Page 12 of The Noble's Merman

He went on to read passages from it, starting off with merfolk language and writing. Mo could speak and understand human languages, however, his vocabulary only went as far as his own knowledge. If there was a thing or concept he was unfamiliar with, he wouldn’t know the proper word. The book even went into further detail of which sea mammals merfolk could converse with: seals, narwhals, and orcas, to name a few.

The sun was getting lower in the orange sky, nearly touching the horizon to their right, as Kent read on, astounded at every miniscule detail. The book moved on to a section about food, how merfolk ate fish and various other sea life.

“I do eat fish normally, yes, but my favorites are actually cephalopods: octopus and squid,” said Mo. “Have you ever tried them?”

“No, I admit, despite living close to the sea, I haven’t eaten much seafood… Wait a moment. This all means, you… you eat them raw?”

Mo paused. “What do you mean by ‘eat them raw’?”

“Why, you’d cook them of course—oh! I’m such a dunce. You can’t cook anything underwater because you don’t have fire!”

“Fire? I know what that is.” He smacked his tail as he realized. He’d seen humans light up their ships with it, and how flames would consume the structures as they sank. “I would’ve never thought to use it with food, though.”

“Heating up food changes the taste and the texture of it. That means… you would’ve never had bread, cheese, chicken, steak, or even other things like cooked vegetables or beans. You probably don’t even know what beans are, do you?”

“No, not at all.” Mo chuckled.

“Next time I come visit, I’ll bring some human food for you. I’m certain you’ll love it,” said Kent, filled with laughter.

“Next time? So you don’t think I’m insufferable and you actually want to see me again?”

“Of course, silly!” Kent’s grin was infectious—so lovely, so genuine. “That, and we can’t go over the whole book in one evening, either. With all the information in it, it’s rather long. It’s starting to get dark, anyway.”

“Ah, that’s true.” As the sun began making its exit, the sky was fading from warm reds to cooler blues. “Before we put the book away tonight, did you find anything about becoming human?”

Kent’s smile waned, yet his cheeks flushed red, looking down somberly at his lap. He turned the pages toward the back of the book. “Well, nothing I think would be of use. It said the same exact thing you did, about how there were myths and legends, but the mermaid who helped the author never became human herself.” His fingers fumbled with the pages.

Mo pouted his lips. “What myths and legends did she speak of? I’m curious if they’re the same ones I know of.”

“Ah! Um, well…” Kent bit lower lip, looking quite adorably flustered. “There was a tale of how a mermaid kissed a human, and the kiss granted her legs. Another told of... of a merman and a woman—doing—having—sexual relations. B-but apparently, the mermaid Aen had done those things herself, and yet still remained a mermaid.”

Mo wanted to chuckle at how charming Kent was, but held it back. He didn’t wish to press the issue further, seeing Kent was flustered enough as it was. But as he reflected on what Kent said, the reality of becoming human only seemed more and more complicated than how the legends described, and he felt his gut sink. “I... I see. I’ve heard those same legends myself, but never knew them to be true.” He had also heard of a tale of a siren who became human, and being a siren himself, it gave him an inkling of hope, but since Kent didn’t mention it, he thought he ought not mention it, either. “Well, thank you for looking into it. I greatly appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome.” Kent made eye contact—a fond sort of expression. “However, perhaps there is still a way for you to become human. Since, even in the text, the mermaid expressed the same thing as you, how she believed it was possible.”

That perked him up. “That’s reassuring, at least. If other merfolk believe it, too.”

“Definitely.” Kent’s smile returned, warming Mo’s heart. “Though… even if you don’t have legs, I, um, I think…” He fidgeted with his hands, closing the book. “…I think your tail is gorgeous.”

The minnows in his chest started swirling like mad; his face feeling hot from Kent’s wonderful words. “Why… thank you.”

“May I…” Kent brought a hand up to his mouth, looking to the side briefly before looking back up to Mo. “May I touch it? I’m… curious to know what your scales feel like.”

Mo couldn’t help his grin from growing ridiculously wider. “Yes, you can. I don’t mind.”

“All right.”

Kent set the book down onto the shingles, and reached his out toward Mo’s hip. And—he touched him. He touched him slowly, softly, gently. Kent’s long fingers grazed against him in a way that felt so intimate, how he caressed his scales, petting down the length toward his tailfin. Mo felt the need to hold Kent’s hand, to guide him all across it, but held himself back.

“You feel…” Kent chuckled, “You feel like a fish! Except somehow, much softer. I don’t know how to explain it.” He tilted his head, his gaze following his hand as he continued petting down Mo’s tail. “You strange fish-man, you.”

“Merman, to be specific.” He smirked.

“Still like a fish, though.”

“Yes, still like a fish.”

Kent touched and lightly pulled on the fins on Mo’s hips. It made Mo’s heartbeat quicken, how careful he was. Oh, it was so hard to hold back his own hands from touching Kent as well, but he kept himself steady, resting them by his sides.

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