Chapter Text
He sits alone on the sand, appreciating the little grains that tickle his skin and sift between his toes. He enjoys the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and the cool ocean breeze that soothes the heat of the sun, shining white and bright on this clear day. It’s quite rare that there isn’t anyone else populating the beach despite this pleasant weather, but he’s very thankful that’s the case.
Just the other day the kids around the neighbourhood were bothering him, whispering amongst themselves, shouting at him, and then throwing sand and whatever other things they could get their hands on to try to make him leave. So much for living up to his grandpa’s wishes and making new friends… It seems wherever he goes, whatever new and unfamiliar town he stays in, some people will just dislike him no matter what he does. And as much as his grandpa tells him it’s not about him being ‘weird’, he’s pretty sure that’s the very reason why all these kids like to cause trouble around him.
At least he can rest easy knowing that he and his grandpa won’t be staying here for too long. The two of them always move from place to place, staying no longer than a month or two before packing up and travelling to some other new part of the world. It’s just enough time for him to see whatever sights there may be, while not becoming attached to the snapshot of a world he only sees from afar. Sooner or later he’ll have to say goodbye to this vast coast and all the peace it brings to his mind and soul, the feeling of the breeze and the sound of the seas being stored only in his young memory.
A little finger traces a line in the dry sand, gliding up and down and around without a goal in mind. Pushing himself forward onto his knees and crawling forwards, he continues the line until the sand beneath his skin becomes damp and he meets the shoreline. Seawater gently laps against his knees and he shivers. He isn’t afraid of the water, but looking out at how wide and deep the ocean is, he knows how easy it is for the waves to sweep everything away.
He doesn’t have any recollection of it, but apparently he was found on a quiet beach much like this one, washed ashore after a violent stormy night. It was a miracle that such a weak infant was still alive, somehow not having drowned after traversing the seas to this point, and it wasn’t long until he was taken in by the one he calls his grandpa.
Wherever he came from and whoever he’s supposed to be remains a mystery, not that he’s terribly interested in finding out. As far as he knows, he’s lived his whole life with his grandpa and it’s likely that any family he may have—if they’re even still alive—would’ve already abandoned him by this point. He’s okay with that. He’s already happy with his grandpa and all the travels they go on together, always a new experience after the next.
Feeling an obvious grumble in his stomach, he supposes he’s done with playing at the beach for now and he should probably head back home. Spinning on his heel, he kicks up sand as he dashes away from the shore, towards a small house situated on the higher end of the coast. With his head lowered and his eyes focused on the changing ground before his feet, he hopes that no one will bother him on his way there.
“…Do you ever find it difficult sometimes?”
“Difficult?” the old man echoes, lifting an eyebrow at such a question. “What exactly are you referring to?”
“Well…you know… I just assume it’s not easy having to look after a child with special needs.”
The old man resists the urge to slam the front door in the other’s face. It’s one thing for a guest to just drop by his house uninvited, but it’s another to start nosing around and digging into personal details, especially anything involving the child under his care. He’s sure that his guest is merely curious, perhaps searching for some juicy gossip to share with the rest of the town, and he fully intends to give them no such satisfaction.
“Well I have no idea what you’re talking about!” he exclaims, his sudden volume surprising the other. “Emmet is a very well mannered boy and it’s a joy watching him learn and grow.”
“I see… Correct me if I’m wrong, but I heard the poor boy can’t even read or write. Have you considered having him attend a school? He’ll surely benefit from a basic level of education.”
The old man holds back a sigh. As always, rumours spread fast in places like this and he can only hope that his little boy hasn’t been negatively affected by any of them yet. With a firm shake of his head, he responds, “I appreciate the concern, but we’re fine as is. It’s likely that we won’t be staying here for very long, so he wouldn’t learn much at school anyway.”
“But shouldn’t you at least–”
“Oh my, would you look at the time!” the old man exaggeratedly says while pointing at the antique watch on his wrist. “It seems I have an appointment very soon! And I’d hate to be late for that!”
“Well, I suppose I should get going then.” The guest takes a step back from the doorway, plastering a fake smile on their face. “It was nice chatting with you, Drayden.”
“Likewise.” Drayden puts on a smile as well, though his thick white beard makes it difficult to see. “Thank you for coming by to check in on us,” he says just before he firmly shuts the door, twisting the lock into place with a satisfying click. Pleasantries and neighbourly relations aside, he’d prefer if visitors to this house don’t become a regular occurrence.
Turning around, Drayden takes three steps before noticing the sandy footprints scattered on the wooden floor. They appear to originate from the house’s back door, and as he follows the trail he eventually finds a young boy crouched behind the kitchen counter, snacking on some berries stolen from the fresh fruit bowl.
With a fond glint in his eye, he carefully lowers himself on one knee in front of the boy. “Welcome home, Emmet. Did you have fun at the beach?”
Emmet smiles in response, his mouth stained a slight red from the berry juices, and he nods enthusiastically while his cheeks are still filled with a tart sweetness.
