Chapter Text
The Soulmark Song
Chase was born with a promise
written across his skin.
Not ink.
Not scars.
Words.
A thin line of lyrics
curving along his collarbone
like the tide had written them there.
Every merman knew what it meant.
A soulmark.
A human song.
A melody meant to be sung
on quiet shores
when moonlight silvered the water
and footsteps wandered too close
to the tide.
Not cruel, they always said.
Just nature.
Humans were curious creatures.
Songs brought them closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Until the water took them.
Chase practiced the melody
for years.
Soft notes that drifted over the waves,
gentle as foam against the sand.
When he finally sang it for real,
the sound spread across the night
like something alive.
And someone came.
A human man walking slowly
toward the water,
eyes distant
like he was following a dream.
Chase watched from beneath the surface.
It worked,
he thought.
The soulmark always worked.
The man stepped into the tide.
One step.
Then another.
But as the human came closer,
Chase noticed something strange.
The man’s coat was worn thin.
His boots cracked with salt and age.
His hands trembled slightly
when the cold water touched them.
Chase tilted his head.
Humans were supposed to arrive
in fine clothing sometimes.
Jewelry.
Perfume.
Pretty things.
This one looked… tired.
Chase surfaced slowly.
The human gasped.
Not running.
Not screaming.
Just staring.
“…you’re real,” the man whispered.
Chase blinked.
Of course he was real.
Why would he sing
if he wasn’t?
But something about the human’s voice
sounded fragile.
So Chase did what he believed
was proper.
He dove beneath the water again.
When he returned
his arms were full of glittering things.
Coins
green with age.
Rings
that once belonged to drowned kings.
Pearls still tangled in coral.
He placed them carefully
at the human’s feet
in the wet sand.
A courting gift.
A good one.
The kind merfolk legends spoke about.
The human stared down at the treasure
like the world had cracked open.
“…for me?” he asked hoarsely.
Chase smiled brightly.
Of course.
Soulmates deserved gifts.
The man returned the next night.
And the next.
Each time Chase brought more.
Gold from broken ships.
Silver cups
still holding echoes of old feasts.
Jewels that caught moonlight
like frozen stars.
The human always looked amazed.
Always grateful.
Always asking for just a little more.
“For our future,” he said once.
Chase liked the sound of that.
Years passed.
The human stopped looking poor.
Fine coats replaced the old one.
Rings gleamed on his fingers now.
Still, he came to the shore.
Still, Chase sang softly for him.
One evening the human smiled
in a different way.
“I want to show you something,” he said.
Chase tilted his head.
“Come a little farther out.”
Boats rocked gently nearby.
Chase trusted him.
Soulmates were meant to trust.
He swam closer.
The net closed above him.
Ropes tightened.
Men shouted.
Chase thrashed, tail striking water
that suddenly felt too small.
“Careful!” the human barked from the deck.
“Don’t damage him!”
Chase froze.
The voice sounded… proud.
Excited.
Not loving.
Later, when the water was gone
and iron bars surrounded the tank
inside a vast stone estate,
Chase finally understood.
His soulmate stood before the glass,
rich clothes shimmering in candlelight.
All the treasure
had built this place.
This prison.
“You’re extraordinary,” the man said softly,
touching the glass.
“I knew if I played along long enough
you’d trust me.”
Chase floated silently in the dim water.
The soulmark still burned faintly
against his skin.
Lyrics meant to lure.
Lyrics meant to bind.
He had sung them faithfully.
And the song had worked.
Just not the way
any merman
had ever imagined.