Captive of the Sea

KATOIKÍA

"I don't know. It's just how the human body works, I guess."

"This is useless, korítsi," he says, holding up her spear. Feeling embarrassed by her poor craftsmanship, she is quick to defend herself.

"It was the rock," she blames. "It wasn't sharp enough."

"Obviously," he mutters twisting the stick this way and that.

With a sigh, he tosses the stick back into her lap. Humans are so primitive. Atlas drops back into the water, the cool waves enveloping his skin and scales. He welcomes the soothing feeling.

"Stay here," he commands before diving into the cerulean unknown. He has multiple spears of his own, of course, but if she wants something, she will have to work for it herself.

And besides, with the Great Tide coming, she will need a way to defend herself.

~•~

Atlas breaks the surface, the harsh sun glaring into his eyes. He never went above the surface before he took the girl, preferring to stay deep in the cool waters on the bottom of the sea. The girl jumps at his sudden arrival, accidentally slipping off the rock and into the ocean below.

The cool water rushes to meet her, her muscles tensing at the sudden change in temperature. She paddles her way back up to the surface, her lungs drinking in a greedy gulp of air. Cally's legs kick to keep herself above the surface as her hands wipe the salty water from her eyes.

Blinking her eyes open, she is surprised by what she sees.

The corners of the creature's lips are tilted up just the slightest bit--just enough to reveal a smile. His eyes shine with something she hasn't seen on him before: amusement. The look is so strange--so foreign--she finds herself wiping her eyes again to make sure she isn't seeing things.

It's beautiful, she realizes. She already knew he was beautiful, but it was that kind of unaproachable beauty, so perfect and flawless it was intimidating. It is almost like he could have been hand sculpted by Michelangelo himself with the finest of marble. He is the kind of beauty others bow down to.

But seeing him like this... It is a different kind of beauty. This beauty is real. It is the beauty that you can touch--feel beneath your fingers--taste on your lips.

For a moment, she forgets the pain he has caused her, and finds herself smiling back at him. Cally almost feels like she has hope--hope that she will find peace amidst the sea of life that is tossing her about so cruelly.

He could easily be mistaken for an angel; one sent to rescue her from this forbidden place, but he is no angel. He is the very demon who put her here.

The spell is broken.

The creature's smile disappears and Cally comes crashing back to reality. His face is wiped clean of emotion, his features hardening into a blank slate clear of any trace of humanity.

Cally turns away, climbing back onto the rock, her safe haven from the creatures of the deep. She clears her throat awkwardly, her eyes cast away from him. She only wishes the moment could have lasted a little longer, if she could have had a little more hope.

"You were doing it wrong, anyways," Atlas says, taking her stick into his hands. He flips the stick around, starting to work on the thicker end. He uses a much sharper stone, one he crafted himself, to shave away the outer bark.

"Always sharpen the thickest end; it throws better this way," he says as he continues shaving away.

Cally nods silently, watching him as he works. Her eyes follow his movements intently, memorizing his technique. It's not everyday that a merman teaches you how to make a spear. Ha! Ethan would find this hilarious.

Cally's features become downcast as she remembers her little brother. She has tried so hard to not think about them and how they must be mourning her loss. If only she could tell them she is alive! No matter how hard she tries to push it away, it seems she can never escape the sorrow she feels.

"Korítsi."

"Human."

"Human!"

Cally jumps at Atlas' sudden shout, as she hasn't noticed him calling her. She is even more surprised when he shoves the stone and the stick into her arms and splashes back into the sea.

"If you aren't going to pay attention, then you can do it yourself," he says harshly, diving under the waves and out of sight before she has a chance to speak.

Feeling coolness on her cheeks, Cally dabs under her eyes with her fingertips.

She hadn't noticed she was crying.