Cas burst through the surface, coughing and sputtering as he gasped for air. The sensation was a new one, given he’d never actually needed air before.

As he went to take his first breath, a wave slammed over his face, pushing him back under. Cas muttered a string of curses, the words coming out as an explosion of bubbles from his lips while he frantically tried to fight his way back to the surface. In that moment, he was met by the startling sensation of something moving instead of his tail—two somethings.

He glanced down at himself, his eyes widening at the sight of two flimsy, pale appendages moving against the churning waters. A dusting of light-blue freckles replaced his once shimmering scales.

Instinctively, Cas kicked his new limbs, propelling himself upward. He broke through the surface with a gasp, a rush of air filling his chest in a way he’d never experienced before.

“Human anatomy,” Cas said, a grin spreading across his face at the sensation, “wild stuff.”

Bobbing up and down amongst the waves, his gaze fell on the dusty hue of the shoreline ahead. Water splashed in every direction as he paddled towards it, finally dragging himself from the sea.

Exhausted, Cas flopped onto the beach, his chest heaving. Fine, golden sand stretched around him as bubbling foam lapped at his new human toes. His eyes fluttered shut as the sun beat down on his back, warming his soaked skin while the crash of waves droned in his ears.

“Oi! Is that kid dead?” a voice called from further down the beach.

Cas' head jerked up to find two humans watching him, streaks of white shooting through their scruffy gray beards. The duo donned ragged clothes and carried a gnarled fishing net between them. Cas smothered the instinctive surge of panic at the sight. No need to be scared of a stupid net anymore now that he was one of them. Human.

“Not dead,” Cas called back. “I appreciate the concern, though!”

As he spoke, Cas attempted to stand up but immediately toppled over, landing face-first in the coarse sand. He coughed, sputtering as he spat out a mouthful of grit.

“Okay, not dead,” one of the fishermen said. “Just drunk.”

“Gods, I wish,” Cas replied.

Once more, he struggled to stand, his new human legs wobbling like Jell-O beneath him. This time, Cas managed a single step before face-planting, rewarding himself with another mouthful of sand. But, hey, small victories, right?

As Cas attempted to rise yet again, the fishermen shuffled away, staring at him like he was some kind of lunatic. Cas gave them a cheerful wave before immediately slamming face-first back into the sand.

After nearly an hour of countless failures, Cas finally got the hang of the whole walking thing. He’d noticed the fishermen disappearing down a stone path connected to the beach, so he decided to follow, his human legs wobbling and jerking at each step. Gradually, the path grew wider, and soon, Cas found himself bursting into a bustling village.

The streets were packed with salespeople pushing carts stacked high with piles of fish, ripe fruits, and jewelry made of seashells. Chattering humans flowed in and out of buildings. A swarm of entertainers played instruments while others juggled and danced through the streets, and passing humans tossed coins their way.

As Cas strode down the road, countless eyes snapped towards him. Looks of disgust and horror came over their features. Humans skittered out of the way wherever he passed, a few women shrieking when he stepped too close. A mother even grabbed her child, frantically covering his eyes as she dragged him away.

Cas’ brows snapped together in confusion. What the hell? He’d just gotten here! What could he have possibly done to upset them this much?

The mer-prince followed the direction of their gazes, glancing down at the strange, dangly thing between his legs that everyone seemed to be staring at.

“Put some damn pants on, freak!” a voice bellowed, followed by similar jeers of agreement from the onlooking crowd.

Cas froze.

Pants?

What the hell were pants?!

***

Cas grimaced, smoothing the wrinkles from the newly acquired burlap sack he’d dug out of a trash pile. He’d ripped a hole for his head and two more for his arms. His long, freckled limbs stuck awkwardly out of the sack. It wasn’t exactly glamorous, but at least it covered the strange, dangly thing as he slipped through the tavern door.

The stench of the burlap sack filled the air, which mixed seamlessly with the stink of the crowd gathered inside. And so, Cas successfully entered the tavern without even a single person screaming for his arrest, a considerable improvement from before.

As Cas made his way deeper inside, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the windows—untamed blue hair, big, unblinking golden eyes, and a spattering of blue freckles where his scales had once been.

Yes, very human indeed! No one would even know the difference.

