Chapter Text
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼
“Hey!” I yelled. Watching her white hair fly with the wind.
I had thought that Jett would at least try and cover her earphones by letting her hair down. It would sell her out completely, with the warm air and the rising temperature making any person wish they had their hair up in a bun — even the bald ones.
But with a great deal of audacity, or apathy, she didn’t. And every single time she failed to hear me, I got a step closer to pushing that ladder with Jett and her earphones, the decorations, and everything else into the ground.
“Put that fucken’ flag higher, dude! That ain’t funny! We’ve been doin’ this for years!”
Terrible. Absolutely Terrible.
Efia, on the other hand, seemed much more predisposed to helping than Jett was.
Turning to face her, I met the taller woman’s sympathetic gaze. Efia ‘Astra’(as we called her) Danso smiled sheepishly from the other ladder, tying down the flag to the tall wooden poles that served as an entrance for the beach.
Two weeks.
I’ve spent two weeks creating that flag — a welcome sign for the festivals.
Two weeks working like a blasted cur damn dog for someone else to come around, and undo it all by refusing to be helpful. Unbelievable.
Astra sighed. Defeated.
“Ay,” She snapped her fingers at Jett’s direction. Somehow, that worked. “Nua, pay attention, yeah? You know how our little miengu gets on summertime. Make stuff easy for ‘em, Jett!”
Jett rolled her eyes as her cheeks puffed with air. She let out in a sharp sigh as a pout took over her lips. Downed, stressed — Jett’s sadness had been clear to us from the moment she stepped out to her work. Yet, in a moment’s worth, her gaze softened as our eyes met.
Hurt. Jett was hurt. I frowned.
“Sorry, Clove,” She started. “Got my head somewhere else right now, I think.”
Crossing my arms, it took me a small sigh of my own to muster the energy to push aside the stress of being overworked under the summer sun. The season, in all of its beauty, had a way of shifting the tides of my heart — and the reasoning always escaped me, no matter how much I looked for an answer.
Astra’s gaze took me right away from my own mind. With a soft nodding and tender eyes, it was through her gaze that Efia’s care appeared. Wordlessly and with just a look, she told me: “Don’t be too harsh on her, Clove.”
“Aight. What’s up? You do seem pretty under the weather, yeah.” I asked.
Jett pouted for a moment, struggling to speak the words that clogged her mind and throat.
“Homesick,” She said, voice barely above a whisper. “And mom even sent me a letter the other day. We still sometimes talk, but… You know how she can be with tech sometimes—”
Oh. That. Yeah. I should’ve seen this from a mile away.
“What’d she say?” My voice came through, half-curious, half bitterly accepting of the answer that I knew I’d most likely get.
“The typical,” Jett said shakily. “More blaming. More gaslight. Said she’d forgive me and we’d move on if I got back to Korea, but I know better than to believe it. She’d just use me for unpaid labor again.”
I nodded, unsure what to say— but honestly, what could even be spoken at that point?
Jett’s tale wasn’t a mystery ready to be solved — matter of fact, the puzzle pieces of her past had been organized far before her arrival. In Eilean — in a land as peaceful and mundane as it had always been — rumors spread as fast as the sound of the billowing waves in the bay.
In a town this small, with only an outdated theater, an empty park, and people making their livelihoods out of folklore of mermaids and artistry, the richness that Eilean boasted was that of a community that didn’t have much to lose other than the connections.
That is to say: we took well to visitors and “outsiders”.
Tales say that from the moment the newcomers step into the ocean, their spirit is mirrored in The Sage’s Tears. Elders say that she — the ocean, The Sage — can see through their entire being and decide whether the waves will take them away, or if they’ll be one of us, wherever they go.
Jett sniffed, holding back the tears. Her face was red, and she had a pout as if she was angry with the world, and herself.
“I don’t wanna go back,” Jett sobbed meekly, trying hard to cover the escaping tears. “This is my home. If I go back, I won’t be happy again.”
I knew that. It was understandable.
In Korea, the fearless, determined, and passionate guitarist of the Blue Wave Mermaids would be gone. Forever and ever. Her mother would probably absorb every trace of uniqueness and joy from her daughter, the damned woman.
“Hey,” I spoke before the words even registered in my brain. “You have the letter on ya?”
