The sea, still churned up by the subsiding storm, offered a first-class buffet for all kinds of creatures under the sea. Several inhabitants were busy filling their stomachs. A whole shoal of wonderfully iridescent fishes passed through the water and the tentacles of several colourful anemones swayed back and forth. Among the jagged rocks, a young ray floated gracefully through the water. Dark shadows circled in the higher realms, testifying to the presence of dangerous hunters.
On guard against the predators above him, the ray was careful not to attract attention. The sharks, however, were so distracted that he could have saved himself the trouble. Something must have happened on the surface that attracted the hungry animals and, to make matters worse, put them into their trance-like state of bloodlust. After all, they didn't seem to notice the least bit of the commotion below them. Every now and then the ray cast a furtive glance upwards. In one of these moments, he noticed something breaking through the surface of the water. Driven by his typical curiosity, he approached the spectacle, but still made sure to keep enough distance to the circling sharks. When he realised that the something was a someone, however, he reacted in a flash. Whoever it was, he did not seem to be conscious and would therefore be easy prey for the predators. The ray approached inch by inch. Astonished, he paused for a moment when he realised that it was a mullet that had fallen into the water and was now sinking unconscious to the bottom. Without thinking about how a sea creature could have fallen out of the sky, he pushed forward and caught the boy. Up close, he saw that he was badly battered and, to make matters worse, there were slight traces of blood in the water around him. So he had to be quick or the sharks would take notice.
His talent for magically attracting just such a situation had quickly earned him a certain reputation within his family. Behind his back, they called him a good-for-nothing and a failure who brought nothing but shame on their kind. Far too often he put himself in danger because, according to his revered family, he did not think further about the consequences of his actions. That he did exactly this to a greater extent than most others, they simply did not want to or could not admit. His understanding of right and wrong did not fit in at all with the structure that the rays had built up since then. They saw their dark and mysterious reputation endangered by his behaviour and therefore tried to distance themselves from him and his views whenever possible. This had made him a loner who felt out of place even in his actual home, but also couldn't go anywhere else, as his kind tended to stand out unpleasantly among the rest of the sea population. Most of them gave a wide berth to a ray.
Now, however, it was time to stop thinking about what he should do about his situation or his behaviour and get himself and the unconscious boy to safety. Fortunately, the sea boy was about the same age as himself and thus had a size he could handle well. Gently, he lowered himself to the ground with him, letting his eyes wander searchingly over the ground. To his relief, he found what he was looking for. A cave that seemed just big enough to offer him and the mermaid shelter was only a few metres away from them. However, the ray realised almost too late that these metres might already be too far.
One of the sharks had followed the blood trail and was now racing towards them at high speed. At the very last moment, he was able to push the mullet into the opening and made another elegant turn, which made the shark's sharp teeth bite into nothing. A little later he slipped through the narrow gap and found himself in the safety of the small cave.
The shark and his fellow sharks, who had also joined him in the meantime, remained stubborn and were not easily dissuaded from their hoped-for prey. Again and again they banged their cone-shaped heads against the cave entrance, so that here and there small chunks of the rock surrounding them trickled down.
As good as the plan may have been at the beginning, it had serious gaps as time went on. Depending on how persistently the sharks chased them, the likelihood of him and the merman ever escaping alive from this trap of their own choosing diminished. Secretly, the ray wished he hadn't clashed with his family this morning, as he so often did, and then swam off on one of his forays. But he was tired of being forever compared to his two cousins, who were the talk of the town because they had actually made it so far that the dreaded sea witch had appointed them her personal henchmen.
But at the moment he really had other problems than his hated relatives. By now, the sharks had worked the narrow crevice so mercilessly that their sharp teeth met only a few fins' breadth away from each other, and this despite the fact that he pressed himself and the sea boy with all his might against the farthest corner of the small cave. They were finished.
Eric had already made several dives and his air was getting scarcer with every further attempt to locate Ares under the surface. He was an excellent swimmer and could really dive persistently, but he was only human. There were limits to what he could do and he was dangerously close to his. Just as he was about to make one last attempt and dive into the depths of the sea again, he was grabbed by both arms and dragged into a dinghy.
"Your Highness, it is too dangerous," one of the two men who had pulled him out of the dangerous situation explained to him, which he himself had not even realised over the urge to protect his nephew. Reluctantly, he continued to look at the surface of the water, but then let his eyes wander to the shark fins cutting through the water and realised that his men were right. His hands were tied, he could do nothing but hope that Ares, despite his injuries and the certainly anything but gentle impact on the water's surface, was well enough to get himself to safety from the predators. With a heavy heart, he let himself be rowed back to the frigate. Only now did he realise how bad things were for the navy's flagship. His relief was all the greater when he saw that help was already at hand. One of the other frigates that had gone in search of them had joined them and picked up the shipwrecked crew.
