Seas of Affliction

A cool hindering of light redden the backs of my eyelids, yet I did not feel its warmth. There was no breeze nor a temperature that I could say was too cool or too warm. Everything felt as just. I squinted my eyes open, seeing a muddling of what seemed like clouds, yet I was lying on its infinite surface, the sky mirroring the ground that I now began to stand on.

Florence.

My name did not prick my ears but my mind. I knew then where I was, a place that I had heard of but never experienced. A joined conscious, something rarely achievable between mermaids but more likely between sea creatures who had expendable energy and focus. I searched for the voice that called me, my eye catching Priscilla approaching me. Her skin crawling in simmering vibrations of black, catching the light, and then a wave of red. I’ve never seen her in the form she was in before me.

“Florence?” She asked again and I smiled.

“My apologies, this is a little off putting if I’m to be honest.” Priscilla quirked a brow, her hands clasping behind her back.

“You are in a curative somnolence. It is the only way I can communicate with you at the moment.” I remembered what had happened, what I had done. I readied myself for her scolding disapproval of exposing myself into a weaken mass of limp limbs and absent mind.

“Yes, I suppose I am. Though naturally I am never conscious during any of it and the fact that I am tells me something has gone terribly wrong or I have done something terribly wrong.”

“You’re right, I was less than pleased with your actions against the Laverna’s. In the moment I understand the impulsiveness but you must’ve thought of the outcome of speaking their tongue, that dark language and pouring of your blood while it’s poison ran through your veins.” She gave me the look of a disapproval like a mother to her child would. I sighed.

“I know, it was foolish. I’ve exposed myself to many dangers now. I was only thinking of survival, I would be lost if everything supporting me lost itself. I did what I knew with certainty would end their onslaught of terror on the crew and admittedly out of anger as well, that one of those createns bit me.”

“You’re still young, decisions come quick and often without thought.” I gave her a pointed look at her statement.

“I’m not a child, Priscilla. It’s insulting to having compared my temperament to one.”

“You misunderstand me, my friend. What I meant was that you have not learned the same lessons those elder to you have at one point. There is still much for you to learn and consider in life.”

I humphed. “Or it is that I made a rash mistake, like everyone does. Nothing young minded about it.”

“Oh, you stubborn girl.” Priscilla tisked, “I’ll digress though. There’s more important matters at hand.”

“Oh?” I asked, wishing I could sit for what felt like a long conversation ahead of me.

“You’ve injured yourself into a curative state. A somnolent state can be brought on from many things but curative is the more instinctual for your body. You legs and human features are merely a cloak to your inborn being. It will become dominant over my work if it is severe enough.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“It means aspects of yourself grow more apparent the graver your injury is. Your body is going to repair itself at the rate it know it can do, it cannot do so while being suppressed. So you could have some scales form themselves on your skin, or your eyes change its shade to its natural color. Injury creates a visceral response from you body, Florence. If it ever is severe enough, there is nothing I can do to stop you from completely changing back. For it could be the case that healing in your natural form will be the line between life and death, since the healing rate of humans is considerably slower than a mermaids.”

I took in what she said, knowing that it all made sense. “I should’ve thought of these things. How foolish of me, Priscilla.”

“I can’t interfere with the effects of someone seeing something they know is not human and the actions it could produce. I am sorry but you know if I would, it alters the course of what’s to come, which at the moment is still feeling as right as it should be.”

“The captain knows the most of my identity, only through observations. It is little to go off of though, fortunately.” I remembered as flash of his anger towards me, those murderous eyes latching onto me like a weapon of its own.

“Ah, the captain.” Priscilla remembered something that brought an excited glint to her eye. She turned away and with her, the air around us changed, the light faded into a clouded gray.

“This day was not important enough for you to want to hold the memory of close to you. Upon examination, I’m sure it’ll become all too familiar.”

I was looking down to the sea, a blazing ship crumbling under the heat of the flames, screams of men echoing through the breeze. And then I saw myself, my tail poking just above the surface and then someone brought me down under with them. My mind jogged and I closed my eyes with contempt upon remembering.

“How could I have not remembered?” I watched myself heave the unconscious man up onto a drifting part of a the ship, disappearing under the water again. Then he woke.

“Amazing how small and mysterious our worlds can be to one another.” Priscilla seemed enthralled by the happenchance. I on the other hand now understood his reaction to me earlier.

“He knows.” I said simply. “He wanted to kill me.”

“I think he’s just startled, you’re a ghost of his past, one that he never wanted to see again.” Priscilla looked to me, the scene fading around us as the light returned.

“Possibly. He thinks me a sea witch, the same as our first encounter.”

Priscilla chuckled. “If only he knew what being one actually meant.”

“Then he’d turn greedy like the merchant he is.” I thought aloud.

“Ignorance does not always befit character. Give the captain a chance and trust will form, I feel it.” Priscilla looked down to my hands, “and he will come to you. Greedy you think him to be naturally but curiosity rules after his impulsive temper.”

“While your words are always so engagingly persuasive, I feel that maybe your feeling of a positive turning is influenced by your hopefulness of fulfillment towards our deal.”

“You miss my gaze.” She looked more pointedly down to my hands. I followed it, frowning as I saw that the beginnings of scales were poking through the pores of my skin, already showing their tips of a golden burn. It would fade lighter until all that would be left is white.

“My scales. He will be curious.” I nodded in understanding, feeling the itch of irritation from their prickly growth resting against my forearms and fingers.

“Very much so,” she paused to ponder something, “but there is something else that will draw him to you, something dark and painful. Others around you will want to indulge their curiosity as well but I feel there is a negative light there as well.”

