Archive of Our Own

For Seulgi, the sea had always been an enigma to her. Sometimes, it jumped and clawed against the cliffs beneath her feet, taking with it the rocks. Other times, it fell and pulled away at the sandy shores, a deeper color settling into the ground. It roared ferociously on some nights, but it sang beautifully in others.

It wasn’t the companion Seulgi would have wished for. She needed something that was constant, never changing. Something she could easily predict with the snap of her fingers or the stomp of her foot. Alas, the sea was her only friend, and although it never spoke to her, Seulgi had always told it stories. Random events that happened that day. A conversation or two with the townspeople.

As the sun fell below the horizon, Seulgi entered the woods surrounding her home. Holding a small axe, she carefully ventured past the thorns and winding roots, looking for fallen branches and trees. There were no clouds that night, and the moon revealed itself in its entirety. So small, yet its light illuminated the woods, and Seulgi herself. She hid under the shadows so as to not be seen by others. She makes it to a pile of branches, not the most favorable, but still useful.

Her steps were light and almost silent; the swaying leaves and clicking critters were loud enough to cover her tracks. Seulgi got back to her safe place, her home. She went up the stairs, the boards creaking. To the top stood the pyre that she needed to light every night. Placing the firewood in the pyre, she lit it up with ease. It was her routine, her purpose, what she was known for.

Seulgi gazed out the lighthouse, her back facing the burning pyre while her front welcomed the chill breeze of a new month. She leaned forward, the sea below lulled her to another night of watching the stars, at least for a while. Hours later, she would have to go out again, not to the forest, but to the sea laid out in front of her.

Seulgi’s arms ached as she continuously rowed. The small boat had only enough room for herself, her harpoon, nets, and a few baskets of gutted fish and salt. The moon had already set, her only guidance being the morning sun behind her and the lighthouse beacon, hazy from the mist. Yellow and blue blended into the greyish air, obscuring her vision.

Carried by the rocking waves, Seulgi’s rowboat made its way back to the shorelines as the mist dissipated, the sharp rocky shorelines now visible to her eyes. She got off her boat, stepping onto the wooden planks of the small dock. She tied the boat, mooring it. Seulgi could do it with her eyes closed at this point. She took the basket of fish in her hands, cleaned with saltwater just hours prior.

Walking back to her home for a moment, Seulgi portioned the fish of varied sizes, keeping some for herself and the rest for the merchants. She yawned, the ache all over her body begging for a remedy. It didn’t help either that the sun shone directly onto her, casting warmth that only made her feel more tired.

Taking the portioned fish with her, Seulgi began her trudge across the dirt path, etched by her boots and her parents’ and those before them. She heard the murmurs of the forest, the cranky whistling of the branches as they swung back and forth, the firm grumble of the planted roots that stretched on and on, the giggles and chimes of the leaves rustling against one another.

Seulgi also heard people in the background, mumbles and steps that crackled on the contact of grass. Most were foragers or loggers, living off the land and selling to the village wood, herbs, and other foragables. They knew Seulgi, knew the Woo family. But they never spoke to her, not directly.

It was fine enough for Seulgi. She was never one for talking to other people.

Dirt turned to gravel, gravel turned to stone bricks. The village—seaside town, port, whatever—greeted her all the same, unchanging with its brick and wood architecture. The people? Seulgi couldn’t describe them with one word alone; they had such different personalities, yet all seemed to share the same couple of traits.

Loud, townspeople going about their daily lives and foreigners docking after months of sailing, just happy to touch land again.

Creative, chiseled statues of fishermen and hunters decorated the center of town. They held up their most prized catch, the merpeople, a topic Seulgi wishes to avoid.

Avoidant, however, with the people staying away from Seulgi as if she were afflicted with the plague. Mothers hugged their children a little closer, customers were quieter as Seulgi stopped in front of a stall.

Jo Ara was there, a bored look on her face. She didn’t turn Seulgi away, but she definitely wasn’t pleased with Seulgi’s presence either. Seulgi looked down at Ara’s busywork, fish guts and blood painting the cutting board red.

“Seulgi,” Ara called. Guess she wasn’t up for small talk.

Seulgi handed the basket over. Ara examined a few samples, smelling and poking. “How much?” Seulgi asked, the itch in her bones told her to get this over with as soon as possible. A tingle went through her spine, and the statues behind her were reflected in Ara’s blank eyes.

“A handful of silvers,” Ara’s hands fell below her stand, and Seulgi assumed it was to fetch her strongbox. A couple of clicks and clacks later, Ara gave Seulgi her silver. It was enough for at least three meals, whenever Seulgi decided she was tired of fish.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, now go,” Ara beckoned for Seulgi to get out of the line.

Seulgi listened. She backed away from the starting-to-be-crowded booth, accidentally pushing and stepping on people’s toes. She mumbled sorry before finally escaping.

A massive shadow shielded Seulgi from the blinding sunlight. She looked up at the sculpture that stood at the center. It depicted a man, tall and proud, as he brandished a trident. Attached to the trident was the unfortunate mermaid, holding the barbs that pierced her stomach.

It shook Seulgi, a gruesome image just out in the plains for all to see. She knew merfolk were somewhat real, remembering the times as a kid when she hid behind her father’s legs as the people celebrated a sailor coming home with an exotic haul, an elongated tail resembling a sea creature, its upper body missing.

Witches. Demons. They had many names, those creatures with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a fish. Animals, they were deemed to be. But Seulgi didn’t share the same sentiment. It was ironic, considering the ways she made money and fed herself, but the thought of killing someone that looked like her… it didn’t sit well with Seulgi.

Seulgi decided to go back home.

Things started to change.

Seulgi shifted around her bed, trying to find the most comfortable position. But she couldn’t. Every angle, every side. The bed felt rock hard underneath her. The windows, too. They swung open, the hinges grinding as the cold wind filled Seulgi’s home.

There was something else, though. Not the grinding hinges, not the creaking floorboards, not the crashing waves. It was a voice. It was distant, sounding like a hymn, yet the words were intangible for Seulgi. In a completely different language, whistles and clicks in between the chants resonated in Seulgi’s ears. She got out of her bed, picking up the lit lantern on the bedside table.

Seulgi looked out the window. There was nobody; only the sea greeted her. However, it got louder. The singing—could Seulgi call that singing?—got closer to the coastline, breaking apart the sea’s bellows, replacing it with an ominous, otherworldly tone.

Curiosity got the best of Seulgi, and she found herself putting on her boots and going out at night when she should have been taking a nap. Armed with her lantern, Seulgi descended down the jagged cliffs, which had been taken apart and laid out with steps for as long as Seulgi could remember, providing an easy access to the dock and a small sliver of beach.

Sand got in between her toes, scratching and crunching, bringing with it a sensation Seulgi utterly despised. Seulgi pushed forward, though, as the voice lured her to the far side of the beach, where weathered stacks of rocks rooted into the seafloor, unmoving. She sees it. A silhouette. It was still too far away from Seulgi, as the figure sat itself down in a place where waves could engulf it whole.

Seulgi attempted to get closer. But she stayed firmly in place, just away from where the sea began to pull back from the earth. A gulp. The lantern shook just ever so slightly. A deep breath.

“Hello?”

The silhouette turned around, unfortunately its features were far too shrouded in the darkness to make out clearly. But the bright moon that night lit up the edges of its body, white outlining the dark blue.

It all happened in a split second.

The mysterious figure suddenly jumped into the sea. Seulgi tried to reach out with her hand, instinctively moving forward, but the rushing waters took her back to reality. Seulgi backed away instantly, almost dropping her only source of light.

Seulgi rubbed her eyes with her free hand, wondering if what she saw was even real, or if the loneliness was starting to get to her. Maybe she was just too tired.

Seulgi asked the sea, “Who are you?”

It did not answer.

She let out a sigh, tracing her steps back to her home. The high tides washed away her footprints, filling them back with wet sand. Even as she opened her front door, Seulgi’s thoughts were still on what had happened minutes before.

Before climbing back to bed, Seulgi looked out the window once more. No, there was nothing. It was just a figment of her imagination.

On some afternoons, when Seulgi wasn’t getting some rest, she would walk across the beach. The lower tides during that time had expanded the coast by a lot more, unveiling nooks and crannies where tiny crabs hid.

