Chapter 3
THREE
K ent hardly slept that night. He dreamt of merfolk, the stories from his books, of what it would be like to live under the water. Wondering how it felt to be able to breathe underwater, what sorts of cities lay under the waves, what sort of civilizations were just out of his reach. As soon as the dream version of himself had ducked his head under the surface, on the verge of discovering something great—he’d woken up. Time and time again throughout the night.
The following day he could barely concentrate, his mind drifting back to that voice and the magnificent fishtail he saw. He thought of telling his sister, Katherine, but would she believe him? She always loved to tease and poke fun at him. Would it really do him any good to give her more kindling to that fire? Though, despite her teasing, he always knew her to be in good faith: ‘sisterly love’, she would say. Even so, Kent didn’t want to take a chance by letting her know, at least not yet. Not when he wasn’t certain of what he saw.
In the afternoon before the sun had set, instead of Kent bursting out the front door of the estate in a fit of rage like yesterday, he calmly left without a word. No one had to know where he was about to go or why.
Same time, same place. He made sure to leave at the same time as yesterday as best he could manage, and the path to the beach would always lead him to the same place. Thankfully, any time he’d been to that beach, there’d hardly been any other people walking about, and especially none in the evening. Most people nearby lived in Southampton to the west or Portsmouth to the east.
He rode his mare down the path, and then tied her to the same tree as before, giving her a treat while he set a hand on her soft neck.
“I hope you don’t mind me bringing you out here again.”
Biscuit chewed silently, closing her eyes for a moment.
Kent laughed, “I shan’t be long, or… well, I don’t even know what will happen. But I promise, I won’t leave you tied here all night.”
He took his shoes and stockings off just like the day before, putting them nearby Biscuit, along with his frock coat. Leaving himself in his waistcoat, shirt, and breeches, he traipsed his way onto the beach, pebbles feeling hot under the soles of his feet. But it was a comfortable warmth, thankfully. It was due to only get hotter as summer crept along.
The sea was just as stunning as before, how the sun was setting to the west, reflecting oranges on the glistening water’s surface. The same tall rock stood in the water to his right, the same gentle waves lapping forward and back onto the shore.
Same time, same place. He said he’d be waiting.
But where was he? Who was he? What if this was all just a trick—Kent falling into a trap, a kidnapping scheme perhaps, and he was too much of a dunce to realize? No, that didn’t make sense, because if it were that, why didn’t they attack him yesterday? Why trust that Kent would return with such few words spoken? It didn’t explain the fishtail either, which was even more peculiar. No, surely, whoever the owner of the voice was, they were friendly.
Yet so far, as he stared out at the water minute after minute, nothing happened. What if the mysterious man didn’t return, after all? What if this trip had been all for nothing? Kent couldn’t be sure as the uncertainties made his heart race in his chest, sweat dripping down his brow. Perhaps the man was running late, or perhaps he hadn’t realized Kent was already here, with him being so quiet. Those were definitely plausible possibilities.
I suppose I should say something, then. So he knows I’m here.
“Oi? Is anyone out there?”
There was a beat of silence, nothing but the sound of waves as Kent waited for a response. A lump rose in his throat as he feared he had been imagining it all along, that he should just turn back, when he heard a gentle voice call out from somewhere nearby?—
“Yes, I’m here. Good evening. Would you please sing for me again?”
Kent clutched at the front of his waistcoat as his heart leapt with joy. He came back! He was telling the truth! He wondered if the mysterious man could see him now, how ridiculous his grin must’ve looked.
“Sure, sure, absolutely. I’ll sing again. However… would you mind… showing yourself? I’d like to see who I’m talking to.”
“I…” The voice paused, as if contemplating what he should say next. “I will, at the end of your song.”
“You promise?” Kent smirked.
“I promise.”
Kent chuckled again—why, here he was, the voice was clearly conversing with him. Whether it be another man, a merman, an apparition or whichever, someone was here and wanted to hear Kent sing.
Getting comfortable, Kent sat down on the shingles, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his ankles. Now, which song should he sing this time? Perhaps something more uplifting? Despite his situation at home not really changing, he was definitely in a better mood. He’d been looking forward to this meeting all day.
So Kent began to sing. He sang a joyful tune with lyrics this time, one he also knew the accompaniment to on harpsichord. It told a tale of star-crossed lovers, a prince and a princess from warring countries who wanted nothing more than their own happiness. And with their marriage, they declared peace through all the lands, finally ending the long-fought war. It was a song filled with hope: ‘Love Conquers All’. One that Kent had adored dearly since he was a child.
As he wrapped up the final note, he couldn’t stop smiling, his heart never stopped pounding. This was it—the voice had promised he’d show himself.
There was a cheerful whistle, somewhat quiet. It didn’t sound like a human whistling but something… more like a bird? An animal?
“Thank you so much. I cannot reiterate enough how beautiful your voice is.” Kent could hear the smile in the mysterious man’s tone, and it made his cheeks feel strangely hot.
