The sea was still beneath the morning sky, painted in pale blues and gold, the sunlight barely skimming across the wave crests. It was a rare, sacred hour — when most creatures of the deep were still in slumber and the surface world had not yet awakened.

Kaelen and Auren floated in the shallows, hidden behind a curtain of seagrass and rock. Only their heads barely broke the surface, eyes fixed on the shoreline a few strokes away.

She was there again.

The human girl.

She sat alone on a smooth stone just above the tide, her feet bare, her toes brushing the cool foam of the waking sea. Her presence was unlike anything Kaelen had seen before in his years of watching. No loud machine, no camera, no noise. Just her. Still and silent, as if the beach belonged only to her.

Her long, dark wavy hair flowed freely down her back, catching the sea breeze like seaweed caught in a slow current. Her skin glowed warmly beneath the morning light — not the sickly pale of sun-lost sailors, but sun-kissed and vibrant. The bracelets on her wrist caught the sun and sparkled like abalone shells; her necklaces swayed gently as she leaned forward to touch the water.

“She's beautiful,” Kaelen whispered, voice soft with awe. “Like she belongs here.”

Auren didn’t respond right away. He studied her carefully — the way her shoulders rose and fell in calm rhythm, her expression somewhere between focused and lost. She wasn’t posing. She wasn’t performing. She was just... being.

“She’s human,” Auren said at last, tone flat but not unkind.

Kaelen tilted his head. “So?”

“So we shouldn’t be this close. We’ve already broken the edge line. You know what the elders would say.”

“I don’t care what the elders would say,” Kaelen replied, his voice low but firm. “She’s alone. She’s not hurting anyone. And she’s not even looking this way.”

“That’s not the point,” Auren said, turning to face him now. “You think they’ll ask if she saw us before punishing us? No. They’ll exile us. Or worse. You know that.”

Kaelen didn’t answer right away. He looked back at the girl.

She had lifted her hand to her necklace now, tracing the beads like they were memories. Her bare shoulder caught the light in a way that made his chest tighten — not with desire exactly, but with something deeper. Curiosity. Longing. That strange ache of wanting to know someone you’ve never met.

“She doesn’t look dangerous,” Kaelen murmured.

“Neither do we,” Auren replied. “But we’ve pulled spears from the backs of dolphins. Watched nets drag down turtles. Her kind doesn’t need to look dangerous to be dangerous.”

“She’s not like that.”

“You don’t know her.”

“That’s why I want to get closer,” Kaelen said. “Just to listen. Just for a moment.”

Auren inhaled sharply and ran a hand through his sea-damp hair. “Kael... please. Don’t do this.”

Kaelen turned to him with that stubborn gleam Auren knew far too well. “I’m not going to talk to her. I promise. I just want to swim closer. I need to see.”

Auren’s jaw tightened. The weight of silence stretched between them, filled only by the sound of gentle waves and seabirds waking in the cliffs above.

“Then I’m going with you,” he finally said, defeated.

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. Because if something happens to you... I won’t be able to live with that.”

Kaelen offered him a faint, grateful smile, and without another word, they dove — two shadows gliding just beneath the surface, silent as whispers.

They didn’t rise to break the water again, just circled closer like curious seals. From this distance, they could hear her humming softly. A quiet, wistful tune, unfamiliar but somehow timeless. Her eyes were closed, and she tilted her head to the breeze as if listening to the ocean speak.

Kaelen floated a little nearer, his heart pounding.

Auren stayed just behind, ready to pull him back at the slightest movement from the girl.

But she never looked their way.

Instead, she reached into the shallow water beside her and scooped up a handful of smooth stones, letting them trickle through her fingers.