A lone boat bucked and heaved, fighting against the violent waves, a fragile toy in the hands of an angry god. The salty air whipped his face, stinging his eyes. Salt crusted his lips. The sea roared. The inky depths swirled with foam. His weathered hands gripped the helm.
"Damn."
The boat lurched, nearly pitching him overboard. The seawater shotgunned his face. His hip slammed against the gunwale. Pain shot through his side, but he gritted his teeth and held on.
Lightning split the sky.
He ventured further than usual, lured by the promise of a bountiful catch. As the sky darkened to a gray and lightning forked across the horizon, he realized his folly.
A mountainous wave loomed before him. Its crest frothed with a maw of white foam.
His eyes widened.
Water crashed over the deck, filling his mouth and nose — submerged — disoriented.
His lungs burned.
The boat flipped and splintered, and he was thrown into the churning maelstrom.
He surfaced, gasping and sputtering. He wheezed, blinking water from his eyes. He flailed, desperately trying to orient himself. Up and down lost all meaning as he tumbled through the water.
Lightning flashed, revealing the shattered remains of his boat.
Blazed lungs, screaming for air.
Panic set in, primal and all-consuming.
Exhaustion settled into his bones, and the relentless sapped his strength.
As consciousness slipped away, a peculiar metamorphosis occurred within Goro's mind. The panic that had gripped him moments before receded like the tide, leaving behind a landscape of strange tranquility. In this liminal space between life and oblivion, time seemed to stretch and warp.
The sea wrapped him in a final embrace. He found himself tracing the contours of the relationship — from his first wide-eyed wonder as a boy, standing on the shore, to the countless dawns spent on rolling decks, to this, their ultimate union.
Memories flickered through his fading consciousness: the rough caress of weathered ropes against his palms, the scent of tar on sun-bleached boards, the symphony of creaking timbers and lapping waves that had been his lullaby for decades. Each sensory fragment carried with it a tangle of emotions — pride, fear, love, resentment — all distilled now into a bittersweet essence of existence.
He pondered the cruel poetry of his fate. Was this not the culmination he had always, somewhere deep in the recesses of his soul, anticipated? The sea, in all its capricious glory, had been both his greatest love and his most formidable adversary. Now, as it claimed him, he recognized a profound symmetry in this ending.
His mind, ever restless, grasped at threads. What was the nature of this calm that enveloped him? Was it merely the brain's final, desperate attempt at self-preservation, or something more transcendent? He had never considered himself a spiritual man, yet now, on the threshold of eternity, he felt a curious connection to something vast and ineffable..
As the last vestiges of consciousness dwindled away, a smile played upon his salt-crusted lips. There was, he mused in his final coherent thought, an exquisite irony in finding enlightenment at the very instant it could no longer serve him in the realm of the living.
The darkness engulfed him then, not as an end, but as a transition — a passage into the unknown depths of both the sea and his own psyche. In that eternal moment, he surrendered himself to the infinite mystery that had called to him all his life.
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His eyes fluttered open.
Blurry.
He blinked, trying to clear the haze.
'What.'
The light was wrong, filtered and blue. He tried to sit up, only to realize he was already upright, suspended in what appeared to be...
Water?
Panic surged through him again. He thrashed, expecting to choke, to feel the burn of saltwater in his lungs. But the burning never came.
He was breathing.
Underwater.
"Please, calm yourself," a melodic voice cut through his confusion. "You're safe here."
Goro froze, his gaze settling on the source of the voice. Before him floated a woman – no, not a woman. Where legs should have been, a long, iridescent tail undulated gently. Her concerned eyes were deep and mesmerizing blue.
"What, what is this?" Goro asked, his own voice sounding strange in his ears. "Am I dead?"
The mermaid — for what else could she be? — shook her head, her long hair swirling around her like living seaweed. "No, Goro. You are very much alive. And you are home."
'She knows my name…'
His brow furrowed. "Home? This isn't... I don't understand."
The mermaid's expression turned solemn. "There is much you don't know about yourself, about your true heritage. You are the rightful heir to the Atlantic Kingdom. And you may be our only chance at peace with the humans."
A bark of laughter escaped, bordering on hysteria. "Peace with humans? I am human!"
"Are you?" Her gaze intensified. "How then do you explain your ability to breathe underwater? The ease with which you move in this realm?"
He looked down at his hands — a webbing between his fingers. His heart raced, mind reeling with implications.
"Madness," he whispered.
"It's the truth," the mermaid said, "One that has been hidden from you for your own protection. But the time for secrets has passed. War looms. Between our world and the surface. Only you, with a foot in both realms, can hope to bring peace."
Goro shook his head, overwhelmed. "You have the wrong person. I'm just some random fisherman. I can't, I'm not…"
The mermaid's eyes softened. "Your father knew the truth. He was tasked with protecting you, raising you in the human world until the time was right."
"My father?" he said, "He knew about all this?"
The mermaid nodded. "He sacrificed much to keep you safe. But now, you, King Kazuhiko, heir to the Atlantic throne, it is time."
As if on cue, the water around them began to shift and swirl. Goro watched in awe as the currents coalesced, forming a shimmering trident that hovered before him.
"Take it," the mermaid urged. "Claim your birthright."
He hesitated. His hand trembled as he reached for the weapon. The moment his fingers wrapped around its haft, a surge of power coursed through him. Knowledge flooded his mind — of underwater cities and mer-people.
He gasped, nearly dropping the trident. "Who... who are you?" he asked the mermaid, his voice hoarse.
She smiled. "I am Nerissa, your betrothed. Welcome home, my prince."
Goro's world tilted on its axis once more. He stared at the trident in his hand, then at Nerissa, then at the vast underwater expanse around them. The weight of expectation settled on his shoulders, heavier than any net he ever hauled.
"I... I need time," he said.
Nerissa nodded. "Of course. But be warned. We're running out of time. The surface world grows restless, and our own people grow impatient. We need a leader. We need you."
As if to punctuate her words, a distant rumble echoed through the water. He turned, seeing flashes of light in the murky distance. His grip on the trident tightened.
The rumbling grew louder. Goro closed his eyes, took a deep breath of water that somehow felt as natural as air, and made his decision.