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They say nereids are supposed to be calm. We are supposed to be happy, free, and secure. And to tell the truth, when I'm lazily floating along in a coral reef, watching the fish swim, I feel more at peace in those moments than I ever did back on dry land. When I swim up to the surface and look at the moon and stars above, their reflections dancing on tranquil waters, I know I belong here. In those moments, I am exactly what a nereid should be.
And all it takes to lose that feeling is you crossing my mind.
Does the sea feel as much like home to you as it does to me? I really hope it does. Is that why you always come alone? I'm not exactly complaining, since more people would make it harder to sneakily swim behind you, but it makes me wonder. Would you be the kind of person that would like me to whisk you away beneath the waves, where I could caress you and kiss you and make love to you? Or are you one of those Order fanatics that would kill me the first chance you got?
I wish I wasn't afraid to ask.
You know, I was a human like you, once. I was a sailor, one of many that traveled aboard a modest trading cog. It was a rough life, sailing aboard a mercantile ship. You see, there's always something to fear: Pirates, violent stowaways, not being able to make end's meet with this next trade. There's never a moment where something troubling isn't lingering in the back of the mind. The worst things are the storms. It's astonishing how fast the weather turns out on the high seas. One minute, it's a gorgeously clear day without a cloud in the sky. The next, you're holding onto dear life as torrential rain pours around you. The waves crash violently against the mast, showering you in frigid saltwater, but you don't give up. You've been through worse, right? But then, just as you think the worst of it has passed, a titanic wave slams directly into you, the force of the water blasting you into the depths below.
There is nothing more terrifying than drowning. The tightness crushing your chest, the rapid heartbeat, the soul-rending realization that you will never breathe again. No words can do it justice. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, let alone you. I fought with every ounce of strength I could muster, but the churning waters were just too much. They sucked me deeper and deeper beneath the cold waves. In my last moments, a million regrets swam through my head. I wished that I hadn't left my hometown. I wished that I had taken that cute farm boy's offer for a date. I even just wished that I had helped myself to one more cup of ale that morning. I felt like such a failure, to die so young and alone. As the life finally started leaving me, though, all of those regrets and terrors seemed to die alongside it. It was as if the water itself stopped fighting me and started soothing me. I experienced a peace I had never understood before in my entire existence. In my final moments, there was only acceptance.
And then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. The water stopped dragging me down, and the tightness in my chest vanished as I gasped. Instead of water flowing into my throat, though, I inhaled, then exhaled. My breath came back to me! Even though I was dozens of feet underwater, I could breathe as easily as if it were a fresh spring day. What's even more bizarre was that I wasn't even alarmed by this change, nor was I scared when I looked down and saw my pale skin begin to shift towards a deep blue. It all felt so relaxing, so natural, so. . . liberating.
A thousand burdens were lifted from my shoulders. I don't know how to describe it. It's like describing a color. There was just this innate knowledge that I would never need to worry about anything else again. The water was my home. I could drift about lazily, minding my own business. I sang with sirens, I gossiped with mermaids, and I even prayed to Poseidon with the sea bishops. I went wherever I felt like going. There were no responsibilities, no demands, and no fears. Each day was a new adventure. It was the perfect life, and I was happy.
You ruined everything.
I've been watching you for a long time. Every day, rain or shine, you take that little boat of yours out on the bay, cast your line, and wait for the fish you'll never catch. You've got to be the worst fisher to ever grace the water. Sometimes, out of pity, I even tug on your line just to make you think you got a bite. And yet, for some reason, you never let these failures bother you. You just hum, or talk to yourself, or even read a book until you decide it's time to head back to land. All the while, from the other side of the bay, I watch you, my head barely poking out of the water. I can only float there, wondering if today is the day I finally work up the courage to talk to you.
But, without fail, I let my chance slip away. Maybe a few drops of rain start to fall, or maybe the sun begins to hang low to the west, or maybe you just decide that you're done for the day. No matter what compels you to leave, you go. Despite the fact that you caught nothing, I can tell by that contented look on your face that you didn't leave empty-handed, not where it counts.
Night falls, and as I try to sleep on the ocean floor, there's always a certain amount of time spent lying awake. And I wonder: Will this be the night where some other mamono takes you for herself? Will you ever return to my bay? Even if you do, am I merely doomed to another day of watching from afar, dreaming of the life I'm too afraid to claim?
It's always the same empty resolution. Tomorrow, things will be different. Tomorrow, I'll finally introduce myself to you. Tomorrow, I'll let go of the only fear I have left and truly become what a nereid should be. Tomorrow will be different.
Then, in the morning, you return, still single, still oblivious to me. I thank the gods for this second chance. Today will be the day my life changes forever.
Then, I think of what would happen if you rejected me. All that courage I tried to summon the night before sinks beneath a sea of terrible outcomes. Before I know it, it's like I'm drowning all over again.
So as you fish in the bay, I merely watch, and I face the fact that I'm neither nereid nor human, but merely some abomination in between.