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Mer-Man
Barely the hint of a breeze crossed over the waters of the Sea of Rakash. The sun burned overhead like a blister in the sky. It had been a long drought and a hot summer, enough to drive people in droves to the beaches to capture what little coolness they could from its waters. All along the beach, mothers held the hands of toddlers and guided them to their waist into the cool water, pulling them up when a wave came too close to submerging them completely. Older children dared each other to swim farther and farther out, setting nervous parents on edge. It seemed the some mother was always calling for her son to stay closer to the shore. Children called to their parents, begging them to join them in the water and were delighted to find that the heat actually worked in their favor this once.
And so it came that the beaches were full, the young and old alike reveling in its simple pleasures.
The first screams of terror were effectively drowned by screams of joy. It wasn't until pools of red began appearing amidst the emerald water that the stunned people began to flee. Even many close to shore screamed in pain as chunks of skin were ripped from their calves and feet. Missing toes and bleeding, they staggered to the safety of the sand. Word went about that someone had seen pirrhanor fish, fearsome carnivores just bigger than a man's hand that attacked in schools, ripping larger prey apart with hundreds of biting mouths. Dozens had died, their families crying for mercy as undigested bits floated to the service. A mother, sure that a bit of floating cloth belonged to her son ran into the water to find him. The crowd watched helplessly as she was pulled under by the pirrhanor fish. She never screamed.
The water seemed to still, as if the feeding it mercifully hid from despairing eyes had finished. Then it began to bubble ever so slightly as a figure emerged from the blood stained shore. Sobbing on the sands, staring out over the waves, the people watched as a green-finned man approached, step by step. His body was covered in scales and bits of armor patched together from other inhabitants of the sea. Around his eyes, his green scales were broken by tougher orange scales that protected his face. Large, bulbous, dead-looking eyes reflected the crowd over a mouth filled with small, sharp teeth. The creature smiled a toothy smile devoid of joy. Its mostly unused voice bubbled from strained vocal cords in a language none of them understood, but its intent was clear. The people ran, and the mer-man stalked them with a sword edged in razor-sharp coral.
It was a young guardsman that finally stopped the slaughter. Erik was on leave, and had come to the beach on a date with a girl named Michelle. She had told him about the summers she had enjoyed as a kid on these shores. When she had gone into the water, he had been watching her from the beach. He couldn't stand swimming where he couldn't see the bottom. He let her tease him, and insisted she leave him to enjoy the water she loved. Erik lost sight of her during the initial panic.
As the mer-man slowly drew his blade across the throat of a woman he had captured in his cold, hard hands, Erik slammed a log against the thing's head. He had swung from the hip and his blow landed true, but the creature's scaly hide protected it from what could have been a mortal blow. Still, the mer-man staggered, dropping its sword. Erik brought the log down again on its head. It batted the log away, nearly shocking it out of Erik's hand.
Then the mer-man pounced. Its hands wrapped around Erik's throat, squeezing until Erik saw only a yellow end. Desperately, he brought the log around again, knocking the mer-man aside. Then again--this time connecting with the creature's bulbous eye. Finally, the mer-man collapsed on the sand.
Erik gasped for breath, each swallow of air more painful than the last. He tried hollering for help, but his voice wouldn't come. Two men were racing towards him anyway, their hands holding long daggers they had retrieved from carts. They gathered their newly christened hero and the day's villain, both to be brought before the King. A warm breeze suddenly picked up, and rain poured from the sky minutes later, breaking the drought and washing clean the blood.
The King had asked Captain Randor to handle the creature. Randor had newly won his rank by unveiling and stopping a scheme to assassinate the King, a scheme authored by his own half-brother Keldor. Not everyone was happy about Randor's new authority. Keldor had been stopped, but not captured. Many suspected that his familial ties with the arch-villain were a liability. But those who knew the earnest, handsome captain would never doubt either his loyalty or his ability. He was the castle's best swordsman and his strategy against Keldor had saved a lot of lives. As far as the King was concerned, there was no one he could trust better to handle this devastating situation at the Sea of Rakash, which he feared might be no less than an act of war.
