The storm had passed, but the scent of lightning still clung to the air like a warning.
Kael stood with his body half-turned to the sea, muscles coiled like a hunter who had smelled something wrong. Beside him, Lyra's breath was shallow, sharp. Her hair clung to her damp shoulders, sea-wet and gleaming, her golden eyes fixed on the dark silhouette that had risen from the water.
A merman.
He was tall, lithe, the lower half of his body glinting with opalescent silver-blue scales. His eyes — an eerie shade of pearl — swept over Lyra first, unreadable. Then they landed on Kael, and his jaw tightened.
Lyra stepped forward, lips parting. "You're not supposed to be here."
"I go where the tide calls me." His voice had a musical undertone, like the hush of waves curling over sand. "And it called me to you."
Kael didn't miss the possessiveness in the stranger's gaze, nor the way Lyra's tail twitched once in what seemed like irritation. There was a history here. He could feel it, like the weight in the air before a storm.
Before anything else could be said, Miri stepped forward.
She had been quiet until now, eyes wide, clutching something to her chest like a child with a secret. She walked up to Kael, barefoot on the damp stones.
"I made this for you," she said softly, holding out a small, coiled trinket — a charm. It glowed faintly with a hue that reminded him of deep-sea pearls. "It's protection... from what's to come."
Kael took it, fingers brushing hers. "What is it?"
"Old magic. Woven from salt and siren's thread."
Lyra's eyes snapped to the charm. Her entire body tensed.
"Where did you learn to make that?" she asked, her voice too calm.
Miri blinked innocently. "I... read things. Heard things. There are whispers in this village, you know."
Kael slipped the charm around his neck, uneasy now under the weight of both women's eyes. The merman — who still hadn't given his name — watched the exchange in silence, lips curled in the faintest smirk.
Lyra turned to him, arms crossing. "Why are you really here, Thalen?"
So there was a name.
"I came to see what the sea dragged in," Thalen replied, nodding at Kael. "And to see if you've grown foolish enough to let a mortal chain you."
Kael bristled, but Lyra didn't rise to the bait. Her silence said more.
"What does he mean?" Kael asked her.
She shook her head. "Not here. Not now."
"Fine," Thalen said with a shrug, though his eyes burned. "But don't think I won't be watching." He vanished into the water like a blade slipping into a sheath, the ripples fading almost immediately.
Lyra exhaled a sharp breath. "Come. Both of you."
They returned to the cave in silence. The storm had left its touch there too — pools of rainwater, scattered seaweed, the fire pit cold and dark. Kael started to stoke it, but Lyra gestured, and a flick of her fingers brought flame.
Miri stood just at the edge of the entrance, face bathed in flickering orange light. "You knew him," she said softly.
Lyra didn't answer. Instead, she looked at Kael.
"That charm," she said, tone unreadable. "Keep it hidden. Don't trust it blindly."
He touched it again. "Why?"
"Because I've seen charms like that in the hands of enemies."
Miri didn't flinch. She smiled.
And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, she began to hum.
The melody wasn't innocent. It wasn't even human. It coiled around the cave like mist, tugging at Kael's mind, making his chest tighten.
Lyra went still.
Miri's eyes were faraway now, the song rising in haunting notes.
Kael recognized it — not from memory, but instinct. It was the same tune that had lured him into the ocean that night. The one he couldn't forget.
Lyra stepped forward, fury crackling around her.
"Who taught you that song?"
Miri blinked, like waking from a trance. "Oh... I've always known it."
Kael looked between them, heart pounding.
Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.
The charm on his neck pulsed.
And outside, the sea began to stir again.