“You must be hungry, huh?” Drayden notes, reaching out to lightly pinch the boy’s cheek. “How about you go get cleaned up first while I prepare lunch?”
Emmet’s silver eyes sparkle, delighted by the thought of food, but then hesitance overtakes his expression. A small hand reaches forward to point at the old man’s watch, tapping the edge of the clock face twice, and the boy tilts his head in silent question.
“Oh, that was just an excuse. I don’t actually have an appointment scheduled,” Drayden responds, but he pauses for a moment. “…Or rather, I should say that having lunch with my little boy is my appointment!” he exclaims, roughly tousling Emmet’s silver hair which is dusted with particles of sand.
Emmet kicks his legs playfully as soundless laughter passes through his wide grinning mouth, and he scrambles to his feet to avoid his grandpa’s hands. Not wanting his hair to be messed up any further, he takes off to the bathroom with fast light steps while also stuffing the last few berries into his mouth. His grandpa doesn’t chase after him, but Emmet can still hear the old man’s booming laughter throughout the house, and he smiles to himself as the happy sound rings pleasantly in his ears.
With his belly full and satisfied, Emmet lies on the rug as he carefully draws on a piece of scrap paper. He’s in deep focus, gripping the pencil with his fist while he attempts to portray the beauty of the fresh seafood they just had for lunch. So tasty, so yummy. It makes his mouth water even though he’s already had his fill.
“Emmet,” his grandpa calls, and the boy’s eyes flick over to where the old man is seated by a tall table, beckoning to him. “Could you come here for a moment?”
Emmet glances down at his drawing, not looking much like anything to him, and he simply abandons it with a drop of his pencil before making his way over. His grandpa easily pulls him up onto his lap, and the boy sits comfortably as he curiously stares at the strange objects on the table. There’s an array of bits and bobs laid out on a piece of white cloth, some familiar and others unusual, and he silently wonders what all of this is for.
“Pick whatever calls to you, my boy,” his grandpa says, patting him on the shoulder. “You may take as many as you like.”
With a quick nod, Emmet begins to scan each object carefully. There are some which appear pretty normal, like buttons, little wooden carvings, a rusty key, or a simple stone. And then, there are the few artefacts that he gets a strange feeling from, like a blue crystal that glows mysteriously, an eerie animal skull the size of his fist, or an egg patterned with green splotches. But he doesn’t end up picking any of those ones because something else seems to resonate with him more… Three items, to be exact, which he picks out one at a time to hand to his grandpa.
“A misshapen pearl. How interesting,” Drayden observes when Emmet gives him the first item. “We have more spherical and iridescent pearls here and yet this is the one you picked… Then again, it’s within human nature to be drawn to what appears perfect, choosing the roundest pearl out of the batch when in fact every pearl is special in its own right.”
“And here we have a conch shell, another item from the sea.” The old man holds it up, his larger hand dwarfing the size of the pink-tinted shell, and he runs his thumb along the frilled edge. “Listen to it closely and it’s as if you hear the ocean waves…” he remarks, delicately placing the shell against his ear to do just that.
Apparently it’s the first time that Emmet has ever heard of such a thing, because he makes a fuss in his grandpa’s lap, attempting to take the shell out of his grasp so that he can listen to it himself. When his grandpa gracefully hands the conch shell back to him, he excitedly holds it up against his ear and closes his eyes, hearing the soft swishing currents of the sea and the whistle of the cool air. It’s as if he’s standing right by the ocean, its entire essence captured by this single seashell… and Emmet’s silver eyes snap open with sparkling amazement as he stares up at his grandpa, completely mystified by what he’s just experienced.
The old man just chuckles, the soft rumbling sound tickling the boy’s ears. “You may think you hear the ocean, but in truth, it’s just an auditory illusion. What you’re actually perceiving is the resonance of the world around you, and it just happens to sound like the ocean.”
Emmet’s head tilts and his face twists with a sense of confusion, but he nods along anyway as he attempts to understand the explanation. After a brief pause, he just shrugs his shoulders and places the seashell aside before picking up the last item which calls for his attention, promptly handing it over to his grandpa.
“What’s this? ‘The Temple Under the Sea’... ” the old man reads out the title of the book and he briefly flips through its pages. It’s obviously a children’s book with how there are more pictures than there are words, the impressive illustrations of the ocean likely being the thing that captured Emmet’s attention.
“Hmm… Well I suppose this will be tonight’s bedtime story!” Drayden comments as he closes the book, and the boy in his lap nods happily at that, eager to have the fictional book read to him.
But a pensive expression takes over the old man’s features, and he slowly glances between the book and his boy with concerned yellow eyes. “Emmet… if I may ask, have you ever wanted to read books like this yourself?”
Emmet barely needs to think before shaking his head in response.
“Would you ever want to go to school?”
