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Chapter 3
The studded fisherman received little rest from the night before. Not even the liquor could numb his mind long enough for sleep to take hold. So he left port a little earlier than planned. The waters were calm and would remain so until the sun came up. Not that he would see the sun. The clouds clung to the blue sky, extending the darkness well into mid-morning. A single break in those clouds caused him to look up, taking in the unexpected sunshine as a good omen.
Gajeel had the job of three men aboard his ship. He worked fast, tying off loose ends and controlling the crane from a mobile control panel. It has been awhile since he had sailed the vessel alone, what with his cousin out for the day.
The harbor was rough. The water constantly pushing the fishing boat towards the high cliffs. The land curved around the watery expanse, separating it from passing boaters.
Gajeel took another look at the map pinned against the wall, confirming the landmarks. He flicked the glass on the depth meter gauge, comparing it to his notes from last night.
So far, he was in the right place. He could tell the harbor used to be beautiful. It opened to the east, allowing a glorious view of the rising summer sun, but since the early winter had killed most of the cliffside fauna and reflected gray skies in the water, it was quite dreary. The shift in solar light cast the harbor in shadow.
He scanned the horizon as he pulled the vessel into position.
There were still no other fishing boats on the water. He gained an eerie sense of peace from his solitude. Gajeel's subconscious naturally restrained speaking out loud, but out here, he could curse at the sky and no one would be able to hear him.
He chuckled to himself, quite proud of his ingenuity. There was advantage to having a boat as little as his. He noted the pillars of rock and coral hidden beneath the water's surface. Any ship bigger than his would have been wrecked a long time ago.
Idiots, he thought.
It took him awhile to get the boat situated where it would not buckle under the force of the waves, but he felt confident in his location. Not too close to the cliffs and not too far out in the sea. If he were a fish, it would be the perfect place to hide from predators.
He viciously grinned. Of course, he was a predator too.
Elated that he didn't have to wait as long as his usual casting technique, Gajeel flipped the switch to reel in the net.
It struggled under a heavy weight and Gajeel adjusted the settings. The mechanisms clanked promisingly as the net rose out of the water.
A wild smile spread over fanged teeth as the net overflowed with slippery fish jumping over the sides. A triumphant laugh escaped him, and he hollered with joy.
He had never seen so many fish caught in one net before. Surely it was a record.
He toggled the switches and brought the load aboard, lowering it below deck into one of the containers. He shut the crane off, done testing his luck there. He would come back again tomorrow to try a new area of the same region. Besides, he had caught more fish than he would have in an entire week at the Common's. He could call it a good day.
He bolted the deck doors until the vessel shuddered. On edge, he looked up, standing carefully and eyeing the nearest cliffside. Taking a peek over the railing, he was confident he hadn't hit anything.
The boat dipped unnaturally between waves and shuddered again. The vessel inched closer to the cliffs and Gajeel grabbed the harpoon hanging by the steep ladder to the helm.
He stood at the starboard side of the bow, eyes trained on the water lapping below. He was certain something was screwing with him. If it was big enough to move his ship, it was big enough to mount on his wall.
Levy awoke to black water surrounding her. Curious, she looked to the surface to see an oval boat had cast a shadow over her and her sanctuary. Furthermore, the changing of the tide had brought with it colder water from the deep sea.
Something large broke the surface and the mermaid retreated against the wall, watching as the boat's anchor landed. It dragged along the sand, kicking up clouds of dust until it hooked around a load bearing column of rock.
The waves tossed the little vessel violently, which tightened the chain linking it to the anchor. It jerked against the pillar, threatening to topple Levy's sanctuary.
The little siren darted out to the offending contraption, yanking on the large hooks to dislodge it.
It was stuck fast, but she was smart. She waited for the ebb of the waves to slacken the chain, removing the heavy hooks from destroying her refuge. Now free, the anchor skittered across the sandy floor and latched itself to a different, but still secure outcropping.
Levy was wary of the ship, but something familiar distorted the waves, as though it were raining in only one section nearest the boat.
"A fisherman," she muttered.
She stared in horror as she realized that the blurred lines in the water was a net. He took...an entire school of harmless fish.
She skirted around an encroaching cloud of ice water until she reached the chain linking the anchor to the ship. He was a danger; a danger to the cove. She followed the links up until she hovered just under the surface, watching a hulking figure move across the deck of the ship.
Levy had witnessed many human boats since she had been old enough to travel the waters. She knew if humans found an area they liked to fish in, they stayed. They stayed until the ocean died, like her old home, the Commons.
She remained perfectly still, hugging the broad links to her chest. She knew he couldn't see her; her blue hair lent the best of camouflage in the water. What was she going to do? Drown him? That seemed a little too far for Levy. Despite the fact he was human, he didn't choose to be that way.
She shook her head of her doubtful thoughts. Drown him. It was the only way for humans to learn.
She could clearly see the bipedal before her: shadowed face, two legs, two arms, and no fins to speak of. He was probably as ugly as the stories say, too. Flat teeth, flat hair, colorless; she almost felt sorry for him. That is, until he moved.
Gajeel stood stock still against the rise and fall of the bow. He lifted the pointed rod overhead, now seeing white flesh wrapped around the anchor chain.
He inhaled a steadying breath, loosing the harpoon with measured strength.
He watched on with glee as the animal writhed in growing tendrils of red blood. A successful catch.
Levy had no time to move; a bolt of lightning shot through the water. Piercing skin and scales, she screamed.