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He couldn’t explain what it was about the ocean.
He was drawn to it, its sharp waves crashing against the shore, the rich salted smell, the enormity of its reach.
Men had found him on the beach, crusted with salt and sand, skin peeling and burnt from the sun. They’d carried him to the physician’s house when he’d woken, delirious and demanding, and left him there, each man shaking their heads at his tale. A girl had saved him, he’d claimed. She’d dragged him from the floating wreck that had been his ship and left him on the beach.
Erenn couldn’t quite remember what she had whispered as she stroked his face, but he was sure it was important. She had sung too, he was certain, soft songs and melodies that were left ringing in his head when the world was quiet and sleep was overtaking him. She had breathed life into him when he was dying and whispered things he didn’t quite remember, but knew were important. Why was it that they didn’t care?
They were ravings of a madman, the men murmured to one another in the flickering lights of the darken inns. It was the sun, others said. It had burned away what sense the boy had. Looks were shared as flagons of beer and mead were downed. No one wished to say it, but it was on everyone’s lips. No matter what the physician claimed – that the blow to the head he’d received when the ship had broken apart and the delirium of the salt water and blistering sun had left him feverish and frenzied – that it was his fault.
Still, when he returned to the ships, the men called him a fool. He had survived for a reason, they claimed. There was no need to spurn the Almighty’s gift. How could he spit in the face of his Savior?
But what else could he do? No one would want to hire a man like him. He could read. He could write. He had the necessary education, even a living wage if he rationed it enough, but there was no status. And even worse, with his father’s crimes still fresh in people’s memories, what more could he do to earn his pay? He needed food and shelter. Begging on the streets didn’t pay enough for that.
It was halfway through unloading their cargo when it started. Soft, mournful melodies that tugged at the edges of his mind. Eren wasn't sure just what it was, but they were lingering and delicate, barely there when he tried to focus on it and disappearing when he was sure he knew what it was. But as time passed, the melodies became louder and clearer, like whispers that he could finally make out.
He couldn't stand it. They pulled at a memory hidden in the deep recesses of his mind and felt as he knew what they were. Though there were no words to the songs, the sadness and mourning were palpable in each note and melody. Whoever was singing was dying, he was sure of it.
Abandoning the cargo, Eren ran in the direction he was sure the singing was coming from. Men shouted at him but he ignored them. The singer needed him. He was sure of it. His hands shook, his heart pounded and tears were falling down his cheeks as he ran.
When had the singing gotten louder? Why did it seem as if it was sad, weak? Why did it make his stomach twist so hard? He scanned the shore, the sand, the calm water and found nothing.
What was that it then?
Eren searched the beach again, certain there was something there. The cave then? That left the only place left to search.
It wasn’t as dark as he thought it would be in the cave. Sunlight filtered in and illuminated the darkness a little. He could make out a few of the walls closest to him, but it was hard to make out anything else. Why then, he continued forward, he didn’t know.
Something moved in the darkness and Eren froze. The singing stopped and the thing moved again. His gut told him to leave. Back out of the cave and into the sand. But he did the opposite. Morbid curiosity to see whatever it was pushed him forward.
The smell of blood in the cave was suddenly too much. Eren covered his nose with his wrist and looked around. A mermaid slumped against the wall, breathing in labored gasps. She was pale, save for the dark blood leaking from her side. A thick, metal harpoon rose from the space between her ribs and hip, covered in bloody handprints. Eren moved closer to inspect her wounds, but she hissed, stopping him. She was too weak to do much else, he saw, but he didn’t want to stress her more.
Carefully, he crouched beside the mermaid. She hissed again, but it was softer, less threatening that before. She still struggled for breath, but she was limper now. There was too little blood in her body for her to function. He could see it.
“I n-need to take it out.” Eren grimaced. He ignored the sense of déjà vu as he accessed the mermaid’s body. He didn’t know how he was going to take out the harpoon from her body, but the thought of it was enough to cause his palms to sweat. He wiped them on his trousers and stared into her eyes. “It’ll hurt.”
She groaned and flailed her arms weakly. Eren kneeled beside her and braced himself. His right hand flexed on the metal, his left on her hip. He knew he had to pull it out quickly to do the least amount of damage, but his hands would not work. What if he killed her? What if his touch did more harm than good?
But he couldn’t do nothing.
She was in so much pain. Her breathing was shallow, punctuated with soft whimpers. Her body shook. Eren closed his eyes. He had to do it. He had to.
Steeling himself, Eren gripped the harpoon hard. He felt it slide through her skin, catching on the edges of the wound, until it was out. The mermaid screamed, arching her back as she did before curling into herself. The hole where the harpoon had been gaped and leaked fresh blood. Eren stared at it before he tossed the harpoon aside.
She was worse now. Colorless skin, a shaking body and the gaping wound leaking vital life force…
It hit him then. He remembered this moment, but in reverse. There had been her arms around his body as she pulled him off the plank among the wreckage of his ship. She had stared him with amusement as she left his body sink in the waves before he was carried away to shore. Her hands had thumped his chest and back until he had spit out every drop of water in his lungs and when he could finally breathe, she had whispered in his ear.
