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His room was dark, despite the bioluminescent moss that lined his walls glowing with soft green and blue light. But it was fine: with how he was feeling, he was glad for the gloom.
He pulled at his hair – sharp, spikey – and thought of Kappa’s hands running through it as they had mere hours ago.
“How does it keep it’s shape?” He had asked absentmindedly, starting slightly when Siren had answered his question. Kappa’s hands had stilled for a moment before continuing to separate out the strands for closer examination.
Relaxed in the Beacon’s hands, Siren’s mind had wandered to their conversation of the creatures that resided in the ocean, of the great serpents and beasts that Siren had never seen – had never heard of, not even from the other sharks.
Flappys, long necks, wiggle boys, clampers…
Growing up, Siren had been insatiable when it came to life beyond the palace, desperate to know more about the realm beyond the stone walls of home. When hunting groups returned, bruised and bleeding, he would pester them with questions until he was gently led away by his mother. The hunting groups, not wishing to deny the prince, had always answered his questions. Even when they were tired, battered and bruised. When they nursed their new scars. When they were mourning those who didn’t return home with them.
Siren had been too naïve back then to what his people would do for him, their saviour, when he asked.
But he had always had answers. And not once – not once – had he heard of the creatures Kappa spoke of.
Had Kappa braved the ocean’s vastness and seen things the shark people could only dream of?
Or…
The creatures Kappa spoke of, the names he uttered, seemed purely descriptive.
As if…he had been left to name the creatures for himself.
Had Kappa never had anyone there to tell him about the world that lay around him?
Had he always been alone, asking his questions aloud in the hopes he would receive an answer and never receiving one? Had he taken to working out the world for himself, answering his own questions, investigating and naming the wonders he discovered along the way.
Siren’s gut clenched at the thought, and he hoped it wasn’t true.
But his mind went back to Kappa’s hands freezing in surprise at Siren’s voice as he stroked his hair, and the thought remained.
The prince sighed, as best a shark could: drawing a rush of water in over his gills, breathing out a sharp breath and watching as bubbles floated up and away from him, settling against the ceiling, trapped. He closed his eyes and draped his arms over his face, wanting terribly to hide away in the dark.
He sighed a few more times, hoping it would dislodge the horrid tension in his chest.
Today was another day that he hadn’t killed the Beacon: another day he had lied to his mother. He could see she wanted to help, hoping he would open up to her and together they could work out how he was to kill the Beacon.
But that was just it: there was no problem solving here. He was no saviour. There was no Beacon - there was Kappa, and there was Siren. Two boys with an ocean of responsibilities on their shoulders.
Kappa might not have a choice in this situation, but Siren sure as hell did. Regardless of the help his mother could provide, at the end of the day the only solution to this problem in her eyes was to kill Kappa. And Siren couldn’t do it.
No. He wouldn’t do it.
He knew his mother understood his reservations when it came to the killing of Kappa. But she had her priorities in order (unlike him).
To her, the future of their people was worth Kappa’s sacrifice.
To Siren…
To Siren, the killing of an innocent was unthinkable.
The shark-people had been cursed for a reason – whether or not they were in the wrong, whether they deserved it, didn’t matter. They had made a choice, and in a few flaps of a sting ray’s wing the curse had been laid down.
Kappa…
Kappa had done nothing but exist. Done nothing but been born to a world that wanted to use him.
Kappa hadn’t made a choice.
Hadn’t even fought when Siren’s mother had lead him to the dungeon. Didn’t utter one syllable in protest as he was locked away in the darkness, the beauty of his shining scales hidden away behind bars. He had just…accepted what was going to happen to him.
It broke something in Siren’s chest, the fact that this person considered himself to be a sacrificial lamb leading himself to the slaughter.
The golden merman’s smile flashed in his mind’s eye, and Siren pulled a pillow over his face to muffle his groan. Kappa’s soft hair floating in the stilted current of the dungeon, his curious eyes as he asked for more information on the shark way of life despite the fact they had locked him away from the world against his will.
The look in his face when Siren first approached him with the ceremonial spear in his grasp…
He didn’t know he was better than this, worth more than this. Kappa had resigned himself to this fate, of existing only for other people to use.
It made Siren feel sick.
A knock at the door made him jump, the current swishing around him with his shock. He composed himself quickly, settling himself on the edge of his bed. “Enter,” came his voice, startlingly shaky.