I looked up to the flag, then back at the girl, then back to the flag again. It was crooked. Astra gave me another look, confused.
“I-I do.”
“Great. Can I have it?”
Jett, in her swift athleticism, jumped down and found the same grounding as me in a minute.
She shoved a hand in her shorts’ pockets. Shuffling, before retrieving a folded envelope.
“Here.” The white-haired woman placed it in my hands. “You can have it, or something,” Jett sighed heavily. “I won’t keep this one.”
I opened the envelope swiftly. The delicate baby blue paper was contrasted with the handwriting that became progressively more erratic the more I watched it unfold. It was entirely in Korean — a language I didn’t understand. Even then, it wouldn’t take a genius to know it was vile.
I nodded.
“Ye. You really won’t be keepin’ this.” I asserted. “Go to the Inn, aye? Take a kip, eat sumthin. We’ll meet there and we can talk more ‘bout it and get ready for tonight’s big show later.” Jett’s eyes lit up, but just barely. Perhaps that’s what she had been wanting all along — a rest. A moment’s worth of respite from the storm raging inside her head and, no matter how busy things get at this time of the year… Yes, I preferred to give her the rest she needed.
“Really? You sure?” She said, her voice perking up already. She sounded on the verge of tears again, but now, relieved. She wouldn’t have to wait until sundown to let all of her anguish flow.
“Yeah, yeah. I know what it is like.” I said. The words hung heavily in the wind. Realistically — I didn’t, but somehow, her pain was one I was incredibly familiar with.
“You need to take it easy. Buuuut you’re gonna repay me— No more delayin’ our sessions, you hear me?! Everyone’s been excited for it, jus’ gimme the damn character sheet already!”
Jett let out a small, genuine smile. It was shy, meek, breathy, but it was there nonetheless. Her small hops guided her toward me quicker than I could avoid — because with the way the coy smile turned into a mischievous grin as her leaps grew faster, bringing the planning woman closer to me — I knew exactly what she ought to do.
Yet, for the first time, I didn't fight back, just simply accepting my fate as a victim of a bear hug that put all of the misplaced bones in my back right where they should be. Jett’s characteristic greetings and goodbye gift.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck— ouch, okay, das enough! This shit hurts, Jett!” I said, halfway between hugging her back and trying to find air in my lungs to breathe.
“Thank you, Clove! I’ll make the sheet, just you wait! My little guy’s gonna beat everyone’s asses, you bet!” Jett exclaimed, turning on the heels of her feet; the glow dimming as the reality of her family’s situation sank in again. Yet, this time, she could properly feel it, register it until sundown. If not, then I’m sure the shredding of the guitar would surely calm her nerves at the festival.
I watched, for a few minutes, as Jett’s body slowly grew smaller and smaller as she made her way toward the hostel. Hugging her arms, the few passersby stopped to greet the woman or offered her a warm greeting before heading their different ways.
Admittedly, Jett was famous, just like the group of tight-knit friends who took over the Blue Wave Mermaid Hostel was. A bunch of band kids getting a couple thousand views on Shelltube made us certified sirencore royalty with a blue seal of approval and everything.
I was also known. For better or for worse, being the child of a man who spoke to everyone under the sun, and owned the most profitable Hostel around (the only one), had given me the name of “Harbor’s kid” before the band even began.
For the worse, at the ripe age of eleven, I damned that popularity the moment the news of my first crush on a random boy living on the faraway lighthouse reached my father's ear before I myself even got home.
For better, after the boy disappeared with the waves — for some reason, I don’t know until this day— I held tight to it. It wasn’t “fame”, per se, but it was what made the few teens in Eilean listen to our releases with… honestly? A scary, scary devotion.
But it was good.
Who knows? Maybe someday the Blue Wave Mermaids — creative name, I know, but it was much better than Jamie’s input either way — would match BABYMETAL’s fame, or maybe we could perform around the world like those fancy K-pop groups.
All thanks to the middle schoolers obsessed with ecobags, eyeliner, and our local music.
The Hostel and the band were my life and my family’s work. Not by blood or by DNA, but the spirit of festivities and joy ran through every the Batra family. So more than any other day in the year, the day of the Ceol Mara celebration was to be expected, wanted, and taken care of.
I sighed, content. Jett was no longer on the horizon, hopefully already reaching home. I smiled, turning around…
…Only to be met by Astra’s gaze, who smiled playfully. I knew that grin.