And now she was dying and he couldn’t save her.
“No!” Eren reached for her face, just as she had so long ago, and slapped her. She couldn’t sleep. Sleep was bad and she just couldn’t.
But she wasn’t waking up.
What had Eren thought he could have done for her? He had staunched her bleeding, but she was breathing in soft, barely there gasps. Her hair covered her face but Eren could see she was still in deep pain.
What had he done? He pressed his hands to his face and inhaled. The water. At least he could do that. He would return her to the sea.
Wrapping his arms around the mermaid, he lifted her and rushed out of the cave. That was it. She was a creature of the sea and the sea would surely save her. It had to. She couldn’t die after this.
Eren waded into the water until he was waist deep. Lowering the mermaid into the water, he let her soak before he let her go. Her hair lingered on the surface, even as her face was obscured by the dark water. Slowly, her pale skin was eaten by the inky blackness, as if she had never been there at all.
And, just like that, it was over.
Eren felt a rush of disappointment. He’d been expecting more. Not this. He stared at the spot she had disappeared in and exhaled.
How anticlimactic.
How worthless.
He finally found the mermaid, the woman who had haunted his dreams for months after his brush with death and this was it?
Something brushed against his leg. Eren spun and searched the water for it, but saw nothing in the blackness. A splashed caused him to pivot to his left, but still there was nothing. His blood rushed in his ears. His heart pounded. His mind raced with imagined monsters come to drag him into the deep. It was his just punishment for killing the mermaid, the voices whispered. He deserved such a gruesome fate.
A hand broke the surface and clenched his shirt. Eren jumped, staring down at the hand into the water. She rose from the surface like the stories said they did and stared. Then, she smiled at him.
“You saved me, human. How the tables have turned.”
The smile was pained, Eren could tell. While the wound was healing, it was still gaping and painful. Even as the water seemed to cure the mermaid, her face was still pale and her fingers shook when she did not grip his shirt.
“I didn’t think anyone would have heard my songs,” she murmured. “And yet here you are. What a silly human.”
She didn’t speak again as she wrapped her hands around his neck and let herself be held. Her soft breathes told him that she was sleeping and it was more than enough for Eren to simply hold her. He didn’t know what it was that caused the warmth in his chest, nor the sense of wholeness that filled him. But he was content.
He couldn’t explain what it was about the ocean that drew him, but maybe, this was it.
He was drawn to it, its sharp waves crashing against the shore, the rich salted smell, the enormity of its reach.
--/--
Men had found him on the beach, crusted with salt and sand, skin peeling and burnt from the sun. They’d carried him to the physician’s house when he’d woken, delirious and demanding, and left him there, each man shaking their heads at his tale. A girl had saved him, he’d claimed. She’d dragged him from the floating wreck that had been his ship and left him on the beach.
Erenn couldn’t quite remember what she had whispered as she stroked his face, but he was sure it was important. She had sung too, he was certain, soft songs and melodies that were left ringing in his head when the world was quiet and sleep was overtaking him. She had breathed life into him when he was dying and whispered things he didn’t quite remember, but knew were important. Why was it that they didn’t care?
They were ravings of a madman, the men murmured to one another in the flickering lights of the darken inns. It was the sun, others said. It had burned away what sense the boy had. Looks were shared as flagons of beer and mead were downed. No one wished to say it, but it was on everyone’s lips. No matter what the physician claimed – that the blow to the head he’d received when the ship had broken apart and the delirium of the salt water and blistering sun had left him feverish and frenzied – that it was his fault.
Still, when he returned to the ships, the men called him a fool. He had survived for a reason, they claimed. There was no need to spurn the Almighty’s gift. How could he spit in the face of his Savior?
But what else could he do? No one would want to hire a man like him. He could read. He could write. He had the necessary education, even a living wage if he rationed it enough, but there was no status. And even worse, with his father’s crimes still fresh in people’s memories, what more could he do to earn his pay? He needed food and shelter. Begging on the streets didn’t pay enough for that.
It was halfway through unloading their cargo when it started. Soft, mournful melodies that tugged at the edges of his mind. Eren wasn't sure just what it was, but they were lingering and delicate, barely there when he tried to focus on it and disappearing when he was sure he knew what it was. But as time passed, the melodies became louder and clearer, like whispers that he could finally make out.
He couldn't stand it. They pulled at a memory hidden in the deep recesses of his mind and felt as he knew what they were. Though there were no words to the songs, the sadness and mourning were palpable in each note and melody. Whoever was singing was dying, he was sure of it.
Abandoning the cargo, Eren ran in the direction he was sure the singing was coming from. Men shouted at him but he ignored them. The singer needed him. He was sure of it. His hands shook, his heart pounded and tears were falling down his cheeks as he ran.
When had the singing gotten louder? Why did it seem as if it was sad, weak? Why did it make his stomach twist so hard? He scanned the shore, the sand, the calm water and found nothing.
What was that it then?
Eren searched the beach again, certain there was something there. The cave then? That left the only place left to search.
