Santiago heard Brigit exit the hatch and immediately call for Nia, saying something about needing a 'good and proper hard drink'. Her cavalier attitude clearly embittered him, even if he knew deep down it was something of a show. His brows were knitted and his frown was deep in his cheeks. He grumbled something in Portuguese under his breath with the force and venom of an ancient curse, his wringing hands almost acting as spell casters. He stopped mid word when the measured footsteps of Carlos caught his burning ears. He sucked in a deep breath then released it with all his negativity woven within in the hot air.
Santiago turned slowly, as if the gentle sea wind carried the movement. His face had returned to neutral and his hands slipped gracefully into his pockets. He even went as far as to offer a soft smile. He was the perfect picture of 'professional'. An expression and posture far better suited for an office or court than the old, creaky ship he stood upon. "Doctor Navarro."
"I've told you before, no need for the formalities," Carlos said, though the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips portrayed his appreciation clear as day. His notebook was held partially open in between his fingers. The quill sat within the book's crease, the nib hung off the edge so as to not mark up the pages. There was a slight shake to his hands, but that was the only hint to his nervousness. "Besides, I'd feel as if I'd have to start calling you Professor or something of the like if you kept calling me Doctor."
"No need for flattery. I have such no title." Santiago shook his head, a light, airy chuckle followed his words. "But you've approached me for a reason, no?"
"Indeed," Carlos said. He parted the book a little more to show what was written on the pages. Notes upon notes of information on merfolk covered the parchment, it almost looked fanatical. In particular the pages he showcased were about the concept of deals. Theories about the human soul and how it may affect a sea demon's magic. Questions posed to his future self about what the going rate for a human soul could possibly be, however there was no room left for a reply. The words on the page trembled with his tight grip, between that and the lettering being chicken scratch most the other notes were difficult to read. "Have you ever wondered why a professional, fully trained, and certified surgeon willingly joined this crew of criminals and vagabonds, sir?"
"I'll try not to sound too insulted by that description and say: I believe I can make an educated guess." The scholar's tone sounded incredibly nonchalant, but the sparkle in his usually dead eyes betrayed him.
"I've always wanted to learn about mermaids. They're been a passion since I was a boy, but according to folks inland they're nothing more than myth. Circuses who claim to have them are frauds, seamen who see them are delusional or succumbing to any number of common afflictions at sea." A sadness washed over Carlos' face as he downcast his eyes to his book. "But, when I overheard some unsavoury figures talk about hunting the great sea serpent one night on the town…"
"You dropped your prestigious title and aristocratic lifestyle to follow your boyish passion," Santiago completed.
"Foolishly, I admit. I almost believed there was no such thing as mermaids, that they were things from fairy tales, but I needed to know— to see for myself. And we found one." Carlos looked back up at him, his look almost pleading. "They're real."
Santiago hummed for a long moment as he took in every little crease and detail of the doctor's face. Small lines indicated not only was Carlos a few years older, but that he was hoping Santiago was some kind of mind-reader. It was odd seeing such a man acting so coy, hoping his implications could be caught instead of speaking his thoughts out loud. Still, Santiago had many years of reading and understanding people. The eyes shifting from book to man, the spilling of childhood dreams that strung back to what he wanted to ask, the pursed lips barring his tongue from speaking straight. The scholar finally nodded. "I see. You want me to teach you about those fiendish things. Given my job title here and the living proof in the belly of our ship I'm no fraud, you finally saw it fit to ask about."
"You caught me," Carlos admitted, "I just wonder how a man can get the title of mermaid scholar. I've never seen such classes in any academy."
"I made it up," Santiago said with a bit of a shrug, "But if you must know my qualifications… Have you ever heard of Sergio Riberio?"
"Yes, from children's tales, a captain of a war fleet and slayer of sea monsters from a couple hundred years back, if I recall." Scepticism twinged Carlos' eyes.
Santiago nodded, he moved his hand left from pocket to stroke his chin. "Well, he was a real man. A slayer of sea monsters indeed, he's a big reason why sea demons are so rare now-a-days. Thousands died by his and his crew's hands, the tales say. As did his journals— I came into possession of them some years ago at an auction. I've decided to carry on his work just… not as feverishly, to put it lightly. I'd be happy to share some of what I've learned with you."
Carlos' eyes lit up like the morning sky. His polite smile exploded into a large, genuine, and very toothy one. His breath was caught in his throat so the "Really?" That escaped him was more squeaked than spoken. He even seemed startled by how girlish he sounded. His smile dropped and he cleared his throat with a swift pound of his fist to his chest. He repeated, more respectfully, "Really? That'd be lovely."
Santiago laughed, not entirely sure what part Carlos was trying to get confirmation of. The boyish wonder warmed Santiago's cold heart. He placed a hand on his shoulder with one firm pat. "Of course, shall we? I don't have the original documents, but I'd gladly let you go over my notes."
***
"Did we get any more ginger from that last haul? Really feelin' rum and switchel 'til we can make port," Brigit asked Nia as the pair trekked towards the storage compartment.