“All this to wake up to? I can hardly contain myself.” My arms crossed, the sides of my ribs started to strain against an invisible force slowly pulling them apart.

“I must leave you.” My teasing comment was left unanswered, a stern look is what I got instead. “You’ll be in greater danger if you remain here any longer.”

“I can’t wake myself up, Priscilla. I can’t prepare for any danger if I’m knocked blind in the darkness.”

“But I can, dear. Good luck.” A dreadful pull of gravity pushed me down under its thumb, I quickly felt as if I were ready to pop when my eyes flew open. I wrenched my head back, the gravity was still ever present in my stomach. I could feel something crawling from my stomach, clamoring to release itself up to my throat and mouth.

I rolled, my head hanging off the side of the cot I was on. I hadn’t taken in any surroundings or details, only that a thick liquid left a bitter trail on the back of my tongue. It spilled out onto the floor, it was as black as it had felt, heavy and burning. I heaved once more, conjuring more from my body. The damning pressure on my stomach didn’t lessen and the feeling of skin braving an attempt of being torn apart ravaged my ribs, distracting me from the pain for only second to focus on the pain itself had brought.

I found myself emptier than an abandoned conch shell, pale and colorless with the kiss of death skirting around its edges tauntingly. Any danger I was in was a pivotal moment for anyone looking to capitalize on it. I was defenseless, alone, and as weak as a babe.

The devil’s hand tremored away from its white knuckled grip around my stomach. I breathed a real course of air, one that I had not had since my rude awakening. I rolled back over, my ribs becoming the dominant feature around me. It was my gills, desperately wanting to form to drink in the salt water, to breathe the air it knows to breathe. They wouldn’t form without the aid of the sea water but they would fight to. My scales had advanced to various spot on myself. The side of my neck, down the reaches of my back and thighs. My legs wouldn’t have any transformation unless, as Priscilla put it, absolutely necessary. The scales were much denser, thicker, and sharper on a tail. They were a separate sort of quality from its sister kind that had formed on me at an alarming pace.

The thing that should’ve been hurting the most was silent. My shoulder housed a healing bite mark, red and shaded in raw pinks and hammered blues. I felt dehydrated and stiff. How long had I been in my curing state? I assumed a few hours but it was becoming increasingly apparent that more than a few hours had passed. The evidence pointed first towards sun rays stretching their wisps of light under the door. And then the quietness. From chaos to silence. That order doesn’t happen unless death is involved but it wouldn’t explain how I arrived in a cot.

The door opened, swiftly enough for my hands to grip the thin blanket from alarm. I saw Theo, raising a brow in surprise. Questions ran through my head. I’m on a cot, covered, out of any open danger. This is quite the contrast from when he held a knife to my knife, accusing me to be a sea witch. If he were to be talking to Priscilla, the realm of what a sea witch is would be better applied to her likeness.

“You’re awake.” He commented, a wary edge to his voice.

“I am.” I responded slowly. “Looking a little different, I’m sure you’ve taken in this observation.”

“Looking more your scaly self,” he grimaced.

“Do I disgust you?” If he would say yes, I would not be offended. If he said no, I would think he was lying.

“I haven’t reach that point in my opinion yet.” I hummed in response, his response skirting around any specifics.

“I couldn’t help but notice that I’m not dead,” I looked closer at my immediate surrounds, “or restrained.”

“You’re weak.” He shrugged, reaching for something around his back, “and if you decide to get frisky, I have reinforcements.” The handle of the pistol turned gracefully in his hand before being set on the empty table next to him.

“Changing it up from a knife then, I see.” A small smirk played on my lips, taunting him purposely.

“I’ve already seen you bleed, maybe now I just want to see you dead.” My face fell, my mind trying to decide if he were being serious or not.

He dragged a chair over, the having returned to his hand, and sat down eerily relaxed. Arms folded across his chest, a leg propped up against the end frame of the cot, he left a long breath out. “You know you’re in no position to try and squirm your way out of where you are, so this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to tell me everything from why you’re here, why the hell you’re mutating into some sea creature and how you fooled your way into looking nothing short of human. No lies, I will know.”

“I’ve experience your keen sense of a lie being present to you one, I don’t need the proof again.” I struggled to sit up higher in the cot, noticing that my shirt had been changed but strips of cloth around my chest to compress my bosom had not. I looked to him questioningly.

“You smelled like rotting fish. For awhile I didn’t know if it were from the sea devil attacking you or just natural scent.” He seemed satisfied with is mild jab.

“I would take offense to you comment but you still changed my shirt, cleaned my shoulder, and sought me out a place to recover.” He shook his head.

“Burke cleaned your shoulder and I changed your shirt, you’re still female after all.”

“Ah yes, I forgot that human men seem to always be preoccupied at sexual conquest than one for things such as intelligence or basic connection. But beyond that factoid, it doesn’t answer to my bloodstained wrap, that is still ever present and a tad noisome.”

“If I’m going to be admiring a female for, I prefer not to be holding my breath the entire duration of it.” His smirk was still confident and easy, in control.

“Oddly enough, that is more rational and less disturbing compared to said woman not having to be conscious but just reasonable smelling.”

“Minor details. As you said, I am only just a human male.” His face fell and cleared his throat. “But let’s return to the issue at hand, I’m growing impatient.”

Priscilla’s words of good fortune repeated in my head. Being honest would put me in a vulnerable state, one that wouldn’t be just personally but collectively as my species. It isn’t often that someone of my kind willingly tells such kept things but it would hopefully be my ticket to something worth the honesty.

“Very well. I won’t repeat myself, this is a sensitive subject as it is.” He stayed silent and I took that as an agreement. I didn’t know where quite to start so I started before the beginning. I started back in the time before he was even born.