The ship had grown louder.
Arilez noticed it long before she cared to question it.
A couple of hours had passed since her run-in with Zypher, and she had thrown herself into her work. The deckhands’ quarters were the last of it, if one could call the cramped, musty space a room at all. Hammocks hung in uneven rows from the beams above, some swaying gently with the ship’s motion, belongings were scattered without thought—boots kicked aside, shirts half-hung, knives and trinkets abandoned on crates and floorboards alike. There was no telling what belonged to who in here.
It smelled like sweat, damp wood, and something faintly sour.
Arilez wrinkled her nose but said nothing, moving through the space with quick, efficient motions. She straightened what she could and pushed aside anything that wasn’t worth the effort. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better.
Her mop dragged lazily behind her as she stepped between the hammocks, eyes scanning the floor one last time.
Something caught the low lantern light.
She paused.
A small glint near the edge of a plank. Half hidden beneath a discarded boot. Arilez crouched, brushing the dirt aside with her fingers before picking it up.
A silver ring.
Simple. Worn. But real silver.
Her thumb rubbed over it once, thoughtful. Then, without hesitation, she slipped it into her bra, pressing it flat against her skin.
Just in case.
Once she got off this ship—if she got off this ship—she would need something. Coin. Trade. Anything.
The sound of shouting echoed faintly from above deck. Followed by thunder. Then rain.
Arilez barely reacted.
Storms happened. Sailors shouted. It wasn’t her concern. She straightened, grabbing her now-empty bucket and wrung-out mop before heading for the door.
The corridor beyond was tight and dim, lanterns casting uneven light along the wooden walls. She moved quickly, passing the latrines with a grimace before turning toward the main hallway that led past the kitchens. And there they were. The same three deckhands.
Leaning against the wall like they had nowhere better to be—laughing, talking too loudly, taking up far more space than necessary. One of them noticed her immediately.
“Oi,” he called, grin already spreading. “Look who it is—”
Arilez rolled her eyes, already turning her head away.
Don’t engage.
Her grip tightened slightly around the handle of the mop. Zypher’s voice flickered through her memory.
‘Next time, you wait.’ Her jaw set.
Absolutely not.
She turned on her heel without a word, ignoring the calls that followed her, and headed back the way she came—through the deckhands’ quarters once more, toward the narrow staircase that led up to the quarterdeck.
If she moved quickly enough…
If she kept her head down…
She could cut across without dealing with them. Simple.
The sounds above grew louder with each step she climbed. Rain hammered against wood. Voices rose—shouts, commands, something sharper threaded through it all. Arilez slowed as she reached the top. The door stood before her, its round window fogged slightly with damp and shadow.
Something felt… off.
She stepped closer, peering through the glass. At first, she saw only chaos. Men moving quickly across the deck. Rain pouring in sheets. The sea beyond was nothing but darkness and motion.
Then-
Mciver.
He leaned over the railing with two others, pointing, shouting something she couldn’t hear. A moment later, he broke away, running toward one of the cannons. Arilez frowned.
He adjusted it—aimed—
Fired.
The boom shook the door beneath her hand. He swore, already moving. Second cannon. Aim. Fire. Another blast.
Then-
Stillness.
Brief. Tense.
Every man on deck leaned forward, staring into something she couldn’t see. Then all at once, they moved to the rope.
Thick. Wet. Straining.
Four men hauled it, muscles pulling taut as they dragged something heavy from the depths below. The rope creaked against the pulley as they hooked it in place, Mciver grabbing the crank and forcing it into motion.
Slowly—
Something rose.
A net.
Water poured from it in streams as it lifted, suspended just above the deck. But Arilez couldn’t see all of it—only the edge, disappearing just beyond the frame of the doorway. Her breath slowed. Her hand moved to the latch. The door creaked softly as she eased it open.
No one noticed.
Not with the storm.
Not with the shouting.
She stepped just enough to see— And froze. A hand shot through the net.
Pale. Webbed. Grasping.
It latched onto Mciver’s coat just as he moved to cut the ropes, fingers clawing desperately. He cursed, jerking back as the others shouted.
The net split.
And the creature inside dropped hard against the deck with a sick, wet thud. Arilez’s breath caught.
It—she—thrashed.
A mermaid.
Her body writhed against the soaked planks, limbs striking wildly as the men rushed in. Her skin glistened in the rain, slick and unnatural, her eyes wide—black. Entirely black. Her mouth opened. Rows of sharp teeth flashed. Too many. Like a shark’s.
She lashed out, webbed fingers slicing through the air as Mciver and the others struggled to pin her down.
They were hurting her.
The thought hit like a blow. Arilez moved without thinking. She lunged forward—
A hand caught her wrist.
She gasped, twisting back instinctively.Darlene. The older woman stood firm behind her, grip unyielding.
“No,” she said.
Not harsh. Not loud.
Final.
Arilez shook her head, trying to pull free. “They’re—”
“No.”
Darlene’s fingers tightened just enough to make her point. Arilez turned back. Too late.
The mermaid was bound now—ropes tight around her arms, her body held upright by two deckhands. She still struggled, still thrashed, teeth bared in fear. Bootsteps approached.
Captain O’Neil, Zypher beside him. Arilez’s breath faltered. The Captain looked pleased.
No—thrilled.
He gestured broadly toward the creature, saying something lost beneath the storm. Zypher said nothing. He just stared. His face was… empty.
Unreadable.
Roland shoved him forward. A command followed—sharp, forceful, unheard. Zypher didn’t move at first. Then his hand dropped to his belt.
The knife came free.
Arilez’s heart slammed against her ribs.
“No—”
The word barely left her lips. Zypher stepped forward.
One clean motion.
The blade flashed.
And the mermaid’s throat bled..
Blood spilled dark against the rain-slick wood. Arilez stopped breathing. For a moment,just a moment, everything went silent.
Then the world crashed back in.
She tore forward with a broken cry—
Darlene yanked her back.
“No!” Arilez screamed, struggling, kicking, clawing against the woman’s grip. “No—let me—!” Darlene dragged her down the stairs despite it, her strength unyielding as Arilez fought uselessly against the dwarven woman's strength.
Arilez screamed..
But the storm swallowed the sound...37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHtIdL6FXyK
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