Every sailor had a story about dark encounters with the mer-people, but none had been seen on the continent. With the help of his friend Captain Duncan, Randor constructed a special cell for the mer-man. He sent messages to the schools asking for anyone who could speak the language of the mer-people. Until then, the mer-man was held under the name Squiddish Rex, which Duncan thought was pretty funny. He didn't want to make light of the horror the creature had wrought, but he did want to strip away whatever dignity the creature might have in whatever way he could. It was a small victory.
Duncan had grown up far from the castle. He had none of the handsome features that made Randor so popular, but he had earned his position time and time again in defense of Eternia's people. He was leading farmers in defense of villages long before he ever earned the title guardsman. Many were surprised when, given his experience, he still started as a lowly ensign, but no one was surprised to see how quickly he rose through the ranks. His knowledge of strategy was second only to his knowledge of technomagic.
Duncan saw something of himself in Erik, the Hero of Rakash, as they were calling him. Erik's natural engineering ability had already made him stand out amongst his peers. Duncan had asked what experience Erik had with machines, and was surprised to find out that he had none. His skill was nearly intuitive genius. It was the same thing they had said about Duncan.
He visited Erik in the hospital. Erik had a soothing patch lying on his throat. It still hurt just to draw breath, but the doctor said that would pass. They were doubtful that he would speak again. And no one had found the body of the girl he was with at the beach. Michelle was gone.
Erik saw Duncan approach. He started to sit up, but Captain Duncan waved him back. "There'll be none of that, Ensign Erik. I won't have you taking more leave because I disrupted your healing. Besides, you're a genuine hero of the people now. The Hero of Rakash, they say." Erik's eyes were wet with tears. Duncan took his hand. "I know the burden the title of hero can lay on a man, but the people need heroes, Erik." He squeezed the hand. "If they weren't talking about you, they would have to be talking about what that mer-creature did. You're making a lot of people feel better about the world we live in, Erik. You should be proud."
The tears did come now. Duncan saw in the man's face all of the words he wanted to say, all of the anguish he needed to share but couldn't. He felt the tears forming in his own eyes. "I'm going to find a way to help you, Erik," he swore.
The Eternian palace soared high over the earth in a series of nine golden, cylindrical towers banded with massive windows. Smaller buildings formed the body of the city at its base. The city had sprawled well beyond its initial borders until it began crawling up a nearby cliff side, merging with a town at its peak. The houses and small shops were small cylindrical copies of the tower surrounded by the less permanent tents and wagons of travelers and newcomers. The sandy soil didn't seem to stunt the growth of a massive forest that lay relatively untouched around the city. Trees older than the first buildings stood thickly along the road, and small animals watched travelers warily.
Duncan's new rank had brought him into a house much closer to the palace. He knew he would spend too much time in the palace to have his daughter so far away. His and Randor's children had been the catalyst for changing their relationship from merely a professional one into a personal one. Randor had married young when he had fallen in love with a girl from halfway across the planet during a tour of duty. Their son Adam, now five, favored his mother. Randor doted on him proudly.
Duncan's daughter Teela was a few months younger. Her story was famous among the guardsmen. Duncan had found her when she was an infant, alone and abandoned after a fierce battle in which her town had been razed. He had never been clear as to the exact circumstances of the find, but he surprised nearly everyone when he petitioned to adopt the child as his own.
The two children's favorite game was to pretend they hated each other fiercely. It never fooled their fathers, because they were always excited by a chance to see the other. Currently, the blonde boy and red-headed girl were pretending to hunt for giant cats. They weren't likely to find one in the kitchen, but that didn't stop them looking.
Randor invited Duncan to sit. He absently rubbed a large finger along the rim of his mug. He noted that Duncan hadn't touched is. "All right. Out with it," Randor insisted. "I don't want to make small talk while you gather the courage to ask me for this big favor you hinted at."
