Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Water. Cold, heavy, dark. A burning, in his throat and lungs.

There’s only so long a human body can go without taking a breath before it forces one. After that, the throat either closes up and you suffocate or water enters the lungs. Either way, after that point, survival is unlikely.

After his father drowned, he read reports. Accounts from survivors. Scientific studies.

None of it has prepared him for the real thing.

He had just finished the construction of the Palace. His name was known throughout Sumeru. He was going to pay off his debt, get a new place, design more wonders.

Now, he won’t get to do any of that.

<><><>

Kaveh is nineteen, fresh out of his first year in the Akademiya.

Already, the pressure is intense. Kshahrewar hasn’t had a graduate who’s done much of, well, anything for a long time, and they’re already eyeing him as their next brilliant pupil. Light of Kshahrewar, they’re calling him, like they don’t see his low grades in most subjects or the way he gets in trouble in nearly every class. The lecture halls weren’t built for someone like him, with a focus that scatters on the lightest breeze and a constant habit of snapping his fingers or tapping his feet or doodling architectural designs in the margins of his class notes.

He’s already been yelled at by several professors for it, and that was just within the past week. And so, as Kaveh usually does, he goes to the shoreline to unwind, listening to the sound of the wind and the waves until the chatter in his brain fades.

He lets out a breath, long held in. 

Sure, going here late at night messes up his sleep schedule, but almost everyone in the Akademiya is running on only a few stolen hours of sleep and gallons of coffee. He’s made some friends, has a study group now. His grades are slowly getting better.

He lets out another breath.

A storm recently passed through with the end of the monsoon season, leaving the shoreline scattered with seaweed and driftwood. Tonight, Kaveh brings a lantern, hoping to pick through the debris in search of inspiration.

Instead of that, he finds a body.

They’re buried under seaweed and driftwood, but the outline of a head and arms are still visible. Still, Kaveh almost doesn’t notice them at first, until the sound of ragged breathing gives them away.

They look close to Kaveh’s age, maybe a year or two younger, with short silver-grey hair covered in sand. They don’t look injured, but Kaveh removes the seaweed to be sure.

Instead of legs, they have a sleek fish’s tail, the black scales reminding Kaveh of obsidian. Only they aren’t shiny, reflecting none of the light from the moon. The fins are teal, fading to a greener color near the tips and being edged with a dull golden color. Trailing lures extend from their fins and a shorter one from their head, flickering a faint teal as the creature twitches. The scales cover all of the creature but their chest, most of their face, and arms, scales starting again at the creature’s wrists.

Kaveh takes a step back. He’s familiar with Sumeru’s merfolk, but this isn’t one of them. Sumeru’s merfolk have bright, flowy fins that sparkle in the sunlight. They don’t have lures or glow or look like this.

They – he? – are a deep sea mer.

He’s never seen one before. Once, he had heard that the senior students were dissecting one. They’re rare, he knows. The merfolk from the reef talk about them with a mixture of fear and fascination. 

They rise up from the deep every night to eat mer who stray outside the reef.

They’re like a barracuda – the only thing in that brain is the instinct of a predator. Twice as hungry, though.

I met a mer from Inazuma who said they were the souls of evil mers, sunk into the depths to haunt the rest of us.

But are they really that dangerous? This one doesn’t look especially scary. He looks skinny, faint outlines of ribs showing near the creature’s flapping gills. He twitches every now and then, as if in pain. Can he even breathe air? Is he suffocating?

Dangerous or not, Kaveh isn’t going to let him die. But as he approaches the mer again, the creature’s eyes snap open.

Piercing, faintly glowing teal. Red at the center. No pupils, just wide irises that stare directly at Kaveh. The mer’s tail drags over the sand.

Waiting.

<><><>

It’s dangerous to leave the deep, Alhaitham has been told. Outside of the deep, the waters are everchanging, unpredictable. The sun, when it rises, is harsh.

And yet.

If Alhaitham has a fatal flaw, it is a hunger for knowledge. After his grandmother passed to the Below, he’s started to explore beyond his usual hunting grounds each night, when the setting of the sun drapes the shallows in comfortable darkness.

Tonight, though, he has failed to account for the unpredictability of the surface waters.

He recalls a roaring sound, a sickening crack from above. The way the waves churned. A blinding light, jagged and disorienting. Something heavy hitting his head.

Darkness.

Now, sand sticks to his scales and his hair, and each shuddering breath he takes scrapes the inside of his throat. His gills flap, dry and itching. His body must have switched to using its vestigial lungs, Alhaitham realizes. He’s never tested them before, though, and so he’s unsure for how long they’ll continue to supply him with proper oxygen.

Seaweed and driftwood are dragged off his tail through no power of his own, and Alhaitham’s eyes snap open.

Light. A lure, held out in front of a face. Colors Alhaitham has never seen. Crimson eyes, gold hair.

The figure shuffles backwards, and Alhaitham looks down to where their tail should be.

Legs.

It’s a human.

His grandmother’s warnings run through his mind. Humans are dangerous, predatory. With Alhaitham stranded on the sand, meters away from the ocean, this one has every advantage.

Alhaitham bares his teeth, a growl starting in his throat. If he’s dealing with a predator, all he has to do is convince it he isn’t worth the meal. He lights up the eyelike patterns on his body, lashes his tail.

The human’s eyes grow wide. Good, Alhaitham thinks, before the thing puts its lure down in the sand, crouching down in front of him. Still blocking the path to the water.

It’s smart.

“It’s okay,” the human coos, voice gentle. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Is the human mimicking words, or can it really speak? Alhaitham looks back to the being’s lure, still resting in the sand. It’s much larger and brighter than any of his. Clearly it hopes to lure in big prey.

Alhaitham hisses. Get away.

The human is undisturbed. “Did you wash up in the storm? I could probably find someone to check you ever for injuries, or–”

Alhaitham hisses again, flaring his fins for emphasis. He is not letting a human touch him.

This one makes an exasperated noise. It, or maybe he – this one is clearly intelligent – reaches into its bag, pulling out a small, edible-smelling object. Alhaitham is instantly alert, eyes on the food. He hasn’t eaten in nearly a week. It’s obviously a trap, but if he times things right, he might be able to get it out of the human’s hands on his way back to the water.

“Will you let me get closer if I give you some of my shawarma?” the human asks, holding out the object like Alhaitham is some sort of squid he hopes to bribe with a treat.

Surely, if the human desired to eat him, he would be dead already. Alhaitham is practically helpless on the sand. It would be an easy meal.

But the human hasn’t tried anything yet. Is there a reason he hasn’t?

“Fine,” Alhaitham relents, voice raspy from the air and a general lack of use. “But move out of the way so I can get back to the ocean first. I don’t know what happens if I spend too much time out of the water, and I’m not interested in finding out.”

The human nearly drops his bribe. “You can speak?”

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow. “You sound surprised. Is there a reason I wouldn’t be able to?”

Stepping out of the way, the human takes a moment to study him, eyes darting over his fins, his tail, his lures. “I don’t know. I’ve heard some things from the mer on the reef that I guess… weren’t true. My name’s Kaveh, by the way.”

“Alhaitham.”

The sand itches his gills and the space between his scales. The water beckons, a cool embrace. He can probably drag himself forward with his arms, but Alhaitham isn’t sure if he’s strong enough to do that.

“Do you want me to help you?”

Alhaitham turns. Kaveh glances at him expectantly. “Get back to the water, I mean. It looks like a pretty far distance to crawl, and your tail looks kind of heavy.”

“I don’t require assistance,” Alhaitham mutters, dragging himself forward. Unfortunately, Kaveh is right about his tail. On the beach, it’s essentially dead weight, and, as he soon learns, the limited capacity of his lungs to process oxygen makes any form of exertion difficult.

