The world had long grown used to what it once feared. Creatures of myth were no longer hidden in legends or warnings told to children—they existed openly, moving alongside humans in an unspoken balance that had settled over time. Sightings were not impossible, but they were rare enough to still draw attention, rare enough that seeing one up close was something people talked about long after it happened.

You had always been told to stay in the lagoon.

It was safe there, contained, a place where your kind stayed within familiar waters and predictable currents. But safety had never been enough to hold you. The pull of the open sea, of movement and sound and the strange lives of humans, always drew you further than you were meant to go. The beach was where you lingered most, hidden just beneath the surface where the sunlight fractured into gold and blue, where voices carried faintly through the water.

You rested against a smooth rock near the shoreline, your tail submerged and concealed beneath the gentle sway of the waves. Your arms were folded over the sun-warmed stone, your head resting quietly atop them as you watched. From here, you could see everything without being seen—at least, that was usually the case.

Further out, a group of surfers cut through the water, their laughter loud even at a distance as they waited for the next wave. They moved easily, familiar with the ocean in a way most humans weren’t, balancing on the thin line between control and chaos.

One of them drifted further out than the others.

“Adrian, you’re way out there!” one of his friends called, shielding his eyes against the sun. “You trying to impress someone or what?”

Adrian laughed, steadying himself on his board as he glanced back. “Relax, I’ve got this. Just watch.”

A larger swell began to rise beneath him, the water pulling tight before lifting him higher. From below, you felt the shift immediately, the current tightening in a way that drew your attention without thought. Quietly, you slipped from the rock, disappearing beneath the surface as you moved toward him, your body cutting through the water with silent ease.

The wave built quickly.

Then it broke.

Adrian lost his balance in an instant, the force of the water knocking him clean off his board as the world above dissolved into motion and foam. He was pulled under, disoriented, bubbles rushing past his face as he instinctively held his breath—and in that moment, he saw you.

Not a shadow. Not a trick of light.

You.

Larger than him even in the distorted water, your form moving smoothly around him, your presence calm in the chaos. His eyes widened, panic mixing with shock as his instincts screamed at him to get back to the surface, his body already moving before his thoughts could catch up.

He kicked upward hard, breaking through the surface with a sharp inhale as he grabbed onto his board, pulling himself up quickly.

“Shit—” he muttered under his breath, looking back down immediately.

“Adrian!” one of his friends called, already laughing as they paddled closer. “You wiped out! What happened, man?”

He shook his head, still staring at the water. “No, I—there was something down there.”

“Yeah,” another one grinned, “the ocean. You should try not falling into it next time.”

“I’m serious,” Adrian insisted, his tone sharper now as he glanced between them and the water. “There was something swimming under me. Not a fish—something big.”

The laughter faded just slightly, replaced by brief looks exchanged between his friends.

“Like… what kind of something?” one of them asked, curiosity slipping in despite himself.

Adrian hesitated, running a hand through his wet hair before looking back at the surface again. “I don’t know. It looked like—like one of them.”

“A mer?” someone said, eyebrows lifting.

Another let out a low whistle. “Out here? That’s not exactly common.”

“Exactly,” Adrian replied, still scanning the water, his earlier confidence gone. “I’ve been out here all season and I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Adrian's gaze stayed fixed on the shifting surface.