“What?” I asked, suspicious.
“Nothing, nothing, chale! Just happy to see that the little pink shark is losing some of its bite! Haha!” She smiled, turning back to make some other ties around the pole.
“Oh. Very funny, Astra,” In between pants as I launched for the wooden ladder, I responded. “I ain’t losing none of my bite. She jus’ needs rest, babe. Imma be real tough with all of you this summer, just you wait!”
Astra smiled teasingly, and only by a heartbeat did I see the intention hidden behind the woman’s eyes; her sharp glance was a hint that I didn’t even have time to catch before she spoke again.
“Oh, yeah? If you are half as harsh on Lockie as you are on us, then I’ll believe you, Ha!—”
“Co-UGH!” Fuck, that cough hurt. “W-What do you mean Lockie?!” I panicked, turning to face the woman’s gaze. “I’m harsh on all of you equally!... D-Don’t bring her into this! She just— She just has a lot more on her plate, Astra! Seriously, I—”
Okay. Maybe that was a terrible decision— rambling on and on, but come on! What else should I have done?! Maybe it is the perfect way to get into my senses, to push my buttons— the perfect way only Astra and her incredibly attentive… everything could tell! But what else could I have done?!
Probably I should have shut the fuck up, that’s what. Blank mind, red face — the words that came out of my mouth hardly registered, and I had… A slight impression that everything which consumed my mind, had slid through my veins and found an end to its trajectory on my tongue like a water slide with an open faucet.
“S-She has like… A thousand jobs!” Two.
“E-Every time I lo-look at the beach, she’s like saving some random kid!” No, not at all. There are barely any children in Eilean, and the ones who live here know perfectly how to swim.
“S-She never slacks off!” Iselin, in fact, does. Quite a bit, my reasoning might add— For I have seen it: her dips into the ocean mid-workday.
“S-She’s a surfer!” She’s not. Iselin tried once, failed miserably, but I only really paid attention when she came out of the water and the sunlight glistered on the perfectly-shaped muscles in her arms and abdomen, matched with a bellybutton piercing and all.
“She had like— a thousand hobbies!” That was true though. Embroidery, perfectly good at poker and card games, a miniature artist, and sometimes, even a yoga instructor. “I couldn’t overwork her in g-good consciousness when she already deals—”
Like an idiot, as I rambled, my eyes tried to find anywhere else to look but at Astra’s eyes. That’s what made me — thankfully — look at the rapidly approaching figure of a blond woman walking in our direction. I slapped my mouth shut.
“What are you guys talking about?”
“Khh—koff!” My throat would get sore one of these days if I kept doing this.
Innocently, the question was posed. Relaxed, but not too much. Firmly like someone on a break from their job who decided to check in on their pals.
And that voice- so, so earnestly curious, was enough for me to stumble on the ladder and nearly fall over, clutching to the wooden pole like a lifeboat on open sea. Even then, I was sure- completely sure I'd fall on the sand, be done for, break the only leg I had— and if the gods were nice- even die — but that wasn’t what happened at all. Instead, someone else, someone I was painfully aware of who it was, held the ladder firmly.
I looked down just as she looked up. Wet golden hair sticking to her face and body as if she had just arrived from diving into the ocean — and I froze, moving my head to the side so, so fast I got whiplash and possibly a headache.
“Clove, be careful!” She yelled. “If you fall and break your leg, Harbor’s gonna break the organic one too!” Iselin said, a playful smile crossing her firm features — her words, together with her face, told me that the joke wasn’t nearly as impossible to happen as it sounded. Father would, in fact, kill me.
I didn’t respond at first. I didn’t have time to respond, actually.
“Bwa-HAHAHAH!” Astra started to laugh, and in the next moment, she was the one nearly falling over, having to be rescued by the person on the ground just as I had been while she tried to control herself and the laugh attacks.
“Seriously— What’s up with you two?!”
“Ah, girl—” Astra wheezed. “Good to see you again, Iselin.”
“Y-Yea, yea, yea, p-pretty good to see you, Lo- Iselin, yeah!” I spoke, biting my tongue three- no, four times while trying to say. Seriously— what the fuck?! I thought these issues were gone when I was, like, ten!
