Somewhere to the north, on seas men rarely sail ...

No sooner had the lookout given the customary shout of "Land ho!", announcing to the crew that land was in sight that a strange wind had kicked up. Dark, stormy clouds rolled in as if from nowhere, the seas becoming choppy with waves, but the incoming storm was the least of the ship's problems. They had been trying for some time to outrun and outmaneuver another ship - one that was bigger than theirs and that had her outgunned. A ship that flew a black flag bearing a skull and crossbones identifying her as a pirate ship that would take no quarter. Had it not been for the quick change in weather, they might have outrun her, but now that the wind was not cooperating, they had no choice but to stand and fight.

There was a young man on board the vessel who wasn't part of the regular crew. He'd booked passage back in Rhy'Din with a specific destination in mind, not telling anyone but the ship's captain the reason for his voyage. Reluctant at first, the captain had agreed after the young man had told him his tale and given him something that proved he wasn't lying. Chasing after a dream, fulfilling a promise, pursuing adventure - these were the reasons the young man found himself on board the doomed vessel that fateful day in August, and this is where his adventure really begins.

The first sign of real trouble came when Cian heard a loud boom. The ship was in chaos, men and boys rushing here and there, readying for battle, the wind howling and the sea thrashing, tossing the ship here and there. Shouts went up from the captain to the crew, yelling orders over the howl of the wind, the blast of the cannons, and the spray of the sea. Rain poured down in buckets making it impossible to see. Fighting a battle in these conditions was madness at best, but the ship with the black flag bore down on them relentlessly, and Cian knew why. It was him they were after - him and the treasure map he had memorized in his head.

"Get yourself below deck, lad!" the ship's captain shouted at Cian, but Cian shook his head, tossing wet hair away from his face.

"I'm not a child. I can fight as well as anyone!" he shouted back over the din. There was truth to what he said, and the captain knew it, having witnessed him best more than one of his officers with a blade.

"Bloody hell," the captain muttered, having taken a shine to the lad, though he was starting to think he might not live long enough to tell him that. "Just try to stay out of the way. If they try to board us, we'll need you."

It was the last thing Cian heard the ship's captain say, as there was another loud boom as a cannon ball ripped through the ship's bow, tearing her open, making her list to one side. Waves of choppy water washed up onto the deck, men screaming as they were knocked off balance, some falling into the drink. The pirate ship was having no better luck as a bolt of lightning struck the mainmast, splitting the ship right down the middle, as if she'd been struck a blow by the gods.

Chaos ensued, everything taking on a dream-like quality, as though Cian were trapped in the midst of a nightmare. Only it was no nightmare, but stark reality. The ship tilted to one side, men rushing here and there, but she was taking on water too quickly, and bailing was no use. The cry went up to "Abandon ship!" just as a loud crack was heard, deafeningly loud over the crackle of lightening and the rumble of thunder that sounded too much like cannonfire. Cian lost his balance as he struggled to fight his way toward the longboats that would take them to safely from the sinking vessel, but before he could get there, there was another loud crack as the mizzenmast broke off and toppled to the deck, knocking him off his feet.

The sea rolled again, a huge wave washing over the deck, swallowing up men, weapons, cargo, and debris into the rollicking sea. Swept along by the wave, Cian struggled to grab hold of anything that would keep him afloat, fingers grasping anything within reach. His fingers found purchase on loose timber of wood, but just as he was about to grab hold, a cask of ale rolled its way into the sea, striking a glancing blow at his head, knocking him senseless. The shrieks of the men and the roar of the sea gave way to nothing but silence as the sea swallowed him up in into darkness.

The chaos above the surface seemed to drift out of all sense and feeling. As men and cargo sank beneath the tumultuous waves, all sound and feeling seemed to ebb away from them. Daylight only reached far enough to illuminate their descent through the beautiful blue of the ocean. Only some few ever saw what else moved through that water. Figures darted from the deeper blue beneath, indistinct to the eyes of the men already drowning. Tails swept by, arms reached out, and each man taken was dragged down into the depths, denied any hope of breaking the surface once again. All but one, who drifted downward, dazed amid the sinking casks and cargoes, hidden from the most casual glance of those determined killers, darting back and forth between the sinking ships.