She foraged for seashells, mostly storing the ones that looked interesting, and crabs. And on some particularly windy noons, Seulgi would sit on the beach, never mind her apprehension of sand, admiring the slow-moving waves from afar.

Grey clouds bloomed, blocking the sunlight, and rainfall was at the edge of the horizon. Seulgi mindlessly traced the grooves of a blue shell she had found earlier. There weren’t that many today, only a few tiny seashells and baby crabs. But the sea suddenly reached for her ankles, before pulling back just as fast as it came.

Strange, normally the waves wouldn’t reach where she stood. Seulgi’s eyes went down to her feet, now wet and covered with sand. There was something else, though. A sparkling glint of white to the side of her left foot. She brushed away the sand, finding a clamshell.

It was in pristine condition, with an almost perfectly smooth texture, the colors being a mix of cream and brown. How did she not notice this before? Seulgi swore there wasn’t anything when she sat down.

Whatever, Seulgi thought. As she stood up, dusting off her linen garments, she took the clamshell with her. Seulgi busied herself with whatever tasks that had to be done. Cleaning, washing, bargaining, sleeping.

Night soon fell. Finishing her plate of baked whitefish, Seulgi cleaned up after herself as she waited for the moon. The celestial body had draped a coat of black over itself, tightening it at its middle. With its company and the sea, Seulgi untied her rowboat for another night of fishing.

Uneventful, for the first few hours. She had rowed far enough for the lighthouse’s beacon to be a slightly bigger speck in the sky, and long enough for the night to become darker.

Casting her net and rod into the black ocean, Seulgi waited patiently. Her fingers tapped against the wood, her thoughts completely silent, awaiting a ripple or pull from the rods.

Then, there was something. Not a bite, not a click. Instead, it was a massive splash followed by a thud. It came from behind, judging by the wet patches now sticking on the back of her tunic. Seulgi turned around.

A salmon, splattered on the bottom boards. It bounced around frantically, looking for a way out. Seulgi’s mouth was agape. She reached for the sides of her boat, her eyes scanning the calm surface, before going back to the jumping salmon.

Seulgi gave it mercy, puncturing the fish’s head with the end of her harpoon multiple times, then slicing it in half to take out the internal organs. Cleaning it with the saltwater, Seulgi tossed it into her empty basket.

But not before another splash came, hitting her directly this time. Thud. One more salmon, now in a panic as it flipped side to side. It was getting bizarre, borderline insane. Was Seulgi starting to imagine salmon magically landing on her boat?

She did the same routine. Puncture, gut, wash, toss. Seulgi waited again, not for the usual pulling of her fishing rod, but for the jumping fish. Nothing. Nothing else came.

The sun started to rise behind her as she rowed back. It was fortunate, for her sanity at least, that no other strange occurrences happened that night. She caught more than a dozen fish in the net and gutted them as usual before storing them, although the rod’s bait of worms was untouched.

There was a sea cave, a short walk away from the lighthouse that marked the edge of civilization. It was only accessible during the lowest of tides, when the moon hid itself from the world, letting the sun revel.

Seulgi enjoyed staying there, her home away from home. Maybe she pondered her life, gently leaned back against the hardy walls, or just gazed at the sea. But Seulgi also relished going there when the tides completely submerged the cavern, when the moon opened fully, casting the brightest of lights, rivaling the sun. She couldn’t swim, but the way the waves desperately tried to catch her, ripping apart the stones above the cave, it was a little exhilarating. The sea could drown her, yet Seulgi still dangled her legs over the edge anyway.

A moon had passed with no sightings of the shadow, engraved in the corner of Seulgi’s mind, no incomprehensible singing playing in her ears, and none of the jumpy salmon phenomenon, still a mystery to Seulgi. Once again, the full moon had unknotted its black robes, and the starry night was brighter than ever. Wave after wave, the sea caressed Seulgi’s shins. Seulgi noted that the strangely gentle waters lacked the aggressiveness of a high tide.

There was singing, again.

Unlike the last time it happened, the voice was much, much closer, almost like it was happening right under her feet. The sea became quiet, and Seulgi could only focus on the ripples that appeared before her. It then manifested before her very eyes, happening so fast yet Seulgi felt like time had slowed down to a minimum.

A woman’s face. The gods must have blessed Seulgi that day, for the woman in front of her was sculpted so masterfully that Seulgi was lost for words. How could she describe something she cannot fathom? Smooth and unscarred, symmetrical and perfect. Her eyes were predatory in the way they flicked from one feature of Seulgi’s to another, examining. They were deep brown with odd hints of blue shimmering throughout.

First, unfathomable. Second, questionable.

Light was scattered all over her face, not the moonlight shining on a person’s skin, but a pattern akin to scales reflecting the colors of a rainbow. It was the only part of the woman’s face that was not perfect, rather chaotic and all over the place. On her cheeks, near her jawline, across her forehead. They were well-hidden, blending into her paleness, but the glints were there.

Seulgi’s gaze fell down, way down. Her ears burned at the sight of the woman’s bare chest and stomach. But the blush was immediately replaced by confusion. From the waist down, Seulgi had expected thighs. Instead, her lower body was still wholly merged, a translucent swirl of blue and white adorned by constellations of the sky.

Finally, realization.

The surroundings came back into Seulgi’s vision, sharp and distinct once more. It was then that she saw the more concerning details. The woman’s neck had visible, long, and gaping lacerations on the sides. There was no blood, only the opening and closing similar to a fish’s gills. And then, Seulgi noticed the horns. Horns? Antennas? It shared the same transparent look as the woman’s lower body.

Scales, scales, scales. Everywhere. All over the collarbone, shoulders, arms.

Gods save her.

The splashes and tosses of water, previously falling slowly like leaves, now rushed down into the sea once more. The woman’s luscious hair, unaffected by water at all, draped over her shoulders. She was silent, and so was Seulgi at first. Then, a yelp.

Seulgi scrambled around her feet and hands, standing up and backing away from the danger. The noise caused the woman to flinch as well, her eyes briefly widened—her expression was almost humanlike.

That wasn’t a human, she knew that, and Seulgi should have been running for her life. Merfolk were the harbingers of storms, cursed with demonic magic, they fed off humanity’s fear and flesh. Seulgi should’ve warned the town, maybe even killed the beast. But that feeling came back. That itch, that weight in her heart, that knot in her stomach. Seulgi stood still, watching the mermaid’s movement, potentially exposing herself to death’s arms.

Slowly, the mermaid’s hands came up from the sea, glowing a faded rainbow, scales of white and blue adorning the backside. She lifted them up to her chest, pointing to herself. Then, the mermaid spoke. Her voice was soft, almost unsure.

“Jaeyi.”

Was that her name? Seulgi had no idea how to respond, but the anticipating look that this Jaeyi had made it seem like she wanted to know Seulgi’s name too.

Mimicking the mermaid’s gesture, she introduced herself. “Seulgi,” she said.

A smile made its way across Jaeyi’s face. Seulgi stepped closer again to the edge, kneeling down so she wasn’t far from Jaeyi. Her hands reached out on their own, trying to grasp the very idea of Jaeyi being a living mermaid.

Something rustled behind her. Jaeyi dipped below the surface, leaving behind no evidence of her presence. Seulgi had never turned around so fast, getting up and patting her knees.

Nari. That woman must have just come back from hunting, as evidenced by the musket and a deer’s carcass that she was holding, and she accidentally passed by. Nari looked at her up and down, before rolling her eyes and walking away, not a single word spoken.

Nari’s figure became obscured by the trees and bushes until Seulgi was absolutely sure she was no longer there. By the time Seulgi turned back, Jaeyi was gone. There was only the empty sea.

Seulgi did not see Jaeyi again for a while. Afternoons were accompanied by continuous drizzle, and nights were drenched in heavy storms, forcing Seulgi to stay inside lest she get sick. She avoided the barrage of rain and lit up the lighthouse’s pyre before descending the stairs.

Thundering clouds covered the moon. Seulgi only saw pure darkness outside her windows and the warm reflections of torches that illuminated her home. There was little to nothing that could shield her ears from the constant roaring thunder and raindrops knocking on her walls.

Scraping her utensils on the plate of anchovies and greens, Seulgi finished up on her dinner before putting the dish away for later. Seulgi sat down on the edge of her bed, her collection of seashells hanging on the other side. The recent addition, the pale clam. Seulgi was fixated on it, still.