He huffs, gills flapping uselessly. Sand grates against the bare skin of his chest.

“This is painful to watch,” Kaveh mutters. “I’m gonna drag you the rest of the way, okay? Hold out your arms.”

…what?

Kaveh steps closer, offering his own hands for Alhaitham to grab on to. After more than a few moments of hesitation, he does, allowing the human to drag him the rest of the way to the water. He’s shocked at just how warm Kaveh’s hands are.

Water caresses his scales, gentle waves lapping against Kaveh’s ankles. Almost immediately, the vulnerability of being dragged back is replaced with a sense of deep relief. By the time the ocean has reached halfway to Kaveh’s knees, Alhaitham is able to move on his own.

He dips his head below the waves, drawing water into his mouth and through his gills. “I suppose you aren’t so bad,” he says once he emerges.

Kaveh folds his arms. “That’s a weird way to say ‘thank you’. Can you breathe air and water?”

“Do humans always ask invasive questions about the biology of other creatures?” Alhaitham asks. “I can breathe both. My lungs just don’t work very well anymore. They’re… less efficient than yours.”

Kaveh sits down on a rock, chin in his hands, feet dangling in the surf. “What do you mean, ‘anymore’?”

Alhaitham adjusts his position, dipping underwater for another breath. “I believe you promised me your edible item. You can have more questions later.”

The human laughs. “You mean the shawarma? Let me take it back out. I don’t know if you’ll like the vegetables in it, but you’ll probably enjoy the meat.” As he speaks, Kaveh removes several strips of meat from the ‘shawarma’ before handing them to Alhaitham. “What are you doing all the way at the surface, anyway?”

Gently, Alhaitham takes the food from Kaveh, feeling the way the heat radiates off his skin. He wonders if it’s a human thing, if all of them are this warm.

“Curiosity,” Alhaitham admits. He inspects one of the strips, then places it in his mouth. It’s richer than the fish he usually catches, closer in flavor to the meat his grandmother once took from the sinking carcass of a whale. But something is different about it, drier, with strange new flavors that Alhaitham can’t decide if he likes or not. He eats another.

“You can have the rest if you’d like,” Kaveh offers, setting the shawarma down on the rock next to him. “I’m not hungry, anyway.”

Foolish, Alhaitham thinks. In the deep, you eat at any chance you get.

Perhaps things are different on land. Food could be plentiful there. Or maybe this is the only meal Kaveh has had all week, and he’s just decided to share it with someone he just met.

The human takes out another object as Alhaitham inspects the shawarma, tries each of the items inside one by one. None are as good as the meat.

Once the meat is gone, he loses interest, instead investigating Kaveh’s new item. Small drawings, more detailed than anything Alhaitham’s grandmother has made in the sand, have been etched onto thin sheets. They seem to show some sort of cave or nest.

“Do humans live in those?” he asks, tapping the edge of the sheets. The surface immediately grows soggy and limp. “They seem oddly fancy.”

Kaveh nods. “Yeah! When I graduate, I’m going to design buildings for people to live in. They’re fancy because humans appreciate it when their living spaces are beautiful.” He makes a grumbling noise. “Most of them do, anyway.”

Alhaitham tilts his head. “That hardly seems necessary. A living space should prioritize function over form. Unless the gaudy decorations are to attract a partner?”

“What?!” The human’s face takes on a pinkish shade. “No! Form and function are of equal priority. The ability to appreciate beauty is a very important trait. It’s what keeps artists like me in business.”

“So it’s important because they’ll give you food if they like it?”

Kaveh huffs. “No! It’s important because art is an expression of the soul!”

“Hm.”

The human sighs. “Whatever.” He draws a few symbols next to the human-cave he’s sketched. Alhaitham stares.

“What are those symbols? Do they mean something?”

“Yeah,” Kaveh says. “They’re writing. Humans record information this way. I guess you can’t really do that underwater. The mer at the reef said that they recorded information through song.”

Alhaitham nods, drawn in by the promise of information. “We don’t sing in the deep as much. How long would it take you to teach me those symbols?”

“A while,” Kaveh admits. “It takes human kids years to learn to read.”

He could learn, Alhaitham thinks. Patience is a virtue he has plenty of. And what secrets would he be able to uncover from the books of humans? While it was true that the sea-silk scrolls his grandmother had hoarded held plenty of information, Kaveh is talking about land knowledge here.

He looks back to the ocean. It was unwise for him to have stayed this long. Going back to the shore in the future would only mean trouble.

And yet.

“It wouldn’t be much trouble for me to return here each night,” he says. “If you require something in exchange, I would be willing to indulge your curiosity about the deep sea if you show me how to decipher these symbols.”

Kaveh nods. The deal is struck.

<><><>

Water enters his lungs as the last of his air escapes through his mouth. It burns, hurts worse than anything he’s experienced before.

This shouldn’t be happening.

He still had so much to do. He still has to fix his mistakes. He still hasn’t apologized to Alhaitham.

He can’t die here.

<><><>

The creatures of the deep rise to the surface with the setting of the sun, and sink below once more. The waves change, become calmer. The creatures of the deep rise and sink again and again, for many cycles. Now, Alhaitham rises with them, joins Kaveh on the beach to read the ‘books’ other humans have written.

Kaveh has just turned twenty.

Alhaitham doesn’t quite understand why this is meaningful; in the deep, there is no turn of the seasons to mark the passing of time. There is just the Rising and the Falling, the times when the creatures of the midwater go to the surface to hunt and to the below to hide.

But Alhaitham understands that it is a day that is special to Kaveh, and it means something that he has chosen to share it with him.

Kaveh… isn’t like anyone Alhaitham has met. Not that he’s met many individuals over the course of his fairly solitary life – something he’s perfectly happy with – but still, Kaveh is unique. His mind is bright, filled with ideas. He dreams of becoming a famous architect, designing beautiful buildings.

Alhaitham still believes that function should come over form. Kaveh believes in a balance. They argue over this frequently, which Alhaitham enjoys, because debate is when Kaveh is at his finest.

Crimson eyes flashing, voice raised and clear, ideas flowing – something about this version of Kaveh fascinates Alhaitham.

He never thought he’d enjoy the company of someone so loud. But here he is.

“I brought kebabs!” Kaveh crows from across the beach. He’s jogging across the sand, Akademiya robe fluttering in the breeze. “They’re fish this time! I figured it would be cool for you to try the cooked version of your usual food.”

Alhaitham nods, accepting the gift as Kaveh sits down next to him. Cooked fish is definitely different from raw, the taste distinct with a flavor Kaveh describes as “smoky”. The stick is pleasantly crunchy, too, pairing well with the texture of the fish.

Kaveh stares at him, face somewhere between shock and horror. “You weren’t supposed to eat the stick!” he protests. “You’ll get splinters in your throat!”

Alhaitham just shrugs. “How did you spend your birthday?”

As they talk, Kaveh sketches. He’s been working on a project for the Akademiya, something involving a very fancy cave for a human that Alhaitham has learned is called a ‘house’. After Kaveh’s lantern goes out, he asks Alhaitham to sit next to him and provide some light with his lures.

Alhaitham thinks it foolish that Kaveh, despite not being able to see in the dark, is seemingly nocturnal.

While Kaveh draws, Alhaitham watches his hands, so similar to his yet so different. There are no scales, no fins, no claws. He holds his own hand up next to Kaveh’s to compare. No webbing, either.

Kaveh switches to drawing with his left hand, holding his right still and spreading his palm as if to let Alhaitham see.

Carefully, Alhaitham curls Kaveh’s hand into a fist, eliciting a surprised squeak from the human. Interesting. All the joints of their hands work in the same way.

