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There’s mud under his fingernails, salt-thick and glistening. Beneath his feet the flecks of quartz in the sandy gravel catch the light every so often, timed to the sweep of beams from the lighthouse valiantly fighting the darkest clouds of the storm. Jayce should not be out in this weather; words of his mama reminding him in memory’s ear that he’ll catch a cold. The rocks are slick with the froth and coughed-up seaweed from unrelenting waves, and Jayce’s boots have seen better days. He stumbles every third step, his knees bruised blue, but determination wins over pain. His heavy shadowed scruff tells the time even if his journal entries leading to this day somehow lost their meticulous dates. He has waited. It has to be tonight.
He shoves the drowned strands of his hair out of his eyes for the umpteenth time, patience worn down to a taut fishing line, but he continues forward. Another wave hungrily bites at the shore, the toothsome edges of it bright as the beam sweeps across the sea again. His luck is poor between the storm and churning tide, but his destination shouldn’t be flooded below sea level for another few hours. Jayce’s hopes are pinned on his calculations, his steady notes, his theories propped up as best as he could through first hand observations. He left nothing to chance. And yet clouds rolled in, dark and heavy, uncaring of Jayce’s careful plans.
He toes along the tilted path, clutching the slate wall as he descends down from the lighthouse cliff. It’s difficult on a sunbright day, near impossible in sleeting grey, but Jayce lowers inch by hard-won inch, working his way to a jut of dark rock some feet below him. The waves crash again, reaching for him and catching his ankles, but thankfully they don’t drag him further down, only push him against the small cliff's edge he now stands. It’s a welcome mat, just wide enough for one person; the front door to a dark mouth unseen from any shore angle unless you knew exactly where to look. A cave.
Jayce lifts the flap of the small leather satchel strapped across his torso. He didn’t pack much, preferring to keep light on his feet and the best of his notes safe away from being rotted wet, but among his few things Jayce fetches a handheld oil lantern and a small tin of matches. He is not afraid of the dark, or whatever may hide inside the cave maw. What he fears in life is more nebulous than any monster of the deep, and so Jayce eagerly steps into the unlit cavern, keeping his back facing outward to block the storm. With the wind and torrent off his arms, he quickly gets to work lighting his lantern. He needs to confirm he is right. The nerves make him lose two matches before the third strikes true, and soon a warm glow pulses against the gloom he has entered. The cave feels a few degrees warmer as Jayce ventures further in, but perhaps it is only the absence of constant rain. All his maps and research have brought him this far, but now he must rely on the less historical of his books: the folk and fairy tales. Very few have written accounts of what lies in this cave. Jayce cannot wait to add his own journal of adventure to the shelf, his family name signed on every page. But first he must discover with his own eyes what he already believes in every fiber to be true.
He swings his arm up to spill the lantern flame across the curves of the space. The damp floor offers a fractured mirror to send a scattering of light like footsteps in front of him. He follows deeper into the cavern, his path changing here and there when met with a tooth of stalagmite in his way. He wants to pause to scrape the wall with a tool, to sketch a map, to bag the strange blue moss in the corners. Instead he speeds up, rushing towards a greater destination, a destiny he has sacrificed time and sanity for.
The curved tunnel suddenly opens into a larger expanse. Jayce’s lantern is dwarfed against this newfound damp dark, a single match against a sea. The warm light swings in his hand and the wall nearest to him echoes back a sweep of blue stars. It’s like glitter embedded in the rock, catching the small flame Jayce gives it and refracting back a thousandfold. His gasp is involuntary; it is beautiful, and it is the beginning of proof. He runs his fingers over the nearest vein and a swirl of bright blue seems to pulse and rise to meet his touch. He blinks, briefly uncertain of what is real and what is tricks in this flickering lightscape. Now he does reach back into his satchel for a glass vial and a scalpel. He needs to take a quick sample before—
Jayce’s second gasp is of a different tone. All his discoveries are tumbling into one terrible, wonderful moment. He is not alone. He can hear it now, growing louder as he steps further into the space. There are dull scrapes and thumping sounds from the other side of the cavern. The source, some creature, is low to the ground and facing away, working on something Jayce cannot see. It is a miracle he hasn’t disturbed the creature from their task yet; either he has been just quiet enough, or the figure is as single minded on a task as Jayce can be. Despite implausibility and impossibility, he knows what creature this is. No book he pored over offered a more precise description than one of terrible beauty, of shark teeth and translucent skin, of lithe limbs that can both caress and claw. The creature before him is all of this and much more.