It was all Harbor’s fault! That damned bampot! These issues wouldn’t have stayed if he had taken me to a speech therapist at five, or four, not TEN YEARS OLD. I was already too old!
Suddenly, the task of fixing the flag was much more entertaining than looking down. She was eyecandy- that’s for damn sure, but to be caught staring was to fall down the ladder willingly this time.
“I see the preparations in full swing. Lots of tourists today, honestly, even more than in past years… Did you change anything?” Iselin asked, her gaze burning on me as I desperately tried to get out of her sight, somehow, but being up in the air, tying a knot so tightly it made my hands burn, didn’t serve as the best place to find coverage.
Astra giggled. “Yeah, yeah. Miengu over there added some new attractions to the list,” She said, pointing at me, and the headache worsened immediately due to the turn of my head, resembling a contortionist at best— and an owl on a can of monster and cocaine, at worst— the latter was more likely.
“A-Astra, don’t you dare!—” I tried to whisper to her.
“The beach’s gonna open for performances tonight before the Ceilidh! So like, every half-assed band you see ‘round here’s gonna show their tunes!” She said with a smile, as if she didn’t belong to a Half-assed band herself.
“A-Astra! Seriously- fuck you!—”
“Oh. That’s cool. Are you gonna perform too, Clove?”
I froze. “Oh- nonononononononono— W-What makes you think w-wee lil’ ol’ me would— s-serve for that, yeah? That’s… That’s crazy, Iselin! I ain’t got stuff for that!”
“Well, you are the leader of the Mermaids. I thought you and the others might join in.” Iselin responded. I could see the confusion in her eyes- a mix of that and curiosity, which grew nearly into disappointment, as if she actually expected the Blue Wave Mermaids to perform tonight.
Fuck.
“Well, they are!” Astra revealed, not failing to smile, seeing me shift from strawberry-red to wine-red and from bear-angry to lion-angry. “They’re gonna be the last ones. Something about putting up a show, right, Clove?”
“I’m gonna kill you so much—” I whispered. “YEAAAH, I mean- I-It ain’t nuthin’ big, yeah? So I didn’t even consider it!”
“Nothing big? Seriously? I bet it’s gonna be cool. You always do some really good performances whenever there’s a festival,” Wait, WHAT?! “I’ll be there— It’ll be a good rest after… whatever today was.”
What?
What.
Where... Do I even begin?...
SHE WANTS TO SEE ME?! US? SHE THINKS OUR CONCERTS ARE COOL?!
I exhaled — steam leaving my nostrils, a wide, stupid smile crossing my face as I stared ahead, not blinking once— that was until a fly came over and the fear of it landing in my eyes forced me to blink.
Stay calm, Ollie. Act cool. Cool, cool, cool.
“Y-You’re welcome to see u-us—” Fuck. That started horribly. “— What… Uhh, did something happen? On the beach… yeah, on- on the beach you work at! What’s up?”
Seriously, now- jumping was beginning to sound like an amazing idea.
Iselin didn’t even bat an eyelash at my nervousness. I didn’t know if she didn’t care or if she had gotten used to it, but the blonde woman didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable by it— and I could feel it. The warmth, the strength— my heart beating as if it pumped enough blood in my systems for the next five years.
“Everyone’s complaining about seeing something swimming in the water. A kid even said that a… white-haired man threw an arrow at his beach ball. I tried to look for him, but I couldn’t really find anyone who fit the description.”
I blinked, and suddenly, the red, annoying warmth that crossed my cheeks and lips wasn’t born out of embarrassment, but rather, worry and a sudden spurge of anger at the mention of a certain word:
‘Arrow. ’
Jaaaamie… Seriously?! Seriously Phoenix?!
One thing about me— Wee ol’ me:
I don’t play in business.
I mean- I do, way too much actually— but I get things flawlessly right. Not messy, clean. And that was probably one of the top ten reasons why my friends hated me, but it didn’t matter right now.
Whatever criticism toward my perfectionism would be cast aside, forgotten, just like how the nervousness of being in Iselin’s divine presence faded away in seconds. Nothing got me as dedicated, heated, and inspired as the Céol Mara. And to hear that someone fiddled with the games before nighttime made my heart skip a beat in frustration and, possibly, a vein to pop in my head.
It was concerning.