A young girl stuck her head around the door, a large scar cutting down the right of her face from eyebrow to jawline. She smiled shyly, the action creasing the sharp line. “I’m sorry, my Prince, but your mother asked me to bring you dinner.”
Siren smiled as warmly as he could, the action feeling heavy. The young girl’s mother had worked with his own for years, acting as a shadow behind the two women. Eventually the Queen started giving her important errands to run to keep her occupied. “Not to worry, Dora. Thank you.”
She entered carefully, a bundled chunk of mystery meat hanging from one hand. And the other…
Siren felt himself truly grin. He inclined his head towards the smaller package, “Is that what I think it is?”
She nodded, “The Queen said they were your favourite.”
“She’s right,” He replied, taking the bundles from her. “Thank you.”
Dora moved to leave, but Siren noticed her hovering in the doorway, seemingly at odds over whether or not to ask something. He gave her a look of encouragement. “Can I do something for you Dora?”
She stammered for a moment, cheeks blushing red at being caught. She tugged tentatively at her mass of grey hair and looked away. Siren waited patiently as she delicately nibbled her lip.
“Mum said you’re going to save us all,” She said softly, eyes finally flicking to meet his own.
They were wide with hope, naivety, as she stared at the saviour of her people. A lump grew in his throat, and he found himself incapable of speech. Unable to look away from her gaze, he nodded dumbly – anything to placate that look.
“Mum’s going to have another baby,” She said, breathlessly. Her mouth quirked up at the corner, “I’m going to have a little brother or sister.”
Siren’s gut dropped as she asked, “Are you going to save them too?”
He felt hollow, as though he had been carved into and his insides taken from him, the remaining space being stuffed full of guilt and cowardice.
“They won’t have any scars,” She said, absentmindedly stroking the line that sliced down her face. “They won’t have to spend their lives broken…
“They’ll be beautiful – like you.”
At that Siren shot up from his bed with a jolt, incapable of sitting here when he knew he was too weak to fulfil this child’s dreams. What an innocent thought, her only concern was for her unborn sibling’s safety, and he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t help.
She jumped back at his reaction, fear replacing her hopeful expression. Her arm dragged against the sharp edge of the door’s latch and she cried out.
Siren could smell the blood from here.
“Dora-” He gasped, reaching for her.
She cradled her arm, pressing against the cut. “Don’t worry,” She said, keeping out of his grasp. “It’ll be one of my last ones.”
“One of your last…?” He echoed, dumbfounded.
She nodded. “Scars,” She clarified. “Because you’re going to kill the Beacon, and we won’t get hurt anymore.”
He froze, his hand still outstretched towards her. She gazed at him like he was a god – like he could do anything with a snap of his fingers. He tried desperately to keep himself from shaking.
She glanced down and assessed the cut, humming when she noticed it had already stopped bleeding. “I bet it will barely even scar. You’re amazing.”
Siren swallowed with difficulty, gills fluttering uselessly as he desperately tried to drag in a breath.
“When are you going to kill it?”
It?
“I hope you do it soon.”
It?
“D-?”
“I had better go,” She smiled, passing through the doorway quickly. “Enjoy your dinner!” She called sweetly as she closed the door after her and disappeared.
He moved forwards, ready to throw the door open and go after her, try and tell her he wasn’t this amazing saviour, that he couldn’t do what she asked. But his hand froze on the doorknob, unable to bring himself to pull it open. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward, banging heavily against the door with a sharp pain.
His tail stopped circling beneath him and he felt himself drift towards the floor, tail curling around him as he settled on the ground and let his head drop into his hands.
If sharks could cry, he would cry right now. He would sob and shake and feel the tears leave tracts of chilling moisture down his cheeks before falling from the edge of his jaw. They would plink softly as they landed on his princely jewellery, and he would be disconnected from the world for as long as he needed. He would cry, and it would be cathartic, and this awful, swirling feeling inside him would bleed out from his eyes.
But sharks don’t cry.
So instead he lies there, trapped. Feeling the creature twist and claw at his insides, stealing his breath, winding around his chest and squeezing.
He needed…
He needed…
A thought popped into his head, and for a moment he shied away from even considering it. It was shameful, and useless, and it didn’t help. No matter how many times he had let these thoughts win in the past, it never changed anything.
But right now. Right this second? It was all he could think about as he shook on the ground. His logical arguments against this seemed useless against the encompassing fog that clouded his thoughts, whispering for him to do it…
For him to try…
For him to try to be anything other than what he was…
He could do it. This time it would work.