Hands reached for Cian, tucking beneath his arms, a lithe body pressed to his back as he was pulled along ....not downward as so many of his comrades and enemies were, but toward the land, into a thicker nest of sinking cargo. The motion stopped, and that body flitted about, struggling to keep him level with the crates and casks that concealed him from view. A cloud of golden hair swept in front of his face, green eyes peering through the stormy water to study him. Fingers pinched his nostrils shut, and suddenly a mouth sealed over his, sucking to draw the water from his lungs. A moment later, and clean air was breathed into him, the delicate mouth closing his lips before retreating. The arms wrapped about him once again, and that sense of motion returned, a rhythmic swish that propelled him through the water toward the looming darkness of land.

The darkness of the storm and the battle and the wrecked ship gave way to another kind of darkness, one that was as peaceful as it was terrifying. At first, Cian thought he was dead, but if he was dead, why was his head pounding like someone was hammering at his brain? Barely conscious, he was aware of movement, like he was being tugged along by a force he could not quite comprehend just yet. He thought he felt soft, cool lips against his and he struggled to open his eyes, but they only fluttered briefly allowing him a glimpse of gold hair like a halo, and eyes that were as green as emeralds.

As above them the storm began to subside, so too did the darkness of the water begin to lighten as he was pulled against the current, his silent rescuer stopping every now and then to take the air from his lungs with that soft mouth and replace it with fresh breath to keep him alive. The crowded sea faded into the deeps, men and ships and the creatures dragging them down disappearing from view. And suddenly, his head broke the surface, the gentle arms around him holding him up as the owner of those green eyes struggled through ever shallower water, finally forced to drag him by his collar as his body snagged on soft sand still swept by waves.

Perhaps he heard the sounds of effort that broke from the lips he'd tasted in his unconsciousness, feminine and rushed and straining as the arms that had been so strong below the water now found it hard to pull him to safety. When, finally, it seemed he was safe from the grasp of the waves, out of sight of whatever it was that would otherwise have wanted him dead, his rescuer released him, and collapsed, breathless, to the sand at his side.

"Yang Terlupa," he echoed quietly, shoving a hand through his damp, dishevelled hair, pushing it back from his face as it stirred in the soft, sea breeze. "I know that name." His brows knitted in contemplation, but the harder he tried to remember, the more his head hurt. He got a faraway look in his eyes as he tried to wrap his head around the little bit she was telling him. He looked back at her when she offered her name, trying hard to keep his eyes focused on her face without wandering elsewhere. "You should really get dressed, Leilani," he suggested again, her name sounding awkward on his tongue.

Her head snapped up suddenly, as though some sound in the natural cadence around them had alerted her in some way he couldn't yet fathom, her eyes turning abruptly back to the sea once again. "Come," she told him, moving to rise to her feet on the soft sand, his shirt still dangling from one hand as she reached for him. "You need shelter, water. I will do this dressed." She didn't seem to understand his discomfort, or the concept he was trying to convince her of, never having needed to cover her nudity before, but there was an urgency to her words and movements that had been lacking only moments before.

He hesitated a moment before taking her hand, seeming to sense that, whoever she was or whatever had happened, she meant him no harm. He stumbled to his feet, his legs feeling like lead, pausing a moment to catch his breath and his balance. "Is something wrong?" he asked, following her gaze toward the ocean, seeing nothing but sea and sky.

"They're coming." That was all she said, two words heavily laden with deep concern, fear for him and herself. There was no sign of people in the trees that lined the sandy shore, or of ships on the sea, but she seemed certain that they were not alone. Clumsy on her bare feet, as though not accustomed to walking upright, she stumbled up the slope of the beach toward the rugged shadow of a cave set back in the foliage, tugging on his hand in hers, her expression pleading with him not to argue. "Come. Please."

He wasn't sure why, but he acquiesced, following her lead without argument, sensing some fear in her and deciding to trust her. She had caused him no harm so far, and he had a strange niggling feeling he had her to thank for still being alive. Hopefully, once she was satisfied they were safe, she would answer his questions, and everything would become clear.

She hurried him away from the shoreline, throwing constant glances back over her shoulder toward the empty sea, only seeming to relax just a little when the shadow of the trees closed over them. Her hand released his, creeping to touch his back, ushering him forward ahead of her and into the dry confines of the cave she had brought him to. It was a small space, yes, but cosy in its way - a firepit had been dug out by the entrance, leaves laid out in a makeshift bed, and from the back wall trickled a steady flow of fresh water.

He flinched briefly when she touched him, self-conscious of the faded ridges of old scars criss-crossing his back, old but not forgotten, as she ushered him ahead. He ducked his head as he stepped into the cool confines of the cave, wondering if she was the child of a castaway and this was her island home. There were so many questions clogging up his head he could hardly think straight, but at the moment, he was almost too exhausted to ask them. He collapsed on the ground to take a lean up against the cold rock wall, shoving a hand through his hair again, frowning as he came away with a bit of dried blood on his fingertips.

