The Hardest Part of Goodbyes

Denvil stood stoic as he watched the sun set. It’s golden colors danced on the ocean waves and glittered like magic. Though the sight was beautiful, his eyes stayed on one fading object in the distance.

It was a ship, The Envoys Morning, that caught his attention so thoroughly. It was the ship that held his lover.

Torriel Adim was the most important person in Denvils life, and he was forced to say goodbye to her, all because Denvil did not have the social standings that Torriel needed. Instead she found another man to care for her in a way he could not. This man would keep her wealthy beyond her belief, and Denvil hated him for it.

So, there he stood, powerless to do anything as the ship faded from his view. A single tear rolled down his cheek, his lip quivering as if he wanted to let out a scream. He held his composure, swearing to himself that one day, Denvil would see the love of his life again.

The hardest goodbye of his life was three years ago. In his sleep he saw the ship fading into the sunset, his body jerking himself awake every night. He still felt the sting that coursed through his body that day, deep in his chest. Every night he laid awake wishing to have Torriel laying beside him. Everyday he worked to get closer to her, to get more money for her, and through all his efforts he had found one job that fulfilled his desperate needs. Piracy.

It wasn‘t the most honest job, but he was wealthier then he had ever been in his life. Denvil was feared on the high seas, and respected by his shipmates. His name, twisted by rumors, was on the lips of every town he docked in. Devil, the pirate that the high lords feared and demons followed. Denvil enjoyed the gossip, smirking whenever he heard a new rumor spread. He hoped that Torriel had heard whispers of his name, so that maybe she would come back to him, and live the wealthy life by his side.

He loved the sea, and the adventure it brought with the tide. Denvil also loved his crew, though it was filled with a bunch of bumbling idiots. He spent his days commanding over them and watching the horizon for any ships to attack. He quickly realized that merchant ships were the easiest, and most profitable, ships to raid. There were so many on the high seas, and each were filled with a numerous amount of items.

Not only were there good amounts of gold to steal, there were also food and clothing that the crew desperately needed, along with men that wanted a better life. Most of Denvils crew were made up of tired merchants who craved to steal from the rich they once served.

They were a rabid bunch, tanned skin, torn clothes, and yellowed teeth created a rag tag look that no one ever truly feared. Until it was too late, of course.

During the many months at sea, the crew aboard the Torriel (of course he named his faithful ship after her) spent their time scrubbing the deck and spreading fishing nets along the ocean floor.

One day, while he watched his crew hauling in fishing line, he heard a cry.

“Cap’in! There are big fishes in this net!” One of his crew members cried out. The rest of his crew ran to where the man yelled, he pointed at the net with a wicked smile.

“There are plenty of big fish in the sea, Corin,” Denvil sighed as he slowly walked down the stairs to the deck. Corin shook his head quickly and Denvil rolled his eyes. But what was in the net stopped him dead in his tracks.

There on the deck floor was nothing he had ever seen before. A mermaid thrashed against the net, her grey scales slashed by the tight ropes. White hair, now matted with blood, splayed around her shoulders as she hissed between pointed teeth. She was monstrous, but her eyes were still the most beautiful shade of honey. He instantly recognized her.

It was they way her jaw was shaped, the way her eyes bore into his soul, the way her hands were still so delicate.

Of course so many things had changed about her as well, he doubted anyone else would know who she truly was. Her dark hair was white, her skin was ash grey instead of black as night, and her body was sunken and frail.

Torriel thrashed against the nets again, hooking a crew member with the edge of her tail as they all backed away. He began to bleed from his ankle and he called out.

“Watch for the spines on her damn tail, mates.” Denvil was still frozen in place, deaf to anything other than Torriels horrid hissing and cries. She reached out a clawed hand as she snapped a few strings of the net. The crew backed up further, and then she began to sing.

Truly it wasn’t singing. It was more of a low hum coming from the back of her throat. Regardless, Denvil knew what she was attempting.

“Cover your ears lads, we just caught a siren in our nets,“ he said cautiously as he brought his hands to his ears. The crew followed his orders as the slowly started walking towards the opposite end of the deck. Torriel’s hum turned louder, it was a sweet and soft melody, but it was muffled to most of the crew.

One young man failed to cover his ears in time, he floated towards the siren with a sick smile splayed in his face.

“Oh she’s not so bad... she’s actually quiet... lovely,” he sighed as he got closer.

“Doran stop!” Denvil yelled along with other crew members. “Stop!” Denvil rushed to his youngest member.

It was to late. Doran laid seas on the floor, through his neck seeped thick, red, blood. Denvil stood powerless, once again, because of the woman he loved. Denvil clenched his jaw and pushed away the dread that grew on his face. He knew what he had to do.

“As quickly as you can,” he yelled to his crew. “Throw the net over board with the weights attached. She is too tangled to escape.” A roar of agreement swept through the crowd and Torriel once again began to hiss instead of sing.

Denvil dropped his hands and turned his back on her. Her screams echoed through his mind as she was ripped off the boat, back into the sea she came from. He closed his eyes and walked into his cabin.

Denvil wanted to see Torriel so badly. He got his wish, and now he would never see her again.