He ran a tongue over his lips, considering.
If it worked…
‘But what was different now?’ his mind tried to fight back. ‘What’s changed?’
But Siren knew exactly what had changed.
If it worked…he wouldn’t need to be himself anymore.
He would be free.
And for a moment he felt misguided hope build in his chest, trying to push back against the serpentine creature but only making it angrier.
What’s changed?
He knew.
He knew, since the second Kappa came swimming through the gates of the castle.
He knew, as soon as he saw those shining scales, and heard that bubbling laugh.
With soft hands tracing through his hair. With the barest of touches from a golden fin, smooth as silk, drifting aimlessly through the cell bars.
With one look, he knew.
What’s changed?
Everything.
Everything.
*****
The dungeons were gloomy, the clumps of glowing moss sparse in the stone tunnels. But Siren didn’t need the light.
Because at the end of the tunnel, he could already make out the golden glow of Kappa, drawing him in.
His stomach somersaulted with emotion he didn’t recognise and his gills drew in a shuddering breath.
He felt excited. And nervous.
And, ever present, he felt guilt.
Something small and silver shot right past his ear and he flinched away. Scanning the darkness for what in God’s blue ocean that was, he spotted a shimmer of silver enter Kappa’s cell before the golden merman’s head snapped up and caught sight of him. And then, locked away in the dark and hidden from the world, Kappa smiled.
It was blinding.
“Siren.” Kappa’s voice was barely a breathe, but Siren heard it clear as day. He came to a stop in front of the bars, Kappa already waiting on the other side. But one look at Siren’s face and his smile faltered. “You okay?” He asked, wide eyes searching for a clue as to what was wrong.
Siren gripped at the cell bars with his free hand and stared down into Kappa’s eyes. Warm brown, with golden flecks adorning their depths. How did this man – who barely knew him – read him so easily? Where the rest of the sharks saw what they wanted to see, Kappa could see through the fog to him. How?
Siren felt the tension setting his mouth into a firm line, and felt embarrassed: it was written clear as day across his face that he was upset. Of course Kappa could see something was wrong: an idiot would be able to see it.
Stupid.
“Siren?” Kappa’s soft voice prompted, trying to draw him from his thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” Siren’s shaking voice sounded foreign to his ears, the notes weak and warbling.
Kappa’s mouth quirked up at the corner, and he tried to reach for Siren but he moved out of his grasp before they could touch. Kappa blinked at him, moving past it easily. “For what?”
“For – for…” Siren cast his arms around him, letting the two wrapped packages in his grasp fall to the ground as he gestured wildly. “For all this! For locking you away down here. For wanting to kill you for so many years – for looking forward to it-”
“Woah, woah!” Kappa hushed him, grasping at the cell bars. “It’s not your fault, Siren!”
“And now,” Siren continued, unheeded, running his hands across his scalp and tugging his hair hard. “Now you’re the one trying to console me? While you’re locked up and awaiting your death? Isn’t that messed up?”
“Not at all,” Kappa bit back, eyes alight as he took in the sight of the prince. “Please, calm down. Tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”
Siren’s hand came up towards his throat, grasping at the metal plate adorning his collarbone. It felt so weak, so flimsy, beneath his fingers. So worthless. Meaningless. Armour to cover his cowardice.
A shield to hide behind.
He gripped, harder, and tore it from him, the looping chains of silver warping under his strength and falling away in scattered pieces. He looked down at the metal grasped in his hand, almost confused with what he had done. His arm dropped to his side and he allowed the metal to fall from his fingertips, clattering gently to the ground.
The two remained in silence for long moments, Kappa giving him time to collect his thoughts as he stared on with wide eyes.
Siren thought back to the last thing Kappa had said, and it propelled him into action. He swam down towards his discarded packages, ripping the larger one containing his forgotten dinner. Kappa drifted closer, still not saying anything.
Siren passed the chunk of meat to Kappa, the other merman taking it without a word, just a look of absolute confusion.
“Si-” He started.
“You can help!” Siren said, finally grasping what he had been searching for. He brought it up to Kappa’s line of sight, and the other boy jumped back with a surprised grasp. In Siren’s hand was a very sharp looking knife.
It was short, small, a shining blade and hilt adorned with mother of pearl. A gift from his father. A final gift, before…
“What is that?” Kappa gasped accusingly, eyes bugging out of his skull.
