adelphoi | (no subject)

[ the surface is a perilous place, forbidden by her peoples, and not without reason. theirs is an ancient colony, hunted near to extinction and so to preserve the whole they must take care. it has been many generations since last they interacted with the land creatures in any formal capacity, commerce and communion with mankind strictly forbidden since time immemorial. so much time has passed that more than like they have become myth to any who do not know the secret of their existence, and that is just as they prefer it. long lived as they are, new births are rare and come slowly; it will be millennia yet still to replenish their numbers to what they once were.

but alisaie has ever had a taste for the forbidden, a curiosity for the unknown, and a fierce wanderlust. she loves her peoples and her home but it is not enough, it shall never be enough, and as she grows and comes of age she is more and more dissatisfied.

they cannot stop her visiting the surface. theirs are a free people, and the sea is vast, parties of hunters and workers always coming and going. no one tracks her, and she says nothing of her visits above, of how she peers at passing ships and lays on warm rocks beneath the sun to watch the waves roll over the shoreline. she does not fear mankind perhaps as she should, and the more she quietly, secretly observes them, the more assured she becomes of their goodness. their behavior is not so different from her own, from what little she can glean from the lives of the sailors she watches - they laugh and love and suffer and work together, and they build such strange, incredible things..

she has watched this ship for several days, following its path, blending with pods of dolphins to swim near the surface during the day, risking more under cover of dark, when she peers through the portholes and listens to their voices on deck. their language is foreign to her, but the tones of their words speak plenty, their expressions easy to read. it's a small group of men, few, but perhaps they are brothers, for how fondly they seem to behave toward one another, laughing and sharing food, roughhousing playfully, the small, fair-haired one especially, who seems always to be smiling about something.

storms at sea are common and set in quickly, often with little warning. it's late in the night when it hits, stirring alisaie from her doze nearby, the crack and groan of wood cutting sharply through the water, the shouts of human voices muffled, but discernible to her keen ears.

alisaie is off like a shot, darting through the waters toward the source, but there is little enough to be done - the ship is split asunder before she can even reach it, and her heart sinks for those on board; the sea is no place for man, who braves much to sail her waters. they have paid the price. ]

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[ alisaie lingers for a few moments more, perhaps to pay respects to the lives lost, but it is not long before sh espies the hull of a small boat nearby, and hears the muffled voices - so they have made it, it seems. good. mayhaps they will learn that their feet belong on the land, and not above the water.

at last she turns to leave, but in the dimness catches sight of movement - a body struggling - one of them had not made it onto the little boat.

she should let it be. humans die every day to the sea, and in venturing over her waters they must know the risks that they take in sailing - it is not her place to interrupt what is his time, to save a life that is not hers to save. yet she does not leave. the words of her grandsire ring in her mind, and she cannot simply do nothing at all while another creature suffers, not when she has the means to save a life.

for all she watches them, alisaie has never interacted with a human. reckless and rebellious though she might be, there are lines even she will not cross, and she would never do anything to directly put her people in harms' way - they must not be found out. and yet she finds herself doing the impossible before she can even think not to. alisaie darts toward his shape, cutting like a knife through the water, finding the man in the darkness whose movements already begin to slow as he sinks surely, quickly, to his inevitable doom.

not today. alisaie seizes him and lifts his face, her gills flaring as she brings her mouth to his to breathe life back into his lungs, but she does not check to see if it revives him, only slips her long fingers under his arms and hauls him upward with several kicks of her powerful, silvery tail. the surface is not far, they reach it within seconds, but when she casts her gaze through the stinging rains she cannot find the small boat - it has so quickly been swept away from the site, and all that surrounds them is the wreckage of their fragile vessel.

thankfully for him, the shore is not far. nearby there is a lagoon scooped into the coastline that she has visited before, and she pulls him there as quickly as she can, heaving his body onto the wet sand, her tail still in the surf, and leans over him to look into his face. is he breathing? does he still yet live..? ]

[ It's all...a blur. An incomprehensible blur, Prompto barely hovering at the edge of consciousness, pulled back to it just when he's sure it will slip from his grasp. The sea and its darkness is all around him still, but something...happens. Though his mind can't comprehend it, someone...comes to him. One of his friends? No, they were all safely above the surface, they wouldn't be able to find him in this murky darkness even if they tried, and none of them better be stupid enough to try. But there is a presence there, brightening the edges of his awareness, and then there's touch. Small hands upon his face, a nose brushing his, a mouth upon his own, grant life back into his lungs.