"Eric, what happened?" his brother-in-law's voice reached his ears and another stone fell from his heart when he saw the merman sticking out of the water beside him. Behind him he could make out a force that was not to be underestimated, but they continued to stand by under the surface of the water.
"Orpheus, lucky you. You have come at just the right time. Quick, you must look for your son! I couldn't find him. He must be here somewhere. Watch out for the sharks!" he passed on to him the really important information about the current situation at the moment, after expressing his relief at the arrival of the sea people. The worried father did not need to be told twice and dived down. He gave short orders to the mermen and immediately set about turning over every shell for his boy as well. The Olympian soldiers, trained in dealing with sharks, took on the task of keeping the circling predators busy while the Atlantians spread out in a fan shape and systematically searched the seabed.
With powerful strokes of his fins, the anxious father swam just a few handbreadths above the bottom, letting his gaze wander from right to left. Releasing his tension, he tightened his grip on the silver coral branch that his son had left behind as the only trace of his abduction.
Where was he?
Just as Orpheus was asking himself this question, he became aware of a handful of sharks that were away from the general hustle and bustle but were behaving in an extremely conspicuous manner. Again and again they took turns thundering against a rock, apparently not even letting the self-inflicted scratches stop them from continuing in their endeavour. He briefly glanced at his father's men, who had taken on the majority of the sharks. They seemed to have no problems keeping them in check. He was not surprised, after all, in Olympia it was considered a kind of coming-of-age ritual for a merman to get into the ring with one or even several sharks. If a young man managed to subdue the predatory fish in this ceremony to such an extent that it became docile, he was even allowed to keep it and harness it in front of his fighting shell. So it was not uncommon for the adolescent mermen, in their competitive zeal, to go into battle not only against one of the animals, but several at once. Scars from this confrontation were just as popular a bragging point as the number of sharks they had faced at the same time. Orpheus had once faced this tradition too. As a king's son, anything less than three sharks was sheer embarrassment, so without having much to say about it, he had faced five of the animals from his father. Even today he shuddered when he thought back on it.
He had just turned seventeen and everyone was eagerly awaiting the announcement of the date for his school leaving examination. His brothers had had no other topic for weeks. Apollo's story, which he undoubtedly assumed would one day become a legend, he could already recite by heart in such detail that you would have thought he had been there himself. Well, he had certainly been there, but a two-year-old mermaid boy could certainly not remember to such an extent. Heracles and Hephaestus also got on his nerves with their prophecies of terror and bets about the number of limbs he would probably lose. Even his favourite brother Dyonisos had nothing better to do than make silly jokes about his impending consecration. He really didn't have it easy with his brothers, there was no question about that. The worst, however, remained his father. Augustus was firmly convinced that his then youngest son had to acquire a particularly good status in their ranks in order to be a good match later on. Orpheus had been nagging him for days, but he would not be dissuaded from his plan to pit him against a crowd of sharks that only the best of their warriors could face. Apparently, the risk of losing his last-born in this fight was less serious for him than the shame that he would become just an ordinary merman without any outstanding abilities. In his opinion, the royal house of Olympia could not afford a prince who could not even manage such a task. Orpheus, of course, saw this quite differently, but no one was interested in this except his mother, who, however, had very little to say in her patriarchal society. When his father finally announced the fight with much fanfare, by far the most nerve-wracking two days of Orpheus' life began. How was he supposed to hold his own against five of these death machines? The first of the two remaining days he buried himself in books one last time and studied the theory of the art of shark fighting. On the last day before the fight, he had his last preparatory practical lesson, during which his teacher's criticism only made him feel more insecure instead of giving him the final touch. His heart was racing and his thoughts simply could not rest. This only changed when the time finally came and he found himself in the theatre. The bleachers surrounding him were filled to capacity and all eyes were on him. Orpheus' storm of thoughts ebbed out of the blue. Every strategy, every plan he had tried to formulate had disappeared. There was nothing but yawning emptiness in his head. He swallowed hard and in the next moment the fanfares that accompanied the arrival of his father and symbolised the start of the games sounded. A cheer went through the crowd when they saw their king. He raised his hand in salute and the crowd fell silent. His deep voice spoke a few opening phrases and then signalled the release of the sharks.
