The Captain hopped up out of his chair. Someone was pounding on his door, but it didn't sound like one of his men. Usually they didn't bother to knock at all. They just shouted whatever they came to say and were gone by the time Arthur opened his door. Sometimes they even opened the door without asking if it wasn't locked. Whoever was at the door wasn't a crew member.

Arthur fully expected to see Christov when he opened the door, and the only reason the first mate would bother him was for something important. Worry and annoyance quickly replaced the anguish Captain Kirkland was feeling just moments ago as he unlocked the door and pulled it open. He wasn't expecting nobody. The Captain poked his head out the door for a better look, but there was no one in sight.

"Bloody pranksters..." he growled as he began to close the door. If he ever found out who was responsible, they would pay dearly for disturbing him. That's when something grabbed his boot.

"A-Arthur..."

"Holy Mother of-" The Captain leapt away from the doorway with a string of curses. It took him a moment to understand what he saw. "(Y/n)?"

"Hi," she said sheepishly from the floor. Her face was unusually pale, and her hand shook as she waved. "C-can I come in?"

"You're not supposed to be here," Arthur answered as he set his face in what he hoped was a stern expression.

"Uh huh." The mermaid slowly pulled herself up from the floor into a sitting position. She already looked a little stronger than before. "I wasn't originally planning on coming here, but you forced my hand."

"Me?" Arthur shot her a confused look. "What have I done?"

"I don't know, but it hurts like crazy so knock it off." She got up onto unsteady feet and braced herself against the doorframe. "Who tore your heart apart?"

Captain Kirkland couldn't keep from flinching at the mermaid's words. The pain from before started to seep back into his chest as his thoughts returned to his late mother. He clenched his fists.

Before he could say anything, the mermaid collapsed to her knees and hunched over as if in severe pain. Arthur was so surprised he couldn't even react. It took him a moment to clear his head and remember how a gentleman would act in such a situation. He quickly knelt next to the girl and gently touched her arm.

"What's the matter, (y/n)? Are you hurt?"

"No, but you are."

Arthur became more confused than ever by her response. "Excuse me?"

"Just think about rainbows and ponies and cake or something. Think happy."

"Happy?" Arthur furrowed his brows. What made him happy? Well, there was gold, rum, fairies, unicorns, and spirits. Not that he would ever admit those things.

"Much better," the mermaid said with a sigh. She looked up with watery eyes and a strained smile at the pirate captain. "Maybe I should explain a few things before you try to kill me again."

It took her about a half hour to explain to Arthur how the heart connection works. Apparently her mermaid magic had bound their hearts together physically and emotionally. If either one of them died, so did the other. If one of them felt a very strong emotion, so did the other. Arthur didn't know whether to believe her, but it didn't seem like she was faking the pain she was in earlier.

"So, if this is real, aren't you making a really big gamble?" he asked with narrowed eyes. "What if something happens to me?"

"That's always the risk," she answered. "I didn't want to do this, but you gave me no choice. I wasn't about to be sold as cargo."

She said it with such vehemence that the Captain was starting to understand what she meant. Or maybe that was the heart connection giving him these feelings. Honestly, he wasn't sure what to think anymore. This whole situation had spiraled so quickly out of his control that he felt like a helpless lad just learning to live on his own, and he didn't enjoy the feeling one bit.

"Well, what do you suggest we do to get out of this mess? I have to help you since you'll die if I don't, and I don't know about you, love, but I'm not too keen on dying any time soon."

"Ojigwa said I should go home," she responded almost wistfully.

"And where is that, exactly?"

"Um..." The mermaid chewed her lip thoughtfully. Arthur found the gesture to be kind of adorable, but he would never say that. "It's hard to explain."

"Great." The Captain stood up and tuned away from the girl as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "As if things couldn't get any bloody worse, you don't know where we should go."

"It's around here."

