14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Dominick

L ight blue eyes –a tempest so strong; it pulled me from the deck of the ship, water–thrashing. I had been tugged. Had I been pulled to the depths? Am I dead or dying? I wasn't sure.

Two blue eyes–as light as the clearest sky. I coughed and sat up quickly, realizing that, yes, indeed, my body was in too much pain to be dead. I was very much alive. The pain radiating through my body was terrible, but it wasn't half as bad as the worst pain I had experienced before, and for that, I counted myself lucky. I opened my eyes to the rising sun, glistening at the crest of the waves. I was on a beach.

What beach?

We had been out way too far from any land for me to have washed up in any kingdom, even Walden.

Is this Marren Island?

Have I found Marren? I shook my head, and sandy water droplets fell around me. I looked beside me, seeing an imprint there–of a body?

It hit me, then. Someone had saved me. Those blue eyes.

A siren. No–sirens killed sailors. A mermaid? Could I be so lucky?

I looked at my hands and noticed that my gloves were no longer there.

No. Did the person who rescued me take them off? Did I kill my rescuer?

I looked at the spider-like webbing of my inky, black veins. I sat there for a few moments, wondering again what had happened .

Did someone really help me get out of the water? What happened to Sands and to The Grimm? Is my uncle lost to the sea?

I hope so.

I gulped, hoping that he was beneath the many fathoms. That was where scum like him belonged.

“Hello?”

I turned toward a feminine voice, coming from behind me. The crashing of the waves almost drowned her out completely.

I looked back at her, but quickly turned away again, my cheeks heating up. She was–she was hardly wearing any clothes. I had no idea where that maiden had come from, but she clearly was not from Walden. If it wasn’t for her extremely long hair, and whatever small fabric had been covering some very specific parts, I would have seen too much. I cleared my throat and closed my eyes. She, for sure, was not a siren, nor a mermaid, as she had legs.

My hope of finding a mermaid was tugged away, along with the tide in front of me, which was lapping at my waterlogged boots.

How did they manage to stay on, yet my gloves did not?

“Hello,” I said, focusing on the washing waves upon the sand. I heard her movement to the right of me and turned my head to the left as if I was looking at something incredibly interesting. But her face came closer to mine, and she touched my hair. As much as I was confident as a pirate and fine enough as a prince, I was not at all sure what to do in the presence of women. They were incredibly foreign to me. When my shipmates went into taverns at various ports, many of my fellow crew members sought the attention of women. I had never sought out female attention, and as soon as the maidens in those taverns started to drift near to me, I would always leave. I did not need to entangle myself in that. I steered clear of females.

“Are you alright?” I looked at her, focusing on her face–her eyes, nothing else.

I could just treat her as I did everyone else.

That will work. I can imagine that she is not a beautiful maiden. I can imagine that she has a limp and is a dirty, rotten pirate.

But already, even though I did not know that maiden, just by looking into those light blue eyes, I could sense that she was untouched by the horrors of the world. There was an innocence there that made me pause.

All of a sudden, I had this urge to protect her–to keep her away from the horrors I’d seen. That probably meant she should stay away from me. I had seen hundreds of women, in all areas of life, even the royals of Terra. But that maiden? She was the most stunning one of them all.

I could do difficult things. I was a pirate. I was The Cruel Hand. I did what needed to be done.

I will not be affected by this maiden.

“You saved me?” I asked. Those eyes were the eyes I remembered seeing when I first awoke.

“Yes,” was all she said, stepping back.

“Clearly, you are not a mermaid,” I said in frustration, looking down instead of up at her, but there, too, she was not properly dressed, with some gauze-like, white fabric barely covering her lower half. I saw more than I should have of her very shapely, long legs. I closed my eyes and cleared my throat.

I’d never seen so much of a woman’s bare legs before. I liked the view entirely too much.

“You are bleeding,” she said, causing me to open my eyes once again, but that time, I looked at her, only using my peripheral vision, making out her fuzzy shape, pointing at my head.

“I am alive; that is all I can ask for,” I said. I, normally, did not speak so kindly to random people, or even act as if I was lucid, but that maiden had saved my life. There was no one else there. I did not need to be rough to protect my name.

“Good,” she said.

“Is this Mermaid Island?”

“Marren.”

“Are we the only people here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live here?” I found it difficult to speak with someone without looking directly at her. I needed to make her more modest so I could concentrate on our situation and our survival upon that island, instead of on her body. I gulped, taming any improper thoughts of her legs. I may have been many horrible, wicked things, and even though I had spent very little time with maidens, I still knew how maidens should be treated, and I would treat her with respect.

“I do?” she said, but she said it as if it were a question, not an answer. Perhaps, she had been there, stranded for such a long time that she had trouble speaking with people.

“Did you have a shipwreck, too?” I asked as I quickly took off my wet coat and belt. After that, I stood with my back to her, upon wobbly legs, and took off my vest and shirt. I set my shirt, vest, coat, and belt in a pile, then pulled my vest and coat back on.

“You can wear this; it seems your shipwreck took your clothes,” I said, pointing to the pile I made of my shirt and belt, but not looking at her.

“Thank you,” was all she said. After a few minutes of wrestling, I turned to see she was wearing my shirt, but upside down, and the belt was placed like a necklace around her neck. I smiled, holding back a laugh. I had no idea why she had done such a thing, but it looked hilarious.

“Oh, actually–” I walked to her and explained my idea about how to wear the shirt and use the belt to cinch it in place, as the shirt was three sizes too big for her and long enough to cover her knees. I desperately needed her legs covered as much as possible. They were very distracting. I turned again as she situated herself. Something hit me. Seeing her in my shirt, it seemed so personal, but it was the least I could do for my rescuer.

