Page 78 of Storm and Sea

Maybe I’m just not built for a Lifebond.

The reality of being mate-less would kill his parents, with no hope of grandchildren. And even he had to admit, the idea of spending the rest of his life alone was depressing. Nyel wanted it—to have someone. But maybe not yet? Whenever he tried to settle with the idea of becoming Bonded, something always felt… off.

Maybe I’m just broken.

He jerked himself to the present, shoving the rest of the peach tart in his mouth. The sweetness made him giddy and more than a little buzzed with energy. He wanted to see it all. If this festival only happened twice a year, he wouldn’t miss a second of it.

“What does that say?” Nyel asked, pointing to a bright green neon sign as he and Atreus explored the square.

“It says Bocce. It’s a game.”

Atreus had to explain the rules twice before Nyel finally got the picture. As he lined up his first throw, a hand grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-motion.

“You’re gonna throw it off the strip doing that. Like this.”

Suddenly, Atreus’s chest pressed against Nyel’s back. He guided Nyel to arch lower, bending with him as they swung their arms back and forth, testing the ball’s weight.

“There you go.”

Nyel felt more than heard the words as they rumbled through his back, down his spine, settling somewhere in his stomach.

“G-got it,” Nyel stammered, overwhelmed by the scent flooding his senses.

The scent reminded him of the sky after a storm—crisp, charged, and alive—as if Pygon, the Spirit of the Sky, had swept through with torrential winds, washing away the old and welcoming the new. The comparison made Nyel’s head swim, amplifying the strange, jittery feeling coursing through him.

At that moment, Atreus leapt back, and Nyel was both relieved and disappointed by the loss of contact. He blinked, forgetting that they were in the middle of a game.

Focus, you weirdo.

When Nyel landed his first roll directly on the board, a smirk twisted his lips.

“Lucky shot. Let’s see if you can do that again.” Atreus said, lining up his throw.

Nyel forgot to follow the ball as it flew through the air. He was too focused on Atreus’s face. His friend was… off. The entire night, Atreus was like one of those human toys called a Yo-yo. Smiling and enjoying the festival for one minute, then tight-lipped and distant the next. As though he were constantly being reminded of something heavy.

We all have something heavy weighing us down.

But this felt different. Atreus was definitely bothered.

When Leo showed up and joined the game, Nyel thought for certain that his presence would lift Atreus’s spirits. They’d known each other for years. How could Nyel compare to that? He was certain Atreus still half-hoped he would leave Baia Vita and never come back, a thought that made him sadder than he cared to admit.

However, Leo’s presence only seemed to darken Atreus’s mood, and Nyel couldn’t understand why. Leo, or rather, Leofel, was perfectly pleasant the entire evening. The three of them should have had a great time.

So why?

“I just remembered something. You two keep going.”

Before Nyel could ask him where he was going, Atreus pushed his way through the packed crowd.

“What’s his problem?” Leofel asked, releasing Nyel’s hand with the glass turtle.

“I don’t know,” he said, tucking his treasure in his pocket. “Should we go after him?”

“No. Atreus is a guy that likes his space. Just leave him to it; he’ll come around.” Leofel said confidently.

Nyel wasn’t so sure. But wouldn’t Leofel know better? Still, the nagging in Nyel’s mind told him to go after Atreus—that this was something only he could help with. That right now, Atreus needed a fellow Mer.

Or maybe Nyel was kidding himself. Maybe he was searching for a deeper friendship, a deeper connection that simply didn’t exist.