And then he is pulled up from the depths by those same hands. How could hands so small be so strong? The ache in his lungs is not quite as intense as it was before his unknown savior came, but he is still short on oxygen, his brain going fuzzy, his thoughts made of cotton. Perhaps he is actually still sinking into the depths, embraced in death's delirium and sparing him from the full weight of his final moments, but...if this is how he goes, and least it's while feeling like he was important enough to be saved, despite all odds.

But the release of death doesn't come. He doesn't cease or give up the ghost or anything like that, and though his grasp on consciousness is still tenuous, he knows, distantly, that he has broken through the surface of the water, and soon enough, he comes to enough to realize he is lying on the sand of the shore, still near enough to feel the pull of the tide behind his legs, but enough on land that he needn't fear being pulled back into the sea.

He groans, shifting his sore, smarting limbs, drinking up that salty, sea air greedily, before his blinks his eyes open at last, peering up —

Into the face of a girl.

He's not quite cognizant enough to realize how strange this is, or, at least, to realize this isn't a dream. Was she the one who had saved him? She looks so small...but her face is radiant, beautiful, eyes dark as they storm she had found him in, hair whiter than the sands. It clings around her face as the sun dries it to her skin, and Prompto reaches out a hand to gently glide his fingers over her cheekbone.

...Are those...gills? ]

[ at first she thinks that it is too late, that her work was for naught and he has already succumbed, but soon enough he is gulping in fresh air, stirring.

she should leave, before he opens his eyes, before he sees her face and remembers too much, but she has.. never been so close to a human before, never touched one, or felt its breath, or seen the color of its eyes. alisaie cannot help but gaze upon him with wonder, one hand lifting carefully, her fingertips gliding over his nose, his jawline, the bow of his lips, down his chin. his skin feels similar to her own and yet still so.. different, less smooth and slippery. she thinks to peel his lips back to have a look at his teeth but his eyes are opening, his hand lifting, and she gasps in shock, jerking back.

this was foolish. she should have dragged him to the sands and turned away immediately, or left him to his fate in the depths of the sea, but he has seen her now, touched her -

perhaps it is not too late. he's disoriented, the light is faint, no doubt he will think he has imagined it all. quickly, alisaie turns to flip hastily back into the water, praying that she has not damaged her home and peoples with her recklessness. ]

[ His fingers barely graze her skin before she is flying away from him, and it's only then that he sees her for what she is. He sees her, but still, he doesn't understand it. Are his eyes playing tricks on him? Is the lack of oxygen getting to him? And yet, the shape of her body is unmistakable. If the gills didn't imply enough, it's hard to miss the way her skin gives way to scales, the shiny, shimmering fish tail that occupies the lower half of her body. As she draws back and away, Prompto bolts upright himself, his heart hammering in his chest.

A...a mermaid? But they were just legends, children's stories, or passed around by sailors as they bragged about the beauties of the sea they had seen. Prompto himself may have even claimed to see one on their little voyage, though it was likely just a trick of the light, but now that he sees her in full as she retreats into the water, it is unmistakable.

But she is retreating, and something calls out from his heart aside from curiosity. This girl saved him from drowning. He owes her his very life. And now she's leaving, probably startled away by his presumption to touch her.

It's a tall order to get his mouth to work, but he manages, even if he fumbles over his words. ]

W-wait! Come back!

[ Even if he knows it's futile. Even if she can't understand him, she won't heed his words. And a moment later, she disappears completely from view. ]

Gods above...