Tigerlily, the Rebel Muse

This story was originally written on April 30th, but it was the second story written that day and I neglected to add a story on the 23rd of April, so in keeping with my goal of writing one mermaid story per day in the month of April, I am post-dating this story to April 23rd.

art by DollDivine.com

Tigerlily, the Rebel Muse

by Rebecca Fyfe

Tigerlily was a muse. She had the form of a mermaid and the coloring of a tiger. She lived in the ocean, but she had the magic of her voice to inspire people with. It was her job to sing to the right people. She didn't have to be near them, only to picture them in her mind when she sang. Her voice's magic would take care of the rest, delivering inspiration and ideas to musicians, artists and writers when needed.

If you look up the names of the muses, you won't find Tigerlily's name listed. That's because she never wanted to be a muse. She wanted to be a storyteller. When she sang her songs, she never knew what story or art or music would be delivered to her charges, only that they would find inspiration. Inspiration was sent to humans only, so none of the other muses, mermaids all, ever created anything. But that meant that, aside from her magical songs, Tigerlily never got to hear music, or read stories or even see a beautiful piece of art.

Tigerlily wanted to hear, read and see all of it, and she wanted to create her own. In her heart, stories burned, waiting to be written down, but how could a mermaid write anything? Paper wouldn't last underwater; the water would soak it through.

Tigerlily wasn't like the other muses though; inspiration often came to her. And, because of this, figuring out how to write her stories down was no problem for her. She found some bottles that had been used to litter the ocean and some cork, also litter just left floating in the ocean. She took the bottles and the cork and swam to one of the rocky outcroppings form the shore. She crawled up and hid the bottles and the cork away in the crevice between two rocks, somewhere where no one would find them and where the water wouldn't reach.

She knew where some old shipwrecks lay at the bottom of the sea and, using broken bits of seashells, she cut away the ropes holding the sails. She took the cloth of the sails and added them to her hiding spot in the rocks. A floating seagull feather was added next to her collection. She waited many days for all of her finds to dry out. Then she grabbed a squid as it swam by.

By squeezing the squid gently, some of the squids ink ejected into an empty shell she had brought with her. She used the seagull feather and dipped it into the ink and started writing her stories on the cloth from the sails.

For each story she wrote, she would sign her name, tear off the piece of cloth with the story and put it into one of the bottles. Then she would seal up the bottle using the corks. She made sure no water could get into the bottles, and then she set the bottles into the sea, hoping they would float to shore for humans to find and read.

Mermaid muses live for thousands of years. To this day, the rebel muse Tigerlily is writing her stories and then setting them free. Maybe you have read something by her.

The Mermaid Fountain

photo found at mermaidcastle.com

The Mermaid Fountain

by Rebecca Fyfe

I carried my favorite tuna sub sandwich out of the café, deciding that sitting outdoors appealed more than spending my lunch break in a crowded cafeteria. The day was a little overcast, but it was warm enough and hopefully the rain would hold off long enough for me to enjoy my lunch.

I made my way to my favorite water fountain. It was in the middle of a public enclosure with entrances on either side. The stone walls surrounded an enchantingly lovely garden, full of a variety of flowers and plant life. The flowers drew butterflies, and the water fountain sat in the middle of the enclosure, a mermaid figuring pouring water from a large vase into the small surrounding pool of water. The sound of the water trickling was soothing, and between the butterflies flitting about the flowers and the koi fish in the fountain’s pond, there was plenty to look at while I sat and ate my sandwich.

I’d only eaten half my sandwich, savoring every bite, when I heard someone enter the garden. He had heavy steps, so it was hard to miss him. I looked up at the entrance to my right and the man had stopped. He was staring at me, a scowl on his face.

Something about his appearance frightened me, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Was it his massive size, all solid muscle and about 6 ½ feet tall? Or was it the scar across his face, running from just under his left eye and down past his lip? Whatever it was, I couldn’t help picking up on an aura of menace that seemed to surround him.

He started moving purposely toward me, continuing to stare me right in the face, and I panicked. Before he was close enough to touch me, I stood and stepped over the edge of the fountain, entering the water.

“What do you want?” I asked, remaining tense.

“You must die.” He drew a long serrated knife from a sheath on his belt that I hadn’t noticed until now.