“Much better. What is your name?” I asked.

“Meria,”

“That is a lovely name. I am Dominick,” I said, then paused. Why had I given her my prince name? I never gave anyone that name unless I was at a castle. “How long have you been here?” I asked, shaking my foot to dislodge the sand.

“Not very long.”

“So, you must have been a part of another shipwreck and washed up on this shore? Did you see our shipwreck and come to help?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod.

“That’s pretty dangerous.” I looked down at my hands. “You did not happen to see any black gloves?”

She shook her head. It was what I assumed. I had lost them during the wreck. I would just be sure not to touch Meria. That would be easy enough; I never struggled with that in the past when around women.

“I am blasted thirsty,” I said with a hot, itchy throat.

“Not-sea-water,” she pointed behind us. What a weird thing to call fresh water.

“Can you show me? I could really use a drink.”

She nodded and began walking up the sandy beach a ways; she wobbled a bit as she walked. I wondered if her legs ached as mine did.

We entered a thick, tropical, green forest. Vines hung down, and there were a few insects flying around. The forest floor was wet, and as we walked, Meria, I realized, was barefoot, her feet coated in brown mud and sand. We continued on until I heard it, a babbling. I wanted to burst from the foliage, but I waited for Meria to stop. I moved to the bank of the small stream, which filled up a deep pool. The water was fresh and crystal clear. I sunk my hands into the clear, fresh water and greedily drank.

“Thank you,” I said, turning around to see Meria, who just stood there, watching me. There was a refreshing, earthy taste to the water. “Will you drink?”

“I do not like it,” she said, scrunching her nose.

She would have to get used to the unique taste of water in a stream if she wanted to survive on the island. She must have drank from it before, how else could anyone survive being stranded there? I looked away from her, taking one last gulp.

She did not seem to be much of a talker. That was alright. If I had not had a dozen questions, and if I had not felt responsible for our survival, I would not have talked so much or as freely either.

There was something calming about that maiden’s presence.

“Well, we should probably look for some shelter. If we are here for a long time, that will be important.”

She nodded.

“Have you explored any other sections of the island?” I asked.

She shook her head. I looked around for a few minutes. There was a cliff in the distance. Perhaps, there was a cave; that would be the best option, not knowing what kind of weather was common on that island.

“We need to search that side of the island to see what is over there. I have heard of this island, but I do not know much about it, only that it was once inhabited by mermaids; however, that seems highly unlikely as mermaids do not have legs.”

She was looking at me, nodding her head as I spoke. I watched her for a moment as she took a look around at the stream and its surroundings. She had such unique, white-blond hair with pink hues to it, and it was incredibly long and wavy, incredibly striking and beautiful, even in its mess of tangles. She even had sand in her hair, along with a few pieces of seaweed. Although that maiden was a complete and total stranger, she had saved my life; I would be kind to her. Perhaps, that is why I had given her my prince name. I would treat her how I was taught to treat ladies at court. I also could not help but be kind, as she seemed so timid.

I wondered for a few moments, and I moved my gaze from her, back to the path from where we had come.

Who else had survived the wreck? Had The Grimm survived? I wondered, again, if he was alright. I did not need problems with Thorn, or with any kingdom. But then, again, I had not forced him to come; he wanted to.

I didn't even want to think about Sands, as losing him would have hurt more than I wanted to think about.

“Are you alright?”

I jumped a bit as Meria was suddenly beside me, her eyes looking up into mine. She had such light blue eyes–so light that it seemed they could have almost been white–so strange, so beautiful.

“Dominick?” she said, and hearing my name from her was a strange thing. I usually disliked that name, for it represented an old me, who had died a long time ago when Veeto made me one of his pirates.

“I am sorry. I was just thinking about my crewmates. I hope they are all safe,” I lied. I only cared about two: Sands and The Grimm. Everyone else could drown in the fathoms.

“Yes,” she said, then moved back away from me.

“Well, before it gets dark, we should probably take a look at those caves. We have water, but we need shelter, and I should be able to catch some fish.” She jumped back at my words and shook her head, no .

“Meria?” I asked. “Do you not like fish?”

“I like fish,” she said. “Just not out of the water.”

“Okay,” I said, confused at her response. “Well, we should go look, but if you would like to stay here, I can find you once I am done.”

She nodded, but I wasn't sure what she meant by it. I guess, I would see what it meant when I started walking. If she followed me, then she was coming.

I moved between the green foliage, going as carefully as I could so I would not slip. Falling in front of Meria was the last thing I wanted.

Wait, why? I didn't care what that maiden thought of me.

I do not care.

Nope.

Not at all. I only wish to repay her kindness for saving my life. Even if it is better for the world if I had not been saved, I am too selfish to ever be a martyr.

I was a few paces away from the stream when I turned around to see that she was watching me.

“I will be right back,” I called.

She nodded, not following after me.

She was going to wait there; that was fine, probably better as I did not want to lead her into the unknown–into a place where she could get hurt.

Why do you care so much about protecting her? It’s every pirate for himself.

But she had saved me. She was timid, and for some reason, I felt different around her. I could not quite name what it was about her that was different, but there was something. There was no one else there anyway.

I could do as I wished and not ruin my reputation as the infamous pirate, The Cruel Hand.

But do I even want that persona anymore? Especially if my uncle is dead? No, I do not.

Those thoughts were too deep, so I walked faster and focused on the sights around me. I needed to ensure our survival. I didn't have time for such ridiculous, contemplative thoughts or for my emotions. They were useless when I needed to survive.