There was just something about it. Like the sea had brought it to her on purpose. Someone brought it to her. Maybe.

The storm had faded into a light rain by the time Seulgi lied down, the old frame shifting under her weight. The clacks and rolling seas became one, and there was none of the sounds that Seulgi had begun to associate with the elusive mermaid. A sign that Jaeyi was not there.

She drifted off to sleep.

Seulgi found herself pacing back and forth across the Woo’s dock. There had been an argument between Seulgi and her father, words that should have never been thrown at family, banged up walls, and tears falling to the floor. She had stormed off, going to the cliffs above the sea cave that had acted as a place of retreat for years. Seulgi sat down, plucked the grasses and wildflowers, threw rocks at the sea.

She remembered staying there for hours, for the moon rose up and the sky became heavy with rain. Seulgi went back to their home, only to find her father gone. His beloved harpoon disappeared. Their sailboat, tied at the end of the dock, was missing too.

Seulgi waited, and waited. As she looked up at the sky, she saw it. The lighthouse, it wasn’t burning. Dull, barren, nothing. Seulgi’s steps were getting heavier with each flight she took. The flimsy knife gnashed at the flint, sparks flew until the twigs caught fire. She threw it into the pit, letting the flames grow.

Seulgi stared at the sea. She stared until she knew the exact way each wave crashed into stacks, until she counted every grain of sand, until she drank every raindrop, until the sky was clear and twilight arose.

Seulgi did not wake up with a gasp or cold sweat. Instead, she pulled herself away from the linen sheets, heavy like the world was on her shoulders. Months have passed, and it has become clear that Seulgi shouldn’t be thinking about it anymore. It was still dark outside, and quiet too. Her harpoon was tucked away in the corner, all-knowing. Seulgi took it with her, going out to the docks and unmooring her rowboat.

She rowed with no particular goal in her mind, no exact amount of fish to catch. If she didn’t take too long, she could be back by the time the chickens crowed. Seulgi stopped her boat. Throwing bait onto the sea’s surface, she held her harpoon close.

Her boat suddenly took a big sway to the side, taking Seulgi off guard. She held on for dear life, drowning in the middle of nowhere was not a part of her plan, and has never been. As the boat rocked side to side, slowing down with every motion, Seulgi caught the culprit.

A giggling Jaeyi. Her emergence from the deep waters should not have caused such a wave unless it was on purpose. She soon fell silent, however, her attention was set on Seulgi’s weapon.

“Jaeyi.”

At Seulgi’s voice, her blank expression morphed into one of friendly curiosity. “Fishing?” she asked.

Seulgi nodded.

“Do you want help?” Jaeyi said. She glanced at the harpoon again. “You don’t have to use that.”

Without hearing Seulgi’s answer, Jaeyi grabbed a net that was sitting on the edge of the boat before dipping below the surface. Seulgi didn’t have time to say anything, and nothing formed inside her head either.

Around a minute later, Jaeyi came back up. She held the net, filled with at least two dozen herrings, and handed it to Seulgi, who took the catch with a small thanks. She did not miss the slight grimace Jaeyi had as the fish suffocated from the density and lack of water.

They didn’t talk as Seulgi rowed back to shore while Jaeyi followed not too far behind, evident by the creasing sea from her swimming. Jaeyi sang; it was muffled, but Seulgi could hear it. Harmonious and graceful, it made her think of life below. Did seaweed dance in each other’s company every day? Did the corals act as others’ sanctuary? Did the fish hold grudges and make up at the end?

Seulgi’s boat almost crashed into the dock. She got off, hastily mooring it as if anyone other than Jaeyi had seen it. Like she could hear Seulgi’s thoughts, Jaeyi resurfaced. She leaned on the rowboat as Seulgi unloaded the filled net.

“Seulgi.”

In Jaeyi’s hands was a conch shell, soft yellow on the outside, decorated with streaks of brown, while the inside was pink. Seulgi kneeled down, taking it, and briefly brushed against Jaeyi’s skin. It was not on purpose, but she certainly took her time, feeling the slippery webs and sharp edges of Jaeyi’s scales. For Seulgi, it wasn’t a strange experience. Instead, it was about how soft Jaeyi’s palms were, how her fingers lightly caressed Seulgi’s bruised knuckles, how the water was cold yet Jaeyi gave her warmth.

“I saw you collect these,” Jaeyi said.

Seulgi smiled, ignoring the tickling sensation now left in her hand. The moon and lighthouse shone above them, crowns basked in the glow.

“Thank you.”

Seulgi’s hair flew in the wind as she sat down on the docks, her eyes closed as she attuned to Jaeyi’s singing, whistles and echoes that bounced off the cliffs and sea. The crescent moon was reflected in the waves, fluttering and breaking as they pushed and pulled.

“How do you know my language?” Seulgi asked.

Jaeyi stopped, swimming closer to Seulgi’s legs that hovered over the water. “Your people often sailed across the oceans, and they were quite loud at night,” she said. “I began to pick up a couple of words.”

“Still,” Jaeyi added, “I’m not very good at it.”

Slightly off pronunciations, wavering pitch, uptight sentences. Seulgi could still understand it just fine, she even thought it was impressive for someone who didn’t speak like man.

“I personally think your speech is good,” she complimented Jaeyi, whose cheeks were now colored with pink.

Then it was quiet again. There were many questions Seulgi wanted to ask, only problem being that she didn’t know how to properly explain it without coming off as being quite judgmental.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

If not for how close they were, Jaeyi’s voice would have been consumed by the thrashing waves. Jaeyi waited, arms tightly crossed over her chest, and the horns—Seulgi still had no idea what to call them—fluttering ever so slightly. Jaeyi looked so small, fragile, as if she didn’t have the power to bring doom to sailors all over, although that expectation came from the bards’ songs and poems.

That was it, that was the problem. Seulgi shouldn’t be taking their words seriously, of merfolk wreaking havoc onboard and tearing apart sails. Their otherworldly songs were not for luring people to their deaths, and their eyes did not reveal to people their worst fears.

They are like man. They are man. Jaeyi is just like her, in the sense that they both have complex thoughts and emotions, and in another sense that they both suffer all the same.

“Because you’re like me,” Seulgi answered after a long, tense pause.

Jaeyi understood, slightly relieved as seen by how her shoulders slumped and she let herself be carried by the motions of the sea that rose and fell. Seulgi wanted to elaborate more, to jump into the depths and show Jaeyi what she meant. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“I can’t swim,” Seulgi found herself saying.

She observed as Jaeyi’s hands were placed on the wooden planks, the brown darkening from the puddles Jaeyi left. Seulgi’s fingers twitched; they ached to touch Jaeyi again. She opted to scratch at and yank the little splinters that poked at her.

“Do you want me to show you?”

A cold hand was placed on top of hers. Seulgi glanced at Jaeyi. Water began to trail down to the tip of her fingers until it dropped, and Seulgi let herself be pulled down into the sea. She flinched at the sudden rush of freezing that her body absorbed and let out a gasp.

Jaeyi was as patient as ever. Seulgi adjusted to the waves, holding tightly onto the lifeline in front of her. She fell to the rhythm of the swaying, how the sea pushed at her body. Jaeyi made a gesture by taking a deep breath and puffing out her cheeks, telling Seulgi to hold her breath. She nodded, inhaling as deeply as her lungs could take.

Then Jaeyi drew her down.

Seulgi’s instincts told her to close her eyes as soon as she dived underwater. Water rushed into her ears, every sound became muted. The only thing she could feel was Jaeyi’s reassuring touch, a tender squeeze as a reminder.

Slowly, Seulgi opened her eyes. A little squint, then fully as her vision cleared and the stinging faded into dullness. She immediately looked at Jaeyi. It was her first time seeing the mermaid as a whole.

From her stomach down, it transitioned into the night sky, a piece of glass that mirrored the dark sea around them, blue and white blended into the nothingness, specks of stars like milk dotted around. Jaeyi’s body slimmed down to a tail, two long fins that swung gracefully like a royal’s white gown with a fading blue at the tips.

And on her back were wings of a dove, flapping against the waters. Jaeyi glowed like moonlight shimmering on the open ocean, from her horns to her fins to her tail. Seulgi saw her own reflection in Jaeyi’s eyes. She looked so out of place, something so ordinary in the middle of awe-inspiring.