“What?” I didn’t have to fake my surprise. I had never seen this man before, and never had my life threatened before. I stepped back a few more steps, grabbing onto the mermaid statue in the middle of the fountain. Should I shout for help? Would anyone hear me?

The man lunged forward again, his knife about to strike at me, when something odd happened. I wavy sort of haze fell over everything. The fountain grew warm under my hand and the man seemed to be moving as if in slow motion. My hands began to tingle.

The water rose from around my feet and surrounded the man, burying him in a wall of water. Then the air cleared and everything sped back up to normal speed. The water fell from around them man, but he only stood still for a moment, making soft gurgling, choking noises and then he collapsed at me feet, face down in the pond. I tentatively reached out to touch him. When he didn’t move, I rolled him over, so his face was no longer in the water. It didn’t matter though, because he was dead.

I looked at the fountain. I hadn’t imagined what had happened. Had the fountain performed some sort of magic to save me or I had I somehow done that myself? Did it matter? I was alive.

My Mermaid Muse

My Mermaid Muse
by Rebecca Fyfe

I sat down to write but lately nothing came to me as I sat. My fingers tapped the keyboard absently. I almost had an idea of what to write, but it was useless. This was the worst bout of writer's block I had ever suffered through. Where was my muse when I needed her?

Closing my laptop, I made a decision; I was not going to spend today the same way I'd spent every day of the last two weeks, staring at a blank page on my computer screen until my eyes hurt with nothing to show for it.

The day was beautifully sunny and I was going to enjoy it. I dressed in shorts and a tank top, placing my floppy sunhat on my head at the last minute. It was sunny enough that, with my fairy skin, I'd be sunburned within minutes where I was going. The least I could do was shade my face with a hat. I hated wearing sunscreen because its oily feel and the scent always made me sneeze.

It only took me thirty minutes to drive to the beach. The plan was to go lay on the sandy beach and enjoy watching the sea before me. I loved everything about the beach, the sound of the waves as they tumbled to the shore, the salty smell from the ocean, the warmth of the sun on my skin and the cool breeze that counteracted it.

Once I walked down from my parking space to the beach, I realized that I didn't want to just lie on the beach. I wanted to go exploring for tide pools and climb up on the rocky outcropping to watch the waves crashing against the rocks. I was wearing flip-flops which weren't the best shoes for exploring along the rocks, but I knew I'd be careful. With one hand on my head to keep the breeze from blowing my sun hat away, and the other holding my flip-flops in my hand so I could walk barefoot, I picked my way up to the highest of the rocky outcroppings.

Up there, the breeze was stronger and the waves crashed so fiercely against the rocks below me that some of the water's spray reached up and splashed lightly against my skin. This felt like the perfect spot, so I found a rock that had a smooth enough surface to sit on, and I sat. I don't know how long I sat there watching the sea below. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. I just know that the sea mesmerized me. A sea otter appeared every so often, floating on its back for a moment and then diving back under to come up somewhere else in the water.

That's when I saw her. Well, I didn't know what I was seeing at first. It was the tail of a massive fish, with gold, pink and green scales. I knew nothing like that existed, so I didn't believe what I was seeing at first, but then she came up for air and I realized, seeing the woman attached to the tail that I was seeing something even more incredible than a large fish.

When she dove under the water and didn't surface again, I knew she wouldn't be back. I drove home and sat down to write, full of new ideas, thanks to my mermaid muse.

Ealandra the Siren

art by DollDivine.com

Ealandra the Siren

by Rebecca Fyfe

Captain Eric knew the dangers of the cove they were sailing near. Regardless, he had no choice but to set anchor in the cove. The ship had taken damage in the previous night's storm, and it was taking on water. They'd never make it to their destination if they didn't stop to make repairs.

It was a beautiful cove, lovely but deadly. The marine life in life the cove was plentiful, but he dared not allow any of his men to go out in the boats to fish, or even to explore the shore. If he let them leave the ship, they would die. They might die anyway.

The cove was deadly because she lived there, Ealandra. Ealandra had once been the most beautiful maiden in her village, or at least, that's what the stories told about her said. A young maiden of a mere sixteen years, she'd yet to marry. The story said that a young prince had seen her while his entourage had been passing through her village, and he'd immediately wanted her for his own.

Eleandra had refused him. Unable to accept the rejection, the prince had sought out a powerful sorcerer. He'd paid the sorcerer for a potion to make her fall want him. But all magic comes with a price, and the potion had done more than make want him. It had made her want all men, with a hunger that would never be sated.

