Chapter Text
Gem looks out the window.
It's a little gutting, on nights like these, to look out the dirty glass and find a scenery of jagged rocks and mercury waters.
The moon is full and silver.
Recently moved into this house, the scientist's yet to get used to the water soaked boards and salt crusted walls.
It had been a month and a half since New Years had carried her briefcases right onto the entrance of the dusty home.
The creaking and groaning still creeps her out, but after all it's explainable. Wood doesn't do well with the ocean air.
It had been an incredible deal though, and the house is incredibly comfy when the flames in the fireplace cast their warm glow on the light blue walls.
After she had settled, and made herself known to the townspeople, Gem became the stranger to whom relegate all cheap knowledge and gossip.
Tales, too. Grand and unbelievable yet common for seaside towns with only old telephone lines to allow connection with the wider world.
Tales of pirates and buried treasures; dark figures and shadows, trees that once walked; talking birds; mysterious fires.
Gem has heard the stories of the ghosts of the cliff, too. The Choir.
A small settlement of sea travellers (probably pirates, or even descendants of Vikings someone had told her) that died centuries ago to a most tragic squall, whose wails can still be heard in howling stormy nights when danger approaches.
The water had reached inland the little town still rooted at the bottom of her hill, Hermit Harbour, killing countless there too.
Gem's house has an incredible view over it and Fellfort Port, on the left side of her cliff.
To the right, white beaches sit untouched for fear of the Mermin.
Mermin, Hermit Harbour's most recurring tale.
Cautionary to the seamen, the town's kids and jealous housewives.
"If you see spectres of wailing women, hold your breath and cover your ears. Do not let them sing you to death, they'll drown you out there, then your body will wash ashore." the town's old hag had croaked the day Gem arrived at the only bus station in town, fresh and lively, carrying a pile of briefcases.
She had started investigating after that, asking around, but the only repeated phenomenon was a stuttered warning.
Merfolk, sirens, water sprites... All famous mythical beings. Beautiful imaginary fishpeople. The old library only carries yellowed copies of mythology guides and greek tragedies. Which hadn't discouraged her, though it had been annoyingly little.
Then, notably, a breakthrough.
"Mermin are hard to spot," a fisherman had warned as he untied his blue nets "When you hear them, it's already too late."
His account was precious for her research, the only person who dared utter something about the forbidden topic.
But he must've been wrong, Gem frowns, looking out the window.
Because right now one is sitting on the beach below, nestled on the rocks peaking out the water, glowing as if it's made of starlight.
There's a droning sound in Gem's ears that covers the click of the door closing behind her back.
Maybe it's just sirens -mermaids, fairies, sprites- in general that have this talent. This alluring, inviting voice;
Gem's curly hair flows with the lazy wind, limbs stumbling forwards guided by Newton's laws.
There's sand blown from down the beach all up to her creaking porch, she follows it like scattered breadcrumbs.
The lights of the old house turn dark as the researcher's feet work against the soft grainy terrain wishing to stop her.
A terrain that's known blood and tears and tragedy, that holds it, ferments it until it's the wine that old townsfolk drink at every meal.
And when Gem reaches it, the Waning Beach, the sand laments under her feet.
It's an awful gritting sound. You'd expect it to scare the mermaid off, but she's too busy, hands moving, face hidden away.
Her song is silky as it envelopes the redhead, as it encircles Gem's throat, caresses her cheeks, soft as it reaches her ear.
The words, indiscernible, are all she can hear.
Her feet carry her towards the beautiful being, glowing body and glistening tail a curvature on the reef.
“Are you the moon?” Gem asks, stunned and drunken on the otherworldly glow.
Her body feels heavy, eyes half lidded and swaying with the melody.
The singing stops. It's eerie at this hour on the beach in front of a myth.
The creature had been carding through her long white hair, webbed fingers delicate in the movement.
It must be a dream, because Gem can't discern any shadows around her, not a shape, not a sound, only the glow.