The ache in her lungs burned; it, along with the creeping thought of not being worth something, forced Seulgi to swim up. To not be in the same space as Jaeyi. Seulgi gasped for air, chest heaving. Unlike her, Jaeyi rose without a single flick of water being disturbed. The mermaid said nothing, only tucked away the hair that stuck to Seulgi’s face.

Again.

Jaeyi told her, or at least that was what Seulgi thought Jaeyi would say. It’s alright, take your time. Perhaps a few reassurances. You don’t have to be afraid of me.

Seulgi dived down again. Once more, she let herself be guided by Jaeyi across the deep. They didn’t move much, only following the currents. It continued for what felt like hours, and either time had slowed down, or Seulgi drowned and was in the afterlife, because when Seulgi’s lungs burned once more and needed to resurface, the moon had barely moved from its position.

She wiped the salty water off her face and fixed her hair. Jaeyi came up, her hair was somehow perfectly in place. Perfect. That was the only difference between the two of them. Man and mer were the same, Seulgi and Jaeyi were the same. It’s just that, in her eyes, Jaeyi was god incarnate, while she was the lowest of mortals.

“You’re beautiful,” Seulgi found herself saying out loud.

“Me?” Jaeyi was confused, surprised even. Wide-eyed and jaw slackened, Jaeyi pointed to herself, as if she wanted to say Are you serious?

“Yes, you.”

“Oh,” Jaeyi said, “but you’re more beautiful than anything I have ever seen. Do you not think the same?”

By the gods, did Jaeyi genuinely think that of her? Of little ole Seulgi, who wore dull garments made of simple fabric, whose hands were worn and calloused, who had been deemed an outcast after her father’s disappearance, whose heart was torn and broken and had little love to give?

Seulgi didn’t say anything. She was at a loss. Jaeyi was okay with not receiving any answer. She helped Seulgi get back on land. Seulgi wrung water out of her tunic, mentally preparing herself for some sort of fever to get her the next day.

“Seulgi,” she looked up at the sound of her name being called.

“I must go for a while. Will you wait for me until the brightest of nights?”

Seulgi didn’t like waiting, she didn’t like not knowing what to expect. She waited once, and all that came back to her was the sea. She had not a clue why Jaeyi had to disappear for such long times, but Seulgi answered anyway.

“I will.”

The tavern was bustling that evening, patrons of all professions mingled with one another, laughing their sorrows away. Some sat near the bar, asking for the strongest drinks. Others brawled over an unpaid debt, drunken cheers flowing through the air. A few, at the back of the tavern where the only thing loud was the bard’s instrument, ate their meals in silence.

Seulgi was one of them, having ordered a rather expensive plate of poultry.

A thump on the wooden prow, once, twice — And then the singing begins.

Fork and spoon scraped loudly against the dish. For a meat thought to be soft, it was getting quite hard to cut through.

Their voices rise Her fin slaps the stone, faster and faster, One spreads her arms Chests heave the crescendo —

Seulgi had almost emptied her glass of its contents, sweet honey of mead down her throat.

There is the first awful boom, And the creaking, splintering of tarred planks, And the pouring rush of water.

The sun had set, and through the windows Seulgi could see the beginnings of a full moon, just over the horizon line.

Now smooth arms hauled themselves up Hair plastered back Streaming salt down their breasts, The flick and thrust of those muscular tails, terrifying.

Seulgi began to hear every flick of string, every breath taken, every smack of lips.

The men were weak in those wet arms,

Oxygenless kisses

Before the freezing plunge of water.

The glass was now empty. Stray drops were wiped off with her hand.

The sea-bed approaches, A nuptial, welcoming, Lungs bursting, Waves sweep nausea And peels of song, Face on face, eyes clouding with beauty, and death.

She left a gold coin on the table. Shoulders pushed and anger roused in others as Seulgi walked out into the night.

Down here there is no sun to flash against silver scales Nor sails for shrouds, Only the wet enfold of the sea, of the mermaids, no longer maids.

Outside, the town was quieter. Merchants had closed their shops, some large boats were being prepared to set sail, and villagers had retired to their homes. Seulgi took the long way home, off the beaten path and into the quiet woods. Wildflowers crunched under her boots, critters scurried at the sight of her. Eventually, Seulgi came back to the lighthouse, the pit already in flames.

And she heard the alluring voice once more. It called for her down on the beach. Seulgi took the bait like a fool, crossing the shore until she was met with a familiar face. Jaeyi leaned against one of the many stacks that dotted the seascape. Seulgi let herself be carried away into the waves.

“You came back.”

Jaeyi hummed, pulling Seulgi down for another dive. During the days when Seulgi was by herself, she did practice holding her breath more. Her strokes were still clumsy, but passable nonetheless. Hopefully it will be enough.

They swam further away from the beach and deeper until they hit the shallow seabed, a meadow of seagrass around them littered with rocks. With Jaeyi being her closest source of light, the lighthouse’s fire and moonlight dim and blurred, Seulgi got closer to her, almost pressed to her sides. The seagrass tickled her feet, rolling under the pressure of the waves.

“It’s nice, is it not?” Jaeyi said, “I wished to bring you here during the day, you would have been able to see more.” Bubbles came out of her mouth, the mermaid’s gills fluttering open and closed. Her words were very clear-sounding to Seulgi, despite being submerged in the sea.

Seulgi pointed to the surface, not only needing oxygen but also a way to speak. And so they resurfaced, Seulgi taking a moment to breathe and tipping her head to the side for water to escape her ears.

“Why can’t you?” Seulgi asked.

A little frown on Jaeyi’s face. Her eyebrows furrowed, and the blue glow all over her disappeared.

“It hurts me, the burning light.”

Oh.

Seulgi had no idea.

“Then you don’t have to,” she said, “Just stay with me during the nights, that’s all that matters.”

Something overcame Seulgi, perhaps it was the alcohol still raging in her body and mind. She knew she shouldn’t have drunk that damned mead. She leaned forward to touch Jaeyi.

Seulgi’s thumb stroked the softness of Jaeyi’s plump cheeks that contrasted with the scaly edges. Her fingers then traced Jaeyi’s jawline before cupping her chin. Seulgi wanted to touch the mermaid’s lips, to share with Jaeyi the intoxicating sweetness she had inside, to lick the saltiness off, to tangle her legs with Jaeyi’s tail, to cry and whimper.

But Seulgi didn’t, they weren’t there yet. Instead, she went down, brushing past the visible bump on Jaeyi’s throat. Jaeyi trembled. Seulgi looked up and saw those dilated pupils, the browns almost engulfed in black, while the blue glints were nowhere to be seen.

Seulgi’s hand eventually fell to just above Jaeyi’s chest. In a split moment of sobriety, Seulgi realized what she was doing and pulled away with a shaky gasp. She heard Jaeyi let out a sigh before suddenly diving underwater. Seulgi splashed the cold water on herself in absolute shame, but as she did, she noticed a fuzzy orange glow beneath.

Going down, Seulgi squinted at the sight of Jaeyi radiating orange all over her non-human body, a line going down all the way to her tail and horns with bright tips so unlike her calming blues. Jaeyi’s tail curled around, shielding herself from the world, and her hands were placed over her face, hiding her emotions.

Seulgi carefully reached over, pulling Jaeyi’s hands away slowly. Her face was rose pink. Jaeyi had an almost embarrassed look on her face, biting at the insides of her cheeks.

“That… felt strange,” Jaeyi said.

They resurfaced. “I apologize,” Seulgi added, “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, not like that,” Jaeyi profusely shook her head. “It felt good, I was just taken aback.”

“Really?”

Jaeyi nodded, “Though I’ll appreciate it if you let me reciprocate some other time.”

Now Seulgi wanted to drown herself. Having a reason to live, however, Seulgi could only chuckle awkwardly and dive back down. Was that flirting? Or was it Jaeyi’s playful way of lightening the mood after Seulgi’s drunken headspace almost ended things in a bad way?

The meadow greeted the two all the same, unaware of what had transpired above. Seulgi gazed at the stretch of seagrass as Jaeyi searched the bed for shells alike. Something caught her eye, a blinking sparkle near a few rocks. She let go of Jaeyi’s hand, just for a while, and swam closer. Rummaging past the rocks, Seulgi searched for that missing spark.