Siren looked to the blade as though it were obvious. “A…knife?”
“What are you doing with it?” Each of Kappa’s words was overflowing with panic.
“I need you to help me,” Siren explained.
“I don’t know what-”
“Cut me.”
“WHAT!?”
“I need you to cut me,” Siren said slowly, the adrenaline coursing through his system starting to make him jittery. “Please.”
Kappa stammered uselessly, hands flapping around his face and his silver fish companions swimming panicked circles around him. “I-I don’t-Siren!”
That adrenaline was burning up fast. Siren had been sure that this was the right thing to do, but now that guilt and fear back, crashing through him as the tide returned to the shore. “Kappa, please-”
“I won’t-”
That swirling creature was squeezing again, and Siren gripped the knife’s hilt tighter. “Kappa-”
“I can’t-” The golden merman’s head was shaking back and forth furiously, eyes screwed shut.
Siren couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The agony and misery in his chest was clawing it’s way up his throat, digging into his soft gills until they stopped drawing in oxygen, clamping his sharp teeth down on his tongue in a desperate bid to keep him from talking. It wasn’t going to work. Kappa wasn’t going to listen.
So he would show him.
Without hesitation, he brought the knife to the soft skin of his forearm. The delicate, thin, weak skin.
Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t live-
Not like this!
With a gasp he dragged the wicked blade across the skin. He did it again. And then again. He was hyper fixated on the action now, of drawing that edge over his arm, of digging it in as deep as it would go, but each time he did it his chest got a little tighter.
Because that was how it always went.
His brain went…like this. Prompting him, telling him to do this and he’ll feel better. That it would help to ground him – that it was a distraction from the painful feelings tearing him apart. This would make it all better – all the staring, the adoring, the talk of a saviour. This would fix it.
But it never did.
Because he thought the pain would free him, and he felt nothing. Each drag of knife edge across his skin felt somehow muted, his body numb to any pain. He tried again and again to feel something and, as always, was left feeling disappointed.
Instead the serpent coiled tighter, more deadly. Mocking him and his inability to make his own choices. He was his own person – he should have some control over this!
But, he didn’t.
The urge to cut left in a flash, leaving him hollow and shameful. His fingers grew lax and the knife slipped from then, and he let himself drift to settle on the ground.
Things came back to him slowly.
Kappa was shrieking, the sound bouncing around the cavern and piercing his ears, shaking the bars of his cell like a mad man, pressing up against the metal and stretching a grasping hand out as far as he could. Shouting his name, over and over. Losing his mind.
Siren finally looked up and caught his eye, and the Beacon grew still.
Those warm brown eyes flicked quickly, just once, to Siren’s unmarked arm.
There was no flush of red staining the sea around him.
No scent of blood tainting the water.
Siren had tried as hard as he could, and…nothing.
His arm was fine.
“Wha-?” Kappa’s voice died in his throat and he stopped pulling at the cell, drifting gently to the floor like Siren had. “Wha-?” He tried again. But still, nothing.
Siren let out a huge puff of air bubbles, and hid his face in his hand. “I’m sorry,” He mumbled, feeling empty and worthless, the need to disappear and not exist anymore overwhelming him.
“Siren…”
“I’m sorry,” His voice held a sob as he choked out the words.
“Come here.”
That voice was so soft. Like everything Kappa did: soft, inviting. Kind – sweet. Looking to help people: no matter the cost, no matter that he was cursed to do these things anyway. He met people who just wanted to use him, and he let them if it meant he could help.
And Siren, ironically, was drawn in by that command, lost in it’s lilting syllables.
He brought himself and the knife before Kappa for judgement, refusing to meet those eyes.
And Kappa, oh so slowly so as not to startle him, tentatively reached forwards and wrapped his hands in Sirens, gently removing the knife from his grasp and putting it out of reach within the cell. But then those hands were back, grasping at his fingers, Kappa’s smooth skin rubbing against his which was abrasive.
Siren rested his head against the bars of the cell, and Kappa did the same so that their foreheads could touch.
And in the dark pits of the dungeon, Kappa began to sing.
Neither of them moved as the Beacon opened his mouth and brought forth magic, the melody twisting around Siren and easing the tension in his chest, causing the gaping black hole within him to recede and let him reclaim his body. The Beacon sang and Siren’s eyes stayed closed, focusing only on Kappa’s song.