Jayce can feel his heartbeat push into his throat, and he remembers almost distantly that his body should breathe, and he inhales a long shaky stutter. He slides a foot forward, then another, trying to imagine himself gliding rather than walking. He angles himself along the wall, trying to approach close enough to see over the creature’s shoulder at the work in their busy hands. They keep thwacking something against the rocks, but Jayce can only make assumptions based on sound, not sight. His lantern is held crooked behind him, hoping to keep the light from disturbing his stealth. The scatter remains just enough to illuminate the edges of a few more details. The creature has a back of pale skin, the vertebrae of the spine bumpy and prominent, increasing into a ridge near what would be the human hips and flowing down into the tail. There is no harsh difference between skin and scale; the tail a green-grey sheen like a bleached abalone, with a row of near-translucent spines running into the curve of the bottom fins. Jayce is tense with curiosity, his mind firing with a million investigations at once, and held back only due to the delicacy of the situation. One book told of the capability of speech, but the danger of hearing any words the creature may say. Another warned of hypnotic eyes that glow like a lure. All his books spoke of an intelligence like a predator animal but Jayce suspected it is something much more. His eyes flick to the blue glitter again, the veins of this cave threaded with a material he has dreamed of since he was a small child. The creature may be here for the same reason as him, and that is more than mere animal instinct.
The thumping has stopped. Jayce feels his skin shiver into goose flesh despite the balmy air of his surroundings. Something is wrong, he knows, and can only try and react fast enough. He swings his lantern in front of him, and there is a twin flash as two eyes shine in reflection. All the words of the folk tales rush to abandon him and Jayce stares unflinchingly as the creature looks back. Because that is all they do. They don't leap at him with claws out, or throw rocks intending to harm. Their eyes, oddly contrasting their skin with a warm amber color, are wide and unblinking as they take in Jayce. He lowers his flickering lantern slowly, trying to relax his posture into something non-threatening. He cannot change who he is, tall and wide as he looms over the creature still splayed on the ground. He can only shrug himself smaller and hope his body won’t betray and ruin this fragile peace.
Jayce blinks first. Then suddenly the creature is moving, arms thrown sideways to cover whatever they have been doing, the tail uncoiling and stretching out. Those gemstone eyes narrowed, and a glint of sharp teeth shine in the slightly open mouth. Jayce senses they are trying to seem intimidating, but he’s far more distracted by their face. None of the illustrated research books conveyed how much human is in the description of humanoid. Or how ethereal their beauty is, cheekbones and nose like carved marble, delicate lips like an oil painting. Maybe the hypnosis isn’t just in their eyes… and that stray thought yanks Jayce’s logic back to the struggling surface. He tears his eyes away and down to the ground behind the creature’s arms. There he spots a chunk of rock, larger than a coconut, with a fissure along its surface. The sounds—
“Were you trying to open it?” Jayce completely forgets his situation, curiosity roaring to life.
The creature bends with a grimace, leaning further over their work.
Jayce sinks down onto the chilly ground, setting the light behind him. He raises both his hands, wondering if this creature understands the near universal sign of surrender. “I don’t want to take it from you. You can relax.”