Prick.

Seulgi recoiled at the sudden stinging sensation on her palm. She accidentally opened her mouth to yelp, and saltwater came rushing to rob her lungs of air. Seulgi choked and thrashed about, bubbles floated out of her.

She felt familiar arms wrapped around her stomach, pulling her out of the sea. Seulgi coughed up salt as Jaeyi brought her back to the beach. Her lungs were dying, and her palm had become swollen red. Seulgi crawled towards the sands, nose and throat irritated after almost drowning. She laid down, the waves mocked her as they blanketed Seulgi’s legs.

“Come here,” Jaeyi beckoned. Seulgi sat up straighter, inching closer when Jaeyi reached out to take her injured hand. Jaeyi’s thumbs pressed onto the small wound, barely visible as a small circle. Numbness surrounded her palm, and Seulgi couldn’t feel anything even as Jaeyi gave more pressure.

Jaeyi repeatedly splashed the purplish dot with water. “Wash it again after, okay? Be more careful.”

And when twilight came, the moon set along with Jaeyi. Seulgi gazed out the windows of her home, waiting for the pot of water to heat up. The area around her palm was still swollen with pain that coursed through her entire body, although it had become a little smaller.

Seulgi turned away, groaning as the suffocating sensation had finally left her body, only to be replaced with sharp bites and pricks, the sting no longer numbing. It was so uncomfortable how swollen it was, bruised and itchy with red and purple.

Then Seulgi felt something soft and wet on her palm. It lingered on her wound for a second too long to be a mere drop of water. She locked eyes with Jaeyi, whose lips were still puckered up.

Jaeyi giggled.

As Seulgi let a towel soak up the heated water before pressing it onto her injury, she thought about Jaeyi.

Seulgi remembered a conversation she once had with Jaeyi. It was on a dim night, giant clouds had left only the crown of the moon visible. Wind blew heavily against the sea, heavy waves rocking her rowboat back and forth.

Jaeyi often tagged along on Seulgi’s sails, mostly delegated to tasks such as helping push the boat or luring the fish—Seulgi had stopped Jaeyi from netting entire schools of fish; the reason being Seulgi didn’t want to become completely dependent on the mermaid’s assistance. Jaeyi became pouty for days.

Stillness was in the air. Seulgi waited for a pull on her fishing rod while Jaeyi swam lazily back and forth, not too close to where the hook was in order to better the chances of a catch.

“Have you ever wanted to go on land?” Seulgi suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

A laugh from Jaeyi. “Only in fantasies, that could never happen unless I grew legs,” she said.

A sensible answer, of course. But if humans could swim and dive, couldn’t mer walk and run too? Maybe not, they would have to slither like snakes. And Jaeyi didn’t seem to like being up on the sea’s surface for too long either, there would always be a pause in their conversations where Jaeyi dipped below for a few seconds before coming back to continue talking.

That thought continued chewing at her mind for days, stuck like tar. Seulgi hacked away at a fallen tree, chopping off logs. Then, a drizzle. Light, but it warned Seulgi of the downpour that would soon come. It sprinkled all over the grass, Seulgi’s hands, her hair, everything. Carrying the firewood, Seulgi hastened her steps.

Quickly storing the firewood on a rack outdoors, Seulgi made her way inside. She took off her boots with a grumble. Annoyed and now stuck inside her home with nothing to do, Seulgi looked out the window. It was just past noon, the earlier sizzling of the sun’s heat had disappeared. Birds flew back to their nests, and the flowers head back to sleep.

The looming clouds did not deliver Seulgi’s expectations, though. The light rain only continued, barely making a dent in the windows and roof. Seulgi busied herself by sharpening the tip of her harpoon and sewing back together a small tear in her net. As Seulgi stitched the mesh, an idea popped up in her head. She looked out, the cloudy weather didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. A grin.

The net was left on the table. It’s fine, Seulgi thought, I’ll finish it up later. She still had plenty of cast nets to use, one torn net wouldn’t be a huge problem for her. It was when Seulgi was already down on the beach did she realized that she had no idea where Jaeyi was. Strange, they’ve been meeting for months, yet it never occurred to Seulgi what Jaeyi did during the day or where she even went.

“Jaeyi!” Seulgi tried calling out to the sea.

There was no answer at first.

Seulgi’s feet tiptoed over the edge, where the sea meets the earth. An idea passed by, for a moment, to dive down into the sea. However, that was plain moronic, and Seulgi was no moron. But what she was, though, was absolutely obsessed with Jaeyi. So she got closer until her feet no longer touched the sands, and tried to keep herself afloat.

She swam a little away from the coastline, avoiding the waves that constantly lunged at her. Diving down, the underwater view was only slightly clearer than at night. Everything was still a hazy blur of blue. It was lifeless. Seulgi couldn’t see any crabs or shrimps crawling around. There was no sound of the sea, no choirs of mammals or murmurs of plants.

Seulgi came back up for air, and as she did, she tried again. “Jaeyi!” Seulgi’s eyes darted around, not a ripple out of place.

“Boo!”

Her body jolted as a set of hands almost pushed her back into the drowning depths. Seulgi had never screamed so hard. She turned around and was met with the mermaid she had been looking for, but instead of happiness, Seulgi only wished she hadn’t done this.

I hate you.

Seulgi didn’t vocalize it, but believe her when she said she really wanted to. Seulgi glared at Jaeyi, swimming back to the beach in purposefully exaggerated motions, splashing large amounts of water which hopefully landed on Jaeyi’s face.

“I wanted to tell you something, but seeing how you scared me earlier, now I don’t want to.” Seulgi’s words were enticing enough for Jaeyi.

“What is it? Tell me!”

“No.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.”

Apparently, two words were enough for Seulgi to take Jaeyi back. “How could you hear me?” she asked Jaeyi.

“That is a secret for another time. Tell me what you wanted to say first,” Jaeyi said.

Seulgi bent down. “You’ve shown me the ocean, now I want to do the same for you.”

“And how exactly are you planning to do that?”

Seulgi urged Jaeyi to get closer with a wave of her hand. The mermaid was rightfully skeptical, but she trusted Seulgi enough to get closer to the beach. Jaeyi almost laid down on her stomach, the waves were no longer strong enough to pull her back in. The light rain became a personal shower for Jaeyi, pouring and flowing down her body. That was a part of Seulgi’s plan.

Swiftly, Seulgi’s arms wrapped around Jaeyi. With a small huff, she lifted Jaeyi up, prompting the mermaid to yelp and cling onto Seulgi, arms circling Seulgi’s neck. One of Seulgi’s hands held Jaeyi’s back, lightly squishing her pair of soft fins, while the other hand carried the slippery tail, surprisingly heavy. Thanks to her childhood of hauling baskets twice the size of her and her profession of fishery and sailing, Seulgi had successfully lifted Jaeyi into her arms.

“What are you doing?!” Jaeyi was still shaking in Seulgi’s hold, eyes trembling in part shock and part worry.

“It’s okay,” Seulgi reassured her, “Trust me.”

Seulgi carefully shifted her weight, properly placing her hands so it wouldn’t squeeze Jaeyi’s fins—they were soft as wool and Seulgi didn’t want to damage them—and her tail was secured. There was that sunny glow again, emanating warmth everywhere they touched. Jaeyi buried her face in Seulgi’s wet tunic. Seulgi felt a shiver from her.

Fortunately, as Seulgi carried her up the stairs and towards the serene woods, Jaeyi began to come out of her cocoon. Seulgi saw the mermaid in awe, reaching out to touch the roughness of a tree’s bark and smell the earthy scents of rain hitting the soil.

They didn’t say anything to each other. Seulgi was content with letting Jaeyi explore the world above, even if only a little. Sometimes Jaeyi pointed to a bush of thorns or a squirrel climbing the trees, to which Seulgi happily explained in simple terms.

Seulgi came to a clearing of the woods, the familiar cliffs stood in front of them. She would have carried Jaeyi for longer, but her strained muscles were begging to rest. Gently, Seulgi put Jaeyi down, helping her sit. Of course, Seulgi didn’t show a wince when she stretched her arms and something cracked.

Sitting down next to Jaeyi, Seulgi dangled her legs over the cliffs. The tides were resting low under them, the sea cave only being half-submerged. The drizzle still accompanied them, falling on their faces—and drying up upon contact with Jaeyi’s skin, Seulgi noted.