The next thing he discovers is that Kaveh’s hand does have webbing, which is very short, nearly to the point of not being there, and only visible when he forces the fingers apart. It seems most prominent between Kaveh’s thumb and index finger, but even then, nowhere near enough to catch the water.

And just like the first time they met, Kaveh’s hands are warm. By now, Alhaitham has decided that this is a human thing. His grandmother had always been only a few degrees warmer than the surrounding water, and Alhaitham figures the same is true for him.

There’s an amused crinkle in the corners of Kaveh’s eyes as he studies Alhaitham. “What’s all that?” he asks.

“Scientific research,” Alhaitham states, pressing his palm to the underside of Kaveh’s arm. “It’s warmer on land than it is in the water. Is there a reason you need to make so much of your own heat?”

“Er…” Kaveh rubs the back of his neck. “I think you’re just cold. I mean, your hand is freezing. It’s also a bit slimy.”

Alhaitham hums, thinking. “So most humans have skin as dry as yours, then?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kaveh huffs. “I’ll have you know, my skincare routine is excellent! Most humans have much drier skin.”

Another seemingly human thing unfamiliar to Alhaitham. Given Kaveh seems to do quite a lot of things to make himself look pretty – which, as Alhaitham has pointed out, is quite foolish, as he already is – this ‘skincare routine’ is likely one of them.

“It hasn’t occurred to me to think of my scales as slimy,” Alhaitham says, studying his arms. “Most of the ocean feels like this. It’s normal.”

Kaveh reaches out, hand hovering over Alhaitham’s arms. “Can I feel it?” he asks.

Alhaitham ponders this. “I believe it would only be fair.”

The human’s fingers are warm as they brush against Alhaitham’s scales. Kaveh inspects the webbing between his hands, the fins on his arms, the space halfway to his elbows where his scales fade away into skin. Alhaitham expects the touch to bother him like it has with the few people beyond his grandmother that he’s met. He waits for the familiar revulsion to kick in, but it never does.

He almost misses Kaveh’s touch when it’s gone.

“Your scales are colder than your skin,” Kaveh notes. “But even then, you’re still really cold. I wonder if your lures produce any heat.”

“They don’t,” Alhaitham says. “The light just attracts fish.”

Kaveh’s eyes linger on him, his expression close to fondness. Alhaitham tilts his head. Is there something Kaveh wants? Then, without warning, the human reaches out and squishes Alhaitham’s face.

Alhaitham pushes himself off the rock. “Would that happen to have been another human thing?”

“Mm,” Kaveh hums, returning to his drawing. “Maybe.”

<><><>

A song echoes below him, akin to the mournful call of a whale. Words in a language he can’t understand, something ancient, even though the singer’s voice is eerily familiar.

Will he sink to the deep? Or will sharks and scavengers carry his body to the reef?

Someone he used to know had once told him that in the deep, every death is both a sorrow and a blessing.

The song sounds sad, something in the singer’s voice aching.

<><><>

He is 22 now, in his last year at the Akademiya. Kaveh has become the rising star Kshahrewar dreamed of, but still his constant tapping and unreliable focus make him the bane of certain professors, and the stress is wearing him down in ways he doesn’t talk about to Alhaitham. Every night he can, he goes down to the shoreline.

Alhaitham has graduated from picture books to scientific articles and dictionaries. The mer picks things up quickly, and his observations are sharp and astute. Like how Kaveh comes to the shore smelling of alcohol more and more nights. How he procrastinates and panics to rush a project at the last moment. How he spends a great deal of time worrying what others think of him. How he frequently splits his dinner with a being more than capable of catching food himself.

Sometimes, Kaveh wishes Alhaitham weren’t so observant.

Tonight, they discuss Kaveh’s latest project, a thesis on decoding runes from an ancient civilization now sunken under the waves. Alhaitham has been a great help with the project, as he’s been able to actually visit the ruins and transcribe some of their runes. The mer also has a talent for languages, and at this point he’s so intertwined with the project that Kaveh has vowed to put his name on the thesis.

Alhaitham has said it doesn’t matter, but he secretly seems proud.

Every now and then, Kaveh catches himself admiring Alhaitham out of the corner of his eye. Over the years, he’s grown a bit larger, his ribs no longer showing. His tail has gotten longer, too, and it now curls around the rocks, the edges of his fins sometimes brushing Kaveh’s ankles. Kaveh tries not to think about it too hard. Nothing good can come from wanting, anyway.

Something about the way Alhaitham’s mind works fascinates him. The way he’s so different from Kaveh and yet so similar to him. His brilliance, his bluntness, the way the world seems to him like a puzzle to be solved.

The way he listens to Kaveh, takes the time to understand him, in a way that no one ever has. Though perhaps, sometimes Kaveh thinks the mer knows him a little too well.

Weeks pass. The thesis grows every closer to completion.

And then they are fighting.

Kaveh is twenty-two and they are fighting, and Kaveh is saying words that aren’t true and that he’ll later regret, and Alhaitham is saying things that are true and hurt all the more for it.

And then Kaveh is thirty-one, and he is drowning.

<><><>

No. No.

It’s not supposed to end like this.

A light wavers in the distance. He’s heard that you’re supposed to see a light before death takes you. He’s out of time.

The song grows closer. Scales brush against his skin, the song pausing long enough for a single phrase, whispered in Sumerian:

“You are not going to die.”

<><><>

The present snaps back, sharp and vicious.

Kaveh is thirty-one, and he is drowning. The song is a roar in his ears now, and the next breath his body forces him to take is cold, but there’s a strange warmth blooming in his core, slowly spreading out into his frozen limbs.

“How has realizing your ideals gone for you, then?”

The voice is oddly gentle. Kaveh still can’t shake the familiarity of it.

Drowning doesn’t hurt any more. The pain has been replaced by an eerie calm, a warmth like someone’s taken him from the water and wrapped a blanket around him.

The song fades as Kaveh slips into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Pain, intense and indescribable. The cracking and twisting of bones.

The feeling of being warped, stretched, broken, put together again, only to be torn apart once more. Cold breaking through the skin of his arms, his back. A numbness, an ache, the echo of a song.

He’s not drowning any more. But he doesn’t know if this is any better.

<><><>

His body feels heavy. Foreign.

Water currents swirl around him, cold yet strangely gentle. He rests on something soft, blades of algae brushing his sides. If this is what it’s like to be dead, Kaveh supposes this isn’t so bad.

It’s calm. Peaceful.

Everything aches, though. There’s an odd feeling in his legs, like they’ve been tied together and weighted down with the sandbags they use for support on construction sites. Attempting to move them is only partially effective; they scrape over the algae slowly. Kaveh feels something dragging behind them, like seaweed.

He takes a slow breath, cold water filling his mouth. A crawling sensation spreads over his ribs, faint ripples emanating from the water in its wake. He’s been breathing all this time, Kaveh realizes. Breathing water.

If he’s breathing, he can’t be dead.

Slowly, Kaveh blinks, opening his eyes to be met with near-total darkness. As he stirs, sending waves through the water around him, a collection of small, jellyfish-like creatures near the ceiling light up, casting a pale lavender light around the area he’s in, which proves to be an underwater cave.

Now that he can see, Kaveh takes a look around. Holes in the wall of the cave – potentially large enough for him to squeeze through – expose glimpses of a rocky plain and strange silhouettes in the darkness. 

Another tunnel leads to what must be another part of the cave. Shelves have been chiseled into the rock, lined with… some of the ugliest items Kaveh has ever seen. He scrunches up his face at one of the statuettes, a tiny frog-faced lobster carrying a ship in its claws.

The color choices in the cave are… well, something. Tattered fabrics line the walls in a seeming attempt to be homey, but the variety of colors and textures are an eyesore even with the faded colors underwater. Maybe whoever brought him here is colorblind.