The creature’s torso shakes with rapid breaths. Jayce is no marine biologist, he cannot tell if they are an idiomatic fish out of water, or if he is making them nervous with his presence. He lets his eyes flutter shut, pulling from all his childhood memories of his mama telling him to slow down, of his school psychologists suggesting he quietly count. With some effort, when he reopens his eyes he is still and simply waiting.
He doesn’t know how many prolonged minutes pass before the creature straightens up. There seems to be some relief as they do so, flexing their arms and rubbing at them, no longer tensely perched to hide their work. Jayce tries not to glance at the rock; they seem hesitant to resume with Jayce present, and yet there is an impatience to their body language, a twitch to their hands that Jayce recognizes.
“Are you trying to crack it?” He can’t help but ask again.
The creature narrows their eyes. They gather a few surrounding items, bringing them closer while trying to hold their gaze on Jayce. They line the objects up, then jut their chin at him. He knows he can’t assume human expression on a non-human, but it feels like an issued challenge. There is the indented rock, a chunk of brassy scrap metal with dust along its sharp point, a torn piece of stained canvas Jayce assumes is sail cloth, and a small coil of rope.
“Is there something inside?” Jayce leans in, hands now on his knees as he gets closer to the objects.
The creature makes a high hum noise, like affirmative surprise. Jayce grins, it seems like his guess is aimed true. He glances around the glistening cave floor. There is a scattering of other loose rocks, but none as large as the one the creature has. They must have searched for this size specifically, perhaps for a better chance of whatever prize it holds. It doesn’t take much connecting thought for Jayce to ask, “Is it this?” He taps the closest vein on the wall.
The creature stares at him. Then after a long moment of stillness, they nod.
“Holy shit.” Jayce whispers. If this inconspicuous rock is actually an untapped chunk of the blue from his dreams, it is much more significant than anything he could scrape from the walls. It is his turn for his breathing to grow rapid.
The creature reaches one milky hand out and drags the semi-cleft stone closer to themselves. The hunch is returning, muscles tense like they are readying to spring away.
Jayce cannot hide his interest, not when his eyes are half watering with the possibilities flickering through his mind. He digs his hands into his own thighs, letting the sharp pain of his nails force his mask of stillness back on.
“I can help you.”
The hand on the rock doesn’t move, only drags one clawed nail catching and skittering inside the crack. The creature tilts their head.
“It’s harder with only two hands, I could help hold it still while you use this—“ he gestures to the metal. “Or I could try hitting it. I’m strong.” Jayce wonders how much speech the creature knows, or if the strained desperation in his voice is clear to any ear above or below water.
The crack is still shallow, the creature watches as their nail only dips a half inch in.
Jayce needs this. “How long did it take you to do that surface scratch?” He needs this. “I am clearly stronger than you.”
The creature snaps their jaw at him, teeth much closer than expected, their speed incentivized by Jayce’s prodding. His pulse is thumping in his throat, he wonders if the creature can see it moving.
“How badly do you want what’s inside?”
There’s copper in his mouth. Jayce is vaguely aware he’s biting the inside of his cheek to contain all his unused momentum. He came here to find a miracle, and he found two. And now there is a world in which he could walk out with a godlike boon, with or without his second discovery’s help. His gaze flicks to the rock and back into the golden eyes of the creature. He’d prefer to leave them alive, to study them, to make those folktales quake with new proof. But… the blue gemstone, the magic, he cannot leave that behind no matter the cost.
Those amber eyes stare, translucent second eyelids blink as they regard Jayce.
Jayce shifts his weight off his knees as subtly as he can. If he can stand up fast enough, and with his metal lantern he’ll have an advantage—
The creature pushes the rock towards Jayce, one eyebrow lifted.
The sigh of relief slumps Jayce’s whole body. “Okay. Okay, that’s great. Thank you.” He reaches for the stone. “How do you want to do this?”
They wiggle a little, rotating their tail and body to face Jayce directly. He can’t help but observe the way the tail slightly drags on the ground, the fin catching on the gravel before lifting up over it. A weakness perhaps. He notes it; wondering again what exactly brought the creature to this cave.
