On Wind and Wave
He fled through the once peaceful sea, long, powerful body sliding over the currents, swift as any eel. They hadn't yet set the hounds on him, hadn't decided once and for all to end his already meager existance. He still had time...night had fallen overhead when his body began to tire, shimmering through the shallows and masking his now graceless movements, and he slipped down to the reefs below, searching for a sunken ruin or cavity large enough to conceal him until dawn. As he searched, his stomach churned with hunger, and without a second thought, sharp claws shot out and caught a yellowtail from a darting, glimmering school, drawing it back to strong, slightly pointed teeth. Not even a day ago, he would have refused such fare, and demanded that it be properly prepared and heated around one of the great water-ovens; now, that foolishness seemed...karmic. He felt so ashamed...How could he have blamed his servants for turning on him? It wasn't any fault of theirs...He finished his fish, and wearily, settled for a small overhang caused by a large portion of reef jutting out over an old rock face. After scanning the depths below, he rested his head against the rough, familiar coral, curling up, much like he did as a babe, anchored by one hand clutching the stone, he felt his eyes start to grow heavy, and much to his surprise, he slept.
The young man kicked his snapped propeller into the water; so much for his damned airplane. All that had really survived was the fuselage, which while it was a saving grace for the pilot, it was a friggin' pain in the ass to deal with. Cid didn't even know where he was in the southern seas, let alone how the hell he could get out of the mess he'd made. All he knew was that he was caught between a towering bamboo forest and the ocean, on a neat little beach of perfect white sand that was capped at the mile marker on either side by towering cliffs, and that he'd crashed roughly four hours ago. The only ways to go were deeper into the forest, or venture out to sea. He stared at the wreckage for a moment longer before dropping down into the sand, hands covering his face as he fought the urge to both scream and cry. Gregory Highwind would be furious that his eldest son had even scraped the side of the car; to tell him that Cid had completely desecrated his waterbird, one of the three planes he'd designed without anything more than a sheet of blueprint...Cid honestly didn't see how he would survive the encounter. Ol' Greg was a hard man, born of a hard land; he didn't take failure lightly, and such a monumental mistake would cost Cid far more than his wings and grounding. Oh Shiva, he was screwed...
The splashing caught his attention, and after laying a last glance on the broken bird, Cid turned his cobalt eyes to the sea stretching out before him. About a hundred yards out, something long and black thrashed, sending great sprays of silver into the heavy air. Suddenly, a splash of crimson glowed in the noon sun, and Cid caught sight of a long black tail, webbed with deep red, curving up into the air before sliding under the waters. The churning seemed to fade, but there was a tension in the air, as though there was more to come...when right before him, not ten yards out, the being who's tail he'd seen shot out of the water in a beautiful arc. His chest was pale in contrast to the black fish tail he bore, though his hair was long and dark, twined with red ribbons that flowed from the bejeweled band on his forehead. Dark red eyes set in an angular face were wide with fright, clawed hands reaching for the sky, even as Cid realized just where the creature was heading...and instinctively, he dashed forward, arms out, boots bracing in the shifting sands to catch him.
He landed almost too short, but Cid dipped down and wrapped his arms around his curving torso, his face pressed against the merman's abdomen as he backpeddled quickly, for he was bleeding profusely from several cuts in his sides and chest, and because the freaky little monsters following him had chosen to leap when he had. They fell far shorter, though, and through fervent prayer and no little luck, Cid managed to make his way back to the edge of the bamboo forest, collasping in the shade as he tried to figure out just what the merman was babbling about. The guy couldn't sit still, and after a moment or two of getting claws dug into his arms and head, he dropped him unceremoniously on the mossy ground. The man looked startled, then outright hissed at Cid, his mouth opening to reveal several pointed teeth and a growing yell that he still couldn't decipher.
"Shut yer damned trap, ya friggin' idiot!" He snarled in return, and was quite surprised to see those red eyes widen, then narrow in anger again.
"I am not an idiot, and I resent the likes of you assuming that I am. I was trying to warn you, but as I did not know your tongue, I had to resort to repeating myself in all the languages I knew. Now I see that that was unnecessary; only western continent people speak so...barbarically!" He snapped, his accent clipped and proper as he glared up at Cid, tail still curling slightly in annoyance..almost like a cat's. Cid snorted in disgust, and settled down on a nearby rock.
"Well, ya ken get over yerself; I saved yer sorry tail, an' while ya don' havta like it, ya ken deal. I gotta lot o' shit to do, an' yer wounds just became one o' 'em." He replied, pulling off his soaked shirt and boots, draping his socks and shirt over the rock next to him to dry. His boots would have to suffer the wet for a while; he couldn't risk the shrinking and blisters that would occur if he let them dry in the sun. The other man seemed confused, then looked down at himself, touching the scratches and long gouges taken out of his skin.
