When I first saw her floating in the storm, something pulled me toward her. Not logic. Not strategy. Something deeper. Compulsion. I saved her even when I knew better than to act on impulse.
If she could tear sirens apart so easily… What stopped her from turning that on me?
I’d dealt with dangerous things before—creatures that ripped souls from bodies, beings that shouldn’t exist. But she—
She was unpredictable.
And power that large never stayed hidden for long.
Nerina stood near the mast, shoulders tight. The artifact’s glow had faded, but the residue of what she’d unleashed still lingered—heat and ozone clinging to the air.
I approached her carefully, not moving too fast. After that surge, I wasn’t sure how she’d react—or whether she had any control at all.
“Ah, still standing, I see.” My voice stayed measured, but my eyes stayed on her.
Her skin was flushed from exertion, sweat bright along her brow. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, but she held herself upright—defiant even in exhaustion.
She glanced at me, fatigue in every movement, wariness tucked under it. I couldn’t blame her. She’d been on my ship only a few days, and we hadn’t exactly had time to play twenty questions. We didn't know each other.
There is no time like the present.
“Barely,” she muttered, swaying before catching herself. I had the impulse to reach for her—to steady her.
I didn’t. She wouldn’t appreciate it, and I didn’t want her to think I cared.
I studied her.
"I’ve seen merfolk play with currents and sing storms into calm, but whateverthatwas? Wasn’t just magic—it was something else entirely. Something wild. Something dangerous. So, tell me—what the hell are you?”
Her mouth tightened as if around a bitter thought. For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer. She weighed the cost of words, gaze sliding to the dark water beyond the ship.
“I didn’t think they were real,” she admitted, shaking her head. “Shadow Sirens were just myths—stories told to frighten young merfolk. But they were real. And they were worse than the stories.”
I let out a low, humorless laugh.
“You have no idea the horrors this world holds.” I gestured toward the waves ahead. “Those were just the beginning.”
“I’m from a city beyond the Veil.Thalassia.”
I frowned. “The Veil?”
The word stirred something in me. I’d always wondered what it was truly for—what it kept out, or what it kept in.
She hesitated, then nodded. “It separates my world from yours. It protects us from humans. From being poached. From being skinned alive.”
Her voice carried something close to reverence… or regret.
“To protect you? From humans?” I gave a short laugh, shaking my head. “Who told you that?”
Nerina’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s what we were taught,” she said finally, but hesitation threaded her words. “From the time we’re young, we’re warned about humans. About their greed, their hunger for power. The Veil is meant to keep us safe.”
I exhaled. “I think you mean hidden. There’s a difference.”
I leaned back, watching her. “Safe means someone’s guarding you. Hidden means someone’s afraid of what happens if you’re found.”
Her jaw tensed. Doubt flickered, quick and swallowed.
“Secrets don’t just disappear,” I said quietly. “Someone buries them.”