A murmur went through the audience when they spotted the five sharks moving slowly around Orpheus. They drew their circles ever closer around the young prince, who remained stiffly in place. Displeasure had entered the expression of the ruler, not even this boy would die gloriously. But what a disappointment. Augustus waved a platter of fishcakes and feasted on the selection served to him, paying no further attention to his son's plight.
It was clear to Orpheus that if he wanted to survive this, he had to act, but how? The first of the sharks kept making small attempts to attack, so his time for reflection would not last long. Then suddenly, as if on cue, the sharks pounced on him together. Without thinking about it, Orpheus acted instinctively and dodged upwards with a powerful flap of his fins. Four of the five sharks collided so hard that they sank to the bottom in his previous position, dazed. The last one, however, immediately followed him. But now he had the advantage. Orpheus was fast, he always had been, and that was why he had trained for it. If the other four sharks were indeed out of the game, he could still turn this one in his favour. He hooked and then shot off again, the big shark had no chance of keeping up with him, but persisted in trying. This lengthy attrition tactic was anything but heroic, but ultimately crowned with success. Orpheus knew that this fight, if you wanted to call it that, was anything but to his father's liking. For the spectators, however, his delaying tactics seemed to have done no harm to the entertainment. They cheered for their prince, who still could not quite believe that all five sharks were down.
He had been more lucky than good then, he knew, but now his son's life was at stake. Orpheus did not hesitate and lunged at the group of sharks with a bloodcurdling battle cry. Only when he drove his double spear into the flank of the largest of the animals did they become aware of his presence. They scattered so that Orpheus could catch a glimpse of the inside of the small cave and recognise your unconscious son. A ray had placed itself protectively over the boy, and you could see from his trembling body that he was scared to the tips of his fins. But Orpheus had no time to absorb the image. The sharks had gone on the attack. As before, he concentrated primarily on dodging, but in contrast to before, he used targeted stabs again and again. An uninformed onlooker might have thought that Orpheus' spearheads disturbed the predators no more than the pricking of a sea urchin's toothpick, but the trained eye saw the system behind his well-placed attacks. The sharks might not feel any effects at the moment, but this would soon change. The points Orpheus was working on were nerve nodes and thus essential to the predators' perception and well-being. When the first of the five sharks started to fall back and then began to stagger back and forth, Orpheus knew he had done it. A few more minutes and all the sharks would be incapacitated and retreat. This condition would last for a few hours but would not affect the animals any further. Orpheus had spent a long time analysing the anatomy of the big fish to find these points and planned to write a book later on explaining his fighting tactics, which were less likely to result in losses for both sides, in order to put an end to the bloody slaughter that was so popular in their society.
As soon as the last shark had left him, he swam hurriedly to the cave.
"Ares! Ares, I'm here. Don't be afraid," he shouted, alerting the other mermen to the fact that he had found the crown prince. Immediately they too swam towards the cave.
Orpheus was about to reach into the cave and pull his son into his arms when the ray shot out of the gap. The soldiers instantly laid their spears on the menacing-looking animal.
"Don't! Lower your weapons!", Orpheus stopped them before one of the soldiers launched an attack. He couldn't quite grasp it, but he was sure he had seen that this ray had protected his son from the sharks' teeth.
"We are here to save him. I am his father. Please let me through," he explained to the ray hovering in the water between him and his son. The ray nodded to him and made room, but meticulously watched Orpheus' every move.
"Ares, do you hear me, my boy?" he addressed his son as he lifted him out of the cave. The ray slid curiously to his side.
"Ares, open your eyes. Come on, my boy," Orpheus pleaded desperately as he finally held the unconscious sea boy in his arms again. The prince, however, made no sign of regaining consciousness. He hung limply in his father's arms and a depressed silence settled over the reef.
"Ares," Orpheus breathed, not wanting to believe it. Tears formed in the Olympian prince's eyes. His son looked terrible. What had he been through? He pressed the little body tightly against him and let his tears run free. Nausea rose in him and joined the sadness that had given way to the tension that had accompanied him throughout the search. What could he do?
"Please come back to us. Fight, Ares, I know you are a great warrior and that you will be an even greater king," he implored his son.
Helplessly he sank down over his boy. His black curls fell in front of his face and hid the tears that were forming from the eyes of the others. After all their efforts, had they come too late to save their prince?
Orpheus hardly dared to believe it when he heard small signs of life from Ares and he finally opened his eyes a few moments later.
"Oh, Ares," his father sobbed.
The crown prince blinked slowly a few times until his vision cleared and he recognised his father.
"Papa!" he gasped with relief.
Orpheus immediately wrapped him in his arms and spoke comfortingly to him.
"Everything will be all right, Ares. You're safe now," his father spoke while Ares clung to his shoulder like a drowning man and cried aloud. The fear and tension finally fell away from everyone.