“You’re very welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He rubbed his knees in anticipation, still grinning like mad. “Now, you promised. Would you please show yourself?”
“Yes, of course. If you’ll look here, I’m over by this rock.”
The rock—yes, the large rock sticking out of the sea nearby. It sounded like the voice was coming from there, and that was also where he swore he saw the fishtail, yet now the voice confirmed it. Still, the anticipation made him stand, taking a step closer to the water’s edge. Closer, a step, then closer still, to where if he took one more, his toes would touch the foam. If he said that he was by the rock, that means… this person is in the water?
The water swayed and splashed lightly, and then?—
A shirtless young man with the most peculiar hair he’d ever seen peeked his head out from behind the stone.
“Good evening,” the young man said with a smile.
Kent grinned back, breath caught in his mouth. “You… yes, good evening! Oh Lord, there really was a man out here!”
The man behind the rock was about a dozen or so feet away from him, chest-deep in the water. Kent could see him quite clearly as the setting sun shone over his wet features: a dashingly handsome face, pink and dark red scars littered all over his pale skin, and unnaturally two-toned long hair—mostly dark brown, with patches of blond framing his face.
“A man, you say? Well, yes, I am a man… of sorts.” He laughed, brushing his wet fringe away from his eyes. Something— something strange and golden was attached like glue to his forearm.
Kent raised a brow. “Of sorts ? What do you mean? And—what are you doing in the water in the first place?”
“Ah, well, you see… I’m a rather good swimmer.”
“I can see that.” Kent chuckled. “But why swim out here ? At twilight, all by yourself—did you come from Stubbington too?”
The man blinked. “Stubbing—ton? I—no, I did not.”
This interaction was only getting stranger and stranger. Kent pursed his lips. “Then where are you from?”
“The water.”
“The water. Huh.” Kent couldn’t help but playfully laugh again. This man must be joking with him. “You still didn’t answer my question: what are you doing in the water in the first place?”
“You want to know? Well…” The young man shrugged. “I assume there’s no reason to hide it.”
“Hide it? Hide what?”
He flashed a dazzling grin. There was something also strange about his bright white teeth. “I’ll show you.”
The young man leant back, resting a hand against the rock for what appeared to be stability, and?—
Jolting out of the water, waves splashing as it breached, was the same giant fishtail Kent had seen yesterday. There was no doubt.
Frilly brown and golden fins, attached to an azure blue tail, scales twinkling with water droplets.
“Ah! Oh… Oh, my God!”
Kent stumbled backwards and landed clean on his rear, pebbles scattering into the air from the impact.
“You’re…” continued Kent, “It—it can’t be! You’re a merman !”
The merman laughed so casually, appearing amused at Kent’s ridiculous response. Kent didn’t think he was over-exaggerating, no! A tried and true mythical creature was right in front of him—something he wasn’t even certain existed until this very moment. But he still had faith, and that faith blessed him for holding out. Here was a merman, in the flesh, laughing with him.
“Please, don’t be frightened. I won’t do you any harm. I only wish to speak with you,” said the merman. He swam a little closer, now sitting on the shallow ocean floor, waist-deep in water.
Kent stood back up, brushing and patting his breeches. “I apologize. I’m really, truly sorry, I… Well, as you can imagine, I’ve never seen a merman in person before! And here you are!”
It seemed like everything Kent said got a laugh out of the merman, and curiously, the rumble of that laughter made Kent’s chest fluttery and light. “There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? Oh, I don’t mean to be rude, I should introduce myself. My name is Mo.”
Kent blinked. “Mo? Just Mo?”
“Yes, just Mo. And you?”
Oh, how should he introduce himself? It would be quite strange to say his name formally like he would on any normal occasion: Kent Wilson, Viscount Fareham. And thus forth, his peers would solely address him as nothing other than ‘Lord Fareham’. Most people found the name ‘Kent’ to be strange, which was fine, they never had to call him that anyway. But Mo was a merman—he most likely had no sense of human nobility, titles, which names were common, and the like. Wouldn’t all that be so absurd and convoluted to him?
“My name is… Kent Wilson. But you can just call me Kent.” He rubbed the side of his neck.
“Kent.” Mo’s eyes glistened. “I like it. Kent. Sounds easy to say underwater.”
“Easy to say…” A thought—a sudden realization sprung into Kent’s mind with that comment. He took a step closer, ankles now wading in the water, and only a few feet away from the merman. “Wait a moment. You’re speaking to me in English. How is that possible? Are all merfolk fluent in English?”
Another handsome smile graced Mo’s face. “Yes, and all human languages, actually. It’s magic; communication magic. Merfolk are able to use that magic to converse with other creatures similar to us. That of course means humans, but also other similar sea creatures like dolphins and whales.”
Kent took in an excited gasp. “Dolphins? Really?”
“Why yes!” Mo chuckled. “But not common fish like mackerels, however. I think it’s because their kind lays eggs, and ours does not.”
