Chapter Text
Monsters, Vi has learned, are not as simple a concept as they originally seemed.
It's something many think is black and white, an open-and-shut case. But reality was never that simple.
However, the quaint seaside village of Zaun seemed to think so.
Mermaid sightings, beware! Signs were staked along the stretch of their beaches, on their docks. Hell, they marked even the innermost streets of the town.
Vi always rolled her eyes when she passed them. There hadn’t even been a sighting of the sea creatures in years. Everyone knew this. If there was, it'd be the talk of the town. But then, she supposed, it hadn't always been that way.
A long time ago, when Zaun started as a simple fishing village, fishermen used to go missing. Or worse. The horrifying phenomenon of parasitic monsters became clear to all nearby. As a result, soon the bounty for a mermaid's head was much more than they could make catching fish.
So the people of Zaun became monster hunters.
“It was so simple,” Vander, her adopted father, had told her one day on their fishing boat when Vi had asked him why he fished rather than hunted. “It seems like the right thing to do, doesn't it, kiddo? More money, fame, hell, saving lives while you're at it.”
“Well, yeah,” Vi had said, a bit taken aback by his tone.
Vander chuckled and smiled at her softly.
“Reality often isn't as simple as most would like you to believe.”
They fished in silence for a while. The waters were calm today, though the fish weren't biting. Vander’s question nagged at her. Vi knew that reality wasn't simple, but there were a few things that were, right? Water is wet, the sky was blue, and those seemed pretty simple. There were facts of life that couldn't be disputed.
Mermaids attacked and killed people in their waters. And, sometimes—though Vi prayed these were just rumors—laid eggs in them.
That, to Vi, seemed very, very simple.
“You know, I used to work with Silco.”
“What!?” The statement nearly knocked Vi over backwards.
Vander used to work with Silco? Silco, the terror of the sea? He and his crew would leave in their boats for weeks, then come back with barrels full of severed mermaid heads. He often strode through town adorned in gold and silver jewelry, in nicely tailored clothes. He always made a show of his heroics and, most importantly, his money.
“That was a long time ago,” Vander half chuckled, then his face fell. “That life is not as glamorous as he makes it seem.”
Vi watched him close, scanning his face. Vander was good at hiding things, to an extent, but there was a pain in his face that was so apparent it bled through the façade.
“Not long after you came into my life, I trapped a kid,” he continued, voice low but calm. “Gods, she was terrified. Young as she was, Silco would have wanted her head anyway. But her eyes, Vi—all I could see was you that night.”
Vi chewed at the inside of her lip. That night, the night of the fire. It took everything, her mother, father, and her sister.
“I couldn't do it, so I let her go. That night I quit, and the rest is history.”
Vi furrowed her brow. “I still don't understand. She's grown up to hurt us—”
“Would she?” Vander turned to her, a sharp look in his eyes. “Can you say that for certain?”
“Well—I…”
“Tell me, what do mermaids do to man that we don't already do to each other?”
Vi opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Nothing, she supposed, “but the frequency—”
“You hear about the worst of it because no one speaks when people are passive. No one cares about those stories. They don't make headlines.” Vander said. “Man creates monsters when he is too afraid to look in his own mirror. Man points the finger before it can be pointed at himself. Remember that, Violet.”
And she did, long after Vander was killed — and she was certain he was killed — she remembered.
It had been years since that day on the boat, and much had changed. Not only had she grown into a handsome young woman (if she did say so herself), but much had changed in Zaun as well. There were no more mermaid sightings, they had all been killed or driven away from their shores.
One thing that didn't change was man.
The Great War had taught Vi that well. Vi had seen just how monstrous her own kind could be on her days on the naval ships. She had seen how they'd reacted to the people on the other side of the war. Men and women, though called their enemies, had been drafted there just as she'd been. The only difference was their geological location. If Vi had been born anywhere else, she could have been them.
And even still, even if they were the same species, the same age, same sex, same everything, she and her fellow soldiers were ordered to kill with little restraint.
Vi remembered that first life she took, like it happened just yesterday. A young man, likely younger than her — and she was only 19 at the time — ran into her during a raid on Vi’s ship. They caught each other off guard and, in blind panic, attacked.
If this had been any other place, any other time, perhaps Vi could have made friends with him. Perhaps he also enjoyed fishing with his father. Maybe they could have gossiped about cute girls, given each other tips and shitty pick up lines. Instead, Vi slammed her fist against his face over and over, until his screams faded into pathetic gurgles, and until he stopped writhing under her.