“Seriously?! I thought I had told Jamie to close the beach off till sundown, goddamit!” I yelled. Holding on to the loose rope that hung from the side of the pole after the knot was tied, all it took was a small leap and an impulse to catch the item and swing forward, coming down to the floor with a landing that would’ve taken much longer had I done it with the ladder.
I sighed, not bothering to say my goodbyes to the pair of girls as they were left behind. The only words I heard were Iselin’s unimpressed commentaries.
“Oh, he’s dead.”
“Yeah. Dead as dead can be.” Astra repeated with a satisfied hum.
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼
The walk toward the bay was uneventful. People carried decorations — silks, flags, fishing rods, fairy lights, and fake gemstones as the ground for the games was prepared. From the gates to the beach that wrapped around the small cliff upon which the city above was built, the walk wasn’t far- yet it stretched for a few minutes as I reached toward the actual grounds where the festival would take place.
Half-running, half-walking. Not slow enough to waste time, not fast enough to be stopped by worried people. Just the right pace and a face serious enough to let people know I wasn’t playing.
Bonfires were prepared, a stage was placed, and traditional food stands were built. Everywhere, together with the wood, silk, and flowers, it was all paired up with jewelry and fake animal fur, with large mahogany letters that writing: “Selkie’s Stage” above the rostrum, and someone had taken their liberty to place a seal plushie on a stool in front of the microphone.
Wooden poles were stuck to the ground more firmly. They were always there — rotting from the inside, filled with barnacles and saltwater, yet each year — the inhabitants snuck out the fairy lights from dusty old boxes like it was Christmas Eve and wrapped them around the same poles over and over again, making the sun-kissed beach glister with glass pearls long before the lights were on.
And far away, the section belonging to the games was laid out. A spot was left open for the Ceilidh after the concerts, yet the space was shared between multiple games — caber-toss, seashell stride, tug o’ war, dancing competitions, and archery — with the latter being the most important for the burning inquiry in my mind.
I didn’t distrust anyone from Eilean— far from it. To live here was to acknowledge that the Céol Mara was important to us all, equally.
Varun — god bless his heart, my father — carried pictures of my costumes on the Céol Mara since I was found and started to take part in it. It didn’t matter if I was a month or eleven years of age — each year the fridge in our house got a small picture of him and me side by side, and the tartan I wore grew more opulent with each year.
Varun — Or Harbor — went out of his way for the celebration. He wrote down recipes from his hometown to cook in the food stands, and shared songs that got the people dancing around the campfires for hours.
And honestly? No one really cared if the moves were completely coordinated or not, or if dancing kathak while listening to Pitbull was odd. It was fun— and it was the essence of the festival.
To take part in Céol Mara was to appreciate freedom. That’s why I had grown so insistent in making sure everything went according to plan. Perfect, with no issues.
I wanted the newcomers who stopped by our small town to take part in the customs we built. I didn’t hold any grudges, I couldn’t bring myself to hate whoever stole the bow, nor could I possibly blame them for not understanding how the festival worked right away.
Matter of fact — I even shared the sentiment of being so excited to see a bow and an arrow that I couldn’t wait until sundown; but we needed to find it right away, and whoever let that disaster happen in the first place would be the one to help me fix the mess.
“JAMIE A—DE—YIMI!” I yelled out loud the moment I reached the games’ section. I didn’t care if I hadn’t found him, because the yell served to catch the attention even of the people high above the cliff. I could see a few faces wincing — and I could only wish they hoped not to be in Jamie’s shoes. That they’d take this as a lesson to not mess up.
Only a few seconds passed before I could hear a sound. Splashing, coming from the water, followed by words.
“I’m here, I’m here!” Jamie announced, and I turned to face him right away. His hair, wrapped in half-red, half-brown locks, looked messy — which was new for him — and the expression laid in his face told me right away he was far too preoccupied with something else to care about his looks at the moment.
“Jamie!” I called out to him again, stomping toward the water and stopping a few feet behind him. “What yer lookin’ at down there?! A bloke just stole one of our bows and popped one of them lad’s beach balls! Made me look stupid right in front of Lockie, for god’s sake—”
I watched, letting him in on a piece of my mind as I spoke. I watched as his attention was taken from the water toward me with a bewildered expression, his face shifting to grow even more confused with each word I let on.