"I knew I was hurt, but not this much..."
"Yeah, well, give me a few minutes ta wrestle the first aid kit out, an' I'll getcha cleaned up. Hell, I'll even make ya up a bath o' sorts from the sea water; I doubt yer one o' those merfolk as can change themselves ta a 'uman form..." He grumbled, stalking up to the plane and starting to dig around underneath the pilot's seat.
"I beg to differ." Cid turned at that annoyingly prim voice, and felt his jaw drop in astonishment. Where there had been a still writhing merman before, stood a young man in a long black loincloth, and while his first few steps were a little shaky, he bore down on the young pilot with an almost fiendish delight, though he did limp a little from what looked to be a broken ankle that had set badly and healed all wrong. He followed Cid carefully after the first few feet, picking his way over the leaf-and-rock-strewn ground, his long arms held out for balance.
"If you will oblige me the bandages, I will take care of them myself." The pilot managed to untangle himself from the fuselage, and jumped down, landing in a loose-limbed crouch before the merman. He handed the small kit over to the haughty, slightly bemused creature, then settled on his haunches and pulled out the pack of cigerettes, slightly crumpled from being banged around. Lighting one, he blew off a long stream of smoke, earning himself an incredulous stare.
"What in Leviathan's sea are you doing?"
"Smokin'."
"Smoking?"
"Yeah. Ya inhale the burnin' smoke from this," He replied, brandishing the cigerette. "An' then ya blow it out."
"Why would you do something that sounds so...horrible for you?"
"Because th' chemicals in th' tobacco cause a soporific effect in th' muscles of yer body. It's great fer stress, 'specially when yer as stressed as I am right now..." Glancing up, Cid was reminded of a curious bird. The merman had joined him in the shadow of the plane, and had started dabbing at his wounds with a few dry gauze pads, when he'd looked up to listen to the pilot. With his head cocked to the side, his long arm stretched out before him, and his crimson eyes large and wide, he looked for all the world like an inquisitive jungle parrot, absolutely bamboozled by what he was seeing. Cid felt a smile twitch at his lips.
"Here, let's get yer wounds tended to. We ain't got long afore it gets dark, an' I dunno about you, but I ain't sleeping on the beach tonight." He made to reach for the bandages in the merman's hands, and was promptly glared at. He sighed.
"Alright, fine. Ye ken tend ta yerself, an' I'll build us a shelter. By the way, so I'm not callin' ya 'fish-guy', what say we introduce one another? The name's Cid. Cid Highwind." He crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised, while crimson eyes surveyed him, crinkling in faint distaste.
"Fine. My name is Vin'ce'nat. Prince Vin'ce'nat."
"Vincent?"
"Vin-cenat."
"Vincent it is. I'll be back in a jiff." 'Vincent' sighed, and resigned himself to a constant mispronunciation; he hadn't the strength nor the heart to correct 'Cid'. Cid...who names their child Cid? He did not understand westerners...He winced as his ankle twinged again, and forced himself to focus on the cuts across his torso. They were hardly deep, but the devilfish sent after him were vicious little bastards, and had left enough bite marks on him to make moving around difficult. He had heard stories about cuts left uncleaned and uncovered when he had traveled with his mother up north, and he didn't care for a first-hand experience. A sharp prickling caused him to hiss a little as he leaned forward; the nicks and bites on his back would require another person's help...he sighed. Well, best bite the kelp and swallow his pride now, while he had a little dignity left.
"Cid? Can...can you care for the injuries on my back?"
"Yeah, jus' gimme a sec. Gotta fight wit' th' tarp right quick." The blonde appeared almost on top of him, a huge blue piece of fabric bundled in his hands. He shook it out, then stretched it between the large metal thing at his back, and a pair of sturdy palms not five feet from them. He couldn't see where it fastened, until a long coil of rope dropped at his feet, slowly being fed through small, metal-ringed holes along the edges. The 'tarp', so he called it, immediately cut the sun's glare twofold, and Vincent relaxed in the shade, feeling a wave of dizziness break against him. He was so tired...he hadn't had more than an hour or so of rest before the devilfish had found him, and it had been years since he'd swam so many leagues without pause. He startled belatedly when he realized that there was a large man crouched behind him, but Cid's firm hand patted his shoulder awkwardly. "Relax, Vincent, 'm jus' gonna clean up this 'un an' get us some food. Whatcha like ta eat?" He was about to answer, when the dizziness came again, and Cid squawked as his eyes rolled back into his head, blacking out completely.
It's carp, I know; just figured I needed to post something for my own peace of mind, and to say I've actually done something in a month. Based off a picture illustrated by animama on deviantart.