And, after all these years, Siren felt something he never had before. All that searching for something to ground him, something to distract him from who he was-
This was it. Right here.
Kappa’s singing chased the darkness, the demons, back with his shining light. Thawed the numbness that had settled across Siren, and calmed the raging thoughts in his mind.
The song was over too soon.
“You okay?” Kappa asked once more, and this time Siren could answer.
“Yeah.”
Kappa’s hand reached through the bars and swept through Siren’s hair, rubbing the harsh strands between his fingers. “Want to talk about it?”
Siren shifted, Kappa’s hand falling away from him as he sat up. He nodded, words eluding him for a moment, suddenly feeling exhausted.
He lay down on the ground and, mirroring his movements, Kappa joined him.
The two lay a hand’s breadth from each other, unable to tear their eyes away. Siren brought his arm up, threading it through the bars, and under Kappa’s head. Instantly Kappa leaned into the touch and the two tried to shuffle closer.
If Siren closed his eyes, he could almost imagine they were sharing a bed together, far from this dungeon. The light sound of Kappa’s gills fluttering, flowing golden fins drifting over his own scales.
Like silk…
“I used to look forward to the day I would kill you,” Siren started, tongue feeling heavy and uncooperative in his mouth.
Kappa held his gaze intently, listening.
“I was young – I enjoyed the praise of the people. Enjoyed being their saviour. The unscarred prince! I was going to save them all.”
Siren sighed, “They were so grateful.
“But then I started to consider what it actually meant, to be this saviour. The…the pressure that came with it. They had waited a century for me, dreamed and envisioned me: for decades, each and every person in this castle thought about me and what I might be, building me up and up in their heads.
“And then I arrived. And that image they created is so strong they can’t see me through it. That image casts a long shadow that engulfs me and everything I am. And suddenly I realised that I didn’t like it anymore.”
Kappa hummed softly for him to continue, moving his head so it rested on Siren’s bicep. Without thinking the prince bent his elbow to bring his hand up and run it through Kappa’s hair, stroking the strands as he continued.
“Then one day, I had a thought.” He paused, feeling shame rise up all over again. “A bad thought.
“I was the unscarred prince. So I thought, if I didn’t want to be their saviour…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
But Kappa understood, breathing out the words, “You could scar yourself.”
Siren nodded. He wanted to avert his eyes but this close the only sight in his vision was Kappa. Kappa’s warm eyes, Kappa’s cluster of freckles, Kappa’s light pink lips…
“But it didn’t work?” Kappa asked.
“No,” Siren said. “At first I thought it was because I was being a coward, too scared to press hard enough and do it. So I started looking out some of my mother’s weapons – sharp, intimidating looking things. The mere sight of them used to have me shaking like seaweed trapped in a current.
“But each and every time, nothing happened. It was like I was made of stone, the blade scrapping across the surface uselessly. I started pressing harder, trying to dig in with the point-” He cut himself off, not wanting to follow that path of thinking. “I started to crave the pain - the idea of the pain, anyway. But I only felt numbness when it happened. And that drove me even more crazy. No matter what I did, I didn’t have a choice. I was going to be a murderer, whether I liked it or not.”
“But look Siren,” Kappa said gently and a hand reached up to caress the prince’s cheek. “I’m lying here, right in front of you, and you haven’t killed me.
“I’ve been presented to you, unarmed and caged, while you’ve wielded a spear that kept you well out of harm’s way, and you haven’t killed me.
“And not only haven’t you killed me, you’ve talked to me. You’ve joked with me, listened to what I have to say.” Kappa’s thumb was tracing his cheekbone now and Siren couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “You have been the only person in my entire life to treat me like I am real.
“You say you don’t have a choice. But look at yourself! How can you believe that when we’re both here, like this?”
“It’s because of me you’re-”
“Still alive. Yes, you’re right.”
“Kappa-”
“All the fish in the sea-”
“Kappa-“
“And my only friend is Prince SpikyHead McPointyTeeth.”
Siren couldn’t help the laugh that burst out his mouth, and in a second he could feel the vibration of Kappa’s laugh against where he lay on his arm. The two sat in silence after that for a few minutes, enjoying the comfort of each other being so close.
Siren felt more than saw the moment Kappa thought of something unsavoury, and the prince raised a brow. “What is it?”
Kappa shuffled slightly, warring with himself over whether he should say these next words or not.
In the end, he couldn’t stop himself as he asked in a burst, “Why did you ask me to cut you, if you can’t be cut?”