It's when he stopped fighting that the adrenaline drained from Vi, and left her in the absolute shock and horror of what had just transpired. The reality of the blood on her knuckles, the scrapes and cuts his teeth had made on her skin, the man— boy that lay in a heap on the floor in front of her. He died in her arms, listening as Vi pleaded for his forgiveness.
She’d cried so hard she’d vomited, then cried until she physically couldn’t anymore.
What do mermaids do to man that we don't already do to each other?
That’s when Vi truly saw it. She was alone on the ship, despite being surrounded. The empathy that many lacked was astounding.
She'd kept to herself once the war had ended. Part of it was exhaustion, part of it was something Dr Medarda called shell shock. All she knew was that she would never be the same. A fun day at the market turned to the constant fear of being followed. Vi couldn’t help but peer over her shoulder, scanning the crowds. How did she know those same types of people didn’t walk among them? The same that took joy in harming and killing others, in violating them and taking their last shreds of dignity, just because they saw them as subhuman?
Vi had an episode in the town square once during the market. She’d seen a man who looked just like that boy, if maybe she’d given him the chance to grow up. A crowd had gathered around her, watching as she gasped for air on the ground next to the town's expensive marble fountain, the one Silco paid for. It was all too much: the man, reminders of Silco and her father, the sheer number of people around her. For a moment Vi wondered if she was going to die, laying there, heart hammering in her ears. She’d thought they were going to watch her, so pathetic, so weak, and let her die.
To her luck, someone had called for a doctor, and Mel Madara was not far.
She learned that she’d had a panic episode, which became the first of many. Dr Madarda had given her tips for getting out of them, on how to ground herself when it happened. It helped. Only to an extent, but it helped all the same.
Over the years, Vi had learned how to avoid the things that triggered these attacks. She went to town very early, or very late in the day. She avoided speaking to most people. She kept her head down, rarely looking anyone in the eyes.
She moved out of her apartment and into Vander’s old boat, upgrading the below deck into a sort of cabin. It was small and not exactly practical, but it was hers. And her dad’s. She saw him everywhere, and her dad was safe. Her episodes diminished in frequency not long after she had moved in.
Almost all her time was spent at sea now. Her boat wasn’t nearly as big as commercial fishing ships, but even still she was able to catch enough to keep herself fed and to make a bit of money on the side. It wasn’t much, and it was a simple, boring life, but it was peaceful, and it was hers.
The only thing Vi couldn’t shake was the loneliness, but her lack of trust in people didn’t allow her to get close to anyone. The only people she could call friends, though they were more like acquaintances, was her doctor and her nurse, Elora.
“You really need a girlfriend,” Elora had said one day when Vi was hanging around in the office a bit longer than the average patient. “Or some real friends. Not that I don’t like our talks.”
And she was right. But even still, Vi couldn’t bring herself to.
That brought her to today, sitting back in Vander’s old chair, with a line cast out on the calm waters. The cool spring air and ocean wind nipped at her face, but Vi had a heavy coat on. She’d bought it recently with the money she’d saved selling fish to local venders. It was supposed to have a sort of shield that protected from the wind and it was working quite well.
She shifted in her seat. Vander had always called this chair lucky. He’d said that he caught his biggest fish while sitting right where she was now. He’d told her that one day she would, too.
While Vi had caught some big fish before, her catches had been nothing like the marlin Vander had snagged in his early years. Vi wasn’t exactly sure how catching one fish made a chair special, but she sat in it every day, regardless. It may never catch her a marlin, but it could bring her closer to her dad.
The steady rocking of the boat grounded her. Mel had been surprised at first, warning her against the idea at first as she had spent so much of the Great War at sea. But this was different. This was where she spent most of her formative years. This is where she was safest.
She supposed that’s why she renamed the boat Vander. Boats always had feminine names, but who the hell would care if she named hers after a man?
Vi closed her eyes, focused on the movement of the boat, of the gulls squawking in the distance, of the cold air on her nose, and the smell of salt. This is home. This is safe. This is where she felt closest to him. The only one who ever understood.
Vi had become so relaxed in this half-asleep state, she missed the tug on Vander’s old fishing rod (yes, the very same one he caught the merlin with; he was very sentimental, and so was Vi). It slid out from between her knees, dropping against the wooden deck with a thump that shook Vi from her state. But not fast enough to catch it before it was hauled off the deck.
Vi’s eyes widened in horror.
“No!” she cried to absolutely no one as she watched Vander’s fishing rod disappear below the surface of the water. Vi repeated it over and over in a panic, and before she let herself think, dove into the water after it.
