Under Murky Waters

NINE DAYS.

That was how long it had been since the shipwreck that took the lives of all his crew members. Now, Zale was left alone on a deserted island, one that was small enough for him to finish exploring by the seventh day he had been here. He then concluded that he was truly well alone on this god-forsaken place.

Thankfully, the island had an abundance of tropical fruits and fish around the area which Zale caught and collected with ease. That kept him fed and hydrated enough to await the next day, hoping, praying that someone would come and rescue him.

Perhaps within a few weeks, people on other ports might realize that his ship never arrived on the scheduled time and send out search parties for them. Although most of the crew were dead, they still didn’t explicitly know that.

When loneliness struck, Zale resorted to talking to himself. It first started with mumbling the lyrics of songs under his breath, then it evolved to talking out loud. The animals of the island, mainly the birds and squirrels or the occasional dolphin that surfaced nearby, avoided him mostly.

Up until finally, late in the night, Zale slipped and sang a song that he had forbade himself to even think about. The lyrics of the tune that caused his ship’s sinking weaseled past his lips before he could properly comprehend and by the time he noticed, Zale bolted upright.

His eyes were wide and horrified, spinning from the blanket of stars in the sky that he had been staring at to the midnight inky black sea that surrounded the shores. He waited, breath in his throat and unable to properly breathe. It was almost as though he expected the siren to surface, to finish what she had begun but after a few moments without movement in the water, Zale finally allowed himself to relax.

He sank back into the leafy mattress he had constructed, head laid back and eyes closed as he heaved a sigh of relief. However, just as he let his guard down, he heard a laughter then a whisper that came from the sea.

“Were you waiting for me?” A familiar melodious tone asked. It almost had a teasing tone to it, making Zale’s eyes snap open immediately before searching for her figure.

Cordelia was seated on the shore this time, playing with the water that raced up the sand. Her back faced Zale, a porcelain smooth surface that was elegantly arched. Zale wondered if she had been a proper lady in another life, maybe even a princess.

He swallowed the bile in his throat.

“Something like that,” he vaguely answered.

“Oh?” This time, she turned, a smile curving her lips.

When Zale squinted into the dark, he could see a large black cloth in her hands. It looked like sails from a ship, or at least, it was.

“I was going to visit you earlier but my schedule was a bit tight.” Cordelia nonchalantly shrugged before inching away from the water.

Before Zale’s very eyes, her long dark yet iridescent tail shifted and changed. The scales melted away from her, lightening in color until they changed into two separate long and beautifully slender legs. His eyes helplessly raced up her calves, then her thighs, before he quickly averted his sight to face the other side. A blush blossomed on the apples of his cheeks, hot blood rushing through them.

With his gaze averted, he heard shifting in the sand before the ground beneath him tilted slightly due to an addition of weight. When he looked up, he was met by a pair of brilliant gray eyes that towered over his seated figure.

Cordelia had wrapped herself with the cloth she brought, the dark fabric covering her top and ended at her mid-thighs. It was enough to shield her modesty but definitely more flamboyant than what Zale was used to.

“You...” he stuttered, still unable to meet Cordelia’s eyes properly. “You can walk?”

She kneeled to the ground, her face inches away from Zale’s own. He could smell her from such a close proximity. She was sin and sea salt, ocean breeze and inevitable death. She was beauty at its deadliest, an angel of death.

Her fingers lightly grazed his chin, tilting his face so that he looked at her instead. He was forced to turn and his eyes were not able to shut themselves. They were entranced by her beguiling nature, lips parted and pupils fixated on the breathtaking specimen of a woman.

“I have legs, yes,” she answered. “I’ve just not used them for a really long time.”

“What are you?”

Her other hand reached up to play with his hair, lightly combing the strands before tucking them behind his ear. When she smiled, Zale thought he saw sadness ridden in her irises.

“I am life after death,” she replied.