The Demon Lord And His Hero

The morning cycle brought with it Syryn's beloved satchel. A merman with green scales handed the bag to him and left after receiving an effusive thank you from the delighted human.

Syryn locked his door and gripped the mouth of the satchel. This was his treasure trove of items that were associated with his past life. Each object he had inside was a storage of memory that could help him remember his life.

The alchemist curiously looked inside and saw a large number of bottles, vials, glass apparatus, herbal raw materials, clothing, food, and brewing tools. It was true then; he was an alchemist.

Syryn pulled out a potion bottle labelled 'Pain Juice' and frowned at it. What was pain juice supposed to do? The bottle was returned to the bag while the mage mulled over his amnesia. His condition appeared to have minimal effect on his intelligence, awareness, attention span, judgment, and personality. It selectively affected his autobiographical and semantic memories. He wasn't able to recall his life nor the alchemy that he surely was an expert of.

What can I do with this information? He asked himself. Nothing. His short term and long term memory were both working fine after the blackout that severed his memories. He believed that everything would come back to him in time but he had to be patient and allow the natural recollection process of his mind to carry its course.

Syryn examined several more items in his bag that he could safely withdraw without the fear of water damaging them. Anything made of paper or organic matter was left untouched. The mage even dragged out his cauldron to touch it all over the surface just in case it triggered something in his mind.

"I guess that doesn't work.."

The cauldron went back inside and he saw a shirt that was made of a different material. It was a silky white thing with mother of pearl buttons. From the wrinkles on it and the hastily folded condition, Syryn could tell that the 'used' shirt had been thrown inside in a hurry. At a simple glance, the size appeared to be much too large for him. It wasn't his shirt.

"Interesting," he said to himself.

The next item that caught his eye was a long glass tube sealed permanently so that the item inside could only be removed by breaking the glass. Inside it was the preserved stem of a trumpet-shaped flower. Syryn felt strangely hostile but intrigued by the flower. A few strange presumptions floated through his mind. Was this flower a token of love from an ex? Why was he clinging to it? For a while, he played with the idea of breaking the glass and dumping the items, but caution prevailed.

The fruitless endeavour of digging into his bag for memories was set aside for his shipwreck date with a mermaid. Yennie had arrived and was knocking on the glass that looked out over the ocean trench.

______

Shipwreck exploration was a dangerous sport and he was never doing it again. Syryn had gotten trapped inside the hull of the downed ship. The mage had entered the hull through a hole and was unfortunately buried by the wreck that collapsed over him. The fall was a result of the ship's weak structure rotted theough by the water and salt; fragile enough that a light touch brought the whole thing down.

The mage was rescued but not before he suffered a bout of panic brought on by claustrophobia. Being trapped inside tight space underwater brought out a few buried memories that showed him flashes of a dark-eyed man and hot kisses. It was disorienting, confusing, and terrifying at the same time. The mage curled up in a ball and sucked in water through his gills, counting down again and again from ten to one.

He was finally rescued by the mer guards that Yennie had brought back. Syryn could practically feel the guilt oozing off the mermaid when she apologised for not being more mindful.

"I'm alright, Yennie," Syryn had told her but they could all see he wasn't. The mage was shaken up by the experience and wouldn't recover for a few days.

Drevin continued to come for hugs every night. It was comforting to Syryn, especially after his horrifying shipwreck experience. The merman had hugged him and whispered comforting words about how the ocean was spacious and wide, and how the shipwrecks weren't a threat to him if he never went back to explore them.

Syryn fell asleep listening to the silver-blue merman talk. A small jellyfish was curled up between them like a bun. Its tentacle was wrapped around the wrist of the mage. Drevin's gaze fell upon Syryn's half-eaten ear lobe.

"You poor little thing," he murmured. Long pale fingers gently brushed against the crescent-shaped edge where the siren had bitten off his ear.

_____

Almost two days later, Enkansh was let out of his confinement. The siren's scales were growing back slowly and there was already a covering of maroon over the previously exposed skin.

"I heard about your accident."

Syryn had been checking out a seaweed farm with Arhak when he met the maroon tailed siren.

"Here to gloat over my misfortune?" Syryn loudly asked.

A pause.

Enkansh saw a few mermen in the periphery of his vision. They were watching the two alleged enemies interact.

"You're an idiot," the siren said to him. "Delicate humans like you would get crushed by the weight of the wreckage. You're lucky that the fallen beam protected you from serious injuries."

There was no beam protecting him. Syryn realised that Enkansh was filling in a hole he hadn't thought about.

"Maybe next time it'll kill you. I hope it does."

Shoving him aside, the siren swam off.

Syryn watched him get further and further away from them. "Arhak, are you privy to the rumours circulating in the palace?"

"A few... You shouldn't pay attention to them."

"Rumours such as?" Syryn demanded.

The guard hadn't wanted to say it but his charge was leaving him with no choice but to spill.

"Rumours about you and the prince. Rumours that indicate you orchestrated the shipwreck incident to get princess Yennie into trouble. Others think Yennie led you to the wreck to kill you."

Syryn considered the guard's words. Rumours about him and Drevin were bound to arise since the mer prince had become a late-night visitor to his room on the daily; though all they did was share platonic hugs and then talk about their day. What Syryn couldn't understand was why someone would want to twist what had happened at the shipwreck.

"Who would gain from tarnishing my good name?" Syryn asked the mer guard.

"You only have one enemy, the siren. I can't think of anybody else," the guard confessed.