Once upon a time, in a far-off land, there was a small village by the sea. This village had existed for a long time, far longer than any of its residents could remember - and some of them were quite old. During all of that time, all of those years, the village had not changed what it was. For many, many years it had been nothing but a calm, peaceful town of fishermen and women. Its population never exceeded five hundred people, and they liked it that way. Every person in the village knew every other person, and they were all friends. Because of this, the small village had the sort of very close-knit community that larger cities often try to replicate but never are quite able to.
Nothing very much happened in the small village outside of what they expected to happen, and that was a good thing. They loved their traditions and routines, for those were what held the beauty of their community within them. Each one held a different meaning for them, and these meanings were celebrated anew each time they went about their routines or practiced their traditions, never losing their wonder. The traditions were what made the village what it was, and so because of them it was a place of happiness.
And it is in a time of happiness that our story begins. Winter had been settled over the village for several months, and spring had just begun to peek into the lives of the people, like a curious animal examining a new patch of land. The snow had melted, bringing smiles to the faces of the fishermen, for they could begin their trade anew. The children were saddened to see their natural playthings melt away, but this was soon replaced by elation as the spring festivals began. As they laughed and played throughout the flower-adorned streets, their parents and siblings launched their boats and set up their nets.
In one particular home, located just next to the piers, a boy of about eighteen or nineteen lived with his older brother, a young man in his mid twenties. They had been on their own for as long as they could remember, and only the older brother had even a dim recollection of their parents. In their much younger years they had lived at an orphanage, and had worked hard to acquire fishing equipment and a house of their own. Now, they were known and loved throughout the village as fishermen of some renown.
The older brother was a man who took his work very seriously. He was a skilled fisherman and sailor, though he would never boast about it. As the elder, it was his duty to make sure that his brother was always well cared-for and had food to eat, and he took this duty quite seriously. Still, he would always find time for the two of them to enjoy themselves.
The younger brother was a more impulsive sort. Though a good fisherman in his own right, he lacked patience and would often abandon his work when he lost interest. He had many lofty dreams, and yearned to do something more than just fish. His brother empathized with him, but without his help they would not be able to survive.
“I know that you wish to leave the village,” the younger brother would often be told, “but that cannot happen. If you were to leave, I alone would not be able to afford our house and equipment. I am sorry, but you must stay.”
At this the younger would shake his head and make a show of disdain and annoyance, but deep within him was love for his brother. It was this that would never allow him to leave. But he could still dream, and dream he did, in every spare moment.
He dreamed of being a soldier on the front lines, fighting for his beliefs and his nation. He dreamed of being an intrepid explorer, charting paths through forgotten lands. He dreamed of being a scholar at a great academy, learning all there was to know about the world. He dreamed of countless things, countless possibilities. The young man had no shortage of dreams.
But despite all of this, he knew that these dreams would never come to be, as much as it pained him to acknowledge it. Sighing, he would push them to the back of his mind and do what was required of him in that particular moment. In this particular case, it was preparing to set out onto the water for the day with his rods and nets. He disliked doing this, as it was uneventful and boring, but did recognize that it was something he had to do, and do often. And so, with his brother waving goodbye from the shore, he sailed off into the harbor.
The day was nothing out of the ordinary, as was to be expected. He managed to haul in an average-sized catch, and as the sun began to sink lower in the sky, prepared to take the boat home, sighing in relief. As he stowed the last of his equipment, though, the distinct feeling of being watched came over him. He looked up and around the boat, but could see nobody. Still, he could not shake the sensation. He was certain that it was not merely his imagination.
On the journey back home, he kept a careful eye on the waters around him, watching for anyone that could be doing the same to him. For much of the trip nothing exceptional came into his field of vision, however, and he was just considering accepting that he had been foolish and wasted his time when something caught his eyes
It vanished almost as soon as he laid eyes on it, but it certainly had been there. It had been unlike anything he had ever seen before, and he did not know what to think of it. Had he imagined it? No, definitely not. It had been there, he was sure of it. A humanoid head, half-submerged in the waves, with two bright yellow eyes peering out at him from underneath hair like seaweed. What could it be, though?
He posed this question to his brother later that night, as they sat at the dinner table together over a freshly-caught meal. “You may have seen a mermaid, or perhaps a siren. Either way, it is good that you told me of this. I will inform the village headman tomorrow.”
The younger brother grew excited at this. “A mermaid? I didn’t know they came here.”
“They do not, at least not normally. That is why this may well be dangerous. Mermaids are normally benevolent creatures, but if the one you saw is exhibiting strange behavior, we’d best be on our guard.” He shook his head slowly. “We should not interfere with beings of magic.”
The younger nodded reluctant assent, but within him enthusiastic thoughts roiled and swirled. Finally, something had happened! His mundane village life seemed less mundane, even if only for a moment. Even with the knowledge of potential danger, deep inside of him he hoped that he could see the mermaid again.
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