Because this is clearly someone’s home. Though atrocious, the design is intentional, created by someone with an eye for odd trinkets and mismatched textures. Which means, somehow, someone stopped him from drowning and brought him here.

Though, how have they gotten him to be able to breathe water? Kaveh takes another breath, the feeling of water in his windpipe so wrong, and yet, here he is, alive.

Kaveh tries to lift himself up to get a better look at the surroundings, but his legs won’t cooperate. They drag behind him like dead weight, shifting and bending in ways that shouldn’t be possible with human joints.

Maybe they’re broken. Maybe the someone – or something – that saved him only meant for him to be a meal for later. Maybe his legs are mangled and tied up with seaweed or rope, and that’s why they feel stuck together and heavy and bend at odd angles.

Something crawls over Kaveh’s ribs again as he sucks in another breath of water. He forces himself to look at his legs, knowing the sight is likely to be gruesome.

Instead of mangled legs, however, he is met with the large tail of a fish.

The scales are crimson, or at least Kaveh guesses that’s what they would be in better lighting. Under the pale jellyfish, they appear closer to a maroon. Patches of white and a deep, smoky grey cover the top of the tail, golden patterns tracing over the back and sides. Large white fins, speckled with black and traced with gold, wave gently in the water, fanning out behind Kaveh. The whole thing has to be at least five feet long, if not more.

To his growing horror, Kaveh realizes that the tail is attached to his torso, to him, scales spreading up to his naval and across his back, before falling down over his shoulders and starting again halfway to his wrists. The same red and grey and white and gold. More fins sprout from his arms, wavy and speckled like the ones on the tail.

The tail that is, undeniably, his.

Kaveh’s breathing grows erratic, the crawling sensation against his ribs more pronounced. The tail that he refuses to think of as belonging to him thrashes wildly in Kaveh’s failing effort to control its movements, sending him spinning through the water and straight into the wall of the cave. The stupid frog-crayfish is knocked off its shelf, gently floating down in front of his face.

This is a dream, he tells himself. It’s not real.

He repeats the mantra, over and over, as his fins flare out and he can feel it and it feels so real–

His poor attempt to rationalize the situation is brought to an abrupt halt when the water shifts again. Something large is moving towards him, sending ripples that Kaveh shouldn’t be able to feel at this intensity through the water as it approaches.

“You’re awake.”

Two words, said in a flat monotone, the voice strangely familiar. Kaveh looks up from his awkward position half on the wall, half on the floor, and meets the teal eyes of someone he’d never thought he’d see again.

Alhaitham floats in the water above him, obsidian tail and the lures on his fins waving lazily behind him. He’s changed a lot since Kaveh last saw him. The lines of his body are more rigid, his teal-green fins and lures longer. He’s put on some muscle, too – okay, quite a lot of muscle – and a green gem is embedded in the scales below his neck, right where they fade away to skin. A pair of rusted headphones is jammed awkwardly over his ear fins, something of clear human make.

He’s also gotten much, much longer. If the two of them were human, Alhaitham and Kaveh would probably be comparable in height, but the former’s tail is long, almost serpentine. He has to be at least twelve feet long from his head to his tail. Kaveh feels uncomfortably short in comparison, even though the new tail has probably given him a few feet of height. Or length, since they’re in the water now.

“It’s the standard to say hello after seeing someone for the first time in years,” Alhaitham says dryly as Kaveh continues to stare. “A thank you for saving your life would also be appropriate I believe.”

Of course it was him.

Of course, out of all the people, out of all the merfolk in the entire ocean, it had to be Alhaitham who found him. Who now got to see him, awkwardly between the floor and the wall, as, well, this.

Just great.

“Saving my life?” Kaveh blurts out. “Alhaitham, I’m a… a fish now!” He looks down at his body, another realization hitting him. “Where are my clothes?”

Alhaitham sighs, not offering a hand to Kaveh, which he should be doing, considering Kaveh still doesn’t know how to operate this new limb. “Your pants wouldn’t be much use to you now. I don’t believe they survived, anyway. I had to remove your shirt as it was blocking your gills. It and your cape are both here, as well as your jewelry, but the latter cape will cause significant drag in the water should you choose to wear it.”

Kaveh uses his arms to push himself into a more comfortable position. Thankfully, it’s far easier to do this in the water than it would be on land, a simple shift being enough to move his entire body. Only one sentence of what Alhaitham said has registered to him. He stares at the mer. “My. Gills.”

His voice comes out much closer to a croak than he’d like. He takes another deep breath, trying to force down the panic that again threatens to rise.

The crawling feeling starts on his ribs a moment later, and the realization hits Kaveh that those must be his gills.

Sure enough, slits have formed against his ribs, three on each side. With each exhale, they open, water rushing over his sides. Kaveh tugs at one, exposing red, brushlike filaments to the water.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he mutters.

“If you are, do it outside my cave,” Alhaitham says, swimming effortlessly around Kaveh. “And I wouldn’t recommend touching your gills. They’ll get infected.”

Kaveh lets the gill covering go, turning back to Alhaitham. “You can turn me back, right?” he asks, hoping Alhaitham won’t catch the pleading note to his voice. “I have a life on land I need to get back to. I’m an architect now. I already have three clients lined up to do business with me, who I’m supposed to talk to tomorrow–”

He leaves out the part about the disaster of the Palace. How he had to sell everything he owned. About his debt to Dori.

“You can still talk to them,” Alhaitham points out. “That is, if they would be willing to work with a mer and not a human. Because I can’t turn you back.”

“Why not?” Kaveh challenges. “I mean, well, you turned me. Can’t you make me human again? Undo the curse or whatever. Give me back my legs.”

Alhaitham’s fins ruffle. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you were drowning. By the time I found you, you were as good as dead. This–” he gestures to Kaveh’s tail– “is the only reason you’re still breathing. And it isn’t any power of mine that turned you. I asked the sea to save you, and she did.”

Kaveh pinches the bridge of his nose, scaled hands feeling strange and smooth against his skin. “So can you ask the sea to turn me back, then?”

“Look,” Alhaitham begins. “Even if you could ask the sea to take back her blessing, losing it would instantly return you to the state you were in before she saved you. When I found you, you were as good as dead. There wouldn't have been a life for you on land either way.”

His tail swishes, stirring up the faint currents in the cave. Kaveh sighs. “So, this is it then? I’m just – not human anymore.”

Alhaitham settles, leaning himself against the ledge of algae that seems to serve as some sort of makeshift bed. His tail sways lazily behind him. “No,” he sighs. “You’re not. The change fully equipped you for a life underwater. In addition to your tail and gills, you also should have a lateral line that picks up subtle vibrations in the water. There were also changes to the placement and structure of some of your organs, especially your lungs, but those won’t be very visible unless you decide to self-vivisect. You’ll notice that your nails are a bit closer to claws, though I wouldn’t recommend–”

“Stop!” Kaveh hisses. “Just. Stop.”

He turns away from Alhaitham, managing to curl his tail around himself. Fins brush against his face. “You’re shit at providing comfort, you know that, Alhaitham?”

The water hums as Alhaitham shifts. “It wasn’t my intention to provide comfort. I was supplying you with information.”

“Well, right now I don’t need information!” Kaveh snaps. His fins flare involuntarily. “I’m stuck I don’t know how deep under the water with a fucking fish tail for legs. I would appreciate some reassurance that I’m going to be okay, or something!”

Alhaitham sighs. “Well, as I seem to recall, I am ‘cold’ and ‘heartless’. You’d be better off asking someone else for comfort.”

It’s cruel of him, thinks Kaveh, to be throwing those words from their fight right back at him.

Or maybe it was cruel of Kaveh, for having said those things in the first place.

