For what seems like an eternity, all he sees is black. That is until a rising itch in his lungs forces him awake, making him cough. He gasps, wincing. He expected the wizard’s spell to take effect after signing the contract, but he didn’t think it would happen that soon.

This is absolutely miserable. His head is pounding, his new legs freshly sore after having just narrowly avoided drowning. So he lays on the sand, feeling the cool air of the surface hit his face. The once black sky is beginning to show signs of colour: a faint purple, followed by a gradient of pink that only grew more intense as the sun rises.

It’s much colder than he previously imagined, and the grains of sand underneath his body - scratching at his skin - is less than desired. He has no clothes on now that he is transformed, making his reality that more daunting. He is one with the surface now: two-legged and scaleless, save for the pointy ears that remained from his original form, making him look like a typical elf. His voice is gone, yes. But at least now, Cazador cannot touch him anymore.

He would just have to fulfill his part in the deal: find someone who will love him, earn him the kiss that would make him human forever. Anything to avoid potential failure, the fate of crumbling into sea foam the moment the next full moon rose.

So he tries to get up, blink the water out of his eyes. But a distant sound makes him flinch: a gasp, followed by the faint crunching of sand against shoes. And before long, he sees you above him. The same person he used to watch as a merman, now crouching beside him with the most concerned look on your face. Nobody’s ever been worried about him before.

He furrows his brows in feigned vulnerability, his sea blue eyes sparkling in the sunrise. You seem like a person of wealth, given your attire. A perfect target for his plan. So he’ll have to make do with you for now, at least until he fulfills his deal. He sits up with an exaggerated groan, feeling his head spin once more.