Chapter Into The Deep
INTO THE DEEP
Enver
The gods of the deep have long been silent in the wake of our kind dying.
Extinction began a century ago, when the humans discovered the powers of the sea that is harnessed within our bones, the fiber that knits us together.
Sailors enslaved us by the hundreds, then the thousands, for having a Merperson aboard a ship would keep it safe from any harm the gods wished upon it. We are of the salt and stone and water.
What the humans failed to realise was that once our kind was plundered, there was no reviving them.
Breeding is near impossible, and living above the waves is a swift death sentence.
We are not meant to languish beneath the rays of sun.
It’s a miracle I have survived so long when my brothers, sisters, parents, and friends were given the death sentence of selfishness.
I haven’t come across another Merperson in a decade.
Likely because I realized what others did not, and fled to the deepest, darkest parts of the sea, where horrors lurk.
I’d like to think death at the hands of another oceanic counterpart would be far preferable to frying beneath the hot sun while sweaty, despicable humans toil away, consumed by greed.
But the omnipresent fear prodding at the back of my brain that I may be the last of my kind has grown more fervent with each passing loop around that damnable sun.
I’ve always known what my course of action would be, should I ever cross tides with a breedable Mermaid; my father showed me the way to the ancient, magic coves and caves of old, places sheltered from humans and safe for the rituals necessary to impregnate whoever the gods deign worthy of such mythical procreation.
So when they instead gifted me with a human on my annual trip to the Gèvadaun cave system on the outskirts of that fetid kingdom, I knew not to throw such a gesture back into the tides.
I am likely the last of my kind. There is no other option for me but to bow to the gods in thanks, and bring forth a new generation of young.
But as I stare at the woman I saved from drowning, I frown.
She lies on her side, one hand dangling into the pool of water I occupy.
A cacophony of dripping drowns out the shallow sound of her quiet breaths, but the rise and fall of her shoulders stems some of my worry.
Her ebony hair is a net of loose curls, soaked through and drying in wild kinks thanks to the salt, interspersed with bits of kelp and dotted with sparkling white sand.
Her skin is soft, a subtle shade of topaz that I run my fingers over, my eyes taking in the distinct differences in our coloring.
I am pale, verging on translucent, and having spent so long in the depths hasn’t helped.
Violet veins run along my forearms and disappear from my view as I watch my fingers skim along her bare shoulder.
Glancing at her ethereal face, I cock my head to the side and continue to study her unabashed, a giddiness pooling low in my gut at the prospect of finally finding a mate.
My long, strong tale undulates silently in the water, keeping me close to the edge, close to her.
For the first time in nearly ten grueling years, a smile lifts my lips.
She will be happy at being given a second chance at life.
I will be a good mate, bringing her plenty of fish to feast upon, and shells to decorate this cave and make it our home while she carries our children.
Perhaps I will whittle her earrings, or a necklace from soft, aged driftwood.
They would match and adorn her skin so beautifully.
I’m just wondering if she will prefer the taste of sea slugs over tough shelled crabs when she sucks in a gasp of a breath, and in shock, I retreat into the water, instincts taking over to preserve my life.
I’m ashamed at my fear, but as the water above me stills, I can just make out her dancing form as she pushes herself up onto her hands and looks around in confusion.
Gritting my teeth, I give my tail a subtle swish and come nearer the surface without breaking the tension just yet.
I don’t need to be giving my mate the same fright she has unwittingly given me.
She presses a hand to her forehead, and I’m once again left in awe at the delicate bones these humans have. There’s no webbing between each digit. How humans are able to swim at all is a mystery to me.
After a tense moment of her taking in the darkened surroundings of the cave, she glances down into the warm pool I occupy.
Everything the two of us need to survive will be provided here, from warmth, to food.
It is the way of our generous gods. So far, they’ve seemed accepting of the mate I found, but I must perform the rite to ensure and solidify it.
Gnawing with sharpened teeth on my bottom lip, I steel my nerves and bring myself even closer to the surface, my iridescent scales a beacon to her keen eyes.
I watch in fascination as they widen, as that dainty, fragile hand flies to her mouth in horror, as she scuttles backwards across the smooth rock she rests upon.
Shame fills me, but my head pops above the water all the same, my wary eyes watching her every move.
There’s no chance for escape on her part; she would be lost in the myriad of tunnels beneath the waves, and with the high tide at the present, drowning would become her fate.
My heart clenches at the prospect as our eyes catch and hold one another’s.
In the bluish glow thanks to the bioluminescent worms clinging to their respective homes above us, we hold our breath.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly but slows in increments when she sees I am keeping my distance. I fight to form words in her tongue, but I know very few, and have no clue what to say to such a beautiful gift. My mate, however, beats me to it.
“Am…am I dead?” she rasps, her voice echoing softly in the cavern. The thought is despicable, and I fight the urge to hiss at such a prospect. I gave her the last tendrils of oxygen in my lungs to keep her alive as we made our way here. Why would she think she has died?
Slowly, I shake my head. Her eyes, the hue of worn, gray driftwood, widen to perfectly round circles, and her breathing ratchets up again.
“You…you’re a…oh my…”
She presses that hand to her forehead again.
The hand I need to sink my teeth into, to mark her palm and give the offering of her blood to the gods while I pray they accept.
I’m about to come closer, to reach for her and begin the rite, but her next words halt me, and sorrow clings to the bones surrounding my heart.
“Why didn’t you let me die?”