Kaveh’s fins flare again as he turns around, rising into the water, teeth bared. “You’re only just proving my point! You could be helping with this situation that you caused, but– look at my face, Alhaitham! Stop staring at my tail!”

Alhaitham tilts his head, eyes still focused on Kaveh’s ruffling tail fins. “It’s impressive how large your fins get when you flare them,” he notes, like this is some interesting scientific discovery to him and not the overturning of every aspect of Kaveh’s life. “And it doesn’t seem fair to blame me for how you fell into the water. You did that on your own. Would you rather I have let you drown?”

“I – that – I shouldn’t even have fins in the first place!” Kaveh protests. “I’m a human!”

A moment of silence, then a long exhale from Alhaitham. Ripples echo through the water from the flapping of his gills. “You aren’t anymore, Kaveh. I recommend you get used to it.”

Then he turns and swims away, leaving only waves in the current behind him.

<><><>

Maybe he had been too harsh on Kaveh.

He sits in the dark of his own room, tail curling in the algae. Kaveh hadn’t taken any of that well. The human – well, former human – had been rather sensitive, from what Alhaitham could remember of him.

He didn’t regret turning Kaveh. Despite their history, the man was still important to him. He wouldn’t have wanted to see him die.

But he probably would have been happier in the cave of someone else.

Not that it matters now. What’s done is done, and now Kaveh is his responsibility. Kaveh, who hates his new form and Alhaitham as well.

This isn’t going to be easy.

Alhaitham turns, inspecting his own fins, slowly lighting up the teal patterns on his tail. It’s not like he’s really talked to other merfolk beyond his grandmother. He doesn’t know how long it takes to get used to having a tail and gills and fins. He’d gotten used to it pretty quickly, according to his grandmother, but then again, he had been a toddler when he had been turned. He had barely learned to use his human legs before they were gone.

This life is… all he’s ever known.

Not that he minds it. It’s quiet, it’s peaceful, and since moving to this uneasy place between the depths and the shallows he’s had enough food to keep himself comfortable and enough darkness for his sensitive deep-sea eyes.

He thinks back to his new roommate. For someone so distraught with his new appearance, Kaveh was undeniably beautiful. He hadn’t exactly been hard on the eyes before he had changed, but now…

Alhaitham wonders if the gold patterns on his scales would sparkle in the sunlight. It’s not like Alhaitham would have been able to see them if they did. Getting close enough to the shallows during daytime to see the possible sparkle of Kaveh’s patterns would be enough to nearly blind Alhaitham.

It isn’t likely that Kaveh will accept help if offered freely. Alhaitham will have to disguise it behind selfish gestures and careless acts of forgetfulness.

Their relationship is far too strained, Alhaitham thinks, for it to be any other way.

<><><>

After Alhaitham leaves, Kaveh awkwardly returns to the algae-covered ledge, letting himself sink into the crowns. He curls his tail – it still feels weird to think of it as his – around himself until he can reach the end of it. His fins ripple, large and fanlike, reminding him of the decorative goldfish he’s seen in fishtanks. They’re much larger than Alhaitham’s fins, far less rigid.

He doesn’t have Alhaitham’s lures, either. Kaveh isn’t sure if any of his markings glow, but given the patterns on his scales, he doesn’t look like he’s made for the deep sea. He sighs, water rushing over his gills.

Everything feels too present. He can feel every subtle shift of the current, every push of water over his new gills. His scales feel smooth and faintly slimy and it leaves Kaveh feeling gross, wrong. His jaw shifts differently, tongue running over teeth that are too sharp to be his.

Kaveh’s fingers twitch. He picks at the algae so he won’t pick at his scales, the blades tearing easily in his clawed hands.

If what Alhaitham said was true – and it probably was, given the guy is frustratingly correct most of the time – he’s stuck in this form forever. But there has to be a way out. He’s heard of shapeshifting spirits before, of witches who can change one’s form. If he can seek one of them out–

That’s a thought that will have to wait for the morning, Kaveh decides with a yawn.

He drifts off to sleep, comforting himself with the small hope that tomorrow he’ll wake up on dry land. He knows he won’t, but sometimes, it’s easier to pretend.

<><><>

Whispering. Currents.

Scales shimmering in the water. The sleek movement of a tail, the ruffle of fins. Humming, a song, song over and over, familiar and worn.

It’s not home. Not yet.

But the ocean is a place of refuge, and maybe it will be a home one day.

<><><>

When Kaveh wakes to the faint light of sunset filtering through the water, the illusion that any of this could be a dream is short-lived. Something is pinching his tail fin, and a quick inspection reveals it to be a small crab, which Kaveh shakes off.

Both the pain and the ability to control his fin confirm that this is, in fact, reality.

He groans.

At the very least, it’s easier for Kaveh to move his tail, not that he’s gotten used to it.

Used to it is a strong phrase. It might be more accurate to say that Kaveh has accepted the fact of its existence.

That doesn’t mean he likes it.

He tries to move the tail the way he’s seen Alhaitham do, slowly swishing it up and down to push himself forward. It takes a few tries and a bit of clinging onto the wall to make it to the main area of the cave, where Alhaitham is already awake.

“I think we should discuss your future,” Alhaitham says, not looking up from the sea-silk scroll he’s holding. Kaveh stops in his tracks. He feels his fins ruffle. The casual permanence of that statement.

“Good morning, it’s nice to see you too,” he huffs, bitterness creeping into his tone. “Or good night. I’m guessing this is where you tell me to find my own cave, then? Just turn me into a fish and cast me out into the waters. Alhaitham, I’m an architect. On land.”

“It’s good to see that you’ve accomplished your dream,” Alhaitham says, voice devoid of sarcasm despite the comment reeking of it. His lures flicker, familiar eyelike patterns lighting up across his tail. “And I have no intention of kicking you out. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to let you stay here for free. I have no use for shells, but as you get used to a life underwater, I’ll expect you to take on an equal share of the hunting, scavenging, and cleaning.”

Kaveh frowns, fins slowly relaxing. “That seems… oddly fair. What’s the catch?”

“There is none,” Alhaitham says, turning around in the water to face him. “Your current situation is partially my responsibility. Because of that, it falls to me to make sure you’re prepared to live on your own eventually. Give me your hand.”

Kaveh offers his hand, and Alhaitham presses his palm to the underside of his arm. “Interesting. You’re still warmer than me. The difference is less now that you’re a mer, but–”

“Stop that,” Kaveh hisses, flaring his fins and yanking back his arm. “Getting me turned into a fish does not mean I get to be a science experiment for you.”

His stomach grumbles. When was the last time he ate? After selling everything he owned and still not being able to cover his debt to Dori, Kaveh hasn’t really had the spare mora for a full meal. Sure, Lambad, owner of the half-aquatic bar down by the docks, had taken pity on him and given him a few extra bites, but that’s been about it. Kaveh glances at Alhaitham. “Is there anything to eat down here?”

Alhaitham shrugs. “Plenty. You just don’t know how to hunt yet. That being said, if you dig around in the mud you might be able to find some bivalves.”

“I don’t know what the fuck a bivalve is, Alhaitham,” Kaveh mutters through gritted teeth. His tail thrashes. “But it better be edible.”

Okay, so he’s pretty sure it’s something with a shell, but he dropped biology after his professor repeatedly yelled at him for snapping his fingers in class.

“It’s a type of mollusc with a hinged pair of shells,” Alhaitham says. “Almost all of them are edible. The only species that isn’t edible lives off the coast of Natlan and accumulates a species of toxic algae in its tissues. The ones here are perfectly safe. There should be some clams near the rock shaped like one of your elaborate human archways.”

Kaveh ruffles his fins. “Aren’t you going to come with me? You know, to help me find them?”

“No,” Alhaitham says. “As they say, experience is the best teacher.”