Cas winked at himself, adjusting the burlap sap with pride before striding into the crowd.

The tavern was packed, every table filled with chattering humans. His gaze caught on a wooden peg leg as it came clomping across the floor. Attached to it was a large, bearded man who teetered towards a table. Numerous scars, tattoos, and eye patches were dispersed among the group seated around it.

Cas chuckled under his breath. All they needed was a parrot and they’d be the most stereotypical group of pirates ever.

He continued through the tavern, taking in the babbling conversations around him. Most were about boring shit he didn’t care about, like the weather or which boats were currently docked in the harbor. Then, suddenly, a single sentence pierced through the cacophony of voices.

“But what will we do if Valentine finds out you stole it?”

Cas’ head shot up instantly, his attention snapping to the speaker, a man standing a few tables back. He was an unusual-looking fellow with no eyebrows and a serpent tattoo that curved around his shaved head, its jaws dipping just above his eye. Tattoo-Head appeared to be speaking to the peg-legged guy from earlier as they both nursed a tankard of ale.

“I didn’t steal it,” Mister Peg Leg said with a scoff. “I just got to it first.”

“But still…” Tattoo-Head’s gaze darted nervously around the tavern. “If he finds out you have it, he’s sure to come after us.”

A smile tugged at Cas’ lips. It seemed the two walking pirate clichés might be surprisingly useful. As he adjusted the sea witch’s necklace, his smile widened into a grin.

The mer-prince elbowed his way through the jam-packed tavern, making his way towards Mister Peg Leg and Tattoo-Head. All of a sudden, a rather rude patron pushed past him, sending Cas slamming directly into someone’s chest. The scent of vanilla perfume overwhelmed his senses instantly.

Cas looked up, his heart skipping a beat as an ice-blue gaze locked with his own. The barmaid he’d just crashed into was tall, dark-haired, gorgeous, and soooo totally Cas' type.

She offered him a perfect smile, the tray of drinks she carried still skillfully balanced on one hand and miraculously unharmed.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” she said with a laugh just as lovely as the rest of her. “Upset the wrong person around here and they might skin off each and every one of those adorable little freckles.”

And with that, she slipped past him, the sharp click of her heels swallowed up by the tavern’s chattering din.

Cas fought the urge to stare after her, furiously shaking his head. Now was not the time. Despite wishing otherwise, gorgeous girls weren’t his priority at the moment.

Cas continued to push through the tavern, at last arriving at his destination. He grinned as he approached, slamming a hand down on the table surrounded by pirates. “Hiya, fellas. You got room for one more?”

Mister Peg Leg’s eyes narrowed. “And who the ‘ell are you?”

“Just a super uninteresting and totally average human traveler,” Cas replied with a smile, casually sliding into the seat beside him. “I’m looking for a friend of mine, and I couldn’t help but hear you mention his name.”

An obnoxious screech sounded as Cas scooched his chair closer. “Valentine,” he proclaimed with a grin.

A hush fell across the table. Mister Peg Leg and his band of walking pirate stereotypes all went deathly still.

After a moment of excruciating silence, Tattoo-Head spoke, his voice quivering ever so slightly. “Yer… friends with Valentine?”

“Yep!” Cas scanned the table, taking in its occupants’s mortified reactions. “You boys wouldn’t happen to know where I can find him, would you?”

“Of course not!” Tattoo-Head snapped. “We’re on the bloody run from hi—”

Mister Peg Leg slammed said peg leg down on his friend’s foot, causing him to yelp.

Once Tattoo Head had been successfully silenced, Mister Peg Leg let out a low huff. “No, we haven’t seen that spoiled brat.”

Cas blinked. “Spoiled brat? Valentine?”

“What else would ya call him?” Mister Peg Leg grumbled, crossing his burly arms. “He goes galavantin’ around like he’s the greatest captain to ever sail the Emerald Sea.” He rolled his eyes. “But we all know he wouldn’t be jack shit if he wasn’t the son of the Pirate King.”

Ooooh, now that was a juicy detail. Cas scooted closer with another obnoxious screech of his chair. “So…” he asked, innocently fluttering his lashes, “Do you know where he might be headed?”

Mister Peg Leg met him with a blank stare. “Nope.”

“How about any ports he frequents?”

“Don’t know.”

“When did you run into him last?”

