Chapter Text
Zanka wonders if he has always dreamed in shades of gold. Of a heat so gentle, it chases away the bone chilling grasp of the sea.
Ever since learning of the surface as a child, Zanka has been fascinated. The cold dark depths of the sea have never felt like home, but just knowing an entire world existed above him, waiting to be explored, gave his younger self hope. He often spoke about his desires to venture to the surface back then, but had only been met with disdain every time. His odd interests make him nothing more than a disappointment to his family, while the other merfolk in his colony treat him like a pariah. There is no warmth to be found there.
The surface is a dangerous place, after all. Those who ventured too close were dragged from the sea by monstrous creatures waiting beyond the surface, never to return. It is a warning all merfolk are told from a young age, and for Zanka it is a lesson he learned first-hand after sneaking away to venture to the surface in search of that golden warmth one too many times. The scarring from becoming entangled in one of the monster’s traps is a permanent reminder of the dangers lurking beyond the surface and how he could never have what he truly longs for.
He is far more careful now, only surfacing when that golden light dims into a silvery glow. The silver, while better than the pitch dark of the depths, doesn’t feel the same. It’s too cool on his skin and scales. There is no warmth.
Still, even as his hand traces the place where several of the iridescent scales are missing, he can’t help the longing he feels for that golden light that once warmed his skin.
Sighing slightly, Zanka begins his nightly ritual of rising to the surface. His powerful tail sluices through the cold water as he takes a different route than usual to avoid the majority of the leftover carnage from the earlier storm that had felled one of the surface’s monsters. Pieces of its massive body were strewn throughout the waters just outside of his colony’s territory. Strange items Zanka couldn’t even begin to make sense of float past him with the current, sinking to the sea floor never to be recovered by their owners. Not that it much matters, Zanka thinks to himself. The strange creatures that accompany the surface monsters, or what was left of them, no longer have any need for their belongings. The sharks had made sure of that.
Zanka’s nose wrinkles as the smell of blood still lingers strongly in the water. He pushes onward, increasing his speed. The sea held many dangers as well. The chaos storms like this one create always attract predators to feed on those unfortunate enough to be caught up in it. While Zanka could hold his own against a shark, he’d rather not ruin his night dealing with those mindless bottom feeders.
As Zanka ascends, he can see the silver glow slowly growing until he breaches the surface, bathing himself in it. The silver glow above him is brighter than usual tonight, illuminating remnants of the monster’s body, throwing shadows across the waves around him. The current must have been strong to pull some of the wreckage this far out.
Ignoring the pieces around him , Zanka closes his eyes, turning his face upward to bask in the glow. Sometimes, if he clears his mind enough, he can almost imagine the silver is golden instead. Zanka begins his quiet meditation, focusing on the memory of that fleeting warmth from so long ago.
As he finally begins to feel the ghost of warmth on his skin, the sound of movement to the right of him breaks his concentration. Zanka tries to ignore the sound, dismissing it as more wreckage on the waves, as he wills his mind to refocus. However, the sound of movement grows closer, forcing Zanka to break his meditation completely. The last thing he needs is a shark still lingering from earlier sneaking up on him to take a bite out of his tail.
Annoyed by the interruption, Zanka opens his eyes to look for the source of the noise. To his surprise, there is a large piece of wreckage ahead to the right, still too far to see clearly but steadily floating nearer. As the object grows closer, Zanka’s curiosity increases. Knowing he won’t be able to concentrate now, Zanka cautiously swims closer. As Zanka, approaches, the object becomes clearer, revealing its odd shape to be more than just a piece of wreckage. There is something on top of it. Something that is moving slightly. Something alive.
Zanka quickly hides beneath the waves. The shock of his discovery causing his chest to tighten. After a couple of tense moments in which nothing happens, Zanka’s curiosity gets the better of him again. He raises his head ever so slightly above the water, just enough to see the object and what is clearly one of those strange creatures on it.
The creature is strewn over the floating object, unmoving except the gentle rise and fall of its breathing. Slipping under the waves again, Zanka slowly approaches from beneath. He quietly breaches the surface next to the object, peering up to get a better look. The creature appears to be lying on its front, face not visible. The creature’s anatomy is strange, to say the least, yet also familiar. Zanka’s head tilts as he examines the creature’s body. It has a head, torso, and arms like his own but that’s where the similarities stop. The creature has what appears to be two tails instead of one, but devoid of any type of fin. There is also something strange covering its body. Zanka wonders if these are its scales. Or maybe it doesn’t have scales at all? The only way to know for sure would be to reach out and touch the creature.
Warning bells sound in Zanka’s head. The instinct to flee beneath the surface is strong, but he resists. This was what he has always wanted, isn’t it? Exploring an unknown world and learning new things? How could he let this once in a lifetime opportunity quite literally slip between his fingers?
Swallowing his fear, Zanka steadies himself with one hand on the piece of wreckage while he raises his other hand to feel the creature’s strange scales. In his haste though, Zanka fails to notice the waves getting choppier. One particularly strong wave rocks the floating object rougher than before, causing Zanka to become unbalanced. In his panic, Zanka reaches to grab onto the object but misses when a wave crashes into them again, and instead grabs onto the creature itself. The creature groans, rolling away slightly.
Zanka immediately stills, not even daring to breathe. Frozen in fear, he waits for what he’s sure is his imminent demise, muscles tense, eyes squeezing shut. The panic builds. His heart feels like it might burst out of his chest from how fast it’s beating.
And then, nothing happens. Zanka waits and waits, and still nothing happens. His hand now resting on the creature’s chest moves up and down gently in time with its breathing.
As the silence stretches on, Zanka finally lets out the breath he had been holding. He waits longer, just to be sure. Long enough for the panic to bleed out of him as his breathing returns to normal then syncs with the creature’s, gently in and out.
Zanka musters what’s left of his courage and cracks his eyes open, only to feel breathless all over again. The rolling had caused the creature’s face to become uncovered, illuminated in the silver glow. Zanka would describe the face as beautiful if the very thought didn’t make his heart skip a beat and his face flush red.
The facial structure seems to be similar to that of a merperson, and, ever the tempter of fate, Zanka can’t resist reaching towards the creature, eyes focusing on the curve of its cheek. Zanka’s hand cups the creature’s face at the same time his thumb caresses the skin of its cheek and he gasps in surprise. The skin isn’t cold like his, it’s…
“Warm.”
His voice is loud in the silence. Loud enough to stir the creature from its slumber.
Zanka’s eyes snap up in time to see the eyes of the strange, warm creature softly flutter open. As their eyes meet, Zanka immediately knows he will never be the same, could never be the same; the trajectory of his life radically changing in real time, never to return to what it was.
Zanka used to wonder if he has always dreamed in shades of gold, of a warmth so gentle it chases away the bone chilling grasp of the sea. But as he stares into those eyes, he wonders if what he has been dreaming of for so long could ever be considered gold in comparison to the molten hue burning into him now.
A blazing inferno ignites his very core, reforging everything he once knew, and for the first time in his life, Zanka feels warm.