Nia's response was eaten away by the splashing of seawater against the ship's sturdy body. Eddie watched the pair wonder off from the corner of his good eye. Switchel would take some time to put together, particularly to boil the ginger. And, frankly, he was sure the captain would be too focused on rum to notice the world around her. His gaze skipped over to Santiago and Carlos who had just wrapped up their conversation and started off towards the crew's quarters. One beamed with pride, the other with excitement, in stark contrast to Brigit and Nia who reeked of nothing but stress.
It was now or never.
Eddie walked to the hatch with his usual casualness, but his heart was hammering hard. He glanced around before vanishing below deck. From there he retraced the steps he had taken earlier that day. He expected the scene to be the same as he left it— an octopus with its limbs layed out in chains meant for people, maybe coiled in a bit more on itself. That was not the scene that met him. In fact, the sight took the air from his lungs. Sat against the far wall a good distance from the chains was a real merperson, surprise tensed its shoulders and parted its lush lips.
They were as the myths said: incredibly beautiful.
Not in a way Eddie particularly found titillating, he wasn't interested in men, less so when they were half fish. If anything, beauty made the being so much more unnerving. The merman was made up of a slender frame on a scaled up version of those writing tendrils Eddie had carried down earlier, making his hips look far wider than they truly were. His hair was the longest Eddie had ever witnessed, and his lashes were thick enough to make any lady jealous. It was a shame those lashes decorated such off putting eyes that cautiously watched the large seaman as he approached. Slitted like a devil's, the only difference was that they were golden and not red.
Eddie's steps were slow, as non threatening as he could manage, yet the floor creaked and cried under his weight. He couldn't hear it over the battering of his heart, but it made the merman bristle. His one good eye stayed steady on the creature, looking upon him as if he were some kind of God" with awe and fear. Of course he knew what he carried down there before, but there was something so different seeing this monster as a person instead of a wholly a fish.
"Mermaid," Eddie started, his voice soft like a prayer, "Your name."
The creature raised an eyebrow, perhaps even both, but the tangled red hair made it hard to tell as it covered half his face. His shoulders were tense, raised like the hackles of a dog. His voice was the only thing he was able to fully control. "You're the first to ask." His tone was level.
"Figured I ought to ask."
The creature nodded towards the weapons on the man's hip. "They've decided I die, then?"
Eddie followed the direction of the nod and immediately felt stupid. He thought to discard them, but reaching for them at all might cause the merman to attack. He knew he was no match for something of such myth and power. He closed his eyes as he shook his head. "I ain't down here on no one's orders."
When he opened his eyes again the cautious strain in the creature's face melted away. The eerie calm the other crew members were met with overtook the merman. His shoulders slumped and any emotion wiped from his face in a blink and replaced with nothing but cold. His hands, once placed on the ground, emerged from the mass of fishy limbs and folded politely in his lap. "Esmerlin."
Eddie's face squished back. "Esmerlin? Ain't heard such a name before."
"Ain't met many of my kind either, have you?"
Eddie shook his head. "Aye, point taken. 'Pologies" He took a deep breath. "Esmerlin, I come seekin' a boon."
"A boon?"
"Aye. Your kind make deals ain't ya? Magic and favours and wishes granted 'n what not for souls."
It was Esmerlin's face that scrunched this time, a touch of exasperation soured his voice. "You want to sell me your soul?"
"Aye." Eddie closed the distance between them with two more steps and knelt down to see eye to eye with Esmerlin. He reached to brush the hair from the other man's face, but Esmerlin silently jolted backwards, almost flattening himself against the wall. Eddie's hand lingered in the musty air for a moment longer, something about the movement felt off. He shook his head and the odd feeling fell from it. He pulled his hand back and closed his eyes. "I want ya magic, ya power. I want to be stronger than any mere human."
"Oh. I see." Esmerlin waved the man off limply before letting his hand fall back to his lap. "I've told your captain, but I'll tell you. My magic is very weak, tell her sending a goon to scope it out is incredibly heartless. Begone from my sight, human."
"She ain't sent me, my reasons are my own."
"I've given my answer. Begone. There is nothing I want from the likes of you anyways."
Eddie sat on his knees silently for a full thirty seconds, frozen like a statue. His stomach tightened as he realised letting the captain speak before him had ruined the opportunity. "But…" the word tumbled uselessly from his dried, chapped lips. Bitterness balled in his throat. Everything around him felt cold besides his rank breath that escaped from his open mouth. His hammering heart slowed so quickly he felt as if he might die. He sat even longer, only accompanied by the usual sounds at sea and his forced, trembling breaths. Finally, with a groan, he stood. "Ain't ya tell no one I came here and asked. But if ya ever change your mind…"
Esmerlin's expression was dull and unimpressed. The look alone took whatever wind remained in Eddie's sails away. He couldn't even finish his sentence. Eddie hung his head skulked off back to the hatch and vanished topside with the energy of a man headed to the gallows. Esmerlin watched, but his form did not move. It did not so much as breath or blink. The Esmerlin that sat against the wall disappeared mere moments before the hatch slammed shut and plunged the room into darkness.