The morning mist hadn't yet burned off the cove when Kael found himself standing ankle-deep in tidewater, watching two merfolk argue without words.
Vaelen stood motionless, half-submerged, his silvery tail still as a stone beneath the waves. His expression was calm, unreadable, like the sea just before a storm. Just opposite him floated Thalen — vibrant, volatile, the spray of salt clinging to his dark curls as he narrowed his eyes at Kael.
Kael didn't know what he'd done to deserve that look, but he felt it down to his bones.
Behind him, Elli sat hunched on a driftwood log, arms wrapped around her knees, staring at the exchange with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Miri, on the other hand, was busy rearranging small stones into spirals by the shoreline, humming an eerie, ancient tune that made the hair on Kael's neck rise.
"You're trembling," Vaelen finally said, his voice low and smooth, directed not at Kael but at Thalen.
Thalen scoffed. "He reeks of land."
That wasn't quite the insult Kael thought it might be, but it still stung. "I bathed, for the record."
Thalen tilted his head. "And yet the stink of destiny lingers."
Kael blinked. "...What?"
Vaelen gave Thalen a tired look. "He means the curse. You bear its weight more strongly now. Lyra must've let her guard down."
Kael didn't have time to ask what that meant before a faint splash behind him made him turn. Lyra.
She surfaced like a dream—wet hair slicked back, eyes sharp. Her gaze flicked over the gathering, then settled on Kael with something unreadable.
"This a council meeting or are you all just bored without me?"
"We were discussing Kael's scent," Thalen said, deadpan.
Lyra raised a brow. "And yet no one's gagging. Interesting."
The tension broke — slightly. Kael felt the tightness in his chest loosen, though his hands still curled instinctively into fists.
Elli stood now, edging closer to Lyra but keeping her gaze on Kael. "He talks to the sea like he owns it. Doesn't flinch when things aren't... right."
"You mean like you do when something breathes under the sand?" Kael replied, a little more sharply than intended.
Her face reddened. Lyra intervened with a small wave of her hand. "Everyone relax. We're not about to eat each other."
"Speak for yourself," Thalen muttered.
Vaelen turned to Lyra. "The tide's shifting. There's a pull—more than before. Whatever you two did... it's resonating."
Kael's ears burned. "We kissed. That's it."
Miri's voice drifted in like a breeze. "It wasn't just a kiss."
Everyone turned. The spiral she'd been making had shifted subtly, the stones glowing faintly.
Lyra frowned. "What do you mean?"
Miri looked up at them, her eyes too old for her face. "He took a piece of you when he did it. And you took a piece of him."
Thalen hissed under his breath. "She speaks like the Oracle."
Vaelen's gaze sharpened. "No. She isn't the Oracle. But she's... touched."
Kael exhaled sharply. "Touched how?"
Miri only smiled.
—
Later that afternoon, Kael walked with Lyra along the tide pools. They spoke little. The weight of the morning's confrontation sat heavy on them both.
"Do you believe her?" Kael asked finally. "Miri, I mean."
Lyra shrugged, her bare shoulders catching sunlight. "Magic talks. Sometimes through people. Sometimes through rocks. Doesn't mean it always makes sense."
Kael nodded, then added, "Do you regret it? The kiss?"
She didn't answer at first. Then:
"I regret how easy it was."
He stopped walking. "Easy?"
"It shouldn't be easy to want something you can't have," she said. Her voice was quieter now, bitter. "But it was."
Kael reached for her hand, brushing against her webbed fingers. She let him.
"Then maybe we're both cursed, Lyra. Not just by magic, but by whatever this is."
She looked at him, and for a long time, neither of them spoke.
Until, without warning, the wind picked up.
"Storm?" Kael asked.
Lyra frowned. "No. This is something else."
From the horizon, a strange shimmer pulsed in the waves.
Vaelen and Thalen reappeared moments later, drawn by the same instinct. Miri stood already at the cove's edge, hair whipping around her face. Elli held tightly to the Traveler's cloak, both of them pale.
"Something's coming," Thalen said, eyes wide.
"No," Miri whispered, her voice cracking. "It's here."
The sea cracked like glass. A ripple of force surged inland, knocking Kael to his knees. Lyra screamed — not in fear, but in pain.
A figure emerged from the shimmer. Not a merman. Not anything they recognized.
It wore the ocean like a cloak, shadows curling where fins should be. Its face was blank, but its presence felt ancient, wrong.
Kael scrambled up, shielding Lyra with his body. "What is that?"
Miri answered, voice distant. "It's the echo of the original curse."
The being turned its gaze on Kael. The curse inside him roared.
Lyra pushed him back. "Run."
"No. Not without you."
Cracks splintered through the sand. The world tilted.
Vaelen and Thalen flanked Lyra, tails coiled, ready to fight. Miri stood perfectly still, her spiral of stones now a glowing sigil.
The creature raised a hand. The spiral flashed.
It vanished.
Silence fell.
Kael helped Lyra to her feet. "Are you okay?"
She didn't answer. She was staring at Miri.
Miri, who now bled from one eye. Who smiled too calmly.
"You didn't ask where I got the charm I gave you," she said softly.
Kael's heart thudded. "Where?"
She turned to him, eyes full of knowing.
"From the bottom of the sea. Where the curse was born."
—