Chapter Text
The water was always a cold, deep place, and it was all Owen had ever truly known.
He swam through the current and up to a rock near the shorelines, despite everything interested in the creatures living upon it.
People, humans, bustled along the streets and across the sands of the beach.
Running around, walking to places, tripping over themselves occasionally.
Wonderful, to him, as strange as it may be.
Owen did hate humans, did hate what their kind has done to his, but they were... intriguing, despite it all.
He yelped and ducked underwater as a child pointed to him from across the pier.
Taking a deep breath, he swam down to the depths again, tail flicking and pushing him forward.
Making his way down to the clan's cavern, he swam past the sunken memorial for his dearest lover.
Faltering and pausing, Owen stopped infront of the statue and stared, as he always did.
Lovingly crafted, though by those pests who wandered ashore. How could they have sculpted his features so precisely, hands carving gently, while plotting his capture and killing?
Did they make him so precisely? Was Owen forgetting his lover's face?
Pulling his rags and bandages tighter, he swam away.
Moving his way across the sunken bridge and through to the ancient castle, Owen floated through the water.
Opening the wooden doors, he glanced around at the dining table, and at his seafolk companions.
Everyone here was some sort of seafolk.
Cleo, was a selkie, as was Scott.
Shelby was a merrow.
Apo was a siren.
Pyro was a typical merman, as was Owen.
"Owen, come here dear, we have the latest catch ready." Scott called out, teeth marbled and bearing slightly.
Owen swam forward and took his seat, glancing at the pathetic catch they had gotten.
"Is this truly all?" Owen murmered.
Scott sighed and scowled. "The humans upon land are becoming smarter in their hunting."
There were only a few pieces of food— some sardines, a tuna, and a small crab.
"I'll go hungry again." Owen mumbled, lips twitching downwards.
"No, no, Owen, you must eat." Shelby said softly, pushing a fish towards Owen. He frowned, but took it.
"I'll have this. Gonna go hunt more, I suppose."
"Ah, sure, hunt. Don't try flail around near the people again." Cleo scoffed. Owen glared at them, then swam out of the sunken ruins.
The light flickered through the waves, and Owen paused as he approached the docks.
Glittering a soft teal color, gold flicking through from the yellow sun, reflecting off of Owen's deep orange scales. Light and rare warmth spilled into the water, making Owen shiver slightly.
He reached up, wrapped hand touching the orange rays, before he quickly pulled back as a shadow loomed near the top of the water.
Too close to the docks.
Someone had seen his hand.
Swimming deeper and moving to be under the wooden planks, Owen clung to the moss covered wooden poles like a barnacle.
Slowly, he emerged and listened out, ears twitching as webbed hands pulled him higher.
"Was that a hand?" A voice called out. A man, by the sound of it— a voice Owen hadn't ever heard before.
Another spoke, "Maybe it was debris? Or seaweed. Either way, no point in jumping in."
Now, this one Owen recognised, only slightly.
A man who had lived around this seaside town for a while now. Dark hair, always a stoic expression, with warm brown eyes. He wore fancy human clothes, and "looked like a servant" as Scott put it.
But Owen still didn't know who the first voice was.
It sounded old, maybe middle aged, but concern dripped through it.
It felt calming. Soothing. Less like a fisherman's, less like a hunter's, more akin to some kind of carer.
But that thought was foolish, as humans did nothing but destroy the world and creatures around them.
Owen peeked up the side of the dock, attempting to catch a glimpse of the voice and its owner. For caution.
"Abolish, they could be drowning or hurt—" The voice spoke again, now accompanied by a form.
A man stood at the edge of the docks, attempting to look over. Owen flinched and froze for a few moments, because he should have spotted him, but the man's gaze kept searching.
Emerald green eyes, some kind of golden and glass accesory, short greying hair, and a thick body with strong arms attached to its torso.
He still hadn't spotted Owen. Maybe he was in a blind spot?
"If you want to jump in, jump in, I really don't care, but it'd be bad if our only doctor died on his first day working." The familar voice, Abolish, said calmly. He was always quite monotone, always steady and calm.
The older man, a doctor of sorts apparently, frowned and bended to his knees, leaning further over the planks.
"I know, I just need to see if someone needs help. It's my in nature." The man spoke firmly.
His bright green eyes locked onto Owen.
"You—" He spoke, already reaching out a calloused hand, as if to help Owen up.
Owen gasped, breathing in an unfortunate amount of air, before ducking underwater and rushing through it.
Stopping once at the bottom of the bay, he coughed out the air, it coming up in small bubbles that rose to the surface.
The surface...
He glanced up towards it again, contemplating that interaction.
It wasn't the first time a human had seen one of their kind— not even the first time a human had seen him.
Around six years ago, Scott found himself trapped on shore, skin half off. A human had begged to be dragged under by him, not knowing the nature of this particular selkie.
The clan ate good for a week.
Another time, was when Apo had found herself singing loud enough to catch the attention of a nearby sailor, who instead of spearing or attempting to capture her on a hook, smiled and offered bread.
Apo had been smitten for that lady ever since, which Owen scoffed and rolled his eyes at.
Scoffing at love was hypocritic of him, because he used to gush over Louis before his death.
The lovely merman had been resting near the shoreline, around twenty years ago. He had basked in the glow and combed his fingers through auburn locks of hair, as Owen sat nearby and admired his lover.
Louis was a special type of merfolk. More than just being amazing, he was different.
Able to switch between scales and limbs, he lived a double life. Similar to the selkies in their clan, but different, as he had no rules or skin bounding where he travelled.
