There was an ancient being whose heart ached all his life.  Through magic, he pulled that pain to the surface. Bubbles arose on his eternal sea, and a woman emerges, blue and green, With hair like sea foam. Melancholy. At first, she was frightened and soulless. He smoothed her face till her eyes filled And her being shifted. He could not keep her for himself, So he set her free into the sea.  As she swam, The pain that had haunted him all his life, Drifted away. The nymph knew not what she looked for in the ocean. She spoke and talked with whatever she found, and learned its ways. Turtles, seaweed, the crags, and cliffs below.  Warning her of man and his ill intentions, for one so beautiful, They would net and rope and pull her to the deck, And violate.  For a hundred years she kept to the sea, avoiding constructions of wood and metal that hummed with laughter and chanteys.  A hundred years is long,  She became bored,  And began appearing near edges of ships, Captivating lone sailors, Patrolling decks, late in the night And then she’d disappear.

Sometimes the men would jump in after her and drown, After the third time a man died before her, She stopped visiting for another hundred years. One day, to reasons unknown to her, she found herself drawn to a lone ship.  The crew was full of creatures, only half of which were men.  A being composed of the darkness that weighed more than the deepest fathoms she had swum.  Another was bald, serene, and has shapes and curves and lips like her own.  Another, half-beast in mind and spirit, with a missing eye, who seemed to see her before she ever emerged She followed for days.  As it stopped at this island and that. When the ship entered a storm, she charmed it with protection, And it made its way through.  One night, on a still sea, starless, she climbed aboard. No one was around, except a lone sailor, leaning against the railings, looking out into the sea.  She sat beside him before he even realized who she was.  “Are you going to rope and rape me?” She asked. He shook his head. “May I sit here when I please, and enjoy the company of dry things?” He nodded.  Together they sat. The professor began to weep but he did not know why. Her cold hand placed atop of his, and soon she was gone.  The nymph returned many nights. Each night she sat only with him. They talked and sometimes if stars were aligned, they laughed.  Soon he introduced her to the crew,  The Enthusiastic Professor. The Distilled Monk. The Mad Captain.  The Golem. And The Knot.  He offered her clothes, boots, sword, a place on the ship.  She considered, and decided to stay.  Now she sails with the Nameless, Weighty crew on the ship the floats the endless sea of an ancient being, seeking agency and the glimmer somewhere far off that twinkles in all their eyes.