Duncan didn't smile, which Randor took as a bad sign. "I went to see Erik before lunch today. His doctor says Erik will never speak again; there's been too much damage to his vocal cords."
"I heard. It's tragic. But he's a hero. I'm sure the King will find a place for him the castle, even if he can't be a guardsman anymore."
Duncan's hand squeezed the mug in front of him, but he still refrained from drinking. "That's just it. The King will find a place for him in the castle serving or cleaning or building. He might even cut a niche for himself working on small projects in the workshop, but his potential is greatly diminished by the loss of his voice. And he is so young; there's much potential there to lose."
"Are you suggesting we keep a mute man as a guardsman? That would be unfair to the men who would have to rely on him, I think. It could be dangerous."
"I would fight beside him," Duncan swore.
"As would I. But that's just it. We get to make that decision. The men serving with him would be assigned; they would have no choice in the matter. Is that fair to ask of them?"
"No," Duncan conceded. "And that's not what I'm asking of you either." Finally, he took a drink from his mug.
From the other room, Adam squealed, "I've got one!" "No you haven't," answered Teela. The argument to last the rest of the afternoon ensued.
Duncan put his mug down without as much as a glance into the next room. "I want you to talk to the King about the technomagic program for wounded guardsmen that we discussed last month. I think I can do it. I want Erik to be the first candidate."
Randor pushed his mug aside, pointing a finger at Duncan. "I don't know if I can do that, Duncan."
"You have the King's ear, Randor. I can't do this without you."
"You're probably right. But I'm not sure I agree with replacing our guardsmen with an army of techno-men, or whatever you would call them."
"That's not what I'm proposing. Here me out. This program would be for injured men only. And of those injured men, only those recommended to the program and then agreeing to be part of it. The group would be small. But the good they could do in the field… Well, it would be unprecedented. And men like Erik--they won't have their lives destroyed by one encounter with fate. Those heroes can go on being heroes in a time when we need them most. The King is old. He has no heir. Horrors rise from the jungles and the seas. This isn't the time to trap heroes in their own bodies."
Randor rubbed his clean-shaven chin, staring far into the distant future. "I can see a thousand different ways that this program of yours could be perverted in the wrong hands."
"Keldor's, for instance?" Duncan suggested.
"Are my thoughts that obvious?" Duncan shrugged. "Yes, Keldor's"
"We will be there to prevent it, Randor. The two of us. And I will be the only one who knows the processes. Each success will remain a mystery to friend and foe alike until it isn't needed anymore."
Randor's response was cut off by a sudden banging at the door. No sooner had he stood than Man-at-Arms, the name given to the commander of all palace forces, burst into the room, followed by another guardsman who had become his assistant. Man-At-Arms had the blue skin of the Demyni, a nomadic people that lived on the far side of the planet; he had earned his rank fighting for the King in the Underworld War over the protest of many officials who thought it inappropriate for a Demyni to lead Eternian soldiers. Randor's own father had been married to a Demyni woman, a cousin to Man-at-Arms. She had died giving birth to Keldor, and his father had remarried when Keldor was two.
Duncan and Randor were on their feet in an instant. "Man-at-Arms, what's going on?" Duncan asked, no hint of panic in his voice. Randor had edged in front of his friend, as if protecting him from whatever crisis was about to spill into their laps.
Man-at-Arms had nearly lost his Demyni accent, but listeners who knew what to listen for could always detect it. "The mer-man is gone," he said.
Adam raced into the room, chased by the nimble Teela. "Daaad!" he screamed. "Can I have a real giant cat?"
The mer-man had been held in a tank with plenty of water, but not enough room for it to actually swim. It was incredibly strong, and Duncan feared that, given enough momentum, it would be able to break even the tough glass he had constructed to form the walls of the tank. There were no other prisoners held in the room, and only one entrance. The two guards in charge had been found brutally murdered, their standard green guardsman armor ripped by hard claws. Duncan didn't want to speculate on the kind of creature that could be that vicious and that powerful all at once. Man-at-Arms assistant suddenly paled and ran from the room.