“None of yer business.”

“Oh come on, mister,” Cas whined. “I’m desperate here!”

“Desperate,” Mister Peg Leg scoffed. “Why the ‘ell would anyone be desperate to find that walkin’ human embodiment of a peacock?”

“Because,” Cas cleared his throat, an idea coming to him, “I’m his abandoned lover!”

The table erupted into an explosion of gasps. And they weren’t the only ones. A hush fell over the crowd, the chatter petering out as heads turned to stare at him.

“You…” Mister Peg Leg choked. “You were Valentine’s lover?!”

“Yep!”

Cas leapt from his chair for the sole purpose of dramatically slamming a foot down on top of the seat. “I gave that man my heart, my body, my soul!”

He let out a dramatic sob, clutching a hand over his heart. “And what did he do? He abandoned me with nothing to my name but this burlap sack!”

Practically every eye in the tavern was now glued to Cas, and the mer-prince was more than happy to give them a show.

Cas sprung onto the chair, letting out an over-the-top wail as he spread his arms wide. “For seven moons I did nothing but weep! My heart—nay, my very being—shattered by the cruelty of a man who only wanted me for my super sexy body!”

He wiped his eyes, exaggerating the motion. “But then a revelation came to me!”

Cas jumped onto the table, which creaked under his weight, his hands flying to his hips. “I am strong and independent. I don't need a stupid man to measure my self-worth, which is why I'm going to find Valentine—and give that bastard a piece of my mind!”

A thunderous explosion of hoots, hollers, and cheers erupted throughout the tavern.

Cas grinned, leaping gracefully from the table. “So, if anyone has any information about Captain Valentine, I would reaaaaaaaally appreciate it!”

This time, the replies came in abundance.

“I heard he ripped out the tongues of an entire enemy crew!” a voice sounded from the back.

“I heard the same, but with their eyeballs!” another called from the bar.

“My sister’s friend’s aunt ran into him up north,” an old man chimed in. “She said a man tried to rob him, and in return, Valentine sliced off every piece of him until he was nothing but a human stick!”

“Yeah, well I heard he disappeared for a year, and when he came back, he’d sold his soul and become unkillable,” a barmaid said. “My friend’s second cousin saw him get run through with a sword and he didn’t bleed even a drop of blood! That’s why everyone calls him the Demon Captain!”

“No!” the man beside her countered with a shake of his head. “Everyone calls him the Devil Captain.”

“You’re both wrong,” a drunken woman slurred. “He’s the Ripper of the Sea.”

Another patron scratched his head. “I always thought he was the Butcher Among the Waves—”

“Who cares what he’s called?” Mister Peg-Leg’s voice boomed through the tavern, causing the crowd to fall silent once more. “Valentine is nothin’ more than a spoiled, selfish, self-absorbed child whose unparalleled arrogance makes him think he’s better than the rest of us.”

“But isn’t he?” a voice called from across the room.

The tavern's attention snapped to the attractive barmaid leaning against the counter. She smirked, making her way towards Mister Peg Leg as she elaborated.

“From what I’ve heard, he’s smart, handsome, dashing, and could take your entire crew in a fight, blindfolded and with one arm tied behind his back.”

Mister Peg Leg scoffed as she stepped in front of him. “Yer lucky yer pretty, lass. Only an idiot would believe such a thing.”

“That may be true,” the woman giggled, absently pulling something from her bodice. “But it’s also true that only an idiot thinks he can steal from Valentine and get away with it.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she shoved a pistol against his temple.

Gasps rippled through the tavern as Mister Peg Leg’s face went ashen, his crew watching in wide-eyed terror.

“Really, Archibald,” the barmaid tutted, their voice dropping an octave, now as deep and smooth as polished marble. “You go around bragging about how well you know me, yet you couldn’t even recognize me in a dress. I’m hurt.”

The barmaid smirked, rubbing the makeup off beneath one eye to reveal a heart-shaped beauty mark.

Everyone in the tavern froze.

“V-Valentine,” Mister Peg Leg choked, looking as if he was about to faint. “I d-didn’t mean to—”

“That’s Captain Valentine to you,” Valentine interrupted, pushing his gun even harder against the trembling man’s forehead. “And now, with all the pleasantries out of the way—I want my fucking map back.”