ISAS; RE. Chapter two!
CW for depictions of trauma. ---
Scarves! Scarves were pretty hip, weren't they? They all came in various shades, materials, patterns… one would easily mask the star mark! Isabeau scanned the city for a clothing store, but doubted himself. As the curse spread, more and more shops were closing down. He'd truly be lucky to find one.
A thrift store was the answer to his prayers. It was technically closed, but the lights were still on. The people inside were frozen in time, mid-laugh, mid-transactions. It was all fine if he took a scarf and left, right? He didn't exactly have human currency, either.
The creature searched everywhere for one single scarf. It didn't have to be high class! Any scarf would do, even if it were a gaudy shade. But he touched something and for a split second, he too, was frozen in time. His heart had surely stopped.
Fingers softly stroked the umistakeable downy hair of a fellow merfolk spun and sewn into a scarf, and sweat dotted his brow. The shade of hair much like his own greeted him, merciless to his abject horror. He wanted to deny it, and avert his gaze. As if looking directly would turn it into reality.
Isabeau had multiple siblings, growing up. Bile crept up his throat…had a hunter taken one of his brothers?
As a young sharkpup, his mother told him many tales about what humans did to merfolk. How they were poached for various materials. Held captive. Forced to sing until their throats gave out. Memories of tales of his kin going missing swam through his mind, hushed whispers of their fate on land. But even so, he stood on two strange legs, trying to be among humans.
He blinked, glancing back to the scarf in the bin. The fear re-solidifed into a hefty chunk of ice in his chest. He knew he wasn't safe here, as some kind of abomination from the sea. He didn't know if any of the frozen customers could still see or if they were technically asleep…
The creature left the mermaid hair scarf where it was, thinking he'd rather die than wear it.
Isabeau took off running, immediately regretting that when he stumbled into a sandy bank.
─── ᧔࿔᧓ ────── ᧔࿔᧓ ───
Unaware of Isabeau's situation, Mirabelle nervously glanced at her papers. She prayed for something to get her mind off of them. Thankfully, the creature approached her with a shy smile, while trying to get sand out of his lush hair.
"Mira." he greeted. "How're the letters coming along?"
"Oh! Ah…" Mirabelle set them down next to her with extreme care, "…they're…difficult."
Isabeau sensed a large, emotional wall. A wall he was unsure he could pass through. There was an awkward silence…
"Could you teach me how to write a letter, Mira?" He asked, twiddling his thumbs. "Down under, we have conch phones. Using them is a little tiring, but luckily we can leave voice messages anytime we want!"
The housemaiden smiled like a sunbeam, "Sure, if you can teach me how to sing!"
That sinking feeling again. An anchor of regrets pulling him into the abyss. He grimaced, trying to think of how to politely say "no".
"You…can sing…can't you, Isabeau?"
Smoldering charcoals threatened to tear out of his tightening throat. Isabeau tried to shove his strange dream aside, and focus. Sweat dripped onto the earth in heavy droplets. He tried to speak. Say anything. Just…normal WORDS.
His polite "no" sounded like an anxious "sure can!"
The adoring housemaiden eagerly waited for him to sing. He had no material to use at will…until he thought of…
"Gentle hands, tending my cuts. Gentle hands, sewing my wounds.
Stitching my aching heart together.
Saving me from doom.
Gentle hands, soft on my skin. Gentle hands, so kind to me.
Holding me firmly, through my rescue.
Turning my world askew.
Gentle hands, hold me again…"
Mirabelle was silent until he finished his impromptu song. She giddily applauded his performance with a wider smile, showing all of her teeth.
"Isabeau, that's beautiful! Why don't you sing more often?"
He stammered, feeling like he was cornered.
"It's just…hard. For me."
Idling with his fingers, he prayed that Mirabelle wasn't going to suggest anything akin to vocal warm ups or working on confidence. But she stayed silent, processing what little he said.
The Housemaiden scooted from the papers, and took one of his hands into her own.
"If you would like, we could write songs together when this is all over!"