Man-at-Arms stepped closer to Duncan. "Could the mer-man have done that?" Man-at-Arms asked.
Duncan continued his inspection silently, unfolding the bodies for a better look at the grisly wounds. His own armor quickly became covered in the blood of the fallen guards. He traced the pattern of the tank's broken glass on the floor. Finally, he said, "There was at least one other person in the room. I've found some kind of orange fur, possibly from a robe or something. And the glass was smashed from the outside. Although, what actually killed the guardsmen… I'm hard-pressed to say. The marks look animal, but too precise, clearly intelligent. I just don't know."
Randor pulled a sheet over the guardsmen. The other men watched him thoughtfully. A guardsman appeared at the cell door, saluted quickly, and rushed into his message breathlessly. "We found something… You'll want to come with me."
The investigators hadn't actually found the wounded guardsman; he had found them. His face was badly bruised underneath what looked like claw marks, but not made by the claws of the same monster that had eviscerated the prisoner's guards. By the time Duncan reached him, he was already being treated for his wounds by a doctor. Man-at-Arms asked the doctor to leave the three of them; he had asked his assistant to stay behind to see that the fallen guardsmen and their families were taken care of.
Seeing these three commanders of the palace guard enter all at once, the wounded guardsman's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so sorry," he panted.
"Stop that, at once," Duncan's gruff voice commanded. "It does no good to apologize for actions of which we have no knowledge. So, let's start by hearing your story." The guardsman choked back his tears, his face hardening under the mask of professionalism. Duncan's tone shifted, lifting the hint of angry command out of his voice that was so effective with his men. "What's your name, guardsman?" he asked.
The guardsman's answer held no hint of the fear and pain they had seen on his face when they walked in. "Specialist Daniel. I'm currently one of the guards in the prison tasked with guarding the mer-man."
Man-at-Arms, standing on the other side of the bed, rested a hand on Daniel's arm. "Tell us what happened to you. How did you come to get these wounds?"
Daniel's eyes again began to tear up, but he looked at Duncan and forced them back again. "I was off-duty. At home with my wife. My dog." He choked back a sob. "I don't know how the monster got in there. It was covered with orange fur and walked like a man. Its mouth was all teeth. Its eyes were like… they lit up whenever it growled, but… I don't know what you want me to say."
"You're doing just fine," Duncan encouraged. "Tell us more about the creature. Did it speak? Was it wearing clothing?"
"Yes. It spoke in some language I didn't understand to the other one." He glanced over at Man-at-Arms. "It spoke to a blue-skinned man in a robe. A Demyni."
"Keldor," Randor said. "Keldor or I'm a fool."
Duncan refused to acknowledge Randor's deep fear, though he knew it to be well-grounded. "What happened?"
"We were just talking—my wife and I—then the monster was in the room with us. I told you, I don't know how it got there. My dog—my dog barks at everything, but he didn't even get up. He just sat in the corner. The monster's arms were so long. I stood up, and it hit me from across the room, throwing me against the wall hard enough to knock everything hanging off its nail. In that split second, it must have hit Sarah too. She was on the floor. I thought she was dead." This time, the tears broke through the dam Daniel had constructed for his questioners. He cried freely.
"It's okay," Duncan said, patting the man's uninjured arm. "You're doing fine. Sarah was your wife? Where is she now?"
Daniel looked at him hopefully. "The doctor said she was being treated outside the palace. But they brought me here so I could answer your questions. When can I see her?"
Duncan wondered how well he'd be able to answer questions if he thought Teela had been hurt. "Randor, please ask the doctor to have this man's wife moved here while I finish asking him a few questions." Randor considered arguing with Duncan. It appeared that Keldor might be involved; he should be the one asking questions. But this was Duncan's investigation. He stiffly left the room.