"What?" He turned back to see an empty doorway. While he was preoccupied, the mermaid had gotten to her feet and made her way over to a wall with a large map pinned on it.

"I think it's around here, but I can't say for sure."

Arthur joined the girl at the map and looked where her finger was pointing. It was right off the coast of an island in the southern portion of the Sea of Hess. That was at least a week's worth of sailing from their current position.

"There? By Illiam Island? Are you sure?"

"I think so. If I'm reading this right. I've never seen a human map before. Is there really so much land?"

The Captain thought it was odd that she thought there was a lot of land when most of the map was the ocean, but then again she had never been on land before in her life. He could see why she would think there was a lot of it. She seemed so amazed by the smallest things sometimes, but he wondered what crazy things she has seen in the depths of the sea.

"This is where we are now," Arthur said as he pointed to a landmass in the top left corner of the map. "We call it the Northern Continent, or Herdhold by the natives."

"What are they like?"

"Big, strong, blonde, and pale, especially in the north." He pointed to a large dot on the map. "The people in Berd are some of the tallest you'll ever meet. Must have something to do with the cold."

"What about this one?" she asked with her finger on a different continent directly south of the first.

"That's the Western Continent, or Vanhold. We caught you around here in the Sea of Hess, and then took you to Wend, here." Arthur pointed to another dot. "The people there aren't as big or pale, but they have fair skin and hair for the most part."

"Ohhh." The mermaid's eyes seemed to light up. "Then the Isle of Mermaids is right where I said. It's by that island full of weird pale people."

"Sounds like Illiam," Arthur said with a roll of his eyes.

"What about here?" she asked as she pointed to a continent in the opposite corner of the map from the Northern Continent.

"What is this, a geography lesson?" The Captain sounded annoyed, but he actually enjoyed sharing his knowledge of the known world. "That's the Southern Continent, or Agbalhold by its people. Its marshes are dark like the people who live there."

"Is that where Ninya came from?"

"Yes, most likely."

"That's so far away..." She traced a line from the Northern Continent to the Southern. "How sad."

Arthur felt a twinge of sadness as well, but he attributed it to their connection. "You should worry about yourself. You're pretty far from home too."

"I suppose..."

The sadness in the Captain's heart intensified tenfold, but he ignored it and pointed to the last continent instead. "That's the Eastern Continent, or Cashold. The people there have a strange magic and culture. They believe in spirits and dragons and other such nonsense."

"You don't believe in those things?"

Her question caught him off guard. "I believe in hard work, good rum, and gold. What else is there to believe in?"

"That's a little sad." The look on her face was enough to twist his heart. He was about to say something back when a loud bell rang outside.

"That's the dinner bell," Arthur said matter of factly. "Guess it's time to eat."

"What's for dinner?"

"No clue. Let's go see what the cook made."

I quickly found out the cook's name really was Cook, or at least he insisted I call him that. He worked in a little kitchen attached to some kind of dining hall at the back of the ship. I would've never found the place if Arthur hadn't shown me the way. He wasn't particularly talkative as he led me through the halls, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the conversation we had.

After introducing me to Cook, Arthur walked into the dining hall and stood on a crate so he could be seen by everyone, even in the back. "Listen up! This is (y/n). She's going to be staying with us for a while, so try to act somewhat civilized."

There were a few snorts, whistles, and other unpleasant sounds. I was handed a bowl of some revolting looking soup and told to find a seat.

"W-where should I sit?"

"There's an op'n seat righ' next t' me, lassie!" someone called from the back.

"Nah! (Y/n) should sit bah me!"

"No, me!"

"Me!"

"Ye all got maggots in yer 'eads if ya think she's gonna sit by the lot of ye!"

"Ya wanna say that t' me face?!"

"Yer on, fish breath!"

"Pervy eyes!"

"Yella belly!"

"Sea urchin lips!"