“No, no, no, that’s actually impossible—” He said. “— I was there jus’ a minute ago. I knew you’d get worked up if some’ing went wrong so I’ve been checking and counting the bows all morning!” He said as he gesticulated toward the small pillars where the bows lay atop.
Decorated with seashells, beige strings, and white plastic bathed in marble textures and ink, six bows stood atop their pillars just waiting to be used later that day; with a large, clean target in front and other ones beside it, a few hanging from trees and rocks and others were just bottles and scrap prepared to be shot at. Not only did nothing seem out of the ordinary, but no bow was missing.
“Well, that’s weird,” I commented. “Who’d bring a bow to the beach then?”
“Beats me. You sure Lockie wasn’t just prankin’ you?”
“No-no, no way! You know how Lockie’s like, she’s not really fond of pranks like that—”
“Yeah. Girl would know better than to ruffle your feathers at this time of year,” He laughed heartily at his own jokes. “Chill out, butterfly, yeah? Bet you it’s just some weird kid walking ‘round with those sticky plastic bows. Not too hard to pop a ball with those.”
I sighed audibly. The harsh seaside winds blew the anxiety away, the negative feelings melting off my fingertips as a trace of hesitation, insecurity, was left behind inside my chest.
Was it really only a plastic bow?
Nevertheless, if it was sharp enough — somehow, even with the rubber arrows — it’d still be worth investigating. Telling Liam or something, even if…
“We should probably check it out, though” I said. “Could be dangerous if it has enough force to pop a ball.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Ain’t Liam in charge of the festival’s guards or something?” Phoenix responded, as I turned in the heels of my feet to return to the start of the beach, maybe ask for Iselin’s opinions, and then find Liam… Somewhere.
“Yeah. That old dog is always hammerin’ in on our heads to be safe and all that. He should take it pretty seriously, though.”
Jamie nodded beside me. “What were you lookin’ in the water anyways?” He raised an eyebrow at my question, before his face shifted into one of acknowledgement, as if he had finally remembered something important.
“Ah yeah, I was gunna tell you ‘bout that,” Which seemed to be the case. “Saw something splashin’ in the wa’er over there. A pretty big fish if you’d ask me. I caught a glimpse of the thing’s color, it was green, I think.”
“Green? That’s… a new one… Whatever, somethin’ else to nag Liam ‘bout, then.”
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼
“This is going horribly.”
Yes, I know, you have told me this three times since we lost sight of The Captain.
“Chin up, your highness,” I said, sighing. Bubbles floated before me at the action. Concentrated, calm, but truthfully- a little bit worried, yes, I told him of a tranquility which I myself struggled to find.
“I’m alright,” He said, not expressing much emotion. “Just stating a fact. It’d be wiser for mother to raise the scales of such… expeditions, even more so if I’m meant to go together from now on.”
I laughed heartily at that. Limestone reef rocks stood before us, a tall hideaway from the prying eyes of those on the surface. Our inspection — much to my carelessness — took us too close to the shore, and now, as the man in fiery braids was accompanied by someone else as they scanned the water, it became clear to us that to take cover was necessary. Their voices were muffled by the sound of the water, the raging waves, and the underwater world that lay below the surface.
“Perhaps, your highness— If it makes you more comfortable, then… Well, I guess it’d be a good idea to make the battalion larger to accommodate your needs, Prince.” I commented, the irony of the royal’s words not lost on me. I wanted to bite my tongue, crack a joke about the lack of funding, about the Chancellor’s consistent efforts to dismantle the expeditions, even going as far as to suggest the prince himself to partake in such dangerous, unsuccessful missions.
However, I didn’t, and Prince Iso kept his thoughts and first impressions about me — whatever these may be. He’s not very expressive, albeit oddly talkative — instead of making myself an enemy of the crown at barely twenty years of age.
Honestly, if anything, I shouldn’t even be here.
“Why are the teams so small, though? Say, Morí—”
“Marín.”
“Yes, Marín. Say, if I got caught by the humans, wouldn't it be easier to rescue me in case the team deployed was larger?”
I chuckled. “Prince, if you got caught, the entire kingdom would mobilize to find you. But yeah, I kinda…” I cleared my throat. “I understand your concern, I do agree.”
Prince Iso hummed.
“Speak freely with me,” He said, almost commanding. “Sova isn’t nearby. You don’t need to check proper etiquette every time you ought to respond to what I say… At least not while he’s away.”