The frigid water shocked her system and choked the air out of her lungs. She still scanned the water for Vander’s fishing rod, but there was nothing but the blackness of the ocean under her. Vi coughed, and involuntarily sucked in a gulp of water. It burned her lungs, just as the freezing water burned her fingers and toes. She looked to the surface, gasping as she realized just how deep she’d already sunk. Her heavy jacket and trousers had dragged her deeper and deeper, and felt so heavy on her arms and legs when she desperately tried to swim back to her boat.
Vi couldn’t tell if it was the salt water or tears stinging her eyes. Can you even cry underwater? Surely you can. Either way, Vi felt like a failure. A waste. Her life had been a waste, hadn’t it? What had she done? Nothing worth celebrating, that's for certain. She’d tossed all her military awards into the ocean the moment she was home. She didn’t deserve one of them, not now that that boy would never return home.
Perhaps this was for the best. It’s not like anyone would miss her. Elora wouldn’t have to deal with her pathetic loneliness when Vi stopped by for refills of her medication, and Dr Madarda certainly would not miss treating her infected cuts and head colds.
She could see her mom, her dad, Powder, and Vander.
But did she even want to? Would he be disappointed in her? Did he know about that boy?
Vi let her eyes close. She couldn’t bear to look at the surface any longer. There was no point. She was going to die here. The fish she ate would eat her in turn. This is how it should be. This was for the best. This was peace.
The peaceful, euphoric feeling was cut short abruptly as her lungs heaved and choked for air. She was freezing, somewhere on the surface. Warm hands turned her onto her front as she vomited mouthfuls of salt water.
“It's okay, you're safe now,” a calm, feminine voice cooed. “Just breathe, breathe.”
Vi balled her hands into fists as she heaved. Her throat and lungs burned. She could hardly tell if she was gagging or sobbing.
It was over, it was supposed to be over. All those lonely nights, all her episodes, everything. She was supposed to go home. See her family. Gods she'd never longed for death like she just did and now—
“Hush, you're going to be alright.”
Vi froze, she'd been so busy hacking out her lungs that she hadn't entirely processed where she was, or who she was with. Her eyes shot open, and she found herself staring down at Vander’s deck. The contents of her lunch and water spilled across the wooden grain.
“Fuck,” she sobbed. Then turned her eyes to the sea.
There were no other bots around her. No other signs of life. Just her, Vander and—
Panic set in her bones, and she turned quickly onto her back.
There was a woman sitting behind her, naked but not quite human. Her skin was too pale, almost blue, her lips and nipples were tainted darker. Her hair unnaturally blue, her ears had a slight point to them, and her teeth were just a bit too sharp. There looked to be smooth scales along her forearms.
Oh .
Oh fuck.
“Fuck!” Vi shoved herself into a seated position and quickly scrambled backwards. Her back slammed against the cabin. “Stay back—don't come any closer!”
The mermaid furrowed her brow and scoffed. “Are you bloody serious? I just saved your life.”
“I—” Vi tried to speak, but her mouth was dry, and her throat was sore from heaving. Her eyes darted down to herself, and Vi quickly realized she had been stripped. Her widened eyes darted from her belly, to the creature in front of her.
The look of offense on the mermaid's face darkened.
“I saved your fucking life, you imbecilic fool,” she snapped, blue eyes burned with anger. “I went out of my way to drag your ass out from the depths, into this boat, I stripped you of your cold, wet clothes, and you really think I would violate you!?”
“I—”
“No, I'm not hearing it, not anything,” She stood up in front of Vi and turned to the edge of the boat. Her back was patterned with blue and purple scales, the purple wisped in waves through the blue. “Have a nice life.”
Before Vi could say another word, she dove into the sea, leaving Vi naked, alone, and even more confused than before.
The interaction had happened so fast, and Vi’s head was still foggy from lack of oxygen. Once she was strong enough, she gathered her wet clothes and crawled into the ship's cabin. She should probably hang her clothes up and scrub the vomit from the ship's deck but Gods she was exhausted. She hardly had the energy to toss the clothes over the back of her helm seat and crawled down to her living space below deck.
Should she sleep after an experience like that? Maybe not. But her eyes were heavy and her mind weighed with fog. Her teeth chattered with the cold, and her fingers and toes were tinged blue. Everything was blue today.
Vi crawled into bed, underneath her thick quilt and hummed at the relief of warmth. It wasn't long before sleep took her, and it wouldn't be long before reality struck her, either.