older man, she wondered how long ago her mother saved him. How long before she met Grace's father? The man she never liked. Nearly hated and detested with all her being. “I will always remembe' 'er.” She didn't know how to interpret his tone. Something in her, felt he might know what had happened to her. “Now, we best be headin' back.” The night is still in full swing. The taverns were loud and many of the people walked the roads.

The two of them walked in silence after that, heading to the closest tavern, and what appeared to be the noisiest: The Nymph's Head. The irony wasn't lost on Grace as she stepped inside, avoiding the drunken splash of ale as a man laughed. He was dirty, dirtier than any man she had seen on the ship. Tipping his tricorne hat to her before going back to his friends, other drunken men with several Ladies of Pleasure. Their dresses were cut in a square style, corsets tight, and their breasts nearly busting out.

Grace didn't know what to do. She had never been in a tavern before. She stood at the entrance, trying to find someone she recognized. Butcher pulled up along side her, laughing as he pushed a few men out of the way, spilling their drinks. They went to shout, but quickly looked away, scared of the bulky man. “Now, this be me kind o' place!” He placed a hand on her shoulder, thrusting her through the crowd and to the bar. “A tanka'd o' rum!” Grace didn't order anything, being a female not strong enough to handle a man coming onto her. She wanted to stay as sober as possible.

“Oy. 'ey, luv.” A mud covered, smelly short man with untidy hair stood close to her. He smiled, showing his missing teeth and breathing on her with his foul breath. Her eyes widened, leaning away from him even though he got closer. “Wan' ta have some fun?” His ale sloshed from the metal pint he had. But all he did was grin and laugh, clearly off his rocker.

“Get! We want nothin' from you.” This time Butcher wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close and glaring at the man. He enunciated each word to near perfection. It surprised her, knowing he could speak properly and without the pirate accent. The teetering man mumbled curses beneath his breath, but walked away, glaring at the floor. “Ya can't just stand the'e, da'ling." His accent was back. "Men like innocent women.” When had she ever been innocent? She knew more about the world then most from being a servant and walking the port. But then, she had never experienced things for herself. She kept to herself and didn't pry.

Butcher brought her back to reality, pushing her to his other side, keeping his tall frame between her and everyone else. A large post sat to her left, keeping anyone from coming from that side. She turned to the large man, wondering if there was another reason for him to put her here. She could barely see anything of the rest of the tavern from this position. She didn't know who else was here.

A familiar voice rose above the laughter and squabbles of the people. “Another round!” It was one she knew so well, but didn't expect to be here for some reason. Twisting her head around the large wooden post, she found him. The captain. He sat in his own corner, two women on his arms, purring in his ears. Alice wasn't far away, glaring at them, annoyed about the whole thing. Grace looked down, feeling a stirring in her heart as it sank farther into her stomach. She turned, looking up at Butcher as his gaze drifted away. She knew he didn't want her to see that, but in the end, she did. In the end, she was nothing more than a servant with a silly infatuation with a handsome womanizer named Lorenzo. Grace knew she would get over it. Soon Lorenzo would be nothing more to her than the captain.

“We be done.” Butcher slammed down some money, coins of different metals and gripped her arm, pulling her out. That was until a familiar tune came across the room. Grace knew it. It was the one Alice sang when they were attacked by the leviathan. Looking up at Butcher, she could tell he was under her spell. His eyes were glazed over and his grip loosened. She slipped out of his hand, spinning around to search for Alice. As she did so, she found even the women were entranced by Alice's song. I thought siren's songs only worked on men. Grace stood there, staring at the people, wondering what was going to happen next.

She gripped Butcher's wrist, not wanting to lose her anchor in this as she feared what Alice might do. Once Alice put her mind to something, she either did it or failed horribly. And when she failed, she took it out on others. It might not be physically harsh, but she yelled and shouted at them. Grace knew this well since she was usually the one on the other end of Alice's verbal abuse.

Turning to Butcher, she tried to see if he could help in any way. But he didn't seem able to resist a siren's call. Impulsively, she reached up and cupped his cheeks before placing a chaste peck against his right one. Stepping back, Grace watched, waiting to see if that did anything. The mermaids did it. Would it work the same with a nymph?