Shelby theorised he was a hybrid, Pyro suggested a fae— whatever he was, Louis was special enough that seafolk and humans alike adored him.
He acted as the people's mayor for years, always youthful, returning to the clan every few moons.
They admired him, they loved him. A statue was erected along the pier, testifying the man's dedication to the town and everyone in it.
He shifted on the rock, pulling Owen up with a giggle that still echoed through his mind.
He had a lovely, deep blue tail, that matched his midnight eyes. He smiled down at Owen kindly, as the other man admired him.
And before Owen could process it, shouting and screaming approached, along with the shadow and shift in water from a large boat.
Owen rushed to pull Louis away and through the sea, but a net wrapped around his fins, pulling him up before Owen realised.
And in an instant, his lover was gone.
Owen swam through the water, rushing to alert the others of the loss.
The clan was one less than before.
The humans shouted about seamonsters and creatures lurking in the depths, preying on them. They were said to have suffocated Louis, or snapped his neck, or fried him alive like some lowly fish.
Owen's grief was tangible to the others, and had been ever since. He wept and cried, and shriek, and hunted everything he saw. Channelling that grief into rage hadn't lessened the pain.
The humans pushed the statue of Louis into the water, where it sunk and landed, now acting as a gravestone for the seafolk's fallen kin. A memorial, that Owen had wrapped a small seaweed crown around. That he often slept by.
One less of their clan, one less of their brood, one lover lost to the vile creatures that trotted upon the shore. The pompous voices and smug fishermen looming above the surface.
Humans were cruel and unforgivable for what they did to the loveliest merman of all— they were disgusting, grimy things.
Humans were vile creatures, but unfortunately, fascinating. Their treasures often were tossed into the clan's waters, and Owen had started a small collection of them with Shelby.
He swam towards the cavern of objects, wincing as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.
The cave largened slightly, a spacious rocky area near the bottom of the sea. At the top, a small part was opened up to the shallower waters, where light sept through and splayed through the clear water.
Owen pushed himself through the cave and piles of human artifacts, glancing around. He grabbed onto some kind of metal utensil, and held it up to reflect the light.
His gaze traced the soft glow, as he sat up on a rock and inspected the object.
Shelby had called it a hairbrush— said some humans raked it through their locks, just like seafolk did with their claws or hands.
He blinked and started to brush his hair with the shiny metal, humming softly.
His tail flicked slightly as movement caught his gaze. His body froze, and his eyes locked onto a small crab crawling nearby.
In an instant, he paused the hairbrushing, leaving the utensil in his hair, and rushed towards the creature.
Catching it and shoving the poor crustacean against the rough walls of the cavern, he let out a high pitched screech.
When the crab stopped squirming, he carefully pulled it into both hands and took a bite.
Still warm, heart still beating. Owen swam around idly as he chewed on the creature.
"Hunting, I see." A voice came from the enterance of the cave.
Owen paused and froze, turning to face the intruder of his collection.
Scott, skin half wrapped around his body.
The selkie swam over and inspected Owen's catch, raising an eyebrow.
"And you didn't think to share?" He hummed, meeting Owen's warm brown eyes with icy blue ones.
"Didn't cross my mind." Owen mumbled, shrugging his shoulders as he swallowed the last half of the crab.
Scott only sighed and crossed his arms, pulling the cloak tigher around himself.
"Whatever, your catch is your own. I'm not here to talk about that."
Owen blinked and tilted his head to the side in confusion.
"See, a little pup told me you were hanging around the docks again. And that a human had spotted you twice today." The man smiled unsettlingly, pupils growing wider just a bit.
"I was curious. A new human has entered town, I just wanted to..." Owen trailed off, glancing away. Scott chuckled.
"Awh, Owen, so young and naive. You know curiousity beached the whale. If this little expidition of yours costs us another life..."
Scott's lips twitched up, as Owen's face twisted into a scowl.
"Mhm, mhm, so don't keep getting us in trouble." Scott murmered, pulling his skin tighter around himself and transforming into full-seal form.
He swam fluidly, staring at Owen with an unsettling gaze.
Scott was a selkie that had a stranger form than others of his kind. His body was longer, stronger, and his eyes followed whoever he was speaking to in an uncanny manner.
His coat looked like a regular harp seal, quite common for most selkies— but small parts of the pattern were wrong.
His teeth were sharper and more marbled than others.
The man was strange, and everyone in their little clan was, but he was odder than the rest. Older, too.
Owen backed away instinctively, and the selkie let out a loud chuckle.
"If you truly did yearn for the surface, you know I have a spell for that. Cry and beg for my magic, and mayhaps I'll allow you some more limbs." He whispered, before darting out of the cavern from the top.
Owen went silent and sighed, pulling the metal out of his long brown hair.
"Did I spend that whole conversation with a brush in my hair...?" He murmered, blinking at the utensil.
Scoffing, he tossed it away and swam up to the rock again, laying his slim body across it.
Staring at the small hole in the top of the cavern, Owen felt thoughts of human life creep into his head.
He wondered if they had strange customs. He wondered what their cultures were like.
He wondered if they were all truly cruel, or worthy of a gift like this.
His eyes flickered close, as he wondered what it would be like to wander free, be part of the world where they walked and ran. Where they weren't bound by saltwater and sand.
Maybe they were all cruel, or maybe some were kind.
He dozed off, curled up like a sleeping shark. The fading light reflected off his face, and he moved closer to the slight warmth.