Figuring that Eric was just as frightened for Ares on the deck of his ship, he sent one of the men up to report to him.
"Prepare to go home, there is no time to lose. Ares miss to a doctor as soon as possible," he had the men prepare for the journey back to Atlantica. The question of how they could make Ares' return as smooth as possible was on his mind. His son's fin looked catastrophic, so much so that he had serious concerns that he would ever be able to swim again. Of course, he tried not to let this fear show, but Ares was no fool, he had surely already recognised his own condition himself. Orpheus swallowed hard before lifting his son to take him to a shell carriage. However, he did not get far. Ares hissed in pain and clawed his fingers into his father's strong upper arms. Uncertain, Orpheus immediately held still. How was he supposed to get Ares home when even such small shocks tormented him so much? While he racked his brains over this, the ray circled him curiously. As he watched the graceful animal move about, an idea came to him.
"You helped my son once before, would you be willing to do it a second time and carry him home?" he asked frankly. The ray, who had expected anything but such a request, paused in front of him.
"Yes," replied the man who had been asked, simply. The ray didn't know why, but something was pushing him to do it and it felt right. He might just be making another one of his bad decisions in the eyes of the family, but he felt that this was exactly what was right and good. He wanted to do this and he would do it no matter what his family or anyone else might say. He had harped on himself long enough, finding fault with himself.
"Thank you, ...", Orpheus began, but then broke off when he realised he didn't even know his counterpart's name.
"My name is Phobos," the ray guessed the merman's dilemma and unceremoniously solved the riddle.
"Phobos, the fear. I don't know if this name fits you perfectly or not at all. But one thing I know for sure is that I am very grateful to you," Orpheus replied as he gently set Ares down on the ray's back. Shortly after, the ray started to move and, as his father had hoped, the floating swimming movements of the ray caused Ares almost no pain. Satisfied, he swam alongside the two, ready to intervene at any time should Ares lose the strength to stay on the ray's back or should something else require his intervention. Slowly they made their way home to Atlantica.
The relief Eric felt after hearing the good news about his nephew knew no bounds. Now he could take his time to bring his crew home safely as well. He thanked Orpheus messenger and then turned to his men.
"Is everyone well up?" he asked to the group. The men glanced right and left to check for attendance.
"Sir, the crew is complete and there are only a handful of men who have been attended to by the ship's doctor," one of the men reported.
"That's good news," Eric was pleased to hear and was about to move on to the next topic when the man raised another objection, however.
"Excuse me, your highness. But it should be mentioned that our men are complete, but the shipwrecked crew you picked up is missing their captain. They assume that he was left on the pirate ship in all the commotion," the sailor explained somewhat meekly.
Eric let his gaze wander over the shipless and now captainless men. They were truly a pile of misery, standing at the end of the row of his men with their soaked clothes and dark circles under their eyes. Thoughtfully, he looked across the sea towards the ever-shrinking ship.
The adrenaline that had built up in the Amethyst's first mate's body ebbed more with each wave that hit the bow. Only now did he realise how tense he had been the whole time. It calmed him immensely to hold the familiar wood of the steering wheel in his hands again. His captain had just been clamouring across the deck and was generally in a bad mood after he had realised that the prince had taken him for a ride. The supposed signature on the letter of marque had been nothing more than a scribble that had rendered the entire document useless.
The first mate was glad to escape the fuss on the main deck for the time being, taking full care to put as many nautical miles as possible between them and the navy.
His mentor watched him with pride and melancholy in equal measure. Once again, he had not been able to leave his protégé behind. The raging captain had not yet noticed the presence of his former helmsman. Taking advantage of this, he crept towards the stairs leading up to the quarterdeck.
The first mate followed the goings-on of the crew only incidentally. He let himself be calmed by the sound of the waves and noticed how his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. He tried to calm himself a little more by taking a deep breath. Discomfort flared up in him when he realised that his breathing was irregular. Only now that he was investigating the reason for this did he become aware of an increasingly painful throbbing in his left side. Suspecting evil, he let his eyes follow the pain and remained shocked at his blood-soaked hip. Panic joined his increasingly heavy and irregular breathing. The pain became more real with each passing second. He had indeed caught it. He tried hard to remember the confrontation with the prince, but he just couldn't remember that he had actually come that close, let alone caught him with his weapon, but the bleeding wound spoke for itself. The pain emptied his head. A groan escaped him and he slumped down. The steering wheel spun instantly as his hands powerlessly released the wood.
"Nathan!"
His name from his mentor's mouth were the last things he heard before everything around him went black.