Chapter Text
Going to the surface was not something that Alhaitham would indulge in, unlike many of the other curious children in the ocean.
Ever since he was small, Alhaitham would hear rumors about the creatures that lived up on the shore; ones who looked much like them, and yet were so different all the same. And, yes, there was an underlying curiosity that made him want to go up there and see for himself, but he never actually went up there.
After all, who would go somewhere that’s supposedly so dangerous, so willingly? The way all of the adults around him would describe it made him believe that it was a death trap. That indulging in his curiosities would only lead to losing his own life, something that he was not exactly keen on doing.
At the same time, though, the want to go up and see for himself lingered. The more books Alhaitham read about these creatures–humans, as he’d recently learned from one of the books he found discarded on the ocean floor–the more he wants to pursue them; to find out everything he can. He catches himself yearning for it, at a point, before he realizes that perhaps he might seem a little crazy, and shoves his books away, trying not to think about it for the rest of the night as he makes a weak attempt at falling asleep.
Alhaitham’s grandmother was the only one who seemed to indulge in any of his curiosities. She would tell him stories of when she was a child herself, and let the curiosity get the better of her, making her way to the surface. Alhaitham always listened attentively, even if it was the same stories over and over again; even if they seemed over-exaggerated for his entertainment.
There was always a sad look in his grandmother’s eyes whenever she told these stories, though. Alhaitham could never pinpoint why that was. He could tell that she was likely hiding something about these stories, but his grandmother never told him, and he never asked.
Why ask if she wasn’t sharing willingly? Alhaitham determined that it must be something that his grandmother doesn’t want him to know.
That vagueness led him to believe that maybe there really was something out there that he shouldn’t see. And so, he never asked his grandmother what it was. Not even when she was on her deathbed, still smiling to herself and asking if he remembered all those stories that she used to tell him.
Alhaitham remembers her saying to him that if he were ever to go to the surface, to visit those places that she wishes so terribly that she could have gone. She spoke of a beautiful library among castle walls, filled with all the knowledge that one could ever ask for in a lifetime. A gorgeous view from a cliff, staring off into the open sea that she wishes she had the chance to see for herself, and perhaps capture the view in a drawing of her own.
Open, grassy fields, filled with beautiful wild flowers that matched the color of her eyes; eyes that were so similar to that of Alhaitham’s. Alhaitham has no idea who told her of these things, or if she merely read of them in a book, but he does not pry. It was the closest he ever got to finding out the full truth of his grandmother’s past before she closed her eyes for the last time, leaving him to himself, alone in the depths.
After that, Alhaitham’s curiosity died down significantly. He felt rather hollow once his grandmother passed, like there was a hole in his chest, one that left him feeling numb any time he tried to reach for those books he once found such fascination in. It made him feel uneasy just thinking about the surface and the humans that reside there.
There was a diary that Alhaitham’s grandmother left behind for him. One that she told him to read once he was ready. He could only nod through his tears when she told him, knowing very well that her time was coming, hardly able to focus on her words. And even now, ten years later, Alhaitham has not touched it. It remains sitting on a shelf beside where he sleeps, safely tucked beneath a few other trinkets he’d found ages ago that he couldn’t bring himself to part with.
To him, it just felt… wrong. Like an invasion of his grandmother’s privacy. He knows that he was given explicit permission to read it, but he couldn’t help but worry at the back of his mind that he wasn’t meant to read it; that he was supposed to leave it untouched, only serving as a memory of the stories he was so fond of as a child, and the one person he cared about the most.
So, with a hole in his chest and an ache in his heart, Alhaitham stopped indulging in these fantasies of his. He chose to believe that it wasn’t meant to be, and that whatever it was that was out there was better left unseen.
(Even if there was a feeling lingering inside him that told him otherwise.)
Alhaitham did still follow through with some of his grandmother’s wishes. He’s been living his life peacefully like she wrote in a book she gave to him years ago; he found a stable job nearby that keeps him comfortable, and he has his other books to keep him company. He’s content like this, even if it was a little lonely without her around, but he’s not all that fond of other people, so he never really tried to find anyone else to accompany him in his solitude.
He tells himself that it doesn’t bother him all that much, because it doesn’t. What was there to be upset over when he was living so comfortably? He took comfort within the words of books left behind in his grandmother’s study, and he felt at ease knowing that he could live the rest of his days like this, living the peaceful life that his grandmother wished for him.
(…But if that was true, then why was loneliness always clinging to him? Why was there always a faint ache in his chest at the thought of going back to an empty home, all alone save for the words plastered on paper that he’s read hundreds of times by now?
It was not something that Alhaitham was willing to look into, if only for the sake of keeping up the content and peaceful life that his grandmother hoped he’d be able to have.)
And so, Alhaitham’s life has gone on. He’s spent the last several years either working or reading at the library nearby, keeping to himself and not looking other people in the eye. The other merfolk have learned by this point that he does not want to be disturbed in his work, whether it’s for his actual job or something he found interest in that he decided to research for his own curiosity’s sake.
That is, at least, until he is forced to put down that peace for a while because of his job.
