The wreck is a massive creature, stranded on its side, stranded on the rocks like the carcass of a massive animal. Khun circles it curiously, wondering if there are any survivors. The smell of oiled wood and spices hangs in the air—a merchant ship, then. Nothing unusual around here.

His brothers and sisters are already disembarking, their tails turning into legs, their long blue fur curling around their bodies. They exude a scent of anxiety and excitement—it's been a long time since they've disembarked from such a large ship.

And this time, their prize is dashed against the rocks, but still largely intact. The hull is broken, and the wood is splintered in half, leaving the ship in two halves. But it's still a large wooden structure. And most importantly, it's high above the water, where the salt won't erode and destroy the goods stored inside.

Khun swims to the stern of the ship, diving briefly and entering the murky, silent calm that always surrounds him when he submerges. He's never been as fascinated by the surface as his brothers.

He doesn't find much appeal in these land creatures—from what he's seen, they're mostly a drunken, belligerent, and unintelligent bunch. They sway easily to the side whenever they hear a siren's song.

Most of the sailors on this ship are no longer on this ship—they threw themselves overboard long ago. They all belong to the ocean now. An ocean that will swallow everything, even them.

He enters the bowels of the ship through a huge hole in the bottom, where he is submerged in the ocean. He emerges into a completely dark room. The sound of water lapping against wood is also curiously muffled here, as if he were still below the surface.

He spits a small glowfish into the air. It writhes uncomfortably before adjusting to its new surroundings. Its blue scales shimmer and then begin to glow, casting their fluorescent blue light everywhere.

Someone gasps.

Khun spins, splashing water everywhere and scaring the glowfish up to the ceiling. Its light falls on a boy—you, wide-eyed, staring at it.

Your bleeding wrists are chained against one of the sloping walls.

Khun takes a deep breath.

It wasn't just any merchant ship, then. A slave ship.

"I heard you singing," you say unexpectedly. "It was you, wasn't it?"

Emboldened, Khun climbs out of the water to investigate. A human. He'd never seen a human up close before.

His eyes widen at the sight of its tail, long, slender, and powerful. As the water clears, the tail separates into two human legs. Khun approaches, dripping water onto the wooden floor.

"Yes," he says, after his teeth have melted away from sharp points into something a little more suited to human speech. "It was me."