~•~
Cally's entire body is still as she holds the glass at just the right angle to where the sun's light shines onto the tinder in a piercing ray of flammable light. She must hold it in the exact same spot as to keep the heat in the same place. One little movement, and the heat dissolves, restarting the process.
It has been at least an hour since Cally awoke to her stomach grumbling and her ribs aching. A fish was laid on a rock right on the shore, obviously left for her by Atlas.
Atlas.
It felt strange to call him that. She was so used to calling him creature that any other name seems foreign. She, at one time, wondered if he even had a name.
The fish was still cool to the touch, which meant it could only have been there a few minutes. After scoffing down the raw fish, she decided she had had enough of raw meat. Every time her stomach twisted and her throat gagged.
She had spent three days on this blasted island trying to make a fire, but to no avail. Everything had still been too wet and the air too humid from the storm to make a fire.
She vowed to never eat a raw fish again, and so here she is, her back blistering under the harsh rays of the sun as she desperately tries to light the tinder on fire with a piece of glass.
Suddenly, a small stream of smoke begins to emerge from the dry grass in her hands. Cally nearly jumps up in a happy dance, but quickly stops herself, keeping her body still. She can't afford to mess up now, not after so many days spent trying and failing.
As the smoke grows taller, a tiny flame arises. Slowly, carefully, Cally removes the glass and blows gently, her stiff legs rising to walk to her hut. She carries the precious flame like it's the Holy Grail. Setting it down on a bed of sticks, Cally continues to blow gently.
After a few more minutes of careful blowing and the slow addition of twigs and sticks, Cally has herself a little campfire. An elated laugh bubbles up her throat and Cally throws her head back in a hearty guffaw. Her eyes dance with happiness as she sees her success. Now all she has to do is tend to it and make sure it doesn't go out. Even if it does, though, the coals will be much easier to light next time around.
Cally steps outside her tent as the fire grows too hot. It isn't nearly large enough to burn anything, but with the already warm temperatures, any extra heat is unbearable. Cally coughs, swiping her hand in front of her face as the smoke stirs around her.
Well, this is one task off the list of things she wished to accomplish. Deciding the fire will last without her for a little while, Cally sets about carving one of the larger sticks she found into a spear. This way, she will hopefully be able to kill her own fish without having to rely on Atlas.
Cally climbs onto a large boulder that rests in the edge of the water near her tent. The water here is deeper, but it gives her a beautiful view of the sea. Future spear and sharp-ish rock in hand, Cally begins to scrape away the outer bark of one end of the stick.
The process is slow and arduous, being that the rock she is using is not the sharpest. She wishes she had the stone Atlas gave her back in the cave. After twenty minutes, only the outermost layer of bark is gone, and the tip isn't even close to being pointy. She takes a break to tend to the fire.
Twenty more minutes, and the rock no longer works well enough to carve away the inner layers. Ten minutes after that, and Cally's arms shake from the effort it takes to even scratch the inner wood with the dull rock.
"Argh!" In a fit of frustration, Cally chunks the rock out into the ocean. She fists her hands in her hair and tosses the stick aside.
"What are you doing?"
Cally jumps and nearly falls of the rock at hearing Atlas' deep voice. Resting a hand on her chest, she slowly calms herself down and takes deep breaths. Atlas cocks an eyebrow, an unimpressed look on his impeccable features.
"I w-was making a spear," she says, her voice small. A dark look casts a shadow over his face, his jaw clenching.
"Why?"
Noticing his rigid stance and angered expression, Cally's expression turns nervous and more than a little frightened.
"It was just so I could fish," she mumbles, subtly sliding backwards.
Suddenly, Atlas pulls himself onto the rock and reaches past her to grasp her half-finished spear. Instead of returning to the water, he stays there, settling himself on his back next to her.
Cally's body goes rigid as he shows no sign of distancing himself from her. His anger seems to dissipate, thankfully, though she remains uncertain as to what angered him so.
Cally's mind fogs as she stares at the creature before her. She had only seen him in the water, never in the open sunlight where she could fully see the extent of his body. She was amazed, yet frightened, at what she saw.
His tail was at least seven or eight feet long, the obsidian scales tinting green in the sunlight. It twitches and flicks occasionally, making Cally jump every time. Scales slowly turn into skin, revealing a prominent V-line between his hips. Lean, defined abs and a heavily muscled chest stare back at her.
Something she also notices, is the scales and small fins on the back of his forearms. She hadn't seen them before. Her gaze flicks back to his chest subconsciously, the multiple scars that litter his skin seem much harsher in the light of day than she had originally thought.
"Why must you fish? Have I not provided you with enough food?" He asks, though it is not with concern, but more like annoyance.
Flustered, she responds: "I--uhm--humans usually eat two or three times a day."
Atlas takes a moment to ponder this. He doesn't understand why humans would require so much food. His kind can go much longer without food than humans can. He had noticed, though, that she wasn't quite as soft looking as she was when he first took her.
"Why?"
At this point, Cally was almost tired of his constant questions, and her mind was still slightly frozen in fear of being so close to him.
"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.