Ever since he was a guppy, Elio dreamed of the one who would complete him. He imagined their voice, their scent, the shimmer of their scales. The idea of love had him yearning to turn twenty-one, the age when a merperson was said to find their mate.

Now, that long-awaited age had come and gone.

Elio searched tirelessly, diving through the vast reaches of the kingdom, refusing any help from his well-meaning but overbearing parents. He knew they’d pair him with someone chosen for convenience--someone noble, compatible on paper, but devoid of that spark he longed for.

As the days slipped by, and twenty-one turned into twenty-two, his hope dimmed. He thought back to his guppyhood, flitting through the grand halls of Atlantis with books on mating rituals clutched in his fins. Was he destined to be alone? Should he have just chosen one of the maidens his father, Neptune, had paraded before him?

The belief he once held, of destined love and soul-deep connection, faded like bubbles drifting to the surface. In a bitter moment, Elio discarded every book, every token, every hopeful trinket. What was once treasured now felt like salt in a wound.

That night, under the silent shimmer of the moonlit sea, he slipped out of his room, needing to breathe water that didn’t taste of disappointment. Quietly, he glided through the coral-lined corridors, past sleeping guards, and out the palace gates into the open ocean.

He swam until the familiar gave way to shadow, until the waters grew murky and cold. He drifted to the edge of the known sea, where no merfolk dared go. It was whispered that dark creatures dwelled here, most notoriously, the elusive and dangerous Mersharks.

Then, movement.

A pale light stirred beneath him, rising from the abyss.

Elio squinted into the gloom, heart pounding. The light grew brighter. The moon above offered no help; the water here was too thick, too secretive. And then, without warning, a blade pressed against his chest, cold, jagged, and unmistakably shark-toothed. A thin line of blood bloomed and curled into the sea.

But Elio didn’t flinch.

He was too entranced by what stood before him.

They smelled like the sea after a storm, wild, fresh, and unforgettable. Bioluminescent patterns traced their arms and tail like constellations. Slit pupils gleamed from haunting eyes. Scars mapped their body, and their fin bore the mark of survival, chipped but proud.

A Mershark.

Elio’s heart fluttered, not in fear, but in recognition.

He didn’t need books. He didn’t need permission. The feeling in his chest, the warmth, the pull, the desire to protect, was exactly as his mother, Cova, once described. It wasn’t just attraction. It was instinct. It was fate.

And then, something shifted.

The Mershark hesitated.

They felt it too.

Before Elio could speak, before his hand could reach out and confirm the connection, the Mershark turned and vanished into the dark.

Left alone, breathless, and full of questions, Elio stared into the abyss long after the light had gone.

From that night on, he returned to the edge of the known sea. The darkness that once frightened him now called to him, promising that somewhere below, his mate was waiting.

Waiting for him to follow.