It wasn’t as dark as he thought it would be in the cave. Sunlight filtered in and illuminated the darkness a little. He could make out a few of the walls closest to him, but it was hard to make out anything else. Why then, he continued forward, he didn’t know.
Something moved in the darkness and Eren froze. The singing stopped and the thing moved again. His gut told him to leave. Back out of the cave and into the sand. But he did the opposite. Morbid curiosity to see whatever it was pushed him forward.
The smell of blood in the cave was suddenly too much. Eren covered his nose with his wrist and looked around. A mermaid slumped against the wall, breathing in labored gasps. She was pale, save for the dark blood leaking from her side. A thick, metal harpoon rose from the space between her ribs and hip, covered in bloody handprints. Eren moved closer to inspect her wounds, but she hissed, stopping him. She was too weak to do much else, he saw, but he didn’t want to stress her more.
Carefully, he crouched beside the mermaid. She hissed again, but it was softer, less threatening that before. She still struggled for breath, but she was limper now. There was too little blood in her body for her to function. He could see it.
“I n-need to take it out.” Eren grimaced. He ignored the sense of déjà vu as he accessed the mermaid’s body. He didn’t know how he was going to take out the harpoon from her body, but the thought of it was enough to cause his palms to sweat. He wiped them on his trousers and stared into her eyes. “It’ll hurt.”
She groaned and flailed her arms weakly. Eren kneeled beside her and braced himself. His right hand flexed on the metal, his left on her hip. He knew he had to pull it out quickly to do the least amount of damage, but his hands would not work. What if he killed her? What if his touch did more harm than good?
But he couldn’t do nothing.
She was in so much pain. Her breathing was shallow, punctuated with soft whimpers. Her body shook. Eren closed his eyes. He had to do it. He had to.
Steeling himself, Eren gripped the harpoon hard. He felt it slide through her skin, catching on the edges of the wound, until it was out. The mermaid screamed, arching her back as she did before curling into herself. The hole where the harpoon had been gaped and leaked fresh blood. Eren stared at it before he tossed the harpoon aside.
She was worse now. Colorless skin, a shaking body and the gaping wound leaking vital life force…
It hit him then. He remembered this moment, but in reverse. There had been her arms around his body as she pulled him off the plank among the wreckage of his ship. She had stared him with amusement as she left his body sink in the waves before he was carried away to shore. Her hands had thumped his chest and back until he had spit out every drop of water in his lungs and when he could finally breathe, she had whispered in his ear.
And now she was dying and he couldn’t save her.
“No!” Eren reached for her face, just as she had so long ago, and slapped her. She couldn’t sleep. Sleep was bad and she just couldn’t.
But she wasn’t waking up.
What had Eren thought he could have done for her? He had staunched her bleeding, but she was breathing in soft, barely there gasps. Her hair covered her face but Eren could see she was still in deep pain.
What had he done? He pressed his hands to his face and inhaled. The water. At least he could do that. He would return her to the sea.
Wrapping his arms around the mermaid, he lifted her and rushed out of the cave. That was it. She was a creature of the sea and the sea would surely save her. It had to. She couldn’t die after this.
Eren waded into the water until he was waist deep. Lowering the mermaid into the water, he let her soak before he let her go. Her hair lingered on the surface, even as her face was obscured by the dark water. Slowly, her pale skin was eaten by the inky blackness, as if she had never been there at all.
And, just like that, it was over.
Eren felt a rush of disappointment. He’d been expecting more. Not this. He stared at the spot she had disappeared in and exhaled.
How anticlimactic.
How worthless.
He finally found the mermaid, the woman who had haunted his dreams for months after his brush with death and this was it?
Something brushed against his leg. Eren spun and searched the water for it, but saw nothing in the blackness. A splashed caused him to pivot to his left, but still there was nothing. His blood rushed in his ears. His heart pounded. His mind raced with imagined monsters come to drag him into the deep. It was his just punishment for killing the mermaid, the voices whispered. He deserved such a gruesome fate.
A hand broke the surface and clenched his shirt. Eren jumped, staring down at the hand into the water. She rose from the surface like the stories said they did and stared. Then, she smiled at him.
“You saved me, human. How the tables have turned.”
The smile was pained, Eren could tell. While the wound was healing, it was still gaping and painful. Even as the water seemed to cure the mermaid, her face was still pale and her fingers shook when she did not grip his shirt.
“I didn’t think anyone would have heard my songs,” she murmured. “And yet here you are. What a silly human.”
She didn’t speak again as she wrapped her hands around his neck and let herself be held. Her soft breathes told him that she was sleeping and it was more than enough for Eren to simply hold her. He didn’t know what it was that caused the warmth in his chest, nor the sense of wholeness that filled him. But he was content.
He couldn’t explain what it was about the ocean that drew him, but maybe, this was it.
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© isayama hajime
The theme I used was "lost and found"
This is technically a part two to this but I think it can also be a stand alone.
© isayama hajime
© 2017 - 2024 Chanson-de-sirene
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Oh my god.