Jayce picks up the rock, smooth side against his palm and the rough indent facing down. The creature pushes the twisted piece of metal between them both, the scrape against the cave floor echoing shrilly in the space. They grip the smoother sides of the metal, holding it firmly against the ground.
Jayce’s mind is already whirring with angle and strength calculations. “Understood.” He murmurs. He spreads his knees further in triangulation, his shins pressed steady against the floor. Jayce tenses his muscles as he lifts the rock above his head with both hands. He is a meteor, he is a lightning strike, he is a hammer. With a yell, he drives his arms down with all his weight behind them, aiming the rock against the metal edge. A thunderous sound explodes in the cave. Jayce vaguely senses something breaking beneath his palms, but his mind is wiped of any further thoughts as blinding electric white light pulses in front of him and sends him flying back.
Wet presses against his cheek. Jayce groans, his lungs like dried husks as he tries to pull a breath in. He forces his eyes open, his eyelashes caked with unknown weight. He raises a hand to scrape at whatever is on his face and he’s met with throbbing pain. His head rolls to look down and he grimaces. Loose rubble and mud now cover his whole body, his back sharply pressed against the cave wall, and his arms spotted dark with fresh bruises. Something slaps at his cheek again and he peers to the side. The creature is there, a sodden canvas scrap being wiped against his face, their hand shaking as they grip the washcloth.
“What—“ Jayce pauses a moment to cough. There's a metallic taste under his tongue. “Happened?”
An object is pressed into his open palm. Jayce sits up quickly, too quickly, he clutches his ribs to hold against the stabbing sensation, but all pain is forgotten as he beholds the fruit of such intense labors. The rock is split. Inside is a geode, a fractal bouquet of a million shades of blue, eating the light that hits it and spitting out flashes of cyan and indigo and cobalt. The crystalline points spiral towards a center that seems to fluidly move, but when Jayce presses a finger to it, he is met with a slick glass surface. Unrefined, raw and powerful. He is holding a hundred lifetime’s worth of possibility; what barriers dare remain in the face of pure magic?
There’s a quiet clink as the creature holds up the other half of the geode and knocks it against Jayce’s hand.
“One for me, one for you huh? That’s only fair.” He can’t stop grinning. The blue glitters brightly where the halves are pressed together. When he pulls his hand back again, it’s like a mirror catching rays of the sun. He follows the sparkle of cyan as he looks into the creature’s eyes.
It is the most human they have looked all night. The smile wide and crooked, the eyes scrunched up from the force of it. There’s asymmetry to the features, Jayce can see it now. Moles unique in their scatter, a dimple only on one side. Beautiful, yes, but tangibly so. Jayce’s arm is moving before his mind can jump to stop it. He clasps the creature’s shoulder, his palm meeting a surprisingly warm expanse of soft skin.
“We did it.” He taps their rocks together again like champagne glasses to celebrate their win. “Thank you.”
The creature pulls their rock back and presses it against their chest, hugging it to themself. They don’t shrug away from Jayce’s touch, almost too dazed to even notice.
“Thann—kyou.” It’s like water receding from shore, a soft rumble Jayce feels through his hand more than hears.
“Oh.” He smiles. “So you do speak?”
There’s a shudder in the cave and the creature whips its head to look up to the ceiling.
“Go!” They screech, voice becoming wind whipping through a sail. “Go!”
Jayce looks at the blue geode, then really takes in the rubble he’s collapsed into. The explosion must have done something to their surroundings, to the delicate cave system he is —with sudden frightening realization— trapped deeply inside. He scrambles up, his legs shaky but gratefully still functioning. He shoves the rock into his satchel and starts running, tripping over chunk after fallen chunk he is now worryingly cataloging as he rushes out of the cavern. Then he stops, mud splattering out before him. Jayce turns around and starts to sprint back. The creature is so slow on land, their tail offering little support as their arms pull them through the space. Jayce cannot leave them, it is not a win to his conscience if this magic is tainted with death. He cannot abandon his partner in discovery.