“Oh,” Siren blinked, caught unawares. “Uh- that was more in the stress of the moment. I wasn’t thinking.”
“You seemed pretty convinced.”
The guilt was swirling threateningly again, and Siren forced himself to break their connection as he gently pulled his arm back and sat up, Kappa joining him a moment later.
“I- uh…I just thought…” God, he didn’t want to say it out loud. He didn’t want to admit his thought process and then hear just how stupid it was. “I thought…since I was supposed to be the one to kill you, surely in that situation you would have a fighting chance? Like if I can hurt you, maybe you can hurt me too?”
“I don’t think being the Beacon works like that,” Kappa said, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t get a fighting chance.”
“But you must!” Siren found himself crying. “It’s not fair to send you to your death and not even be able to defend yourself.”
Kappa smiled softly, eyes filled with an apology that Siren didn’t understand. “I’m here to fulfil the prophecies. Nowhere in your prophecy does it say that I hurt you.”
“And nowhere in the prophecy does it say that you don’t hurt me!” Siren snapped. “You’ve said it yourself – the prophecies aren’t always straight forward. Maybe you can give me my scar!”
“Siren-” Kappa pleaded, growing concerned once more.
“No, no,” Siren tried to reassure that he was thinking clearly. “Sorry, I’m not meaning to scare you. Just…Kappa, I’m asking you if you would be willing to try it?”
“Um-”
“Just take a moment to think about it, that’s all I ask – after that, I will one hundred percent respect whatever decision you make.”
Kappa looked nervously at the discarded knife, bringing it into his hand and letting his gaze wander over it. His eyes flashed up to Sirens quickly, once, before back to his hands. “What happens if it doesn’t work?”
Siren shrugged, “Things go right back to the way they’ve been going. No harm, no foul. Literally.”
Kappa hummed thoughtfully, ignoring his joke. “And…if it works?”
Siren grins, “Then it means I can’t be the one to kill you! I don’t have to be ‘the saviour’ anymore, and you can be free.”
“No I won’t.”
“What-”
“If you get a scar then I suppose you’re right, you won’t be the one to kill me. But the prophecy would still need fulfilled – meaning another unscarred prince will come along to do the job. I won’t be free – your mother will keep me here until that fateful day. I will be here for years, waiting – and the next prince might not be as kind as you are.”
Siren’s next words crumpled like ash on his tongue, his initial retort lost. Because he could see it, exactly as Kappa described. That is exactly what would happen. It would set Siren free, but not Kappa.
The saviour would be gone, but the Beacon remains.
“I’ll spend my life, waiting for your replacement.” Kappa’s voice warbled dangerously, and he refused to meet Siren’s eye.
“Kappa-”
Suddenly the merman set his shoulders squarely, locking Siren’s gaze. “But you’ll finally be happy to be yourself. If I can make that happen, I’ll do it!”
“Kappa, you don’t have to!” Siren was panicking: he knew that Kappa had a problem with putting others before himself. He shouldn’t have talked about it – now he’s guilted Kappa into doing something he doesn’t want to do.
“Yes I do.”
“No-”
“Siren!” Kappa snapped, using a tone the prince had never heard him use before. “We’re both unhappy. Why have both of us being miserable when there’s a chance for one of us to get what they want?”
That was…flawless logic. Damn, Siren didn’t have a rebuttal.
He was right when he thought that Kappa knew how to read him – from the merman’s smug look, he could see he had won.
“Well, what do you want?” Siren asked.
Kappa stuttered. “Huh?”
“You said there’s a chance for one of us to get what they want – what do you want?”
“I don’t know what you mean?” Kappa’s voice was suddenly very small, unsure.
“Yes, you do.”
“I…I don’t know.” Kappa sounded lost, eyes trailing away to nothingness. “I…I’ve never thought…No one’s ever asked…”
Siren’s heart sank.
Of course the ever caring Beacon had never thought to take a second for himself to find out what would make him happy.
Anger coiled in Siren’s gut.
Holding a hand over his heart, Siren said with a powerful tone, “I, Prince Siren, heir to the throne of the sharks, promise you Kappa, the Beacon, to help you in finding what in this world would make you happy. Whether it takes a month, a year, a century! If you are willing to set me free of my curse, I will do everything in my power to set you free of yours.” Siren considered his words for a moment, “And of this dungeon too, of course.” He thrust his hand through the bars and raised a brow, “Do we have a deal?”
