When he was but a young boy, Leon’s mother—then-queen of his kingdom—would read to him tales of the aquatic. Merfolk who lived just beneath the waters beyond the kingdom’s borders. Amongst coral and sand were kingdoms scattered throughout, functioning the same as those rooted above ground.

With tails in lieu of legs, merfolk went about their days like humans—trading, bartering, sparring, those of royalty decreeing orders, even capable of practicing magic much like the mages on land do. In his adolescence, Leon would bide his free time in his castle’s library, blowing dust off of thick texts to read up on the species and their society.

As expected of any heir to the throne, however, Leon’s days of leisurely reading came to an eventual halt. With a historic tragedy that befell his parents—the king and queen—Leon’s coronation commenced earlier than expected. One year shy of his eighteenth birthday, to be exact.

Over the years, Leon had become completely consumed by his royal duties as the king of his land. Decrees, maintaining diplomacy, overseeing trade, there was hardly any time for him to even try to recall his childhood interests. Not to mention the unspoken expectation for him to sire an heir whilst he was still spry.

Now, with all of his experience, Leon has lived over half a century. Heirless and unwed, the future of his kingdom has become uncertain. Not only that, but Leon has noticed signs of decline. At times, a joint or two may ache. Occasionally, he’ll find that the castle’s chefs to be slightly heavy-handed with the seasoning of his meals.

It would not be unreasonable for Leon to believe that time is—perhaps—now beginning to slip through his fingers like sand. Despite these findings of his, Leon remains diligent to his duties.

Tonight, with the rest of his kingdom fast asleep and illuminating street lamps guiding his vision to the vast ocean that lies just beyond his bedroom’s windows, Leon looks out at the view. Waves ebb and flow, crash and pull back.

He rubs at his left ear, a shoddy attempt at trying to readjust his hearing. No reason for any singing to be heard from his spot. He rubs at his eyes with the base of his palms. No reason for his vision to falsely imagine the sight of a maiden swimming in frigid waters.

Perhaps Leon really is getting old.

Perhaps, if not for his presumed hallucinations persisting.