The creature sees him running back and growls. “No!” They shake their head, violently sending their lank curls whipping back and forth.
“I’m going to help you.” Jayce leans down, sliding his arms around their shoulders to prop them up. “Get on my back, I’ll carry you.”
Teeth snap at his fingers. “Off.” They wriggle in Jayce’s clasp. “Bad, go!”
“I’m trying to save you!” Jayce grips them against his side, half-dragging and half-walking them both through the cavern.
He can feel a deep throated vibration from the creature, displeased and upset at their circumstances. They stop fighting Jayce, but don’t put any energy into moving, becoming leaden weight being dragged.
“Not smart.” They mutter.
“Why are you being so stubborn?” Jayce snaps, his muscles flex and pull at the creature. “Do you want to die?”
The creature goes quiet, almost unbreathing against Jayce’s arms. He twists to look at them, but they hide their amber eyes away.
After too long of a moment. “No.” A soft reply like a trickle of rain on a window. “Do you?”
Jayce is strong, but he is also hurt, and his newly imposed limits puncture his breathing with raggedy gasps. He pauses in his steps, clutching the wall for a moment until his vision refocuses. He can’t reply. He can’t find the breath or the truth to give the creature any words back.
There’s another disorienting shaking, a real one, not borne from Jayce’s struggling lungs. He starts to lower the creature back onto the ground.
“I’m sorry.” He feels a chasm open between them, something deeply human flooding his veins. Shame. “I am so sorry.”
The creature only shakes their head. They do not seem sad, only tired. “Leave fast, go.”
Jayce restarts his feet running before his struggling thoughts can stop him again. He forces his eyes forward, trying to pretend the tunnel is a running trail, and this is simply his morning routine. He's trying to beat his last best mile, to shave off a few more seconds, to push his legs past their limit and prove himself. There’s no mud, that’s just sandy gravel. There’s no dark, only the rising dawn as he sprints to meet the sun’s cresting. There’s no water— his imagination slips. There’s so much water, his boots slapping against and into it, the damp inches now risen to ankle level. A few more paces forward, he’s met with calf high tide. It’s moving too fast, the cave an eager vacuum and the ocean happy to fill it. He’s not going to make it.
But he has to. He cannot die here, not with the culmination of years of work tucked against his chest. Jayce can change the world with this much magic, he has to live to see it. He refuses to let his research be swept away, for no one to know how far he has come. His arms push against the wall to help keep him upright as he fights against the knee high pool. Jayce’s memory is stellar, but in his panic he cannot remember how much farther there is to go. He has to keep moving.
And keep moving.
And start swimming.
Arm over arm, legs kicking with all the energy he can draw.
And keep going.
His head is scraping the ceiling, inches of air left. It can’t be much farther. He has to keep swimming. He has to, he needs to—
He can’t breathe.
They are much faster in the water than they are on rocky ground. The slowest of his pod, but still much faster than a body that has stopped moving. The creature rushes to the man’s side, hooking underneath his arm and gripping at the strap around his torso. And they start to swim, a rocket of bubbles behind them as their tail propels them forward. With heartbreak they see the human almost made it, the cave mouth spilling out into the wider waters only a two minute swim further at this speed. Their tail is microdosing lightning strikes, twinges of pain increasing with every movement, but they are so close. They can do this, they can be the rescue not the doom.
Time trickles horribly, the storm blocking the direction of the moon, so they have to put all trust in the flicker of light they hope to be the landmark lighthouse. The currents are roiling but they cut smoothly through, forward and forward and forward, the pain building, their lungs burning, then suddenly air smacks their face as they crest through the surface. It’s a struggle to stay buoyant with the weight of the human. The creature pulls the human’s head above water, smacking at their back.