A moment passed before he blinked, his eyes returning to their normal green instead of dazed and dulled one. He turned to her, staring before smiling softly. “Butcher,” she said softly, wanting to get the others from under Alice's spell, but besides knocking her out, which wasn't an option, they could only interrupt her singing. “We need to stop Alice.” The large man looked at the young brunette, narrowing his eyes.

“Get ta cap'n.” Grace furrowed her brow, but nodded. She wove through the stock still people, heading to the captain still with his women, but they weren't on him now. He was standing before them as if compelled to move towards Alice. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Butcher moving towards Alice from the other side as she stared at Grace, still singing. Her eyes narrow as the servant turned to her target, Lorenzo.

Looking up at the man, taller than her, she gently pulled his head towards her, pecking his cheek before scrambling away, afraid of what might happen. She hid in the crowd. Lorenzo came to, glaring as he figured Alice used her abilities to enthrall everyone within the tavern. He turned to Alice, marching up to her just as Butcher picked her up causing her to screech. “Welcome back, cap'n.” Lorenzo, shorter than Butcher, stared confused up at him. He tried to understand how Butcher could be immune to a siren's power, but something told him it was more than that.

Glancing around the still slightly dazed crowd, he found a familiar pair of eyes watching him. Grace. She stood towards the bar, hiding behind a post, trying to keep out of sight, but when their gazes lock, she froze, not knowing what to do. She could run and then face him later, stay and face him now, or walk over to him, showing she wasn't afraid. Opting for the last one, just so she could get this out of the way, she walked over, but with her gaze down and almost submissive, like any good servant would be.

Lorenzo gazed at her, wondering where the woman from the first night he met her had gone. She took a deep breath before straightening up to her full height and looking him in the eye. A smirk formed on his lips, watching the change, admiring it a bit as well. “You're not affected, why?”

“She can't be!” Alice shouted, trying to see over Butcher's head or twist in a way to see them. “No human should be immune to my song!” Lorenzo glanced at Butcher, knowing he was completely human and therefor not immune, but something happened. And that something happened to him as well, but he didn't know what that was.

“Then that suggests I am not human or not entirely.” Her statement silenced them. She didn't admit nor deny she wasn't human, but it did imply she wasn't fully human. Something ran in her veins besides human blood.

“You! You're her daughter!” Alice screeched, grating on everyone's nerves.

Lorenzo having just about enough of her, turned, shouting, “Enough!” Both Grace and Alice jumped, surprised. He only ever yelled orders and only when they needed to be heard by everyone. “I will not have a siren aboard my ship that can't hold her tongue!” The captain stepped towards Alice and Butcher, gripping his cutlass at his hip. “I have no need for you, so I can just send you on your way, but for some unexplained reason, I have not.” Alice seemed to shrink against Butcher's back, hoping to hide against his dark skin “Don't get on my bad side. I'm gracious enough to let you on my ship, but no more 'I'm a princess' excuse. You work or go home.”

Grace felt her hair stand on end as if something was electrifying the room. If listening she could hear the faint snaps of electricity as if just a few feet over. And she did the most unexpected thing; she got between Lorenzo and Alice. Staring into his dark eyes, she just stood there, silently challenging him. “Move. I have no quarrel with you,” Lorenzo went to move Grace away, but she took his wrist, pushing it down. Looking back at her, he found something slightly different about her.

“Don't.” The charged air seemed to zap, audible now and not just imagination. The word, simple in meaning, seemed to mean more coming from her. She didn't say anything more, just leaving it there, knowing if he really wanted to, he could easily push her out of the way. But this was something more than a servant protecting her mistress. He could sense it.

“Step away, Grace,” he commanded as calmly and softly as he could. She didn't move. She stood her ground, staying put.

“No.” Her gaze dipped to the floor, staring at the grain of the wood. “I can't just let you do with her as you please.”

“I can't just have her do as she so pleases!” he roared, glaring at Alice before turning that glare onto Grace. She didn't even flinch, use to all manner of glares coming her way. From the Marquis to the other servants. “She cast her spell over me!”

“And I released you!” The shout surprised everyone. It even startled the dazed people still in the tavern. They didn't know what was going on, but quickly rushed out, fearing what might happen. They could feel the tension rising. It was palpable. Only some of the crew was left, along with men passed out, snoring away. Grace didn't know what to say after that. She couldn't take it back. But she just revealed something to a man she knew very little about nor truly trusted besides to keep his crew safe including her and Alice.

“Just what are you?” Lorenzo asked.