Before I knew what was happening, a small brawl had broken out in the middle of the dining hall. Several men were pummeling each other amidst a crowd of other men shouting encouragement. The few that stayed out of it were either eating or placing bets on who the winner would be. All the while, Arthur had disappeared, and I still didn't know where to sit.

"Come with me!" Someone pulled on my sleeve, and I looked down to see Peter standing beside me.

"Peter? Where did you-"

"No time! Just follow me!"

The two of us snuck away without being noticed to a table all the way in the back of the room. It was so far that the sounds of the brawl were only audible if I really strained to hear them. I took a seat next to Peter, who began to introduce me to the other two sitting there already.

"(Y/n), this is James and Squeaker."

"Hello, nice to meet you."

"It's not e'ry day we git a purtty lass t' sit at our table," Squeaker said with a blush. He tugged on his red and white stripped bandana nervously.

The other man, James, just turned very pale but didn't say a word. "I'm sorry for sneaking out," I said with an apologetic smile. "I hope you didn't get in trouble?"

"T-trouble? N-not at all." He still seemed to be in some kind of shock.

"Did you ever find your belt?"

"Belt?" A look of confusion came over him until he realized what I was talking about. "Ah! Yes! It was in me clothes chest the whole time."

"Do you two know each other?" Peter asked curiously.

"I guess you could say that." I flashed him a quick smile before looking down at my bowl. "Is this supposed to be edible?"

Squeaker laughed. "Ye wouldn't be the firs' person t' ask that! Took me a good week t' get used to Cook's cookin'!"

I didn't feel particularly encouraged by that. "Where did Arthur go?"

"Uncle? He never eats down here."

"But he forces you to?"

"No. I choose to eat down here," the boy answered with a mouthful of whatever was in the soup. "It's more fun than sitting in Uncle's room."

"I see." I glanced at my bowl again and shuddered. "Does anyone want this?" Three hands shot into the air. "Fine, it's all yours."

"Whoever's oldest gits it," James said as I got up from the table.

"No fair! I'm the youngest!" Peter replied.

"Well, then t' the shortest gits it!" Squeaker said.

"Pick straws for it!"

"Ye always cheat!"

"Roll dice!"

I never found out who got it in the end because I slipped out of the dining hall without drawing attention. The empty hallway was very inviting, and I walked as quickly as I could away from the loud hubbub behind me. Unfortunately, I had forgotten how to get back to my room. Every door and corridor I came across looked the same, and I couldn't get a good sense of which direction I was going. With each turn I was convinced I was just walking in circles.

Finally, I came across something different. A door had been left open in this hallway, and I walked toward it excitedly. Maybe I could figure out where I was from what was in the room. No light came from the open doorway as I peeked my head inside. It was hard to tell if anything was in there at all, so I grabbed a lamp from off a wall and carried it inside the dark room. I wasn't expecting what I saw.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked. There was a young man sitting in my old bath tub with the most miserable look on his face.

"Are you here to untie me?" he asked hopefully. His blue eyes seems to light up behind a pair of glasses.

"No...but I can if you want." I hurried to the tub and set the lamp down on the floor. "How did you get here?"

"I stowed away," he answered with a big grin. "Then I got caught and they threw me in here."

His clothes were soaking wet, and I was surprised he hadn't caught a cold. I worked on untying the rope binding his hands behind his back as he continued to explain what had happened to him. He was treated so much worse than I was that I felt really guilty. Arthur probably took out all of his frustration over the situation with me on this kid.

"Then he got all freaked out and started asking me about my mom," he explained as I got the ropes off his wrists.

"Your mom?" That seems like an odd thing to get bent out of shape over. "Why?"

"I don't know. He wanted to know what happened to her, but she..." He didn't say anymore, but I understood.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm sure it's nothing. What's your name?"

"Alfred," he told me with enthusiasm, his mother and Arthur forgotten. "Alfred F. Jones."

"Okay, Alfred F. Jones. Let's get you out of this bathtub."