Chapter Text
Orange eyes peer around the rock before him. They watch the son of clay and air as he races across the beach, dark hair and dark skin shining from the ocean’s gentle spray. A white dog yaps at his heels as he kicks sand into the air. Dirk smiles faintly at the son of clay and air. He is made of earth and his smile is as bright as the dancing lights that twirl above the surface brightening the floor below. He is pure and warmth and not of the Sea.
His laugh peals off the waves, a deep brassy sound. It’s beautiful like the rest of him. He laughs as the dog catches him and causes him to trip. He falls, sand sticking to his wet skin as the dog licks his face then yaps in his ears. Dirk wonders what it’s like to touch the Son of Clay. He is beautiful.
Dirk watches as an old woman comes from the tree line, Jake, she calls, her voice deep but full of bells and piano keys. She’s ancient in her years, but her youth is still there in the twinkle of her eyes and her own full bodied laugh. Come to dinner, get packed.
The Son of Clay, Jake, smiles at his elder. Yes, gran, he says. His voice full of the timbre and brass melody that his laugh tells of. He is beautiful.
They turn and disappear into the tree line voices fading as the sun sets. Dirk’s smile leaves his face as Jake and Gran leave. They vanish and he is left alone.
He was always alone in some way or form, he’d watched generations of that same family grow up on that island, the little girl who is now the old woman, once young and beautiful with thick black curls that hung to her waist -now gray and tied back- firing a rifle with her grandfather. Swimming in the of this lagoon while dirk kept a watchful eye over her. Just like he did with the beauty that was her grandson.
He’d watched her grandfather and his son grow up on this island, he watched them forever, but never has he felt compelled to talk to them. Learn about them. Acquaint himself of the Sons of Clay and Daughters of Air that inhabited this island and swam in his ocean fed lagoon.
Years pass and neither return, he spends his summers in the warm waters watching for the pair to return. He eagerly waits just below the surface, listening for the splash of little feet in the water, the yapping of the dog as she races along with Jake.
Each summer that passes losing hope with each one that passes without hair nor tail of the pair. Darkness encroaches on his mind, drowning him in his own sadness. Lonliness freezing itself in his veins refusing to allow warmth to find its way into his blood.
Falling deeper to the depths of his own turmoil. Never had he been truly alone, not in many many years. Someone always came back. But it didn’t seem like they were. They were gone. They were not coming back for him to watch and admire.
He spends his nights watching the shore with bright impatient eyes, longing for the Son of Clay’s laugh to peal off the waves and echo over the shore like a symphony of the deepest brass. It never comes.
He looks for the dark skin to appear from the treeline. His bright, beautiful smile to light the dark nights. The eyes bright and full of joy to look out over the shore before the white dog bursts from the trees behind him, chase him through the water and swim with him. Playing a pseudo guardian to the boy. It never comes. Dirk wallows and waits and no one ever comes.
He spends his days watching for the old woman to return, her bright green eyes the color of the grass that grew on the shore is spring, eyes that seem to know he was always there despite having never seen him. Eyes that had scanned the water looking for what she could not see but knew was there.
They never come and Dirk stops waiting for them to come back. Instead spending his days under the surface in the caves that lay in the bottom of his waters, hunting for things of interest and finding nothing.
Nothing held his captivation like the family that would visit did. He stops visiting the surface, instead lurking at the bottom waiting for nothing. Hoping one day he’d hear the splash of children in his waters again. The laughter of boys ringing through the water, the giggles of girls echoing in his soul. It never comes.
He turns bitter over the years, bitter at the fact he had been left alone. Bitter that he’d never had the courage to speak, to come out from behind the rock he’d hid. Angry that he had bothered with the Daughters of Air and Sons of Clay. They were fleeting and now they were gone for good.
And yet, he still recalled the Son of Clay, Jake, he was beautiful and kind and was the light that shined beyond the reaches of the sun. He was beautiful. Just as all of his ancestors were. But as much as he wishes that beauty would grace his shores again, it never does.
Instead a small ship, rocking on the waters that had protected the Family of Clay and Air, moves slowly and disturbs the waves that attempt to carry it across. Cutting them in half and disrupting the flow of the waters in a way the children never had. It feels like it’s scratching his scales backwards, pulling them back like it’s trying to pull them off. The feeling is awkward and unpleasant and nearly painful.
Bitter and indignant that someone would dare bring a ship into his waters, Dirk swims up to it and begins rocking it side to side. Bumping it as he swims in circles under it, asking the waters to move it and tip it. Waves reach over the side and hit the bottom as it’s occupant stands. One last nudge from Dirk and the ship tips, it’s owner falling into the water with a cry.
The boy kicks for the surface and Dirk grabs his ankle, dragging him down. How dare this human disregard his courtesy. How dare he bring a boat on the waters that had protected so many. How dare he disrupt his...his what? His years of moping? His self induced exile from the surface?
The boy continues kicking trying to swim away from what waits for him at the bottom. What does wait for him at the bottom? Death? But why would he kill him? He did nothing besides bring a boat into waters he didn’t know belongs to someone else.
Dirk slows his descent, stopping he grabs the boy’s hand and drags him to be eye-level with him. Staring into frightened, wide eyes the color of the trees that lined the shore. Green eyes that belonged to the Son of Clay that had been chased by the dog years ago.
Startled he let the boy go and watched as he kicked for the surface, the pathetic attempt at swimming weak from oxygen deprivation and the adrenaline crash, he was absolutely pathetic in his get away.
Dirk swam up and grabbed his hand and dragged him to the surface, letting him cough the water from his mouth and stomach before disappearing back under the waves, keeping watch over the Son of Clay as he made his way to shore.
Dirk swam to hide behind his rock, the boy was older, so was the dog. The dog now heavy and lazy, lounging on the shore while Jake stares out over the shore looking for what dragged him down, then guided him up before he could drown.
He is still beautiful. He is no longer the boy that raced on the shore, spraying sand behind him. He his broad shouldered and muscular, years of time spent in the sun had left him dark and glasses now rested on his face as he pulled them from bag he left on shore.
“That was awfully buggering rude.” He calls out, his voice deeper and leaves the feeling of thunder. “Trying to drown me like that wasn’t very funny you siren. Now why don’t you come out rather than hide you orange rag doll.”
Dirk waits a moment, he had been angry that he’d never bothered to speak to the Sons of Clay, and now one knew of his presence and was calling him out to talk to him. Why is he still afraid? Jake can do no harm to him. Not in the water. He can out swim him and dive deeper than he could dream to go. If he grabbed him he could drag him down and drown him before he had the chance to let go.
Steeling himself for a breath he peered out from behind the rock, “Bringing a boat into waters that are not yours is rude as well.” Dirk’s voice is even and soft. Gentle as the surface of the lagoon, yet carries without much volume, the voice of a siren, pure and ringing.
“Well seeing as I was here before you, I’d say you’re the one in waters that don’t belong to you.” The boy snapped. Dirk raised an eyebrow at him before squinting.
“I watched your gran’s gran’s gran grow up here. I was here first. No more boats.” With that he turned and disappeared into the water, his tail splashing behind him.