He had never composed, but the idea intrigued him greatly.
"I would like that, Mira!" He grinned back at her.
But the creature knew he had to be careful. To write a song, let alone a melody, was another way for ideas to take form. Dangerous ideas. Wars were waged in the past, down under. With soldiers being empowered by song as they marched into battle. The last thing Isabeau wanted to do was cast a spell on his dear one. Deep in thought, he rubbed his neck.
"Erm…Isabeau?" Mirabelle gestured, "What is that mark you have?"
Again, he blanched.
"It…is… a Crafted tattoo! It makes me stronger in battle!"
Mirabelle pursed her lip at that, unsure if he was uttering falsehoods.
"The magic of merfolk really is something special…" She quipped.
Suddenly, the creature was a child again. Just a mere pup watching his father entertain dinner guests with energetic trick displays. With a snap of his father's fingers, sparks dispersed from his palm into the shapes of various sea creatures. With a wave of his hands, the shapes spun around everybody as they all cheered. The young sharkpup clapped and giggled, reaching for one of the images. But just like falling sand, it dissapeared.
The den became dark. Isabeau chirped for his father, while ice entered his veins. What he tried reaching for next was but a mirage.
"Isabeau??"
The creature snapped back to the present, having fallen to his knees and clutching his pounding head. Blearily, he looked up at Mirabelle.
"Are you alright?"
Another question he didn't know how to answer. His voice didn't work. He was shaking.
"…let's talk about this later!" Mirabelle offered, "I'll see you at the clocktower then?"
Isabeau nervously got up and nodded, brushing the sand off himself.
𓏲˖°𓇼𓏲˖°𓇼𓏲˖°𓇼𓏲˖°𓇼𓏲˖°𓇼𓏲˖°𓇼𓏲˖°𓇼
He wandered back to the shore, facing the sky and the sea. It was odd; the farther his home was, the smaller the attachment to it became. Ever since he began his original quest to become human, there were very few threads connecting him to his waters of birth.
One withering and thin thread…was an old friend.
Isabeau never got to tell her goodbye, when he left on his first major adventure.
It was a necessary departure. The creature had been ostracized all his life. Even before he was…a he! In those dark, unclear times… he masqueraded as everybody expected him to. Until one day, he forcibly tore open his cocoon of comfort and Crafted himself anew. Stronger. Taller. Bulkier.
Maybe it was best for the former sharkpup to be believed dead. He designed himself to be unrecognizable, after all.
Isabeau then looked over at Bonnie nearby, hugging their knees in the sand. Everyone was still situated in Bambouche, fearing that if they ever left it, Bambouche would freeze over completely. Bonnie was fighting back tears, but trying to keep their brave face.
"…Are you scared, Bonnie?" Isabeau gently prodded.
Bonnie only nodded in response.
"It's okay to be scared."
"No, it's not, Za!" They shouted with a dripping glare, "Being scared is useless! Because I can't do anything! I can't save Nille, I can't save Bambouche! I couldn't even save Frin when their eye…!"
The creature balked at the kid, unsure what words would be best to say.
"Nille's…Nille's everything I have! Without her, I'd be alone on the streets!"
"Nille will be okay." Isabeau smiled sheepishly, "When this is all over, she'll be back to normal."
"Don't you know anything, stupid Za?! Whenever people get into comas, they have to relearn how to move and walk!"
Isabeau's throat tightened again, thinking of his father in an Eternal Sleep. It was…similar to a coma, wasn't it?
"Well, erm… I had to learn how to walk. It hurt, quite a lot. But I did it anyway, because I believed the more I did it, the easier it'd become."
"That's different." Bonnie huffed, "You weren't able to walk before. You had to use a spell to get legs, right?"
Isabeau nodded, scratching his neck.
"And that spell wasn't easy to obtain either, let alone do…" He added.
"When I was finally able to cast it and swim up to land…that's how M'dame Odile and I met!" Isabeau smiled, after a brief pause.