Seemingly satisfied that whatever was coming would not come for them here, Leilani let him move away from her, dropping his shirt to the cool, packed sand at his hip. She had seen nothing about his back to alarm her - for all she knew, all human men were marked in such a way, with rumpled flesh crossing over itself at their spine.

"You are thirsty?" she asked her newfound companion, barely pausing to wait for an answer before moving to the slow trickle of fresh water at the rock face close by. She took a richly jewelled goblet from a collection of odds and ends lined up lovingly on the sand, filling it from the spring and returning to kneel at his side, offering the large cup to him in both her small hands. "Drink."

Cian wiped the dried blood on his trousers. No wonder his head was aching and feeling like his skull was splitting open. In all the chaos, he must have struck his head on something. It would explain why he couldn't really remember what exactly had happened or how he'd arrived here. He blinked out of his thoughts to find her kneeling over him, his shirt lying rumpled beside him, either forgotten or discarded. She seemed more concerned with his well being than with her own nakedness, and he couldn't help but wonder why.

"Do you live here?" he asked, trying to make sense of the little that she'd told him. His gaze lingered on her face a moment, a breaktakingly beautiful sight to behold, before reaching for the cup with a shaky hand, noticing that it was no ordinary cup.

"I was born on the island," she told him, seeing no reason to keep any secrets from him. She wasn't accustomed to the concept of lying, not even when her sisters had explained it to her, unable to understand why anyone would say something that wasn't the truth. Leaning toward her little pile of oddments once again, she drew a delicate comb, carved from a single piece of silver-set ivory, and raised her hands to his tangle of hair, very gently beginning to work through the snarls, seeking out the source of the blood. "Do you have a name?"

He flinched at first, relaxing once he realized she only meant to comb his hair. He took a deep swallow of water, wetting his parched throat, pausing a moment to answer her question before draining what remained in the goblet. "Cian," he answered, finding no reason to give her more than his first name.

"Cian." She drew the unfamiliar syllables out, tasting them separately and then together, seemingly pleased with the way his name sounded as it tripped off her tongue. Rising high onto her knees, she leaned close as the comb just barely dragged into a thick knot of bloodied hair, parting the dark strands to find the split in his scalp. "The cask hit you harder than I thought it did."

He turned his head to follow her, for the moment, more curious about her than concerned about his scalp. His head felt thick, his thoughts muddled and slow, but at last, he put a few of the pieces of the puzzle together. "You rescued me. You pulled me from the wreckage and brought me here." More statement than question, he wasn't really expecting an answer. Rather, he was just talking out loud as he tried to suss it all out. He looked up at her as he realized all this, his eyes wide with wonder.

She paused in her efforts to untangle his hair, lowering back down onto her heels as he came to the right conclusion, a small smile curving her lips and lighting up her eyes, pleased that he wasn't so badly hurt as she had first feared. "I am only one," she admitted in her soft lilting voice. "I should have dragged you down. They will be angry with me when they find out." She seemed resigned to the anger of whoever 'they' were, as though she had weathered it before and would do so again. "I won't let them hurt you."

A strange chattering sound broke through the gentle wash of waves against the sand, almost as though a single dolphin had broken the surface to call to them, jerking Leilani's attention from Cian toward the rocky line close by that protected the cave and treeline from the encroaching sea. She opened her mouth, and what emerged was not words or even a suggestion toward a human tone, but more of that strange clicking chatter, a reply to the call from the sea. Emerald green eyes turned back to Cian with a warm smile.

"I will come back," she promised, and broke into a run, stumbling over the sand, across the rocks, jumping into the sheltered pool. When she broke the surface, she wasn't alone - another head and shoulders was there, another feminine silhouette crowned with black hair. They held that place for just a bare minute, before both dived down beneath the water. Two beautiful man-sized fish-tails flicked up out of the water briefly as they dived, seemingly offering a wave to the man left on the beach for now.

He watched as she departed, the strange chattering reaching his ears, and though he was too sore and weary to follow, he watched with widening eyes as another of her kind appeared - one of her sisters, he assumed. After a moment, they both disappeared beneath the water, fish-like tails flicking behind them, and he realized with more than a little wonder what she was, or what he thought she was. There could be no other explanation but that she was a mermaid or some creature akin to mermaids, but it still didn't explain why she'd bothered with him. Brows furrowed in thought, he watched for a long moment, waiting to see if she'd return, before his eyes drooped wearily closed, almost against his will.

