"It always smells like something's about to change when the air tastes like lightning."
Kael had never known silence like this.
The forest didn't breathe. The wind didn't rustle. Even the sea, once ever murmuring, now held its tongue. The air cracked and buzzed with static as he stood, eyes pinned to the shimmer of scales peeking from the tall grass. Lightning split the sky again, briefly illuminating the delicate web of rain trailing down Lyra's face.
She didn't move.
He wasn't sure she was breathing.
Kael rushed to her side, heart thundering louder than the storm above. "Lyra?"
Her eyes fluttered open, dazed, glowing faintly like deep-sea lanterns. "Told you... the sky has a temper."
"You almost got struck by it!" he snapped, but there was panic behind his voice, not anger.
"I was bored," she mumbled, wincing as he touched her shoulder. "Now I'm not."
He let out a shaky breath, water streaking down his face and hair. It could've been rain. Or something else.
---
They found shelter beneath the overhang of a craggy cliff. The storm raged on, but the rocks gave them a temporary sanctuary. Kael used his cloak to shield Lyra, wringing it dry while she lay sprawled on her stomach, tail twitching slightly.
"I'm not some broken thing," she said without looking at him. "You don't have to... care."
"I know you're not broken," he murmured, crouching beside her. "But I still care."
Her fingers brushed the rock. "Pity isn't affection."
"And you're not someone I pity," he said, firmly now.
She turned her head slightly, her golden-split eyes narrowed in the dark. "Then what am I, landboy?"
He didn't answer. Not because he didn't know—but because he did.
---
The storm passed like a curtain being drawn. In its wake came dawn—gray and gold, heavy with dew.
They traveled down the slope toward the shore again, neither speaking much. Kael occasionally glanced at her, but Lyra seemed lost in her own thoughts, tail dragging with a little less flourish than usual.
Then came the voice.
"Is that... the prince?"
A small girl, no older than thirteen, stood among the reeds, holding a crooked staff topped with seashells and feathers. Her cloak was too large, her eyes too wide for her face.
Kael stopped cold. "You—how did you find us?"
"I followed the lightning." Her grin was strange, crooked but not unkind. "It always leads somewhere interesting."
Lyra squinted at the girl. "You're not a villager."
"No," she said simply, stepping forward. "I'm Elli. I'm from the Whispering Dunes."
Kael's brow creased. "That's weeks from here."
"Not if you know how to move between," Elli said cryptically. "But I came for the mermaid. The one who's cursed."
Lyra stiffened.
"Who told you about me?"
"I heard it in a dream," Elli said, tapping her staff. "The kind of dream that doesn't belong to me."
Kael instinctively moved in front of Lyra, but she stepped past him, her curiosity piqued despite herself.
"You speak riddles, girl."
"They're not riddles if you're listening right."
---
Back at the cliffside shelter, Elli brewed something over a tiny fire—crab shells, violet petals, and the sap of a pale root.
"You dreamwalk?" Lyra asked, watching the mixture bubble.
"I listen while others sleep."
Kael crossed his arms. "And what did you hear that led you here?"
"A story about a mermaid who's tired of being watched. And a prince who stopped running." Elli looked at them both in turn. "One of you needs to choose. Or you'll both end up chained."
"Chained?" Kael echoed.
"To the wrong endings."
Lyra laughed bitterly. "Every ending I've had was wrong."
---
That night, Kael stood near the cliff's edge while Lyra floated lazily in a tide pool, the moonlight turning her scales to pearl.
"She's weird," he said.
"She's not lying," Lyra replied.
Kael glanced at her. "You believe her?"
"I believe in strange things. I am one."
Silence again.
Then, softly: "Do you want this curse broken, Lyra?"
She hesitated. "I want... to want it. But if it means losing you, maybe I'd rather keep it."
His breath caught.
She smirked at his silence. "Bored out of my scales, and suddenly you're the only interesting thing left."
---
The next morning brought another surprise.
A shadow on the sea. A fin that didn't belong to Lyra. A flicker of movement far too fast.
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "He's here."
"Who?" Kael asked.
"The one I've avoided for centuries." Her voice dropped. "A rival. Another cursed creature. He wants what I have."
"And what's that?"
She turned to Kael, and her voice came out like the wind off a storm. "You."
---
"Even cursed things learn how to crave."