<><><>

Kaveh is pissed at him. Alhaitham can tell by the way he swims off, thrashing his tail in a way that is entirely unnecessary and only makes his already unsteady swimming more unsteady. His technique is poor, and it seems he’s been attempting to copy Alhaitham, which likely won’t end well in the long run given Alhaitham’s tail is longer and his fins are shaped differently.

He should take Kaveh to Aaru Reef. The merfolk there will be able to teach him better, will be more in tune with his needs.

But selfishly, he wants Kaveh to stay. Alhaitham wants to know what he’s been doing in the nearly a decade they haven’t talked, what he’s created, what human houses have his artistic touch on them.

Alhaitham returns to his scroll, eyes roving over the symbols. It’s difficult to record information underwater, and sea-silk is expensive to weave. His grandmother’s collection is probably his most priceless treasure.

A few minutes into the history of King Deshret’s sunken civilization, Kaveh swims awkwardly through the entrance carrying a handful of clams.

“Do you have… I don’t know, some sort of knife?” Kaveh asks. “I found the clams. I just need to get them open.”

“So you did,” Alhaitham murmurs. “There are a few knives on the shelf. I would recommend you use the one constructed from scrap metal to get the clam open. The whale bone knife is for hunting only.”

Kaveh falls silent as he attempts to shuck the clam. Alhaitham watches, until the smell of raw clam filters through the water and Kaveh holds an opened clam in his hand. “You want some?” he asks, holding it out to Alhaitham, who shakes his head.

“So you haven’t lost that habit,” Alhaitham notes. “Offering your food to those who can already hunt isn’t going to do you any favors in the ocean. And I don’t like the texture of clams.”

Kaveh huffs, flares his fins. “I was trying to be nice!” He cuts the meat out of the shell, popping it into his mouth and promptly gagging.

The corner of Alhaitham’s mouth twitches involuntarily. He’d had the same reaction when his grandmother offered him clam as a kid. Kaveh shoots him a glare. “Ick. Is there anything you can find to eat here that isn’t made entirely out of slime and mud?”

Alhaitham shrugs. “You could look for a crab. Aaru Reef also farms shrimp. If you take your clams there, you could potentially trade for some.”

Kaveh turns away, glancing outside the cave. “I’m going back to sleep,” he grumbles, half-swimming, half-dragging himself back to his room.

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow. “I believe you just woke up.”

“I am going to pretend,” Kaveh hisses. “That I am still dreaming, and when I wake up I will have legs and no ridiculous fins or gills.” His fingers drum against the rock, fins ruffling and twitching like the way Alhaitham used to see him tap his feet. Alhaitham sighs.

“Very well. I will be waiting here when you wake up.”

Kaveh’s fins wilt. “I hope not.”

Chapter Text

Kaveh wakes to the faint light of morning filtering in through the water and a chorus of thrumming and grunting. Now and then, a low, horn-like sound breaks through the chorus, and Kaveh slaps his hands over his ears to silence the noise.

His hands are met with large fins that extend from where his human ears used to be. Kaveh hisses softly, grimacing as he remembers where he is.

Or, more accurately, what he is.

It’s still overwhelming. His lateral line picks up every trace movement in the water, amplifying each twitch of his fins or flutter of his gills. Kaveh’s usually been good at handling large amounts of sensory input – partly due to practice, partly due to the constant pressure to “get over it”. But this is something else entirely.

He doesn’t like any of this: the way his fins react to his emotions automatically, the way his breath feels crawling and wrong, the way his scales are coated with a thin membrane of slick film that makes him shudder every time he touches them.

The way his own body doesn’t even feel like his anymore.

The chorus outside continues, and Kaveh curls in on himself, frustrated by his helplessness. Every other time life has pushed him down, he’s managed to get back up. There’s always been something he can do. Pull an all-nighter. Skip a few meals. Sell his house.

Here, there’s nothing.

The rustle of the currents announces the arrival of Alhaitham. Accompanying him is a metallic tang in the current and a pulse of something vaguely sweet fading in and out of his senses, and Kaveh’s stomach grumbles.

“I caught a squid,” Alhaitham informs him. “It’s too large for me to eat alone, so I suggest we share it. You should eat, anyway.”

Kaveh turns, raises his head. Alhaitham is holding a muddy red-violet squid that is nearly human-sized, its mantle torn in places by the mer’s claws. While the squid clearly lost whatever battle it had with Alhaitham, it hadn’t gone down without a fight: several patches of Alhaitham’s scales had been torn away, with some of the scales still clinging to the tentacles of the squid.

“Why?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Alhaitham tears a tentacle off the squid, offering it to Kaveh. “It wouldn’t do much good for you to starve, would it? Besides, it would hardly be reasonable to expect me to finish this thing myself.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Kaveh huffs, but he takes the tentacle anyway. “Do you just expect me to eat it raw? Like a shark? What if I get food poisoning?”

“Mhm.” Alhaitham swims a lazy circle around the room, flicks of his almost serpentine tail sending faint ripples through the water. Kaveh notices he avoids the faint light from the window-like opening, settling with his back facing it. “I don’t exactly see where we would cook it, anyway. Are human immune systems really so weak?”

“Yes!” Kaveh protests. “I mean – humans eat raw fish in Inazuma, but you have to prepare it first! Clean it and all that!”

Alhaitham takes a bite of the mantle, his teeth tearing cleanly through the squid’s soft flesh. The water turns coppery, the sudden intensity of the smell? Taste? Startling Kaveh. “You aren’t human. You can eat raw squid. Besides, your body is going to require some form of food if you plan on having the strength to hunt on your own.”

Kaveh stares at the tentacle, pokes the suction cups at the end. The hooks at the ends of each sucker – are those the source of Alhaitham’s injuries? – only serve to make the tentacle look less and less like something that Kaveh could reasonably eat.

He sighs. “I just want fatteh. Or a samosa.”

He… could go to Lambad’s tavern. Part of the seating was aquatic, meaning it was frequented by reef merfolk, and the owner was half-mer himself. The only problem is his current lack of mora.

If he went to Lambad’s, there was a chance he could find his potential clients. See if he could salvage the meetings. Maybe…

“The squid isn’t bad. Just eat it.”

Kaveh sighs and takes a hesitant bite of the squid. The taste is mild, somewhat briny – not as unpleasant as he expected. He had thought the squid would be soft and tender, but it's surprisingly chewy. What unsettles him is the feeling of his presently sharp teeth slicing through it. Like Alhaitham’s teeth, they do so cleanly, easily, cutting through the meat despite its toughness.

He turns his attention to the buzzing and grunting noises outside the cave. Something to keep Kaveh’s mind off… well, all of it. Anything to think about besides his current state.

“What’s that sound outside?”

Alhaitham tilts his head, as if listening. “It’s the fish. They sing every morning. They’re louder if you get closer to the surface. But since we’re still on the edge of the reef, we can hear them.”

Kaveh sighs. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”

<><><>

The ocean is full of song, though perhaps it would not be considered such to the ears of humans. Certainly not to the Akademiya. But to those who live below the waves, the ocean hums with it.

The mournful call of whales. The croaking of fish. The clicks and whistles of dolphins. The snapping of pistol shrimp, the rustling of the waves.

All of it song.

<><><>

After they eat, Alhaitham insists they visit something he refers to as a ‘cleaner station’, claiming something is stuck in one of his gills.

“You’re forgetting I just got here,” Kaveh points out. “I don’t know what that is.”

Alhaitham, halfway out the entrance of their – his – cave, looks back. “I would like to get my gills cleaned. Ask on the way.”

Kaveh, more than a bit confused, follows him out. If anything, it’s a chance to get to see more of the reef. Even if Kaveh wants to – and he really does – he can’t just sulk in his cave all day, eating raw squid.

He has to admit, though, the squid wasn’t all that bad.