“Thank you for showing me this,” Jaeyi said to Seulgi. She was leaning back on her arms, her tail swinging up and down. “I never thought it would be this beautiful,” Jaeyi brushed her hand against the patch of wildflowers, rubbing the petals and stems in wonder.

“It was my pleasure,” Seulgi plucked a blooming cornflower.

She placed the flower behind Jaeyi’s ear, tucking it so as to not fall off. They stayed there for a while, living in each other’s presence, invading one another’s spaces and breathing the same air. And when the time came for Jaeyi to go back, as glimpses of the sun seeped through the sparse clouds, Seulgi carried her back home towards the open ocean.

“Seulgi, do you have anything for me today?” Ara was cleaning her cutting board, splashing it, then wiping it with a handkerchief.

Seulgi sighed. She showed Ara her almost-empty basket. It was only a couple of salmon. She even tossed in some shrimps in hopes Ara would pay for it. Ara shook her head and huffed, taking the catch anyway.

Prices of even the most common fish, like herrings and sprats, have been soaring through the roof lately. Seulgi had no idea why, why she had been getting fewer and fewer catches each day. It seemed like none of the fishermen in town knew either, believing it to be some sort of bad luck that had cursed them.

“Has it been bad lately?” Seulgi asked.

Ara’s knife scaled through the herrings cleanly. “Look around you, no one’s even buying fish anymore,” she pointed to the deserted fish market. Most of the townspeople had flocked over to the greens or ate from their own produce.

Seulgi waited for her basket to be returned. It seemed like now that her stall was less crowded, Ara was more willing to talk to Seulgi. She watched as the shrimps were rinsed in ice water. “None of those rich sailors have been coming back either. You think something might’ve happened to them?” Ara said.

“Rough seas, maybe.”

Ara hummed, “Probably.” She finally handed the basket over to Seulgi, along with a few silver coins.

“Thanks,” Seulgi said before walking away.

There was a commotion, though, at the center of town right next to the sailor’s statue. Seulgi shouldn’t have gotten involved; their affairs were their own, and Seulgi’s affairs were hers, but the practically hysterical speech lured Seulgi in. She made her way towards the crowd, standing at the far back.

“You may not believe me, but we are at the end of times!” It was Beomsoo, the town’s rather infamous seer. Seulgi didn’t know much about the psychic, only ever hearing rumors and gossip at the tavern, about her maniacal ramblings and oftentimes predictions of bad luck that supposedly came true.

Mumbles spread throughout the small crowd.

“Is she crazy?”

“I can’t believe she’s still even here.”

“I say we just kick her out of the damn town already.”

“There I was, on a ship steered towards home. First, I heard the earth roar beneath me. Its teeth snapped and tore the tarred planks. Second, I saw waves bigger than a mountain, towering over the dark clouds,” Beomsoo told the people.

Seulgi rolled her eyes. Do people really believe in this? More people began to gather around, pushing against Seulgi’s back.

“Swept under, I smelled blood. They tainted the pristine oceans with impure red,” Beomsoo continued.

“I was forced to gulp the waters, saltiness mixing with the metallic taste of my own. And finally, I felt a touch as freezing as ice hold my arm, it pulled me down.”

Tired of the nonsense Beomsoo was spewing, Seulgi managed to break away from the amassing crowd. “One of us will bring calamity to this place, a trekker of the seas with the very sun in their palms…” The seer’s voice trailed off as Seulgi got closer to the town’s edges.

As her boots stepped on the muddy path, Seulgi focused on her main worries, that being the empty sea and the fact that Jaeyi had disappeared along with it.

“You will come back on the full moon again, won’t you?” Seulgi set Jaeyi down on the beach, pushing her to the sea so Jaeyi could gain the momentum to swim away.

Rain had stopped just moments earlier, and Jaeyi’s gills were burning in the dryness of the air above.

“Of course. Though I might take a long time, never stop waiting for me.”

Seulgi was anxious. The sea was silent, its waves rigid and tired, the clear blues were now darker and more private. Seulgi longed to hear Jaeyi’s singing again.

The lighthouse’s growing flame cast light onto the sick waters below, offering a piece of hope in the middle of the darkness. The waves no longer tried to take Seulgi apart, they no longer scraped the sides of her rowboat or tossed her around. No, they were silent and sick of her.

Seulgi sat down on the dock, unwilling to set sail when she would just come back home with an empty net. She had been surviving on salted or smoked whitefish, sometimes spending some of her savings on dinner.

Her body swayed, weak against the blowing wind. Her eyelids were heavy, and Seulgi kept finding herself falling asleep. She shouldn’t have been out here anyway, there was nothing for her to see. But something, her heart, told her to be here. Just in case.

Something roughly smacked the supports of the dock. Shocked and now wide awake, Seulgi scanned the area for the source. To her side, her rowboat had tipped over to its side, the bow must’ve tapped the wood. As she went over to fix it, ripples emerged from the quiet, collapsed waves.

A shadow, Jaeyi, emerged on the beach, stranded.

“Jaeyi!”

Seulgi ran over as fast as she could. She held Jaeyi in her arms, and for a moment, she flinched from how her hands burned at the touch of Jaeyi’s skin.

“You’re having a fever,” Seulgi said, mostly to herself. She pushed Jaeyi to where the waves could blanket her if needed. Seulgi pressed the back of her hand to Jaeyi’s burning forehead.

“Wait here, okay?” It hurt Seulgi when the only response Jaeyi could muster was a dry, starchy groan. Seulgi rushed back to her home, rummaging through the cabinets. Inside one near the kitchen, she found it. A small jar of willow bark, bundled up neatly in several groups. Seulgi took a batch of the herbal remedy to boil in a pot. Letting the bark simmer, she wet a washcloth and wrung it.

Going back down to the beach, Seulgi sat on her knees and placed the damp cloth over Jaeyi’s forehead. She didn’t know any other way to take care of the mermaid, and having to stay in the water only made things a tad more difficult.

“I’m brewing some tea right now, it’ll make you feel better,” Seulgi comforted Jaeyi as she counted the minutes, sometimes changing the washcloth or flipping to the other side.

Jaeyi was sickeningly pale as a sheet of paper, only being able to breathe through her gills and shiver. Her fins did not give off their embracing blue glow or the blushing orange, their colors faded into mirrors. Her hair, black as night and flowing like waterfalls, was now frazzled and stiff.

Thinking that the herbal tea must have finished by now, Seulgi pulled away from Jaeyi’s hands that she had been holding for the past ten minutes or so. They fell limp on Jaeyi’s sides.

“I’ll be back,” Seulgi said.

Opening the door, the smell of wood and earth welcomed her. Seulgi took the pot of willow bark and strained it with a filter mesh several times until she was sure there were no longer stray pieces of bark. Steam flew from the cup. Seulgi grabbed a clean spoon, stirring the tea.

Coming back to Jaeyi, Seulgi took the washcloth off her forehead and put it on the ground. She sat Jaeyi up while also making sure at least some parts of her body were underwater. Seulgi took a spoonful of the willow bark and lightly blew on it.

“Drink it,” she moved the spoon closer to Jaeyi’s mouth. Jaeyi furrowed at the sight of it, but still opened her mouth, albeit under pressure.

Jaeyi made a face as the liquid went down her throat. Fortunately, she still accepted every offer of willow Seulgi gave her. The cup was now empty, and the washcloth still laid on the beach.

Seulgi had placed her hand on the small of Jaeyi’s back, gentle and avoiding the folded fins that rested there. Seulgi wanted to guide her back to sea, but Jaeyi hadn’t budged yet.

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Thanks to you,” Jaeyi’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, but it was all the energy she had.

“I’m glad to have helped, even if just a little,” Seulgi said.

Without warning, Jaeyi’s tail swung around with all her might and wrapped around Seulgi. Jaeyi snuggled close, laying her head on the crook of Seulgi’s neck.

“Jaeyi—”

“Let me have this moment, please.”

And Seulgi did. She rested her cheek atop Jaeyi’s crown—if she was born with boldness, she would’ve given little kisses on Jaeyi’s head. Alas, Seulgi was meek and a coward.

A tickling and fuzzy sensation came from Jaeyi’s nose nuzzling at her neck. Seulgi looked down at sleeping beauty. Her eyes were closed, and her gills fluttered slowly in the air. Seulgi’s hands reached to untangle the messy locks Jaeyi had.