“Please explain why it has to be me that takes this job,” Alhaitham states, unimpressed. He’s staring at his boss expectantly, waiting for whatever excuse it is that she’s going to come up with for asking someone who doesn’t even work in deliveries to take on a delivery job. “Surely you have actual delivery people on staff that could take care of it better than me.”
“We– we do,” she says, fumbling over her words as she seems to start realizing that it may have been a mistake to ask Alhaitham of all people. “However, most of them called in sick today, and the ones that came in are rather swamped with work already– I really hate to ask this of you, but there truly is nobody else that can do it.”
It is true that it was busier around here these days, but to be so short staffed that she had to resort to asking Alhaitham to take on this delivery job? It really did feel and sound absurd.
The delivery in question wasn’t a very easy one, either. It would involve Alhaitham having to swim for at least three days to get to the destination and back, and that was only if he took no breaks in between. He can imagine it will take closer to four full days before he is able to be back in the comfort of his own home.
Torturous as that sounds, there are also some benefits to it, Alhaitham supposes. He could get some research done on the way, perhaps look for a few new things from the surface that fell to the ocean floor to add to his ever-growing collection of trinkets. And it’s been a while since he’s actually been outside of the city, so it couldn’t hurt to take a little longer than necessary examining the plants on the way that he’s been looking into recently…
With a soft sigh, Alhaitham relents. “Fine,” he says, and he can see the immediate relief on his boss's face when he agrees. “But I hope I’m being compensated for this. And I will be requesting a day of paid leave after I return since it is such a long journey.”
“Of course!” She agrees, and Alhaitham is certain that if she knew him better, she might have squeezed him to death in a hug. He nearly grimaces at the thought. “You’re set to leave a little later this evening. I’ll get all the necessary paperwork with information that you need. You should get home and pack your things in the meantime.”
And so, that’s how Alhaitham ended up on a four day trip to deliver some book to someone several cities over.
It’s not as if he hates it that much. His grandmother always told him that getting out of the house every now and again was a good idea, and that he should take in all the scenery whenever he had the chance. He wasn’t an artist like she was, but he did have fond memories of swimming to the outskirts of the city with her and watching her sketch, and taking his own time to trace the outline of the view and memorize it with his eyes.
And it was nice to be away from the noisiness of the city for once. He could take his time doing whatever he wanted, and there wouldn’t be anyone to interrupt him with some stupid question that could easily be answered if they took two more minutes to think about it.
He absolutely takes all the time in the world. Within the first few hours of leaving, he’s already filled up several pages of his notebook with notes about some of the plants and creatures that he’s come across, along with a few notes that he wouldn’t have put down if it weren’t for one of his coworkers talking about it the other day. It was mindless chatter, but it still left an impression on him, so he would share his findings with them once he returned.
Tighnari, Alhaitham thinks his name was. They don’t talk very often, but he was intelligent enough that it wasn’t dreadful to hold a conversation with him. He’d even call it pleasant if you dug hard enough and pried it out of him.
It gets more difficult to take his notes as the day goes on. The water is getting darker and darker, and it begins to get rather chilly; Alhaitham notes that it is likely a storm rolling in up on the surface. Still, though, he tries his best to squint at his notebook through the growing darkness, writing down what he could before it became too dark and he had to stop for the night.
Every second counted, after all. There was only so long he could dawdle before people started getting worried or suspicious about how long he was taking.
It becomes apparent that Alhaitham may have gotten a little too lost in his own thoughts when he realizes just how close to the surface he’s gotten. The current becomes harsher, and he watches as the fish he was studying swims away to deeper water with a small frown before he determines that this is probably where he should stop for the night.
However, before Alhaitham can swim back down to the ocean floor, something catches his eye.
There’s something floating at the surface of the water, something that Alhaitham has only had the pleasure of seeing in books before, way back when he was a child. There’s the familiar feeling of unease creeping up his spine at the thought that he got so distracted that he ended up so close to something like this; one of the things he was trying so desperately to avoid and leave in his past.
He should leave. He needs to set up camp and get ready for his early leave tomorrow to get to his destination. Yet… Alhaitham feels more uneasy at the prospect of leaving right now, and he can’t understand why.
The ship is shaking with the waves, and Alhaitham can’t tear his eyes away no matter how hard he tries. He clutches the strap of his bag to make sure it doesn’t get thrown off of him amidst the unsteady current, waiting with baited breath for something that he doesn’t even know of himself.
And then, it happens.
A loud boom rolls through even under the waves, and Alhaitham winces as he sees bits and pieces of the boat fall into the water. He swims back a bit, keen on getting back to the ocean floor so that he can avoid any debris that may be coming his way.
Before he can finally go through with that, though, there’s a splash nearby, and Alhaitham can vaguely make out a person falling into the water through the darkness. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he’s fumbling for a moment, trying to decide whether he should continue with his initial thought of swimming away, because truly what is there that he can do to help this person in the middle of the storm, especially with the anxiety churning in his gut at the thought of interacting with a human–
The last thing he fully registers is the outline of deep, crimson eyes as he firmly takes hold of the stranger and quickly swims to the direction that he thinks the shore is in.
After that, it’s all a blur.