Page 6 of Storm and Sea

It was the same scene, played on repeat every day of Nyel’s life. Nyel was born in this home, lived here for eighteen springs, and would likely continue living here for many more. It was also the home where he would soon meet his Bond mate, or at least, that’s what his mother hoped for.

“Hurry, the Ernestis will be here any second. Go change and be snappy,” she said while simultaneously setting the perfectly laid-out dinner table. Despite dreading the meal to come, Nyel’s stomach growled. The table was loaded with his favorites: Wakame kelp, hijiki, and sea prunes. They lay on clay plates, cut into flowery shapes with culinary scrutiny. Normally, delicacies like those were saved for holidays. He supposed tonight was more important than any holiday—at least in his mother’s eyes.

Nyel swam to his private alcove of the home. The circular space was too small, but he only needed it to sleep. He sorted through his basket of various clothes made from anemone threads and driftweed fiber. He preferred to wear only the pants, as most men did, allowing his chest to remain bare. The village women most often wore loose-fitting sea-grass dresses or even a fascia and skirt.

But ordinary clothes wouldn’t suffice tonight. With his mother dressed in her fine-fitted coral silk gown, Nyel knew that if he didn’t wear his best outfit, she’d make him change. Groaning, he pulled on his pants, slipped his tail through the designated hole, and tied the itchy vest across his torso. He hated the way it tugged at the delicate scales across his chest and pinched the dorsal fin on his back.

Already uncomfortable, he forced himself back to the main room, where his mother and aunt were deep in conversation about where to set the clams.

“We simply can’t have them at the table. They will make everyone lose their appetite,” Bianca said, removing the plate of clams from the countertop with a disgusted look on her face.

Nyel didn’t blame her. Even the smell of meat made him want to gag. His species of Mer, the Sireni, were vegetarians, only eating flesh in rare or dire cases. The swell in his aunt Sonia’s middle was one of those rare times.

“You know I have to eat at least five a day,” Sonia insisted. “I won’t miss a single bite.” She rubbed her belly in a protective gesture.

“Can you eat them now, then? Before the Ernestis arrive?” Bianca reasoned. “Please? I know you have to. I remember eating them when I was pregnant with Nyel,” she said, eyeing the fleshy circles resting on their open shells. “But, they’re gross.”

“Fine,” Sonia said, taking the stone plate and swimming to her room. She gave Nyel an exaggerated eye-roll before disappearing.

“Oh, there you are. I was about to fetch you. Okay, let me see,” his mother said, wiping her hands on a cuttlefish-dyed apron and motioning for him to spin.

“Mom,” Nyel groaned but did as he was told and twirled in the water, feeling silly.

“When was the last time you polished?” she asked, rubbing at his scales as though her touch could make them shine.

“Last week,” Nyel defended, “I’m not doing it before every single dinner, Mom. My scales will fall off.”

“Well, at least the vest looks good. I can’t believe how grown up you look,” she said, getting that teary-eyed look only mothers could.

Nyel turned away, his tail curling behind him. “I’m only eighteen springs.”

“That’s old enough. A Lifebond can take place from the moment you become an adult. It could happen anytime; don’t you realize how important that is? We can’t waste a single day. And I have a good feeling about this one.”

Nyel clenched his jaw, fingers curling at his sides. “I told you before, Chel and I are just friends.”

“Exactly, childhood friends. Who’s to say, now that you’re both adults, something more won’t set into place? The tides of fate have seen stranger things.”

Nyel forced his mouth shut, unwilling to start another blowout minutes before guests arrived. Chel was not just any guest; she was his best friend. Ever since they were kids, they shared a comfortable companionship that Nyel never found with anyone else. The Ernesti family owned several acres of kombu, bladder, and ribbon kelp that fed not only their village but half a dozen other Sireni villages in the Mediterranean. Corallina was the largest Sireni settlement, with the highest crop yield. Hundreds of hungry mouths depended on their farms to eat. Nyel’s family cared for a goatfish school as the local pest control. They went from farm to farm, releasing their four hundred head of goatfish to eat away any pests that might harm the crop. And with the vastness of the Ernesti’s farm, Nyel frequently shepherded the school to their land and, thus, spent a lot of time with Chel.

A gentle “Hello?” sounded from the front of the house.

“That’s them!” Bianca whispered in alarm. “Nyel, straighten up, chin high, show off those cheekbones.”

“Chel’s seen my cheekbones a hundred times,” Nyel grumbled as his mother hastily removed the apron and swam to the front of the house.

Friendly chatter and pleasantries drifted from the front, and when his mother guided their guests inside, Nyel’s heart sank. Chel was there with her parents, and she was dressed to perfection. Nyel didn’t know if it was her parents’ insistence or if she wanted to dress to impress. He hoped it was the first one.

Never once had Nyel viewed Chel as more than a friend. It didn’t even cross his mind that she, a sirena (female), and he, a sireno (male), could be a potential mated pair. The thought made his stomach twist, and in an instant, the spread of delicious food lost all appeal.

“Hello, Nyel,” Chel said with a shy wave.

“Hey, Chel,” Nyel replied in kind.

It was awkward—so terribly awkward—as the five of them floated in the dining area, his mother and her parents watching them as though the Lifebond would spring into existence between them at any second.

“Let me get Don and Sonia, and we’ll get started,” Bianca said, excusing herself from the room.

Nyel was left alone with the three Ernesti members. Their appearance matched that of all Sireni: bodies covered in algae-green scales, rounded fins, and murky brown eyes. Scales matched the yellow-green hue of healthy kelp swaying in the sunlight while their fins draped in delicate layers over their heads, cascading down their backs and deepening into darker shades on their tails. The Sireni inherited their color from ancestors who camouflaged among the kelp back when the sea was ruled by monstrous predators ready to swallow them whole.