I think I love you,

Seulgi bit her tongue.

“Have you ever loved someone?” Those were the words that came out instead. Jaeyi had one eye open, oceanic glints faded in and out of it.

“I don’t recall ever hearing that word. Could you tell me?” Jaeyi’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her breath was still warm from the fever that afflicted her.

Seulgi was conflicted. She didn’t have any experience with true love, only knowing fictional stories with unrealistically happy endings. Eloping love-stricken teenagers, husband and wife living in their own world where it was just the two of them, a father teaching his son and a mother cooking for her daughter.

Seulgi was not a woman of love. Her relationship with her father was complicated. He took care of her, yes, and she listened to him most of the time, but that was as far as a love Seulgi could give. She loved him as a father, and that was all. Then he was gone, and she was alone.

“I don’t know much either,” Seulgi spoke the bare truth, “It’s a deep feeling residing in your heart, when you look at someone and you just… want to take care of them and stay together for the rest of your lives.” I think.

Jaeyi hummed, “Ah... Well, I used to love my family.”

“What happened?”

Jaeyi avoided Seulgi’s stare. “Father had two children. They were killed,” Her voice became quieter. “by a man, and I was the only one who survived.”

There were no right words to say at that moment, and Seulgi didn’t think she was qualified to. She cradled Jaeyi closer, her arm wrapped around and gave Jaeyi’s hand a light squeeze, hoping it said everything that Seulgi couldn’t.

“Your family?” Jaeyi asked. Her fingers traced the lines on Seulgi’s palm, occasionally circling the calluses.

“My father disappeared months ago on a sail,” Seulgi recounted the days in her head, “It’s been almost a year.”

“Do you know what happened?”

Seulgi shook her head. “No,” she said, “I don’t think I want to know either.”

“Seulgi, I—” Jaeyi was cut off by a sudden shaking from the cliffs behind. They both turned around, the noise had come from several pebbles falling off the high ground.

“What was that?” Jaeyi uncurled her tail, moving away from where she sat. Seulgi stood up, brushing dust off her clothes. She didn’t really see anybody, and it was unlikely for someone to come out here at night, especially to the lighthouse of all places.

“I don’t know, but it’ll be fine,” Seulgi reaffirmed. Her touch was light and patient as she guided Jaeyi back to the waves. It could be that Seulgi was so worried over Jaeyi that she didn’t notice it until now, but the dark sea seemed to have regained some energy. It accepted the offering of Jaeyi, embracing the mermaid.

“Jaeyi,” Seulgi called as she lowered herself down before Jaeyi could swim away.

“Hm?”

Seulgi’s eyes flicked down to Jaeyi’s lips. She wanted to take Jaeyi’s sickness away, the cause of how pale and dry her lips had become. Jaeyi was god, yet Seulgi cursed her with mortality.

“Just,” Seulgi still couldn’t. “Promise me you’ll be okay,” she could only plead.

Jaeyi didn’t say anything, didn’t promise anything to Seulgi. She only gave a small nod before being taken away by the sea.

As Seulgi walked up the cliff’s steps, she made her way to the front door. It was left ajar after she brewed willow bark for Jaeyi. Closing it behind her, the chilling wind no longer prodded at her bones.

But the floorboards creaked a little too much, and the heat suddenly left Seulgi’s home. A shiver passed through and Seulgi grabbed her lantern, sighing as she tasted a sample of fire. Goosebumps were appearing all over, her arm hairs standing stiff.

A melody called for Seulgi. It was not Jaeyi’s hymn of whistles and foreign languages, the one she would always sing on bright nights. Instead it was the song of silence, and it came from the top of the lighthouse.

When Seulgi took the last flight of stairs that led to the pyre, the fire that had always given light to the world at night was put out. The wispy streaks of smoke had almost faded into oblivion.

Someone had been here, and they saw Jaeyi.

The night after, Seulgi went out for another trip. Despite her complaints that unfortunately fell on deaf ears, Jaeyi had come along with her. Seulgi’s heartbeat was erratic, her lungs rose until they broke her ribs but she just couldn’t breathe. She was unable to keep her arms still, and they shook the oars.

Seulgi had a feeling that Jaeyi knew there was something wrong. Could Jaeyi sense it? Her distress?

Attempts at striking conversation had been made, but they were futile in the end. Seulgi avoided any sort of topic that were questions directed at her. The cast net won’t catch anything, Seulgi had known that, and maybe Jaeyi did too, but they stayed out in the sea anyway.

The moon would soon begin to set. Seulgi was already rowing back home, keeping up the appearance that she was saddened by tonight's empty catch, while Jaeyi gave the boat a push.

Seulgi could see the lighthouse’s beacon of light from beyond the mist that had ensnared the coast. Thank the gods it’s still burning, Seulgi said to herself.

The bow tapped the end of the dock. Seulgi jumped off and moored the boat. “Thank you for accompanying me,” Seulgi rushed her goodbyes to Jaeyi, “maybe it’s best if you—”

Clack.

A gun was cocked to the back of her head.

Her eyes widened. Her heart stopped beating. The rope was out of her grasp, just inches in front of her boots. In front of her, Jaeyi was in the sea with her mouth agape. Frozen.

“I knew there was something with you the night I saw you near those cliffs.” It was Nari’s voice, venomous and vile. Seulgi tried to remember when Nari had seen her before, but the musket aimed at her made her lose all track of thought.

Jaeyi was still there.

She was still in front of the docks.

She was seen by another human, one who was not so kind.

“But, when I saw you with that thing yesterday,” Nari spat out, “I couldn’t actually believe it. Oh, Seulgi,” she said.

“Nari, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Seulgi’s head was knocked forward by the firearm that was still ready to shoot her. “I know what I’m doing, and I know what I saw,” Nari snarled.

The musket’s muzzle was lowered down until Seulgi could no longer feel it aimed at her. Seulgi looked at the harpoon that laid on the boat’s bottom, if she could just reach it then she could save Jaeyi and herself—

Her body was spun around before she could react by a rough yank on her shoulders. Nari’s grip on the musket tightened. Next to her was Beomsoo. The seer’s gaze pierced through her skull, and despite having nothing to hide, Seulgi stepped backwards, which only made things worse.

“I see it,” Beomsoo said, “she has been bewitched by that monster.”

Seulgi couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“She is the catalyst, the one in my dreams.”

“We’ll kill her now, right?” Nari asked.

Beomsoo refused, “The crisis will only be averted if we do a proper sacrificial ritual.”

“You… I’ve done nothing wrong all my life, and now I’m suddenly the bringer of end times?” Seulgi retorted. She sidestepped closer to her boat, but she couldn’t get down just yet.

“You have done no wrong. But that mer, it has you in its claws,” Beomsoo pointed to Jaeyi.

“Jaeyi? She’s—”

“Oh, so it has a name too?” Nari got closer.

“She is not an it, Nari,” Seulgi pushed Nari back. A mistake fueled by growing anger, as she still had nothing to defend herself. It was only Beomsoo’s insistence on some ritual that Nari didn’t shoot her and Jaeyi right then and there.

“That monster could’ve been the one who killed your father.”

“You don’t know anything about my father, about me, about Jaeyi.”

“What I know is that everything has gone wrong since you met that mermaid,” Nari said, “Don’t you realize? The animals, livestock or wild, have all run away. Those fish of yours, they’ve disappeared from the ocean too.”

That was a fact, but they had nothing to do with Jaeyi. “I think it’s best if you don’t get all up in my business,” Seulgi asserted.

Taking a chance with the silence that fell over the docks, Seulgi grabbed her harpoon. In response, Nari fired a warning shot. The bullet missed, only grazing her shoulders as it flew into the sea. Seulgi can’t look back lest Nari fires again, but she hoped it didn’t hit Jaeyi.

“The hunter has a point. No mer would dare cross into land, not unless there’s something wrong with the oceans.”

“I’m not listening to you,” Seulgi pointed her harpoon towards Beomsoo.

The mist echoes their heavy breaths, the spear’s clink, the grating sounds of a reload before a clack signifying the cocked musket. The waves slept.

Then Seulgi heard it, the earth’s bellowing. Her feet no longer touched the ground as the planks shook. She was thrown all over the place, the sea waking up and crashing into her.