Kappa stared at him thoughtfully, expression unreadable. He regarded the prince’s outstretched hand carefully. “You would help me, even a hundred years from now, if it meant I was free to do whatever I liked?”
“If it meant you had freewill and were no longer a puppet,” Siren clarified, “I would give up a whole lifetime.”
“I’m pretty sure a hundred years will be longer than most lifetimes…”
“Shut up. Do we have a deal?”
Hesitantly, Kappa reached forwards and clasped Siren’s hand in his. “We have a deal.” The golden merman raised the knife in his freehand, staring down at Siren’s arm with terror in his eyes. “So…now?”
“Aren’t you eager?” Siren teased, instantly backtracking and apologising as he saw the expression on Kappa’s face.
“It…it’s going to hurt.”
“For just a moment,” Siren assured. “Plus, me stabbing a spear through your chest probably would hurt more.”
Kappa hummed thoughtfully. “How big do you want it?”
“It doesn’t matter – as long as it’s deep enough to scar.”
“Can I make it a smiley face?”
Siren let out a barked laugh of surprise, Kappa’s teasing tone catching him completely unawares. “In all honestly, after all this I would even take a frowny face.”
Kappa giggled lightly, sobering as he brought the knife close to Siren’s forearm. His hand was shaking, eyes staring crazed at the pale skin and the glinting silver. With his free hand Siren reached forward to steady Kappa. “It’ll be okay. A minute from now and it’ll be over.”
“Okay,” Kappa’s shaky voice said, lowering the knife to rest on Siren’s skin. He blew out an uneasy breath. “Can I close my eyes?” He asked.
“Of course,” Siren said to him, bringing his hand up to cup Kappa’s face. “The knife is sharp, it’ll do most of the work.”
Kappa nodded, eyes falling shut. He took a deep breath, two, holding each in his chest for a moment before releasing, then-
Siren felt the blade drag across his skin. Felt the familiar muted sensation.
He couldn’t smell any blood.
Disappointed, he checked his arm to be sure, but he was right – there was nothing. The knife had done nothing, yet again.
He truly was cursed.
“Are you okay?” Kappa asked, eyes still firmly shut.
Siren hummed his response. “Didn’t work,” He mumbled.
“Oh,” Kappa said, eyes flicking open. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Siren smiled, reaching to take the knife from Kappa’s still shaking hand and put it back with the ripped packaging. “It was worth a shot.”
“So what now?”
“Now?” Siren pondered, eyes catching the second small bundle that had completely slipped his mind. “Well I brought dinner, so no use letting it go to waste.”
The two devoured the hunk of mystery meat between them, all conversation abandoned in the presence of food. Then Siren reached to open the remaining package to reveal a handful of tiny pink squid.
“They’re my favourite,” Siren said sheepishly, concerned that the squid were wholly underwhelming.
But one glance at Kappa put that thought to rest as the merman’s eyes went wide. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“Mum says they can only be found in the back of the castle’s cave,” Siren explained. “Do you want to try one?”
Kappa continued to stare before tentatively reaching out. His eyes fell closed upon the first bite, and as he chewed he hummed his contentment. He didn’t open his eyes for almost another minute. “I think I’m in love,” He moaned.
“So…you want another one?”
Kappa practically growled at the suggestion and together the pair of them worked through the bag, mourning the loss when their supply ran dry.
Kappa giggled, patting his full stomach contently. “I’ve decided,” he announced, “That the thing that I want that will make me happy is more of those squid. Prince Siren, heir to the throne of the sharks,” he said, mocking the prince’s voice, “I hereby charge you with the mission of finding me an endless supply of those squid. Because, oh my god, they were amazing!”
“Nice try,” Siren teased, “But the deal’s off. Scarring me didn’t work – guess we’ve both got to spend the rest of our lives miserable.”
Kappa thought for a moment, before a cheeky grin set into his face. “Tell you what,” He offered, “You help me find my happiness, and I help you find yours. A fair deal, no?”
Siren raised an eyebrow sceptically, “You just want more of those squid.”
Kappa grinned even wider. “Do we have a deal?”
“Those poor creatures are going to go extinct because of you.”
“Do we have a deal?” Kappa stretched out a hand and playfully poked Siren’s shoulder.
The unscarred prince and the Beacon regarded each other for a long moment.
Siren gripped Kappa’s hand, “Deal.”
They both found themselves blushing.