The Soul of Muir Éireann

Fish are friends

(Written by SinpaiCasanova and Enterthetadpole)

Mark cocked his head to the side, those brown eyes of his darting around to try and find the source of that voice. The creature's mouth never moved, but his gaze stayed fixed on Mark. It was almost like those blue orbs that captivated his attention so easily were peering into his soul. He felt warm and safe, but also exposed for all to see. The creature kept a cautious look about him, waiting for Mark to answer his question.

"Do you not understand this dialect? I can hear it inside your mind so you must be able to understand me." The voice said, and Mark could feel the confusion laced into his thick accent.

"W-who said that?" Mark choked out, glancing around frantically until the creature began to produce that strange clicking sound once again.

"Do you understand me?" The voice asked, a series of morse code like clicks following afterward.

Mark could feel his already opened mouth drop even lower, and now it was the creature's turn to cock its head in severe bewilderment. The warm feeling was still passing through Mark like waves, and he almost felt like he couldn't pull way from his ocean gaze if he tried.

"Is your name Fish?"

The question was said slower this time, as if trying to make sure that Mark could understand each and every word.

"Yes, I mean...it's Fischbach, actually."

The creature in front of him opened his mouth in what was clearly a sigh of relief. It seemed that Mark did understand him, and a small smile appears on his pink lips.

"Oh good, I was worried that this stuff in between us was making it too difficult to understand what I was saying to you."

"How can you be talking to me inside of my head? Is this a dream, or a trick?"

The creature shook his head slowly, the smile he wore fading into a frown at the question. Couldn't Mark do these types of things as well? His exposure to humans has been limited, but he assumed that they couldn't be all that different from him. After all, they did share quite a few biological traits. Mark's hand was still pressed against the glass, allowing the warmth from this aquatic creature to pass through the clear barrier. It was as if he couldn't sever the connection that was being made between them, even though his mind was begging him to haul his ass out of there and never look back.

The creature sighed, feeling the fear and anxiety that accompanied that particular thought. Mark was afriad of him? But why? He wasn't the one that was forcibly removed from his home and shoved into a cramped tank to await an auction he wanted no part of. This wasn't fair, but the creature knew he at least had to try and charm his way out of this tank, otherwise he was destined to spend the rest of his days in the bonds of servitude.

"Please don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. Fish are friends after all." He murmured, smiling sweetly as his colorful tail swished beside him.

"What do you want me to do?" Mark said, his eyes flitting to the different parts of the creature. His tail was simply radiant and shimmered like jewels in the dark water.

"Can you help me get out of here, Fish? The ones that bring me food talk a lot. The tall human with the thick glasses told the other one that you know where all of the exits are in this place."

Mark nodded his head slowly, only partially wondering why Harold would tell anyone else about his knowledge of the floors. That had to be the man that this creature was speaking about. Harold was tall and lanky with incredibly thick glasses, and granted Mark and him were hardly friends but why would Harold tell others about the fact that Mark knew the many ways in and out of the facility?

"Have they been hurting you?" Mark asked before it even registered why he had said it, but even before the creature answered, he already knew that it was true. It was no secret to him that the living conditions for these poor animals was horrible, but to actually see a humanoid creature locked up like this was hitting him hard. It then occurred to Mark that the creature in the tank was indeed sentient, and that those clicks he was making was some sort of language he shared with the rest of his kind.

"I'm not one to complain, but your species is quiet cruel. I've lost track of how long I've been trapped in here, but these humans take pleasure in reminding me that I am soon to be another's property. They mean to sell me to a human like I'm just a trinket. Why would they do that?" The creature murmured, a series of corresponding clicks sounding as he spoke. Mark frowned, still trying to wrap his mind around this situation.

"I don't know. You're not like any of the other animals that I've seen in here. But perhaps that's the point." Mark replied, more to himself than to the creature asking the question.

"I am not an animal, Fish. I am one of the last merrow in existence. I don't belong in a cage. I belong to the sea."

"Merrow?" Mark found himself repeating back, his blood suddenly running cold. "Like mermaids and mermen?"

There used to be a lot of merpeople around, though most of the wild ones were gone by the time that Mark was born. They were also sold as pets to wealthy people and overbred until disease and poor living conditions claimed most of the ones still in captivity.

The creature tilts his head again, noticing the pain flowing through the human's body. It is obvious that Mark understood more about his species than he first realized.

"Merrow are related to merpeople," he admits, "But merrow are special. We can walk on land as well as live in the sea."

"How is that possible?" Mark asks, his dark gaze hovering to the creature's flitting tail again.

"If you can get me out of here Fish, I can show you."