Waves crashed against the ship's bough, and the sound of it rang in Queen Athena's ears. She was swaying lightly, but the wind stung her skin and dried her scales. She was exhausted, and afraid. Afraid in the way that only mer could feel. A fish out of water, and she felt her life ebbing away.
There was nothing in her heart that she allowed but hope. Hope that her husband got their daughters out of the reef, hope that they were safe. King Triton was many things, but he was not the kind of man to leave their children to save their mother. The queen lay on netting that scored her, and she had faith that they would live.
Her world was dimming now, and she cracked her eyes open one last time to look out into the sea. Her sea. Her youngest was only five, and Athena hoped that she would learn of her with love.
She felt the waves of Death now, and sent out a prayer to the waters that dripped down to the ocean below.
Let them be happy, even without me.
She woke up from a nightmare with nothing around her but wood. She was in some sort of tub, filled to the brim with water that cooled her terror. There was little light in the room, save for the moonlight coming through the window on the opposite wall. The window was small, circular, and seemed to be made of rock. The world was silent except for the creaking of age around her.
She knew it was a boat after a moment of clarity. In her youth, there were many shipwrecks that served as meeting places for rebellious children. She would hide from her duties there, and if the light came through at just the right angle, she could see the shadows of life that had once graced the ship.
Except now, rather than the boat rotting in the waters of her home, it seemed like she was the one rotting.
The emptiness of the sound around her soon became too much, and an ache inside of her compelled the queen to fill the void. With a breath, she calmed her mind, and let out a single, sad note. The sound of her voice in the air was a bit unexpected, but she hurried on. She sang the song of her people. She sang the song of her death.
Some of the musically inclined mer made a tradition when the world was young. When faced with death, you must sing your own funeral dirge. And so she sang.
It was wordless in the air, but the meaning was steady in her heart. If nothing else, this little room would be her last stage. Her last performance was to be played for her husband, strong and playful. Her daughters, each one unique and already kind, even before the teenage years grasped them. Her people, whom had given her such respect, and who loved her in return.
Her song was born into the world once above. Born into the love of a woman who had no knowledge of what came next. Of whatever met her in the sand of time. Her last notes rang out low, soft, and then silence that carried a sacred energy. It was all for the world below, until she heard clapping from the other side of the room.
What Queen Athena wasn't expecting, was to have an audience member.
"That was quite beautiful, there, lass. Care for an encore?"
Rather than fear, her heart burned with rage. No biped was meant to hear her soul. She let loose a barracuda snarl, and the eyes peering at her widened.
Images raced in her mind of the old practices, which she had foolishly trained herself for in youth. But now, that knowledge wasn't cruel. She only wrote one song for it, but the old enchantment would have to do.
Come here, my darling,
You'll be safe and sound.
Safe from all harming,
Away from the ground.
The moon rises high,
My sister, in sky.
Now come, by-the-by,
Your end is nigh.
I call you closer,
Into my light.
Follow me, my love,
Into the bright.
Ignore all your people,
They give not a care.
Catch with the fire,
From my hair.
Close to my heart,
I hold you so.
My heart, and yours,
Call to below.
Join me in the waves,
Join me in the surf.
Join me into the water,
For your next birth.
The ocean welcomes you,
Life of the land.
I call to your soul, now,
Into my hand.
Fear not the dark,
It leaves not a mark.
Heart, come lend,
Into the end.
The person was lit with the moon now, eyes hazy. Athena reached out, and the sailor - pirate - took the cold hand happily. If nothing else, this being would meet a peaceful death.
Before the queen could pull the pirate into the tub, another arm pulled them back, almost out of her grasp. But that wasn't right. No living land-walker should be able to refuse her.
The arm was connected to a man with hair of sand-gold. He glared at the ocean's queen before her with eyes of oil, and yanked again. This seemed to break the spell, because the first pirate shook their head. What kind of magic was this?
They both left the room, and the queen was filled with confusion. What had just happened? The spell was working, up until that man showed himself. Who was he, some kind of witch?
Before long, only that man returned, and when she started the song again, he only smiled and shook his head. If the spell wasn't working, there was no hope.
"Who are you?" She asked. She got no answer from those oil eyes, only a shake of the head and a point to his ears.
No song would ever trick him, for he could not hear.