Gem expects to wake up now. She doesn't.
Instead she hears a shriek then- She's plastered with sand and water, dripping down beneath her to create hollowed holes. Her skin pricks up.
And the creature hasn't left. She's just lunged forward, crowding over Gem with sharp eyes and teeth.
If Gem moves she might get attacked. She's already a dead woman walking. She had been warned.
“Yes” the creature hisses, answering her previous statement. Their voice like grinding rocks, like falling sand, like tumbling waves.
“Yes? Yes, you're the m-moon?” Gem stutters, green eyes wide.
“Yesss” the Moon hisses low, studying Gem. She's quite tall, swaying on her tail.
The Moon (celestial body) is hovering over the horizon, a globe above the mermaid's head as she stares into Gem’s eyes.
Hers are white pearls, her teeth are jagged pearls, too. Pearly white hair is plastered against her wet glimmering fair skin, her tail and fins and the rough scales on her arms and torso glint silver.
“Sun.” The Moon hisses, webbed fingers taking in-between them a lock of Gem's citrus curls.
Gem had gone to bed wearing a yellow robe last night, her favourite. It's long, warm and fuzzy, perfect for the early days of February.
The webbed fingers prod at her black glasses, play slightly with her gold bracelets, necklace and earrings. Smear her freckles.
“I- I am a researcher” she stutters, overwhelmed and brain overheating with the other’s closeness.
“Bright” The mermaid says, and her voice is so heavily accented, with something foreign.
“I'm not the Sun” Gem says then, tongue heavy in her mouth.
“You observe.. Up high?” The Moon hisses, slithering backwards with doubt.
Gem is surprised by the creature's ability to use the English language, and how their concept of Sun applies to Gem.
“I do, yes” she confirms. Her heart is that of a scientist, so this is absolutely fascinating.
The pearly orbs blink, head cocking to the side.
“Out in the light, you bring the Sun?” the mermaid argues.
Had she seen Gem before? In the daylight? And thought she was the one to bring the light? Do the merfolk believe in deities?
Gem wants so badly to know what the mermaid means.
“Me??? Noooo that's the big ball in the sky. I'm just a person” she laughs nervously, darkness clouding the sides of her vision. She can't look away from the dying glow.
“I'm the Moon” the creature repeats, stubborn explanation, immovable fact.
“And that's very cool- But! Me? Just a regular person!” Who's getting really freaked out, she wants to add but is afraid to upset the mermaid. She's too tired to speak anyway.
Clouds are gathering.
The moon has sunk completely.
The mermaid has stopped glowing, though she's still clear as fresh waters in Gem's eyes.
The mermin's eyes are a silvery blue now, and they observe Gem with great curiosity.
"Person?" the mermaid mouths, confused.
"Yes. With feet, not a tail" Gem states, feeling her head grow heavy. The salty breeze has risen, clouding her nose.
Gem tries to blink the fuzzy feeling away. The droning sound has risen again, hurting her ears.
When she opens her eyes again she's startled to find the creature has now retreated to the murky water.
On the shore a few meters back, torso held up by long arms, white hair falls like a curtain over her pale face. Only her nose and deeply unsettling eye are visible.
“Tomorrow” the Moon whispers with finality, then she sinks up to her nose, observing the human.
“Tomorrow?” Gem repeats, confused, fighting the weight pushing against her chest. Is it fear? Survival instincts? Disappointment?
She's not given an answer as the mermaid finally disappears into black waters.
She tastes copper in the air. She must've bit her tongue when the other scared her.
The crack of thunder shakes her brain as it hits the lighting rod up on her creaky house.
Gem wakes up the next morning in bed, confused and dizzy.
She tastes copper in her mouth. She must've bit her tongue in her sleep.
Sunlight pours through the window, albeit cold, it's a nice way to greet the day.
It's weird.
She can't recall going to bed. She remembers looking out the window and seeing the full moon in the sky.
It had been beautiful.