First And Only Tear

Here's my latest story. The Real Version of a Legend. I hope you like it. :) Special thanks to bluewaterlily and Stori for helping me out<3

Also, check out the cover: http://i1079.photobucket.com/albums/w502/GeeLyria/FirstAndOnlyTear_zps159edcd7.jpg

The sun hit the sea and melted within its waves, as usual. This was Captain Alamar's way of knowing it was time to hop on and sail towards his daily routine with his crew. Tick was one good representation of a cliché in this legend; he was the parrot pirate; the captain's only trustable comrade. The bird had the ability of detecting when they were approaching a sirens' reef, rather by superstition. And, although it was earless, like any other parrot, it had the gift of hearing a fish-woman's murmurs echoing, fading evanescently, under the deep waters. He well knew that having a woman aboard guaranteed bad luck, it's why sailors tend to reach out for the sirens at night. Every time Tick began to shake its wings weakly on Captain Alamar's shoulder, he would smile mischievously, because it only meant one thing; once again, luck was on their side and their target was underneath the surface. Every living, or moribund, soul on the ship knew it was time to let the anchor fall to one side for it to stab the sand.

The Captain grabbed that bottle of rum that was posing for him over the table closer to him, as he leaned back on his golden, stolen throne. You could see how his own malevolent purposes dwelt in his eyes, but then again, perhaps that was just his nature, or fate. After all, he was just one hellish, malodorant pirate; king of the sea... nothing else. His frayed clothes appeared to be more rotten than anything; it conserved the odor of salt, sweat, fish, algae rum, and urine. He staggered the bottle abruptly and drunkenly, as usual, and made the alcohol fall all over him and his astringent hair, if you could actually call that "hair". A pirate's ideal perfume, he must've thought with delight.

Alamar approached the edge and looked down at that boat awaiting him from the ship. He hopped out of it, like a skydiver jumping off a plane, and his body sank into the starry dark waters. He floated back to the surface and swam towards the boat. And there he waited, looking at the calmed waves being illuminated by the full moon.

A siren's blue and green scales were visible from where the wind could be felt. From the deepness of the sea, her eyes kidnapped his silhouette as she watched him curiously. By impulse, she started swimming closer to the highest wave of the ocean. Her body, like the waves of a melody on the air, the perfect image of a delicate and flawless marine motion. When he least expected it, her face bumped into the air, and she was trapped on the moon's expansive reflection with her hair pulled back, soaking wet. Voraciously, her eyes glanced at him with her else wise so warm looking gaze, steadily piercing his pupils with an ambivalence-provocative sparkle; they reflected innocence and that limited amount of wisdom that seemed to be extirpated out of questions, instead of experience; a paradoxical head-tilting stare that made him pose an impressed expression on his face. He stood there for a moment, paralyzed, when her cheekbones began to raise as her lips drew a childish curve.

The moment took its sweet time, and out of the expected, notes started to float out her lips. There wasn't an actual reason for what she was doing, I reckon it was instinct, or perhaps it was just fate. After all, the poor thing seemed to be a little child wanting to hunt problematic adventures, for not knowing any better... or, most likely, for not knowing about malice.

She began to approach him slowly, it seemed like she wasn't even making the effort, her body was simply getting near to that old, and yet unknown, face with rotten teeth; it was like the sea  dragged her out of the moon's reflection. She was still singing, beautifully, as if the melody that she was singing out was a reflection of her in a non-physical way.

Out of a sudden, she stopped. Alamar finally changed that static expression of his, and smiled as he placed his lips beside her ear. He whispered a greeting, or perhaps it was a compliment because the blood in her cheeks began to show on her pale skin. He, slowly, got off the boat and jumped into the water, looking straight into her eyes and forgetting about his crew. This one siren was alone, therefore, the Captain must have had the privilege of fishing her by right. Her eyes reflected the fear of the unknown, her pupils narrowed, even though they were beneath the dark.

"Has a tear rolled down your cheek over the surface of the wet side?" He asked, tilting his head, pretending he could actually have a formal conversation by acting over his real nature. His hook  brushed her cheek gently.

The siren stood silent for a moment, and her eyes wandered to the sides, nervously.

"What..." she said, and leaned forward. "What is a tear?" she added within a whisper.

"Do you not know? Maybe..." he laughed with a cryptic tone. "Maybe I can show you..." he added as he grabbed her closer to his body. He grazed his lips against hers, bluntly and yet softly, and then gusted a kiss. She couldn't tell if she wanted it or not; she did nothing to impede or stop his audacious demeanor; she was rather conditioned to flow with the tide anyway. Perhaps, the truth was that perhaps, deep inside, she didn't really want to fight situation. Until she felt the sharp tip of a hook penetrating her reeling tail, she gasped in pain, as if she just got shot on the chest. She hissed, and he smiled with satisfaction, with that evil purpose sparkling in his eyes. She tugged her body backwards to try and escape to the depth side, but she was cuffed by the pirate's hook.

"Where do you think you're going, eh?" He asked, and seized her chin in between his hands. She said nothing, with that sudden fear of the unknown that had just bloomed inside of her, and she was only able to hiss.

"Aye... Cry young thing, I'd love to see you cry."

The siren did not know what he meant by that, but for not knowing, she cried. That one tear was spilled over the ocean.

"Lovely, sweetheart... Just lovely," he commented ghoulishly.

Brusquely and unexpectedly, he began to swim back to the surface, and dragged her all the way down, towards the sand. The scales of the siren's tail began to fall off; they were floating all over the place; she was now released from the pirate's hook, and he began to swim back to where he belonged. Her legs had been uncovered, but before she could learn how to swim with those, her body fell over the sand. Her reddish hair turned black, and her skin acquired a gray tone. Death was upon her. Her nature said she shouldn't have shed a tear outside the water, but nature betrayed that young and ingenuous thing... or perhaps, it was simply fate.