"'Dile looks mean and scary…but she's the nicest. She's even taught me how to stand up for myself and throw some punches! So I wanna beat up the Big Guy when it's time!"
The creature laughed, lightly patting Bonnie on the back.
"You'll get your chance. I promise."
Bonnie grinned, then their eyes lit up.
"We're having a sleepover right? That's what 'Dile said. Because she put up the wards and stuff." They said, after wiping their face.
Isabeau nodded, "Yup, do you have the snacks ready?"
"You'll have to wait and see!"
Soon enough, over the horizon… Siffrin emerged, holding a box with a smile. Their new star-shaped eyepatch was worn. Isabeau eagerly greeted him, ignoring the throbbing pain in his legs.
"Siffy!"
"Did you talk to everyone, Starfish?"
"Sure did! Guess we should get going, huh?"
Thus, everybody ate their fill at the clock tower. Bonnie had prepared grilled shrimp skewers, a hearty vegetable stew, and for dessert they were able to bake sugar cookies with strawberry jam in the centers. Before they all sipped filtered water from their cups, they held them up high, clinked, and cheered uproarously.
Mirabelle gave a nervous, teary speech. She gave everyone an opportunity to leave before the big day… but Isabeau said that everybody was going to stick together and right the wrongs of this so called King.
"We can protect everyone!" He grinned.
"We're gonna kick him in his stupid crabbing butt!" Bonnie exclaimed, standing on their chair to look taller.
The housemaiden wiped a tear, thanking everyone… then it was time for bed. Everybody washed up, changed into nightwear, and settled into the few beds that were available. Bonnie and Mirabelle bunked together, Odile got a bed for herself, leaving the creature and rogue to share the final one.
Isabeau could never sleep on land. He always tried, back at Madame Odile's shack on the beach… but he couldn't reach dreamland. His arms started to itch under the quilt, but he tried not to scratch.
The creature closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. The room smelled of fresh linens. Underwater, he couldn't smell anything at all! Or hear, for that matter. But here, he was listening to everyone's gentle breathing. What were they all dreaming of?
"Isa? Are you awake, starfish?"
He begrudgingly opened his eyes, and turned to face Siffrin on the other side with a smile. Their new eyepatch was off for the night, thus all the scars were visible on the right side of Siffrin's face.
"Sure am." He replied. "This arrangement is…new, to me."
"If you want…I could make ocean sounds, to help you sleep."
Isabeau chuckled, shaking his head.
"No. I need to adjust to this if I ever want to be fully human."
Siffrin frowned a little at his response.
"…there's…a little…something…I want to tell you." They admitted, wringing their hands. "But it has to wait! I'll tell you the thing after we beat the King tomorrow, okay?"
"Can't you tell me now?" Isabeau pouted.
"Sorry, starfish. I…can't. Not yet. Not until the planets are aligned."
"Tease…"
"It's important. The timing has to be just right." Siffrin gazed at the ceiling. "I don't want to fumble or get tongue tied when it's time."
A defeated sigh…then silence.
"I promise. I promise I'll tell you, okay? Swear on my grave."
"No graves." Isabeau glared. "No graves."
"Bury me at sea, then." Siffrin winked.
"No dying!"
Siffrin erupted into laughter, prompting Bonnie to smack them with a pillow.
"Frin, Za! Be quiet! Shut your mouths!"
"All of you be quiet." Odile grumbled. "You're going to give me a migraine. Migraines are bad omens, so I suggest all of you zip it."
"I have a cure for migraines," Mirabelle sleepily mumbled, "But the sooner we defeat that King…the sooner our lives can go back to normal."
Normal.
Isabeau…could never be normal. It was a goal, always out of reach. No matter how much he did for himself, or others, he could never attain normalcy. He was a freak. An unloveable abomination. A creature.
Maybe during the grueling trek inside of the warped House, his tail could finally come off. He could only dream.
Siffrin tossed the pillow back to Bonnie, and burrowed deeper into the shared quilt.
"Good night, Isa."
"Good night, Sif."