The prince had snuck the potion into her drink, and she had instantly been transformed. Seeing the changes that had come across her, as she lay unconscious, her father had known that the only way to save her was to take her to the sea. He'd left her beside the shore, and never trusting the results of magic gone awry, he left her there. When the prince asked him where his daughter was, he told the prince where he would find her, but, suspecting who had been the cause of his daughter's curse, he told nothing else about her transformation.

Ealandra had awakened alone on the sands beside the sea and crawled into the water. Only in the water did she feel well again. It wasn't long after she awakened that the prince had arrived, searching for her, wanting to take advantage of the fair maiden's need for him which he knew would happen due to the potion he had given her.

When he saw Ealandra, he fell speechless. Her beauty had somehow grown even more profound with the effects of the potion; it was an alien loveliness though. Her eyes were large and black, slightly large for her face. Her fair hair had grown almost black but for the slight shades of violet threaded through it, and her skin was as pale as porcelain. Only after taking in her enchanting features did he notice the new tail she now sported instead of legs.

The tale was that of a giant fish or a beast of some sort, and it made him take a step back from her, feeling the first threads of fear. But then she started singing. Lightning shot through her and around her as she sang, and the song called to him.

The story was told that Ealandra's hunger for the prince was so intense that she feasted on his flesh and left nothing but his bones for the fishes.

And every time Captain Eric had to stop in this cove, Ealandra's chosen home, she sang one of his men, sometimes more, to his death. Captain Eric stuffed some cotton in his ears and started working on the repairs. His men knew the story too. If they were smart, they'd stuff their ears with cotton too. If they were fortunate, it would block out Eleandra's enchanting song.

Magic on the Sea

Magic on the Sea
by Rebecca Fyfe

Captain Jared sighed deeply as he looked out over the large expanse of ocean before him. It was good to be back at sea again. This last stop had taken far too long to secure new cargo, far too much time on land. He reminded himself that it was better to take his time and be safe than to rush the job and get caught with his illegal cargo.

He used to only transport legal cargo, but the new queen continually increased the taxes until he and many others could no longer afford to remain on the right side of the law. He'd still struggled and fought to stay true to his ethics and to honor.

But that all ended the day the queen came to his family's village. He'd been home for a visit, a well needed break from the sea. His true love was there, and he hated to go too long between visits. Emma was lovely and innocent. She had been begging him for years to take her with him on his voyages, but he knew the sea was too risky. He loved her too fiercely to risk her. They were to be wed during the new moon. It was only mere weeks away.

The queen had come to his village looking for him. She'd heard about his expert management of his ship and his crew and she wanted him to ship some cargo for her. The shipment would have taken him far out to sea when he was supposed to be marrying his sweet Emma. Foolishly, he'd refused the queen's request.

Emma disappeared that night. Some whispered that she'd run away, fearing a marriage to a man who would be away at sea more often than he was home. But Jared knew better. Emma would never run from him. She'd disappeared on the same night that the queen had made her request. He had heard the rumors of the queen's magic and dark sorcery. He knew she must have had a hand in his love's disappearance.

He fought her the only way he knew how, by smuggling precious cargo that thieves and outlaws stole from the queen. He always asked one thing of his customers: that they tell him if they hear any news or see anything that might show him how to save his lady love.

He knew exactly what had happened to her. He'd found out the very next time he'd set sail. He just didn't know how to save her from the curse the queen had laid on her.

"Jared?"

At the soft sound of Emma's voice, Captain Jared looked down over the rail and gazed into his love's face where she swam in the water.

"Hello, my love," he said, using the same words he greeted her with every time they met at sea.

"The waters promise to be calm for this trip," she told him before swimming ahead and diving under, her long, scaly tail following her down.

He could see her and talk to her now, but he could never be with her. He watched her swim, a tear falling slowly down his cheek..

The Reaper and the Ocean's Lost Souls

art by DollDivine.com

The Reaper and the Ocean's Lost Souls
by Rebecca Fyfe

People who die never expect to see me. They expect someone in a long, black cloak wielding a scythe, or maybe angels with a bright white light and feathered wings. But never me. It sometimes helps that the dead I come across are in the ocean. They still don't expect to see me.