His surroundings are more clear in the light, even if it is weak, and he can make out the shapes of colorful corals, odd rock formations, and fish flicking in and out of hiding places.“So are you going to actually tell me what a cleaner station is or are you going to be frustratingly mysterious?”

“I’m being efficient,’ Alhaitham says. “We want to get there before the larger fish do. And to answer your question, cleaner stations are where fish, merfolk, and turtles go to get their scales, teeth, and gills cleaned.”

“How?” Kaveh asks. Questions bubble up. “Do you like… use sponges or something to clean yourselves? Is there a reason you couldn’t just have one in the house so we wouldn’t have to travel all this way?”

Alhaitham veers upwards, tail rippling. Kaveh struggles to keep up, his movements clumsy and unpracticed in comparison. Alhaitham pauses to let him catch up.

“You aren’t going to get very far like that,” the deep sea mer says. “You need to be holding your fins differently. Your tail fin should be doing most of the work.”

“I’m trying to copy you!” Kaveh hisses.

Alhaitham folds his arms. “I can tell. Which is why your swimming is so ineffective. Our tails and fins are shaped differently. You’re trying to swim as if yours were longer than it is.”

“Bastard,” Kaveh mutters. But once he gets the rhythm of his tail, it’s easy to keep up with Alhaitham. Spirits, he could probably outpace him if he tried.

The feeling of moving a tail to swim is so different from that of walking; it uses completely different muscles that wouldn’t exist in human legs. After a few minutes Kaveh decides he really isn’t a fan of it. Actually moving the tail makes it feel that much more real, that much more his.

He sighs, tugging at the fins on his arms.

“Okay,” he mutters, desperate for another distraction. “You still haven’t answered my question. How do the cleaner stations even work?”

Alhaitham pauses, tugging a band of woven kelp over his eyes. It takes Kaveh a moment to remember that the deep sea mer is more sensitive to light. “The cleaner stations are manned by certain types of shrimp or fish that remove parasites and dead tissue, as well as any food stuck in your teeth. Ah. We’re here.”

As they round the corner, Kaveh is suddenly struck by just how bright the reef is.

How beautiful.

Sunbeams filter through the water. Bright corals grow in shelves, branches, or clumps, almost making the reef look like a forest. Fish of various shapes and sizes cluster around the coral, darting among the branches, their scales even more vibrant than their surroundings. As Kaveh turns, taking it all in, he realizes that his own scales are sparkling in the sunlight. The gold patterns tracing over his fins and tail shimmer.

Alhaitham is watching him, making Kaveh realize that the mer can still probably see something through the kelp blindfold.

Is he staring at Kaveh’s scales?

Is he staring at Kaveh?

Suddenly uncomfortable, Kaveh tugs at his arm fins. “Well?” he asks. “Are we there?”

“Almost,” Alhaitham says, attention breaking away from Kaveh. “We need to find the line.”

He swims forward, pausing at another cluster of fish gathered around a coral shelf. Kaveh floats behind him, focusing on the bright colors of the reef fish instead of his own scales. If Alhaitham hadn’t been wearing the blindfold, what expression would he have seen on the mer’s face?

Kaveh tugs at his arm fins again. A minute passes. They’re still waiting.

“We’re waiting in line behind fish, Alhaitham,” Kaveh points out. “Why are we doing this?”

“Cleaner station rules,” Alhaitham says, like that explains anything. “It’s polite to wait your turn. The manners on land must be atrocious.”

Kaveh huffs. The line inches forward, a few small blue and yellow fish darting around Kaveh inquisitively. “You’re one to talk about manners,” he grumbles.

Alhaitham, to his credit, doesn’t respond.

“It’s our turn,” he says instead, settling down on the coral shelf. Kaveh hesitates. The tiny fish around him grow ever more inquisitive, poking at Kaveh’s tail and fins. Up close, he can see that a black band runs down the sides of the fish, fading into the blue scales closer to the tail. Why are they this close to him?

A fish Kaveh has failed to spot wriggles into his gills, and Kaveh panics at the feeling of something moving in an organ that shouldn't even be there.

He chokes out a startled noise, trying to dislodge the fish. His fingers sweep through his gill vent, sending another spasm of discomfort through him as they brush against the delicate gill filaments. The tiny fish eventually darts out, but the others still investigate Kaveh with a similar curiosity.

“Help me!” he hisses to Alhaitham, who watches with a faint look of amusement.

Why isn’t he helping? Kaveh is being swarmed by tiny fish that are trying to get into his gills and Alhaitham is just watching.

“They’re cleaner wrasse,” Alhaitham explains, like that makes any sense to Kaveh. “They remove parasites or dead tissue, as I told you earlier. It will be a lot easier if you relax.”

Kaveh fails to relax. The feeling of fish picking at gills he shouldn’t even have is too strange and uncomfortable to ignore. A violent shake of his body scatters the cleaner wrasse like frightened birds.

“I’m not doing this,” he declares. “Alhaitham, I’m human.” His voice breaks on the last word, but he ignores it. “I miss the trees and cooked food and being able to draw. I just want to go home.”

He leaves out how there is no home. Not anymore.

Alhaitham watches him, cleaner wrasse still picking at his scales. “And what do you want me to do about it, Kaveh?” he asks, his tone measured. “In case you’ve forgotten, I am also bound to the water.”

Kaveh wants to – no, he needs to – reclaim his human life. He can do this without Alhaitham. He can swim to Lambad’s, find his clients, work something out.

Being an architect had always been his dream. He isn’t going to let being a… well, fish take that away.

Without a word to Alhaitham, he turns away and swims for the shallower, brighter water he hopes will lead him to the surface.

<><><>

After Kaveh swims off in a huff with no explanation as to where he’s going, Alhaitham settles back down onto the coral. He’ll come back eventually.

The reef is safe, anyway. The worst thing Kaveh could do is eat something he wasn’t supposed to, and Alhaitham doubts he’ll do that.

He still worries.

Nana, he wonders. How would you do this? Alhaitham had tried. He had salvaged things from shipwrecks, human things, and placed them in Kaveh’s room so the cave wouldn’t feel so unfamiliar. Tiny art pieces, like the statue Kaveh had looked at with such disdain. Patterned fabrics. He knew the former human loved art, so he had tried to place reminders of it in the cave. He had provided concise information and a place to stay.

He still remembers Kaveh shivering in the water as his tail started to form, gills fluttering for the first time as he took desperate breaths. The scrunched-up look of pain on his face. The scream as something within him cracked.

Had it been that painful for Alhaitham, when he had been turned?

Something Alhaitham is doing isn’t working. He’s missing something vital, that much he can tell. It’s clear that Kaveh isn’t happy, and the land still calls to him.

Alhaitham huffs. What can he do?

He could look for Kaveh, for one. But the architect probably wants space, wants Alhaitham to give him space. He sighs.

If Kaveh isn’t back by the Rising, he’ll go look for him.

<><><>

A glass slammed onto the counter.

“Do you really think I want to work with a fish?”

Folded arms, narrowed eyes. Teeth bared, ever so slightly.

“So you show up an entire day late like that? Tch, you just wanted to run away with some undersea lover.”

A mutter of disdain, a voice sharp as breaking glass.

“How are you going to be able to draw blueprints or supervise construction when you’re stuck in the water?”

A look of pity, worse than the cruel words that came before it.

“You’d have better luck just selling your own scales.”

<><><>

Kaveh sits in the aquatic section of Lambad’s alone, slumped over the counter, tail dangling in the water. A few feet away from him, two women, a large mer and a human, are locked in a heated embrace, oblivious to Kaveh.  The final prospective client is just leaving after more than a few harsh words. In the end, they offered to buy a few of Kaveh’s scales for a pouch of mora.