“Breathe you big fool, breathe!” Their voice is clearer full of the ocean, salt on their tongue accenting their native language. “Tides, you are heavy.” They swear, and see no choice but to find a way to shore. They wrap their arms with difficulty around the breadth of the human’s torso, keeping his head above water, and start to steer them both through the churning waves. Their body aches from the exertion, so they dig their claws into the human’s shirt like an anchor, and push all their energy into keeping their tail moving. There is a dip in the cliffside behind the lighthouse, a hidden shored alcove that could be the lifesaver they need away from the stormy seas. They have watched human boats come and go many times from that grey beach, never spotted by unkind eyes, so it should be safe enough. With a destination focused in their mind, they kick and tug and struggle, but they swim until they think they cannot, and then swim some more. The water grows shallow, the creature scrambles more than sidestrokes, and makes it onto the narrow shore dragging the human with them. Finally out of the clingy demands of the salt sea and downpour, the creature lays the body flat on the gravel and presses their ear to the human’s chest. Not breathing. They let out an agonized whine, then quickly take a few deep breaths themselves. There’s a book, some diagrams, drawings of figures the creature never thought they’d have to remember and repeat. Their mind is sharp even if practical application hasn’t arisen before, but the time to learn is now. There is no choice: they will try and save the human. It has to work.
The creature leans over the human, one hand gingerly pinches the nose shut and they press their open mouth over the other’s. It feels strange and intimate, they have never seen such action from members of their pod, mouths are for eating and teeth for tearing. They form a tight seal and breathe hard into the human. Again. Again. They keep one hand on the chest, feeling it rise full of their own expelled air. Another hot breath, again. They pull back, mouth tingling like a sand burn, and clasp their hands together. Starting to build a rhythm, they push against the human’s chest. They try their best for consistency, for energy as they push, for equal amounts of time between each one. Inhaling water is not healing, not natural to humans as it is to them. They must get air into the human; the human must breathe. Their arms are slipping against the sodden cloth of the shirt, the last reserves of energy fading and they pump and pump and—
“Ackugh!” The human suddenly makes a strenuous hacking sound. The creature scitters back as the human starts to involuntarily thrash. Water bubbles out of the human’s coughing mouth, arms scrambling against the ribs and chest. The creature knows they need to help, the work is not done yet, but the human is dangerous with struggling strength. They carefully crawl forward and grab at the human’s torso, and with one grunting push, manage to roll the human onto the side. The horrible choking sound turns into spitting, then wheezing, then a quiet heavy breathing. The human has stilled, and that makes them feel nervous. Did they hurt the human, a rib, a collarbone, or worse? They slide through the grey beach pebbles around the body until they can look right into the human’s face. The eyes are closed, but the brows are furrowed.
“Awake?” They ask, one hand starting to reach out but quickly withdrawing. The sunburn feeling on their lips return, the idea of a further touch seems a push too far. “Alive?”
“Yeah.” The voice is creaky with exhaustion. The eyes flutter open, the gaze taking a long moment to uncloud and focus. “Hello.”
The creature tilts their head, studying the human. Maybe a head injury, or confusion from the minutes without oxygen.
“You!” The human suddenly tries to sit up, yelping and clutching their side. “You swam us here?”
They nod.
“You swam us here.”
The nod again, feeling wary as the human starts to laugh, body shaking with more than just an usual mirth.
“I’m a complete idiot, you can swim, of course you can, you're a mer, why did I think— I mean, I’m glad you’re alive, and I’m glad I’m alive too I guess, but I’m so foolish— the stone.” The laughs stop abruptly and hands instead move to ransack the miraculously still strapped pouch. The human pulls out the geode half with a rumbling exhale and collapses back onto the ground. “If I had lost it, I think I would just walk right back into the ocean.”
“Don’t.” The mer reaches again, this time gently making contact with one of the human’s forearms.