It was perhaps a full half hour before Leilani returned, bearing with her the fruits of her little trip ....parts of the cargoes washed up along the various beaches, carefully carried above the water to keep them dry. Of course, it was a little more difficult to bring her gathered offerings up to the cave when she pulled herself from the sea - it took time for her tail to dry and split once again to legs, which meant she had to pull herself up over the sand as much as she was dragging her prizes. Her hands scrabbled on the edge of the smooth rock at the cave mouth, seeking out a handhold that wasn't there, the sound of her breathless struggle audible as she pushed the dry bundle of food and blankets into the shelter of the rock.

Cian's eyes fluttered open when the sounds of her struggling reached his ears, and he gathered what strength he had left to push off the wall of the cave and move to his feet, pausing a moment as the cave spun around him, one hand pressed against the stone wall, before regaining his balance. He shuffled slowly toward the opening to peer out into the bright sunlight, too late to see her tail transform into legs, but in time to help her drag her prizes into the makeshift shelter.

If he'd moved sooner, he would have seen that transformation, but perhaps he would not have been able to cope with seeing it. Not yet. Pleased with herself, the smile Leilani gave Cian as they pulled the heavy bundles into the cave was almost childlike with delight, settling onto her knees as she set about opening them up. "You should sleep," she told him, still breathless from her struggle over the sand. "I have things ....I saw in the ships that sank that the places where you sleep have these on them, so I found some that were dry." As she spoke, she pulled a pair of thick blankets from her bundle, shaking them out toward him.

"You're a mermaid," he told her bluntly, his eyes wandering over her again, unable to hide the wonder and curiosity from his face. He'd heard tales of them, but had thought them a myth, never having seen one before in all his travels at sea. But then, he wasn't really all that surprised either, knowing there was much he didn't know about, his heart yearning for adventure, even amidst this latest disaster. He took the blankets from her, moving back to the spot he'd claimed as his near the wall, not wanting to frighten her, now that he knew what she was.

She blinked in surprise at his blunt comment, a quiet giggle escaping her smiling lips. "I've heard sailors call us that," she agreed with a nod. "Mother calls us Syreni. It means daughters of the sea." Leilani shrugged lightly, curling up comfortably by the smooth rock wall, keeping her distance purely because he was doing the same. She watched him staring at her, wondering what it was he saw to look at now when before he had been so determined not to look at her. "You are not like the men in the black ship. Maleia says she will keep you a secret for me. You are safe."

He frowned at her statement, not liking to be compared to men like those in any way. "No, I'm not," he agreed, settling himself back down on the ground, fanning a blanket and spreading it over his legs. He snatched his shirt up and pulled it back on over his head, since she didn't seem to want to wear it. Wet as it was and full of sand, he was too self-conscious of his own body to let himself go shirtless for long if he didn't have to. "Safe for now," he corrected, not knowing what he was going to do. He glanced at the ring he wore on his right hand, turning it idly in place, knowing he was too far from home for it to do him much good here.

She seemed to fold in on herself under his frown, not understanding what she had said or done to offend him, not realising that to compare him with pirates was something rude and difficult to ignore. "I found more," she offered in a shy voice, pulling a wrap of dry cloth from the bundle. "Wet things will make you sick." She offered him the wrap of cloth, which turned out to be a lady's white undergown and a man's plum shirt, gathered together in the knot of a sword belt.

Cian glanced from her to the bundle of cloth she held in her arms, shoving the blanket aside and pushing himself to his feet once again to take the bundle from her, the wet shirt clinging to his skin and making him shiver in the damp confines of the cave, despite the warm sunshine just a few feet away. He unwrapped the bundle, frowning as he pulled a woman's chemise out of the wrapping, glancing at her with furrowed brows, trying hard not to notice the fact that she was naked behind that cascade of golden hair.

He slung the gown over one arm and held it out to her, hoping she'd take it without him having to explain why he was uncomfortable with her nakedness. "Here, take this. It belongs to a woman."

Leilani looked up from her curl against the rock, the innocence of her confusion showing plain in her eyes as she pushed herself to stand once again, bare toes digging against the packed sand beneath her. Her gaze flickered to the gown thrown over his arm, lifting back to his face as her hands hesitantly reached to take the thin cloth from him. "What should I do with it?"

"Put it on," he replied simply, eyes pleading with her, unsure if she had ever worn clothing before or even knew what to do with it. "Like this," he instructed, tugging the wet shirt over his head and replacing it with the plum tunic, loose sleeves gathered at his wrists, the collar open at the neck. It was a loose fit, but would do for now.