I turned around to face him. “Are you sure, your highness?” I choked the words out, the strangers on the surface left forgotten for a moment.
Prince Iso nodded. His violet eyes scanned me momentarily, deadpanning. His voice contrasted with his expression… or better yet, lack thereof.
“Yes,” He started, stopping to think for a moment. “We are companions on the battlefield now, aren’t we? It’d be best to leave… those more theoretical, social differences at the Kingdom’s gates whenever we are to leave.”
Mouth hanging agape, I tried to follow his reasoning— Iso didn’t give me much of a window to answer.
“It is an important thing on the battlefield: synchronization. If we are meant to go through hardship beside one another, I must understand the way your mind works.”
I blinked once- then twice. His gaze never escaped mine, and we swam there momentarily, both looking at each other. Me, bathed in confusion over… having the only remaining heir to the throne essentially asking me: “Can we be friends while we do this whole mission thing?”, and the other awaiting patiently for an answer as if Iso couldn’t understand or, either, didn’t care for the pressure that such a question posed.
“H-Huh… Alright. Sure, sure then.” I said, still in shock.
“Alright,” Iso hummed. “Sorry about that.”
“About what?”
“You sound scared.”
“I mean, I am— not that it is a bad thing to… Travel with you, it’s just that going on a first-name basis with the prince of the kingdom I live in wasn’t exactly my plan for today” I shrugged. ‘Especially not with the prince who is overly protected inside high castle walls, by a thousand soldiers, and a sovereign mother, all after the loss of his sister.’ I wanted to add. I didn’t.
Traveling with Prince Iso was to acknowledge that a single cut on his perfectly shaped, soft, and shiny lilac scales was to receive a death sentence. I could only hope that Iso himself wasn’t as soft.
“I see,” His eyes sharpened, as if my worry was a calculation he hadn’t yet been presented to, and didn’t know the answer to. He muttered a low ‘interesting…’ before speaking up again. “I can’t stress enough you can call me however you’d like.”
“It’s… fine. You can drop the… formal speech too, I mean, I’m no one— it’s beyond me why you’re treating me so cordially.”
“Manners,” He responded nearly immediately. “And also because I… Never mind.”
I sighed. “You… don’t know how to speak any other way?”
Iso shifted his gaze to a coral beside us, planted on a limestone as a few fish and crustaceans swam beside it. Then, his eyes looked up.
“The humans have left. Worry about that.” Right.
For a moment, I filled my cheeks with water, letting go of it in another. A small ritual of courage — being a royal guard wasn’t a job that fully dawned on me yet, let alone one I had grown used to like Captain Sova had. Courage failed me at the smallest of tasks.
Coming to this expedition, we were told that he’d be beside us for the entirety of the trip, guarding us — for it was necessary that the highest-ranking official had to accompany the prince and ensure his safety, but then…
He insisted we’d separate, cover more water like this, find a safe spot, transform, then walk the land as we searched.
What we didn’t account for was that every place on this… Sage-blessed land was filled to the brim with humans! Every centimeter, they’d roam the beach holding small… water drops with little, shining golden things inside, held by a weird kind of kelp. Or then they’d carry big seashells, even bigger pieces of rocks and marble, and just… decorate the beach. It seemed like some sort of ritual, a festival.
I swam up in the first burst of courage I had. Fast, maybe even too fast, not stopping to see the look on Iso’s face as my head surfaced to see…
The man from before. Dark-skinned, tall, muscular with fiery-red locks. I blinked twice. Comparing him to the person who stood beside him, I could barely see them.
They were much shorter, smaller, and— I gasped.
“What is it?” Prince Iso asked. “What did you see?” Nearly hopeful, Iso came closer and distracted me from the drifting figure.
I missed his approaching figure, not answering right away. I swam faster as, maybe unprofessionally so, the prince was left to follow my bubbles. I was faster, more focused, and hiding behind the wooden logs of a structure built above the water, I watched the pair walk further from where I was.
Black, short hair drifting to rose. Pale skin, small complexion, and a swimsuit hiding underneath a small shirt and big…
I forgot what those were called. For the legs. Above the… uhh… the joint. Yes, that.
I watched as they walked away.
I blinked once, then twice.
I didn’t try to hide when they turned around and our gazes met.