I am where the legends came from, those old tales about sirens who lure men to their deaths or mermaids who sing songs of enchantment. It's true that I look like a mermaid, but I don't lure anyone to their deaths. They are already dead when I find them.

The problem with dying at sea is that your body gets swept away by the currents, sometimes half-eaten by sharks or other predators and sometimes tangled in seaweed deep under the surface. The sea can go down for miles, and for many of the dead, that means their bodies are never found.

I'm built the way I am, with gills on my neck to breathe underwater and a fish tail on my lower half, to help me find those lost corpses. Because, until a reaper can touch the body, the soul remains trapped forever within it. And then death really would be a true death.

There are reapers who don't look like me. Some of them  look like angels, some of them look like businessmen or businesswomen, some of them look like tribal medicine men, and some of them look like the traditional black hooded reaper, nothing but a skeleton inside. We are created to serve our duties in whatever fashion works best for the environment we collect the souls from. Some of us are created based on the most common belief in the region that they serve.

I'm just one of many here in the sea, but we all have scales, tails, gills and fins. I can sense the dead. Well, actually, I sense the souls that are trapped within the dead. And I find them, so that they don't have to be lost anymore. The human world might never find their bodies, but their souls will never be lost as long as we reapers are around.

So I guess that makes me both a mermaid and a reaper. I'm not really alive in the traditional sense, but that doesn't really matter since everyone I meet is dead too. I just touch them, maybe grab their hand, and their soul leaves their body. Then I can take them to the portal to their afterlife.

Once in a very long while, a soul we grab isn't dead yet and the body is found in time to revive it. In those instances, we take the soul back. The only thing the soul remembers, on the rare occasion that they remember anything, is seeing a mermaid. And that is what started the legends.

A Mermaid Afterlife

art by DollDivine.com

A Mermaid Afterlife
by Rebecca Fyfe

The boat went down so fast. I'd barely had time to put a life vest on and leave my room three floors down before the water came rushing in. I wasn't the only one who drowned that night, or the youngest.

There were hundreds of us on that ship. We'd all been asleep when the ship hit something. I still don't know what we hit, only that it was only a matter of minutes between the ship's movement suddenly jarring most of us awake and the water rushing in. A wall must have breached above our floor, because the water was coming in from above us, pouring down the stairs in a torrent that pulled many people's feet out from under them.

I struggled against the flow, mostly managing to remain upright while the icy water numbed my legs and tried to pull me in the opposite direction of the stairs. It didn't take long before there was too much water in the corridor for me to continue walking against it, so I started swimming. At first, the water swept me backwards, the current too strong for me to fight, but eventually, the corridor filled all the way. I was fully immersed in sea water and had no way of breathing, but that's when the current stilled enough for me to start swimming. I wanted to live.

It didn't matter though. The floor above ours was full of water too. I could see others, some just children, but none of them were moving; I was the only one still struggling. For some reason, I refused to believe that I was going to die, that I wouldn't be able to make it out of there. If only I could hold my breath forever.

Despite my struggles and my will to live, death took me anyway. There wasn't a cloaked figure in a scythe coming to take my soul or anything, but there weren't any angels glowing with holy light either. No, my vision just started to get darker and my head felt like it was going to explode. I desperately needed to take a breath and my body was screaming with pain from the need. Eventually, my body gave out, and death took me on a sigh as cold sea water filled my lungs. Everything went black.

They won't ever find my body though. When the rescuers come, there won't be anyone left to rescue, not even our blue and still corpses. It turns out, when you die in the sea, you get a completely different afterlife than the one you would get if you died anywhere else.

We were all given new bodies, ones that could breathe underwater. We had tails like, well, like mermaids, I guess. Yes, that's right. We get to live our lives as mermaids. I'm told that we will have lifespans that can go on for 1,000s of years. Then we'll get to come back as something else.

We have had to leave our families behind, except for the few who were lucky enough to have family on board with them at the time. As far as our families are concerned, we all died at sea. It's better that way anyway, because we could never survive on land anymore, even if it wouldn't really freak people out to find out we existed.

I'm happy down here. I didn't think I would be, not when I first saw the ones who came for us, all glittery scales and porcelain skin, with their long hair flowing out behind them. But the ocean has a way of welcoming everyone. I feel embraced by it. And there are so many others like us. It's like living out entirely new lives in a world that's completely alien to our first one and yet similar in a lot of ways too.

Yah, I'm happy.