Duncan's move had been calculated. If Keldor really was involved, he wanted his friend away from this until he could make some sense of it. "Your wife will be here soon," he said. "Please, continue your story. You said there was a blue man?"
"Yes," Daniel gasped. The monster completely ignored me. It opened the door for what I thought was a priest, but it was just a man in an old-fashioned robe. A Demyni man. I saw his blue hands and his coal-black Demyni hair hanging out of his hood. He said things to the monster I didn't understand. It grabbed me and held me against the wall. Then the Demyni spoke."
Man-at-Arms interrupted, "Did he have an accent?"
Daniel's eyes suddenly widened. "No. He didn't have an accent. You think that Demyni thing was just a disguise?"
"No," Duncan assured him. He locked eyes with Man-at-Arms. They both knew there were few Demyni men walking around the city, fewer with no lingering accent from their homeland, and only one who would have a motive to commit this type of treachery. Keldor.
Daniel continued, "He asked me about the prisoner. All kinds of questions. How many guards. Where was he being held. Security codes. Everything. I didn't want to tell him, but he said he would let his monster eat my wife in front of me if I didn't. That monster dangled Sarah in front of me, holding her by one arm and swinging her back and forth until I heard her arm break. I just thought she was dead, but I still…"
Man-at-Arms stopped him. "We understand, Daniel. You thought she was dead, but you still told them everything they wanted to know."
It seemed like Daniel might never respond, but finally he spat, "Yes, I failed in my duty. I told them everything."
"Any one of us would have done the same thing," Man-at-Arms assured him.
"When did all this happen?" Duncan continued the questions.
Daniel didn't answer. His eyes were far away. "He could have tied me up. He didn't have to do what he did. He didn't have to. I could have been tied up for days, and he would still have gotten away with it." He looked at them again. "But he didn't tie me up. That monster said something to my dog. Then they left. My dog never even growled at me before… Not even when it was a puppy. But when they left, it jumped at me and got my arm. That was my dog. I didn't know what to do. I hit him. I've never hit my dog before that day, but I hit him. He let go and went for my face. I could feel my blood all over me. So I… I grabbed him and squeezed and I… That monster made me kill my dog!" The sobbing came now great gasps, no force of will could hold them back.
Duncan took Daniel's hand. "It's okay. It will be okay now."
Randor walked back in the room. "Sarah will be here within the hour," he assured them. He looked at Duncan. "Keldor?" Duncan nodded.
Man-at-Arms scowled, "He won't escape this time. This city is sealed. No beast could crawl outside of its shadow."
The shadows of which Man-at-Arms spoke held many secrets from even the most astute guardsmen. In even the enlightened city of Eternia, named for the world and the forgotten center city of that world thousands of years old, there existed poverty, crime, and twisted men who would drag the whole city into the shadows with them.
The mer-man, recently christened Squiddish Rex by his captors, now found himself among such men. This long out of the water, he could just begin to feel himself weaken. He was not afraid. Even in a weakened state, he was more than a match for a simpering surface-dweller. But it was with cautious eyes that he gazed upon his liberators. Found in the water, he could kill the monster before it knew it was in danger. On the surface, he knew the thing had a terrible advantage. And yet, the cloaked blue man radiated a sickening power that quelled even the mer-man's pride. Of the two, he instinctively sensed that this man was more dangerous than the monster.
Blue hands pulled back the dark hood that had, until now, covered the man's face. The mer-man had never seen one of the Demyni before. Their land was far from the Sea of Rakash, and their people wandered lands that saw very little water at all. This blue man's face was long, hardened by perpetual scowling at those perceived as weak fools. His hair was the darkest black the mer-man had seen on a human, long and straight. He wore a thin beard and very thin mustache. The blue man's eyes fell on the mer-man, clearly taking a moment to inspect his prize.