What else is he supposed to do? He still owes money to Dori. There didn’t – and still doesn’t – seem to be any other way.

Kaveh rubs the sore area on his arm where he had removed the scales. The skin beneath feels raw, blisters forming at the edges. A part of him is relieved to see them gone, but most of him is already regretting the decision.

He downs half the glass in front of him, the alcohol burning his throat on the way down. It takes a few tries to get the liquid to go to his stomach and not his gills, and the delicate gill filaments are still stinging.

Ever since Kaveh was a child, he had known what he wanted to do. Architecture had been his dream, his passion.

And now, his dream is gone. Taken from him, just like his legs and his normal routine and his humanity and his life.

All gone.

He finishes the glass, feeling the edges of his vision begin to blur. How is he supposed to draft blueprints underwater? Find clients when all they’re going to see is a fish?

Footsteps sound in front of him. A gruff voice speaks.

“Thought I’d check in on you.”

Kaveh raises his head. Lambad stands in front of him, arms folded, face lined with concern. He stands a head above the rest of the patrons – “Got the height from my baba, he was an open ocean mer” – and, while human in shape, has the arm and ear fins of a mer. He had created the tavern so humans and merfolk would have a place to drink together. So his two worlds wouldn’t be separate anymore.

Now, Kaveh appreciates it more than ever.

“I’m… fine,” he mutters. “Just… a drink after a meeting, heh…”

As he trails off, Lambad sighs. “So what happened? I’m guessing this wasn’t the reaction you were quite hoping for when you got turned.”

“It wasn’t,” Kaveh mumbles. He fixes his eyes on the glass in front of him. “Spirits – I didn’t even want to be turned. My stupid… I don’t know. Roommate. Cavemate? Did this. Fucking — turned me into a fish and now my entire life is gone. No one wants to hire an architect who can’t go onto land.”

Lambad’s eyebrows furrow. “Someone turned you against your will?”

Kaveh shakes his head. “Not really. Sort of. I was gonna die… I mean, I would have drowned if he didn’t. Doesn’t mean I’m happy about any of this, though.”

He pauses to take another drink. What is this, his second glass? Third? It’s hard to tell anymore.

“I’m grateful to be alive,” Kaveh admits. “It’s just… I didn’t fucking choose any of this.”

He swallows hard. “Now they’re treating me like I’m something less than them just because I look different and everything feels wrong and I miss my old body and I just…”

“Want to go back to land.”

The voice comes from next to him, and is far smoother than Lambad’s gruff tone. Kaveh startles, fins flaring, and is met with a rather tired-looking Alhaitham. The dim light of the tavern reflects off his teal eyes, the mirror-like effect similar to a cat’s. His long tail trails behind him, his lures and markings glowing softly.

A few people in the bar back up, eyeing the deep sea mer warily. Kaveh eyes him as well, frowning. “What are you doing here?”

He’s aware that his voice probably sounds tipsy, that he looks worse for wear. Alhaitham sighs, eyes tired.

“Kaveh,” he mutters. “You’re not sober. It’s time to go back.”

<><><>

A large hand grabs Alhaitham’s shoulder as he turns to leave with Kaveh. He recoils at the sudden contact. The tavern owner – Lambad, Alhaitham thinks his name was – is standing behind him, a serious look on his face.

“You’re the one who turned him,” Lambad says — not a question.

Alhaitham pauses. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“He told me about you, you know.”

When Alhaitham doesn’t respond, Lambad continues. “Even though you did it to save his life, Kaveh didn’t want this. And if I’m being honest, I don’t think he wants to live with the one who put him in this situation. This is your responsibility.”

Alhaitham sighs, fins wilting. “In that case, put what he ate and drank on my tab. Do that going forward, too.”

He owes Kaveh more than that. Much more. But this is the least he can do.

Lambad lets him go, though Alhaitham can sense the man’s reluctance as the sensation from his grip lingers.

The swim back to the cave is long, and Alhaitham soon learns that a tipsy Kaveh is a loud Kaveh.

“And it was seventy percent complete,” Kaveh is lamenting. “Seventy! Percent! And then out of nowhere, a tsunami wrecks everything!”

“Is that so?” Alhaitham asks. “The caves you designed years ago looked very stable.”

“Exactly!” Kaveh shouts. “And I built it high enough on a cliff that no wave should have been able to reach it! Tighnari – oh, he’s a coast watcher, he had been helping me survey the area – was convinced the wave wasn’t natural in origin. Anyway, I basically had to sell everything I owned to rebuild it, even my house, but it’s not like it matters now.”

His tone is flippant, the edges of his words slightly slurred, but Alhaitham can see the sadness behind his eyes. “Where did you stay after that?”

Kaveh sighs. “On the streets for a bit. Lambad eventually gave me a room out of pity. It wasn’t as if there was anyone I could ask, anyway. I didn’t want to burden Tighnari, and I wasn’t really friends with anyone else. I, er, really just stayed at Lambad’s all day, drinking until I couldn’t think anymore.”

A tipsy Kaveh, Alhaitham is also learning, is a very honest Kaveh.

“For someone who keeps mourning his life on land,” Alhaitham points out, “you don’t seem to have had much of one.”

Kaveh twists around, and, with an unexpected burst of strength and agility given his tipsy state, slams Alhaitham into the seabed, pinning him against the sand. Spikes flare out from the base of his tail fin, his wrists. While Alhaitham doesn’t know if they contain venom, he’d rather not find out the hard way.

“But it was a life,” Kaveh hisses, sharp teeth bared, a growl starting in the back of his throat. “And it was mine. And you took that away.”

His claws are digging into Alhaitham’s shoulders; the tang of iron stings his gills. It hurts, but Alhaitham doesn’t move. A large part of him is well aware that he had this coming.

Alhaitham is a realist. He had never harbored any false hope that Kaveh would be happy to see him after the things they had said to each other. He had just failed to account for how much Kaveh would miss the life on land he no longer had.

“And what do you expect me to do?” Alhaitham asks. The water between them churns, cloudy with sand. “As I’ve told you, I can’t change you back.”

He winces as Kaveh’s claws press harder. The architect’s expression is more pained than Alhaitham’s, his jaw clenched, his stare icy.

“Kaveh,” Alhaitham says, tensing at the pressure from Kaveh’s claws. Despite the pain, he keeps his body still. “This isn’t going to help. I admit I failed to consider the complexities of the situation when I turned you. We can find another way. But putting your claws in me won’t turn you human.”

Kaveh sighs, then releases Alhaitham, body going limp in the water. His spines sink back into his scales.

“I know you can’t fix this,” he mutters. “But I’d appreciate it if you could have a little sympathy. I’ve just had a traumatic near-death experience, and now I’m in a new environment with entirely different biology. Spirits, I have to live in a cave now. A horribly decorated cave, by the way.”

Alhaitham’s long tail stirs the sediment as he returns to his place in the water column. The marks on his shoulder sting. “Would you be less upset if I allowed you to redecorate the cave?”

Slowly, Kaveh nods. His breathing steadies as he ruffles his fins indecisively.

“Fine,” he says at last. “But you’re following my artistic vision. Got it?”

Alhaitham nods. He’s familiar with Kaveh’s old sketches. Whatever the architect does to his cave will certainly be visually appealing, if a bit too elaborate for Alhaitham’s tastes, in addition to being structurally sound. He trusts the architect’s judgment.

“Very well. Tomorrow we will head to Aaru Reef for supplies.”

A small smile, the start of a grin, crosses Kaveh’s face. “You’re paying.”

<><><>

The sea takes as much as it gives, perhaps more.

He is learning this quickly. A life on land is now out of reach, a thing of the past. As is his career, the respect of the humans around him, his dreams.

All gone. Washed away with the tide.

But perhaps, something new will be brought in.