He shrugged again, drawing the blanket up higher, despite the fact that it was the middle of the day, meeting her gaze as she laid a hand against his cheek, her fingers soothingly cool. It took him a moment to find his voice and form the words of the question he wanted to ask, almost afraid of the answer, either ignoring or not noticing her concern. "What happened to them?"

"I do not think you truly wish to know." She paused, inching closer to inspect his face, feeling the strange heated flush on his skin at her fingertips and seeing the fevered touch to his gaze. She might not have known the words for it, but she knew that he would grow ill if she did not take care of him properly. She twitched the other blanket over his legs, crawling to her stolen bundles to produce another couple of the woollen covers, laying them out as a buffer between him and the stone. "You should lie down, sleep."

"They're dead, aren't they?" he asked, stating what seemed to be the obvious. Though he had spent a few months on board the ship, he had kept mostly to himself, remaining aloof, not really forming any close relationships, for personal reasons. "It's my fault," he told her, eyes bright with fever and grief. "I'm the one who led them here."

"You did not call the storm," Leilani told him quietly, reaching beneath the blankets that covered him to grasp his arm, gently pulling to draw him over to where she had laid out the others in a bedroll. "You did not fire upon your ship. You did not drag the men down to their deaths. That they were here at all was their own choice. If you truly believe their deaths to be on your conscience ....would you rather I took you back to the ocean and drowned you with them?" The look in her eyes suggested that she wouldn't even consider this, even if he agreed to it.

He made to attempt to resist as she dragged him toward the bedroll, sore and weary and sick at heart. He'd seen men die at sea before a long time ago, and though he knew in his heart that he wasn't to blame, he still felt grief for their deaths. "No," he replied, thoughts turning to his brother and his mother. As much as he missed them, he was in truth not ready to join them yet. He still had too much living to do. "No, not yet," he told her quietly as he laid his aching head down on the makeshift bedroll, watching her with feverish eyes. "Why did you save me" Why me?"

For the first time Leilani seemed embarrassed, shy of the truth that tripped off her tongue in reply to his quiet question. "I ....I was watching your ship, following for a day and a night," she confessed, avoiding his gaze as she shook out the blankets once again, laying both over him, tucking the ends tight against his body to hold in what heat he had. "I saw you, watching the stars, and ....you seemed so sad. I did not want you to die without smiling again."

He wasn't quite sure how to answer that. He'd had very little in his life to smile about lately, or so he thought. There had been a time when his life had seemed carefree, or so he'd told himself - a time when the only thing that was important was adventure, but that time of childlike innocence seemed to have been lost forever. "You were watching me?" he asked, a little incredulously.

Even as a child, he'd loved to watch the stars come out at night, wondering in childlike wonder what other worlds were out there, what kind of people one might meet and what adventures one might have, longing one day to become a true hero, just like in the books he'd read as a boy, but he was starting to wonder if it was all just a silly boy's dream.

Her sudden shyness coalesced into a tiny smile at his incredulity, not understanding why he would find that such a strange thing for her to do. "Ships do not pass by the island twice," she pointed out in her quietly lilting voice, shifting about to gently raise his head. With no pillow to offer him, instead the little mermaid insinuated herself into place until his head and shoulders could rest easy in her lap, gentle fingers teasing his hair back out of his eyes once again. "Is it so strange that I would follow your ship, that I would see you?" Her smile warmed for a moment as she relaxed against the cave wall. "That I would like watching you?"

Once again, he made no argument as he found his head pillowed in her lap, looking up into eyes as green as emeralds and a face too beautiful to be human. "It is for me," he answered, closing his eyes, too weary to keep them open much longer. "You are beautiful," he told her quietly, his voice not much more than a whisper, feeling almost drunk with weariness, his ache throbbing painfully, though her touch was lulling him into sleepiness.

"Sleep," was her murmuring answer, the gentle cadence of her voice mingling with the wash of the waves against the sand not far away even as her fingers turned to drag lightly through his hair, enjoying the sense of being the protective one for possibly the first time in her life. "I will not leave you alone."

As hard as he tried to remain awake, his eyes grew heavy against his will, the throbbing in his head soothed by the gentleness of her touch. Comforted by her promise not to leave him alone, he at last surrendered, letting sleep take him, too worn out and weary to fight it any longer.

((This just isn't Cian's year, is it' The accident, his brother's death, and now he's been shipwrecked! Makes for good story, huh' And, of course, huge thanks to Cian's player for this scene!))