"I am Keldor, Mer-Man. This is Beast Man. There are many beast men in the Forest of Gourd, but this one is mine. Whereas you control the creatures of the sea, Beast Man controls those of the land. He owes this gift of power to me. You, however, owe your gift to your royal lineage. As I understand it, you were denied a very just claim to the throne. I too know what it is like to be denied in your own land by your own people."
Mer-Man hissed, pulling away from the blue man and raising his claws. He hissed, "What do you know of my claim to the crown? What do you know of my brother and his treachery?"
Beast Man seemed to grow in size as a low growl began in his chest. Keldor raised a hand, apparently placating the monster. "There are ways to know all the secrets of the world, Mer-Man. And there are ways to redress the wrongs done us." Mer-Man was not surprised that Keldor could understand his language. "Between of the two of you, we can control all the creatures of the world. Under my leadership, we will be unstoppable."
"You want me to serve you?" Mer-Man questioned incredulously. "I am a King."
Keldor smiled a cold smile at him. Mer-Man sensed that the smile was a warning. This man was prepared to kill him and abandon his prize. "We are all kings here, Mer-Man. Deposed kings with no kingdoms to call our own. I am offering you my resources to change all that." His smile faded. "I have no use for the sea. Beast Man has no use for the sea. It's yours. I will help you win it back from your dismal family. And you will return the favor. The throne of Eternia will be mine."
"A surface dweller will help me get my throne?"
"Yes. And all you have to do is agree to serve me until we both have what we want." His dangerous smile appeared again. "As soon as you do, we can leave this city and get you back in the water. Or we can stand here debating it further until you're too weak to save yourself from a human child."
Mer-Man scowled. Here was the truth of it. Agree to serve me or continue being the prisoner of the humans. It was no choice at all. Eventually, the humans would turn him back over to his people and he would be killed. Or even worse, they would try him for the murder of their people and he would be killed on the surface. "Very well," Mer-Man agreed. "I will serve you."
There was a sudden pop in the air, like lightening striking just around the corner.
"What was that?" Mer-Man hissed in his bubbly language.
"That was magic," Keldor explained. "It was a magic that bound the contract on which we agreed to abide.
Mer-Man's bulbous eyes suddenly rolled in terror. His people had no trust in magic. "Magic? Contract?"
"Did I fail to mention that? How silly of me. But you understand. I couldn't let you slip into the water without the knowledge that failure to fulfill our agreement will result in a slow, permanent death."
Mer-Man's claws scratched nervously at his neck. "What about your end of the bargain?"
"You'll just have to trust me." Keldor pulled the hood back over his face. "Let's get out of this cursed city. Beast Man, lead the way."
Man-at-Arms, Duncan, and Randor arrived just minutes after the battle, if that's what it should be called. The guardsmen who had stumbled upon the three villains had been cut down before they had drawn weapons. Marks on their bodies and armor revealed that the monster called Beast Man had slain two. The third had been neatly murdered under the blade of a skillful man's sword. Keldor.
"They were no match for Keldor," Randor said, his face twitching with uncontrollable rage. Duncan put a calming hand on his friends shoulder, but Randor pulled away. "You'll get your program, Duncan. This can never happen again."
Duncan's workshop was just outside the guardsman training grounds, but they considered it a strange place, and few deigned to visit it. The techno-magic inside was a mystery to nearly everyone except Duncan himself and a few scholars that came to study from the Obelisk, Eternia's only school of magic. On the outside, it was a rounded building that looked like a twin of the palace's towers. On the inside, machines and tools hung from the ceiling in a seemingly illogical order. Crystals were held in safes away from potentially dangerous sunlight.
And Duncan, with the aid of a doctor, stood over his first human subject. He spoke nervously, his voice soothing his own doubts just as much as his patients.
"Lay still, Erik. I'm almost done. When we're finished, you'll be able to speak again. But much more than that. You'll be able to see around corners and over great distances. You'll be a master of reconnaissance." There was a flare of magical fire from the final bolt Duncan put in place. "I guess you're going to need a code name."