Kent could feel his cheeks boiling at that comment. He remembered something about merfolk reproduction in one of his books back home… perhaps he would look at that later. Right now, the thought just made him shake his head, incredibly flustered to even be thinking of that.
“What was the song you were singing?” asked Mo, interrupting Kent’s thoughts. “I quite enjoyed your words.”
“Ah, it was a song I’d learnt to sing when I was younger. With songs like that, I’m never sure if the tales they tell are true, but it is encouraging to believe. ‘Love Conquers All.’”
“That is an agreeable belief. It’s nice to hear songs spread with that message, even in the human realm.”
“Do merfolk have songs like that as well?”
“Yes, of course.” Mo beamed. “Plenty of tales of how the cities undersea used to war amongst each other, but love between royals brought them together in harmony.”
“You’ll have to sing me one, then,” said Kent with a smirk. “I sang for you, so it’s only proper for me to ask you to return the favor. I have some pamphlets on merfolk, and in one of them, it told of how beautiful merfolk’s voices were. ‘The most beautiful voices of all,’ it said. I wonder if that’s true…?”
“Oh, I’d love to sing for you! That is, if you have the time. It is starting to get dark out, and I’m unsure of your obligations…” the merman asked with a tinge of playfulness, and something else Kent couldn’t place, but he did note how Mo’s cheeks looked a bit redder than before.
He’s asking so he has an excuse to see me again.
Here was a real merman, acting so friendly and casual with him. A merman who enjoyed his song, and wanted to speak more with him. He couldn’t get over that, how one simple encounter changed his worldview in the blink of an eye. Oh, how he never wanted to stop talking with him, how he wanted to keep asking questions about merfolk life. In truth, Kent barely had anyone he could honestly call a friend aside from his sister, and now a merman was offering his friendship so easily? How could Kent say no?
Especially when he said my voice is beautiful. I don’t believe anyone has ever told me that…
But Mo was right—Kent couldn’t stay out for much longer; the sun was touching the horizon, the eastern sky was turning dark blue, and he couldn’t leave Biscuit tied to that tree all night. His valet would be wondering where he’d be, too, and might alert his father that something was amiss.
“I will need to head back home,” he said reluctantly. “So you’ll have to promise me that you’ll sing for me next time we meet.”
“Of course.” Mo nodded. “It’s a promise.”
But then, Kent had a very particular question he wanted to ask while he could, an idea that sprung suddenly, one he wasn’t sure even Mo could answer.
“I wonder… is it possible for you to become human? For merfolk to rid their tail, and have human legs? That way you could come onto land with me, and perhaps we could talk more someplace else.”
That made the laughter dissipate, and Mo’s face softened at the thought. He took a deep sigh, and looked down toward the water. “No, at least no methods that I know of that are true. There are legends and lore of it, yet I haven’t known of any merfolk to become human personally.” Kent sighed as well, sensing a deep longing in the way Mo said it, the tone of his voice. “However, even if I don’t know how, I do believe it’s possible. I’d always wished to find out.”
As Mo looked back up, Kent found he was now close enough to see the color of his eyes. Azure blue, the same shade of his tail, the same color as the sea.
“Perhaps there is a way.” Kent smiled. “I could bring one of my merfolk books, and we can see if there’s something about gaining legs in there.”
That brought the smile back to Mo’s face, and Kent realized what was so strange about the merman’s teeth. He has fangs. “Oh, would you? I would love that!”
“Of course.” Kent nodded. “Though… I rather should be heading back.” Mo’s grin faltered at that statement, and a small twinge of guilt poked Kent’s stomach. “I will be back soon, however. I’ll bring the book! You needn’t worry.”
“When would be best for you to come back?”
Kent would be busy tomorrow evening; he had an invitation to a party that his father would be disappointed at him if he didn’t attend. “How is two days from now? Same place, and same time of day again.”
“Two days from now is good. Any time is good for me, that all is great.” Mo tilted his head, his face showing another incredibly infectious smile. How silly it was, the real-life fish-man kept smiling at him. And now, he made a commitment to see him here on this beach again. What was he getting himself into?
“I shall see you then, Mo. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”
“Same to you, Kent. See you soon,” he said softly with a nod, as a promise he meant.
Kent gave Mo a wave, and the merman waved back. Then Kent made his way back up the beach, said a greeting to Biscuit, and tried his best to pat off the dirt stuck on the soles of his feet. As he sat down to put his stockings back on, he looked up, and—Mo was still there. But Mo noticed he got caught staring, as his eyes widened, skin flushing red out of embarrassment, and he rushed back into deeper water to cover himself behind the large boulder again. However, it seemed Mo couldn’t help peeking his head out.
Oh, how endearing. Kent could feel the skin on his own face heating up, too. He waved at Mo again after he buckled his shoes and stood back up. Mo waved as well, giving one last handsome smile before he dove under the water.
Kent couldn’t wait to return to his library, to dig into his books and find out more. Mo gave him a promise, too: next time, he would sing. Kent wondered if a merman’s voice truly was as beautiful as the stories said, and his heart beat with excitement, awaiting the next time they’d meet.