The jagged cliffs broke apart and boulders fell onto the beach below, whose sands trembled in fear. The voices of Nari and Beomsoo were far away, their hurried steps ran to safety.

The earth convulsed in pain, the sea cried, and the sky observed from above. As fast as it came, the quake stopped. Seulgi was crouched on the edge of the dock. Many of the wooden planks were strewn all over, some missing and others lying in the sea; only the ones near the support beams stayed partially intact.

Seulgi got on her feet and turned around. “Jaeyi!” she yelled as she searched for any glimpses of Jaeyi on the surface.

Jaeyi emerged from the sea below, shaken. She had her arms folded around her chest, her eyes unfocused and darting, lips quivering. Finally, she looked up at Seulgi.

“Seulgi, you’re hurt.”

Confused and still dazed, Seulgi could only stare at Jaeyi. Jaeyi’s shivering hand pressed onto her own shoulders, and that was when it clicked. Seulgi clutched a bundle of her tunic, bright red painted on her palm. She rolled up her sleeves, blood trailed down her arm and pain began to register in her mind.

Seulgi didn’t react, though. “I’m okay,” she smiled unconvincingly, “You have to leave, they might come back, and it’s too dangerous for you,” she said.

“Wait, Seulgi…”

“Don’t say anything, just go.”

“Just, you have to listen to me first.”

Jaeyi was unwilling to move, and Seulgi was unwilling to listen. She didn’t have time for this, they didn’t have time for this. Jaeyi had to go, now.

“What is it?” Seulgi gave in.

“About your father,” Jaeyi started, “I know what happened to him.”

“I told you yesterday that I didn’t want to know—”

“I killed him.”

What?

Seulgi dropped her harpoon. The metal spear made a loud, reverberating sound, drowning out the landslides and the falling waves that grew weaker. She couldn’t hear her own heartbeat.

At that moment, Jaeyi’s eyes did not show Seulgi the promises of a happy ending, not a glimpse into comfort and affection and love. She looked into Jaeyi’s eyes and it revealed to her a looming sense of dread.

“I didn’t want to.” The surroundings, the broken and torn landscape around them, misted and blurred. “He killed them first. He punctured their bodies with a harpoon, he toyed with them.”

“I saw them bleed out in front of me, Seulgi. I saw them. So I did the same to him.”

I did the same to him.

“When I realized what I had done, it was already over.”

His sailboat was lying on the bottom of the ocean along with his bones. Flesh ripped apart and skin with teeth marks sunk into it. Organs sliced in half and pierced against the rocks on the seabed. Lungs filled with freezing water and the last thing he saw was Jaeyi.

“It was a mistake to kill someone. But I was alone, Seulgi,” Jaeyi begged, “Alone. I ran away until the moon had risen and set so many times I didn’t know how long it had been.”

“Then I saw you.”

She couldn’t say anything.

“Seulgi? Can you please say something?” Jaeyi asked.

“You killed him,” Seulgi repeated. The harpoon was still there.

“I trusted you, Jaeyi.” Her heart lied down next to the harpoon, her mind along with it. There were so many things Seulgi could say, could scream. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Please, I’m sorry. If I had known, I wouldn’t have done it—”

“He’s dead,” Seulgi repeated again, as if saying it out loud would make a difference.

Seulgi had no more strength in her. Lifeless. She could barely utter a sentence. “Just go.” Seulgi wished for it all to go away.

“Seul—”

“Go! I don’t…” I don’t want to hear your voice anymore.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

Seulgi laughed. “What now? Will you kill me next?”

“I would never do something like that, not to you,” Jaeyi said, “you have to listen, something’s not right with this place.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You’re in danger.”

“Leave,” Seulgi picked up her harpoon. It didn’t fit snug and right in her hands as it used to be, like the fish’s blood could no longer be washed away, forever stuck to the tip. To Seulgi.

“Seulgi, I am one with the sea,” Jaeyi straightened her body. Perhaps to firmly stand her ground. But Seulgi could see the silhouettes, on the edges. Shadows linger behind Jaeyi, someone she can’t recognize.

“I feel something’s wrong, and the tremor only worsened it. I’m trying to protect you.”

Seulgi pointed the harpoon’s tip at Jaeyi’s chest, in between the skin that reflected scales. She imagines it pricking Jaeyi, the fresh wound oozing red. But she doesn’t. It hovered just inches away, because she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Please. Go,” Seulgi said.

“Seulgi.”

Prick.

Red. The color of love, of life, and of death. It bled, trickling down and staining the waters around Jaeyi. Jaeyi had come forward, intentionally pushing into the tip, or maybe she had pushed it into Jaeyi. Seulgi pulled the harpoon out. The wound gaped. Seulgi’s legs gave out, and the harpoon stood next to her. She felt a pair of lips brush against her cheeks, barely. The weight of a feather falling to the ground.

She didn’t know what it meant, what Jaeyi was trying to do. Then Seulgi felt a drop of rain hanging on her chin before dropping onto the board, and two. Three. Seulgi blinked, and her vision became glass. Jaeyi was kissing her tears. Kissing her tears away.

Jaeyi pulled back, her hands no longer holding onto the dock and falling to her sides. The shadow moved with Jaeyi, falling into the sea once more, where she belonged. Take care of yourself, she said. At least, that was what Seulgi imagined hearing.

And then nothing was left.

When Seulgi first heard Jaeyi’s singing, she thought it was a choir of angels. Something that was from another world, that she was never meant to hear. It teetered on the line of being uncanny, yet it gave a voice, an identity, to the sea that had always been her friend.

As she got to know Jaeyi more, her song went from an unfamiliar hymn into a beautiful lullaby. It always accompanied her on the lonely nights. It gave her something to look forward to, something that Seulgi truly wanted. It was just so Jaeyi, and nothing could ever replace her voice.

Seulgi had never been a good singer. And so when she cried, it was a cacophony of dry wails and muted pleas. Come back, she said, I didn’t mean it, she tried. The waves no longer wanted her, they pulled back further from the bed than Seulgi had ever seen them do.

Until only the sick plants were left. Dried out and wilted, they craved for the sea but it didn’t come back to them. Scattered rocks that were sanctuaries for small animals revealed nothing, for the animals had already gone.

That harpoon. Tremors filled her entire body as Seulgi picked it up. Jaeyi’s blood was still on it. Warm. It smelled metallic, rustic. It had a hint of seaweed too, something salty and like the sea. By this point, the blood that came from Seulgi’s graze wound had colored her entire arm, reaching her wrist.

A singular drop of her blood fell and mixed with Jaeyi’s.

Everything was clouded for Seulgi. She could no longer see what was in front of her, what she had to do, anything. Her emotions were all over the place. Seulgi’s teeth chattered in confusion and fear, her bloodied fist clenched in anger at everyone and herself, her tear stains were dry from the cold and having no more tears to cry for.

Seulgi curled in on herself, unable to move.

Voices were coming from behind her, curses and shouts directed at her. Footsteps came closer before stopping, hindered by the fragmented path. Their accusations were soon replaced by screams of terror, and they ran away just like the others had earlier.

Seulgi didn’t look up. Didn’t need to. Didn’t want to.

The waves stood taller than anything she had ever seen as they submerged her. The currents were rapid and powerful. Seulgi couldn’t swim against it. She was buried under, thrust into the fallen cliffs. Their spiked ends hit Seulgi’s head on the back.

The sea became redder. It was a beautiful color, but it didn’t suit well. Time slowed down. Seulgi saw other people fighting against nature itself even though they were mere men. Such foolish actions, she thought. Can’t they admire the beauty around them for once?

The two moons in the sky crumbled, one of them shattered and left the other by itself. Its light sizzled out. The world around her grew darker. Maybe it was her eyelids closing; Seulgi couldn’t really tell the difference anymore.

Bubbles rose out of her mouth. Seulgi wanted to see herself. She couldn’t. The water tasted weird in her mouth, something like a rotten fish. The sea carried her onwards, but someone stopped her from going.

A hand grabbed her waist, another holding the back of her bleeding head. Her view was nothing but a set of foggy colors without any proper details. A painting with only the base colors left unfinished. Seulgi knew that touch anywhere, though. Webbed, scaled.

For Seulgi,

The sea, Jaeyi, will continue to be an enigma to her.