He wiggled his toes and gently touched the soft skin where his scales had been only moments before. His skin felt soft and warm and slightly damp. Reed blinked in surprise at the sudden need for air that his lungs made, his mouth opening in a demanding gasp as he breathed in the sky instead of the sea.
“Ow…,” he murmured, rubbing at his chest.Well, it’s not pleasant, but it isn’t the wish-for-death type of pain ourancestors spoke of,he thought to himself.That’s something, at least.
As Reed attempted to get to his feet, he found himself tipping one way and then another. His human legs could barely hold him; the muscles lacked the years of strength and hard work that his tail had always had. This might be trickier than he had originally expected.
Slowly, he managed to get steady on his feet, to find the right way to balance his new form. Reed ran one hand through his temple, pulling his black hair from his face as he brushed away the last drops of seawater. He felt his torso, neck, shoulders, and face—everything there seemed to be the same as ever.
At his waist, though, where his tail normally began, instead he found a scattering of turquoise scales disappearing beneath a small white cloth. Mer hardly worried about things like clothing, but the humans he could see here all wore some form of covering over their torsos. He would likely need to acquire something from one of the shops to blend in.
“Hey! Watch out,” called a voice to his right, causing Reed to startle.
A white ball struck him in the shoulder and he toppled onto the sand, landing hard on his bottom. It knocked the wind out of him, hitting the ground that hard, and the sensation was completely novel to him. One could not fall in the sea. Or stumble.
Among the mer, Reed was considered quite graceful and lovely. On land, it seemed, that would not be the case. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“Sorry about that,” said a man as he jogged over. “Can you toss that back?”
“W-what?” his voice came out scratchy, his throat dry.
“Toss me the ball, bro,” the guy repeated, waving his arms.
Reed stretched his arm until he made contact with the ball, lifting it carefully with one hand. He aimed at the human in front of him, with his bright orange shorts and sunlight colored hair. The ball sailed past him, back toward the group waiting in front of the white net he had observed them playing with earlier.
Someone laughed as the man hurried after the ball, not quite quick enough to catch it. Unsure if this was good or bad, Reed decided to make a quick exit. He righted himself and took halting steps across the last few feet of sand, reaching for the wooden banister of what he had originally assumed was a ship.
Under his hand, the wood was smooth and almost slick. Like it had been coated in something to keep the wooden splinters from escaping. Reed ran his hand along it as he took tentative steps toward the noisy row of shops under string lights, trying to take it all in.
“Do you have duck eggs this week?” someone asked at the tent closest to him.
“Only half a dozen! Lucky you,” crooned the shop-owner, a middle-aged woman with a stooped back. “Shall I ring you up for these?”
“Yes, please,” replied the first woman.
He crossed the space behind them carefully, trying to get a look at all the goods for sale in the shop. The sign had pictures of animals he didn’t recognize and numbers that Reed struggled to make sense of. The human language, when spoken, made sense to him, but the written word apparently did not.
A flash of a teal braid under the streetlamp caught his attention and he turned toward the next shop stall. His hazel eyes darted to and fro, but failed to locate the woman from the other day. Was she here, right now, in the same place as him? He shook his head. What were the chances of that?
Further down the wooden walkway, Reed found a shop with food that smelled delicious. He peered curiously at the steaming machines and their treats, so unlike the sustenance the mer relied on. Something smelled particularly good and he sniffed repeatedly until he had narrowed it down to one sandcolored item.
“Would you like one?’ asked the young man behind the counter. “Fresh out of the oven, just five minutes ago.”
“What…what is it?” Reed asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.
“Chocolate croissant,” replied the man with a wide smile.
He hesitated. Neither of those words meant anything to him. Nor the rest of what he had said, for that matter. But it smelled divine and his stomach rumbled at the nearness of the temptation, as if it already knew the treat would be delicious.
“Yes, please,” said Reed, mimicking the woman at the previous shop.
“Great! That’ll be three dollars,” said the young man.
“D-dollars?” Reed tried not to panic. “I…I do not have human money. Will this do?”
He dug in his little pouch, tied to his waist, and pulled out two of the heavy gold coins. The man’s eyes widened as he reached for them.
“Yes, that will be fine,” he replied, wrapping the warm item in a bit of paper.
“Thank you,” managed Reed as he took the treat.