“Don’t worry I won’t. I’ll save you the trouble of needing to rescue me again.” A crooked grin, but it doesn’t fully reach the anxiety clouding the eyes. “I ought to introduce myself after all of this. I’m Jayce.” And he holds out his hand to the mer. “Thank you for saving me.”
They look at the outstretched hand, flipping through memories of all the pilfered books they’ve read, wondering what exactly it means. After a moment’s thought they place their palm on Jayce’s and rest it there.
Jayce smiles. “Like this.” He shakes both of their hands together. “Nice to meet you. Do you have a name that I can call you?”
He pulls his hand back and so the mer follows suit. A hand shake is a short ritual, they note.
They tap his knee. “Jayce.” The word is extended in their mouth, the soft middle made into a gentle crest. They tap their own chest. In their own language, their name rings with sonorance. They are quite proud of their name, it is an inheritance from parents now lost from their sea.
Jayce hears a lovely couple syllables of clicking. “Could you repeat that? Let me try to say it right.”
The mer shakes their head. “Hard to say, maybe.” They tap Jayce’s throat. “Humans don’t have same sounds.”
“Let me try.” He repeats softer, voice tickling the mer’s fingertips. “We’re not speaking my first learned language either. I’d like to know your name the way you know it.”
“Hmm.” They retreat their hand and touch their own jaw. “Higher here.” They say the first syllable. “Other lower.” They tap under their chin with the second sound. “Fast together though. Tongue click like our stones.” They glance towards where Jayce stowed away his geode half.
Jayce nods, his gaze focused in concentration. “Kikt-tar?”
The mer snorts. It sounds silly coming from the human. But only half wrong, which is better than expected.
“That bad, huh?” He smiles. “Is it my accent or did I say something else?”
“Nothing offensive.” They reply. “Can I touch?”
“You have been.” Jayce gestures to where they are leaning against his legs. Before the mer startles back he adds, “It’s fine! Really, all good.”
They place a hand on each of Jayce’s cheeks, warmth seeping into their palms. They press lightly. “Lips more like this. Pointed.”
“Virk-?” Jayce mumbles.
“Ah, close! And second.”
“Tah.”
“Keep closer.” They tap the human’s lips.
“Tor?” Jayce tries.
“Then together.”
“Virktor? Or Viktor?”
“Eh.” The mer shrugs. “From human, good enough.”
The mer feels a smile grow under their palms. “Your name is Viktor, I like that. Can I ask what you– I mean I hate to assume, it’s just that in my nation Viktor is usually a man’s name, but I would theorize mer people don’t have the same idea of gender as humans, why would you? Jayce is a man’s name, I’m a man, a he, if you wanted to know.” Jayce’s cheeks beneath their hands grow warmer. “Please interrupt me, I’m rambling.”
“Mer don’t have same ideas, you are right.” They withdraw their hands, feeling their own face tingling in perhaps a sympathetic flush. “My body not create my name. My name is given and is mine. It doesn’t weigh much to me, what gender you see and call.”
“Then I will always call you Viktor.” He nods, then winces. “Do you know what time it is?”
Viktor gestures to the heavy clouds in the sky where the moon is fully obscured. “Night.”
“Ha.” Jayce lets out a short laugh. “I don’t think I’ll attempt any climb back up tonight.”
“Don’t.” Viktor warns. “Rest.”
“Sounds good.” Jayce coughs, all the talking rekindling his salt-irritated throat. “I think I’ll nap… right here.”
“I’ll watch.”
There’s a yawn, then a quiet, “Thank you, Viktor.”
They curl against Jayce’s side as natural as anything, eyes facing the horizon, but one hand on Jayce’s rising and lowering chest. They will watch, they will keep this human safe in the night, then—
One quick glance down at those closed eyes framed with such soft lashes.
They must leave in the morning. But perhaps… they can follow. Find this Jayce again. Teach him more. Hear him talk.
They share halves of a whole after all, a great magic wish now split in even two.
Fin.