Now, Emmet rapidly shakes his head with wide intense eyes, knowing for a fact that those annoying kids all attend that hellscape known as a ‘school’. Never would he ever want to go to such a nightmarish place.
“It’s as I thought,” Drayden murmurs, slowly nodding to himself while stroking his beard. “I suppose I was doubtful of my own choices for a moment there. We’ve always moved from place to place and sometimes I worry whether you feel unstable because of it. Whether you’re missing out on a normal life…”
For the third time, Emmet shakes his head and he turns around to wrap his short arms around his grandpa in some semblance of a hug. The smile that usually brightens up his face drops into a sad frown, and he looks up at the other with round silver eyes.
“You’re a good boy, Emmet. Truly,” Drayden warmly says as he gently pats his boy on the back. “There’s no need to look at me like that, I just wanted to be sure that you’re happy with the current state of things. We still have many places to visit, and it’s likely that we’ll only be staying here for the rest of this month before heading off to the next town!” he exclaims with the joy of adventure in his tone, and he fondly ruffles Emmet’s hair with his large warm hand.
Inaudible giggles escape Emmet, and with his cheerful smile restored he nods along enthusiastically, wondering just where in the world they’ll go next… what exciting places they’ll be able to see…
Even though his grandpa told him not to stay outside too late, Emmet can’t seem to resist the call of the ocean because he heads down to the beach again. The sun is on its way to setting but that’s more than enough time for the boy to simply enjoy himself, running around while kicking up sand and watching his footprints disappear when the shallow waters wash them away.
He’s happy and he’s content with just the ocean and himself, even though he never treads deep enough to feel the water against his knees. Never has he tried to swim before, not that he even knows how, and he certainly isn’t keen on doing so anytime soon… Just playing by the waterline is enough for him.
And as he dances and prances, a sound begins to trickle into the boy's ears… something that isn’t quite the sounds of the sea. It rises and falls, it holds a story in its melody, and as it gradually rings louder in Emmet’s ears, he realises that it’s a song. A lovely, beautiful song that draws him in, pulling him closer to the ocean. The water below resonates with the enchanting melody and it makes the boy want to ride along the waves to hear more of it. Instinctively, he wishes to hum and sing along, the insides of his throat following the ups and downs of the tune despite no sound actually coming out.
The more he listens, the deeper into the water he wades until he realises that the song seems to have direction. Turning his head to the left, it rings louder in his ears, and he single-mindedly follows that trail, wanting nothing more than to find its source. His legs skip through the water in slow motion, one floating step after the next as his head tilts with the movement of the waves. The sandy beach to his left transitions to rocky formations that stretch upwards into a cliffside, and there’s a small cave along the base where seawater sloshes in and out of.
That’s where it is. Where the song seems to be coming from.
Emmet climbs up onto the rocks that line the sides of the cave’s entrance and he heads in without any hesitation, sidling along the wall as the ledge below his feet quickly becomes more and more narrow. It’s not long until he comes to a point where he can’t progress any further without jumping into the deep waters below, and he just sticks by the wall, not moving an inch.
The cave is filled with sound. The walls echo and reverberate with the lovely song, sounding vast and round and endless to his ears. It’s all around him, and he realises that he can be content with this as well. He slides down to sit by the water’s edge, legs dangling over and submerged up to his ankles, and he quietly enjoys the melody that strongly resonates in his ears.
Surprisingly, natural light still manages to touch this place, the sun in the perfect position while it descends towards the horizon, shining warm rays that illuminate the inside of the cave. He can only wonder how he hadn’t found this place sooner, this magical little corner tucked away from the rest of the world where a beautiful song can be heard…
But it seems all good things must come to an end because the tune trails off all too soon, much to Emmet’s disappointment. The song certainly didn’t sound like it reached its natural end, and he wonders what could have happened. He gazes down at the deep seawater swaying against his feet as the ocean naturally fills the void left behind, and he squints for a moment. He isn’t sure whether the light of the horizon is simply playing tricks on him, but it’s almost like he can see something just under the shimmering waves…
And his questions are soon answered when something suddenly brushes against the underside of his foot. Ticklish as he is, Emmet kicks his feet up in surprise, bringing millions of tiny water droplets with him which fall back into the ocean with barely any disturbance.
“…”
Seconds of shocked silence tick by and the boy is frozen still, unsure of what he should be doing right now. His silver eyes are fixated on the water, searching for and anticipating the slightest oddity that may arise… And yet he still doesn’t expect it to actually happen, the water just in front of him starting to bulge and give way to whatever is emerging from the depths.
Emmet would move back from the edge if he could, but the solid wall against his back stops him from doing anything of the sort. He can only sit still and watch as water trickles down locks of silver hair and round eyes of great familiarity look back at him.
A head floats just above the water. A human head. An almost-human head with webbed ears and strange scale-like markings around the forehead and cheeks.
But that is not what captures him.
It’s the fact that this head shares his face, perfectly mirroring everything… even the raw expression of surprise as they silently stare at one another with identical silver eyes.