Page 3 of The Noble's Merman

It was a voice of rich deep tones—the melody dipping low, then gliding with precision to reach higher notes with ease, then back down. A slow, gentle tune with no words at all, simply letting out oo’s and ahh’s as the song saw fit. It pulled Mo closer still, as if he’d found a Siren’s Song to counter his own.

He’d never heard anything more beautiful in all his life.

From what little he could see and the timbre of the voice, the human singer sounded male. Oh, how he wished to get a better look, but he feared being caught. If this man’s voice was lovely, Mo could only wonder if his face was just as beautiful.

There were a few tall rocks sticking out of the water a bit closer to shore, wide enough to serve as camouflage. Perfect. Mo ducked under the water again to swim toward them, only peeping his head back up once he was sure he wouldn’t be seen. His long hair fanned around his shoulders as he found a comfortable spot to hide, water dripping down his face and onto his chest as he rose.

Now that Mo was nearer, the voice sounded clearer. It was a melody he couldn’t recognize, but one filled with intense emotion. A certain sort of longing, asking a question of which way was right, what he’d need to do to feel at peace. It tugged at Mo’s heart in a way he couldn’t really describe—not quite sad, but not quite happy either. He had no words, other than it was beautiful.

Mo dared to peek around the rock. If he was stealthy enough, he shouldn’t be seen. With such anticipation and excitement bubbling inside him, he couldn’t hold back. What was the worst that could happen?

Mo leant out, slowly, carefully?—

His heart skipped a beat as he saw the profile of the young man’s gorgeous face.

He was already much closer than he previously thought. As the man continued not to notice him, Mo in turn continued to stare. The man’s eye had no color at all, and instead it was clouded white. He’s blind, then? That would explain why as Mo crept his head out further, the young man gave no notice to him at all. But Mo could just see half of his face—perhaps only one of his eyes was blind.

Either way, the young man was strikingly handsome. He had pale skin and long, curly brown hair, tied back with a pretty black ribbon. With his soft facial features partially feminine, partially masculine, and paired with a deep voice that sounded delightful at any note, Mo felt minnows swirling in his chest. And while Mo knew close to nothing about human clothes, he at least admired them, especially how well they shaped the man’s alluring slender legs.

Oh, legs. Mo had always dreamt of what it would be like to have them.

While his life as a merman was, at the very least, adequate, he’d always longed for more. He longed to walk through the forest, to step foot into their marvelous buildings—things he could only explore if he were human.

And, if he thought about it long enough, he had to admit he was lonely.

Another being, someone who he could call his own, was a nice thought. The only times in his life where he truly felt fulfilled and happy were when he had something thrilling to look forward to, and the call of his Song usually only came around about every other moon. If it were possible, to have a human fill that open spot in his heart…

After one long final note, the young man ended his song. Mo felt a loss in his chest from the stretch of silence that followed, but his heart quickly picked back up at hearing him speak?—

“Perhaps I should head back,” the man said to the sea. “Father’s probably at sixes and sevens wondering where I went.”

Mo had no idea what that expression meant, but it only made his heart swell with more endearment.

But then the man shifted, putting a hand on his knee to sit up. It adjusted his posture, facing more toward Mo?—

He jolted out of the human’s view, nearly slamming his back against the rock to quickly hide away. Panting frantically, he held a hand flat against his chest, fingers brushing against the necklaces resting there. The man may have been blind in one eye, but there was still a chance he could see him with the other, and Mo didn’t want to take that chance just yet. He had only discovered him moments ago—and yet—while he wasn’t ready now, he didn’t want this to be the only time he gazed upon that beautiful face. But how could Mo guarantee he would ever see him again if he didn’t make himself known? He didn’t know who this man was, if he lived around these parts, or when he would ever be out here again.

Mo’s heart fluttered madly against his ribs, and he heaved out breath, after breath, after breath.

I need to say something.

So Mo closed his eyes and cupped his palms around his mouth, changing his tone and the direction of where his voice would go.

“Your song was brilliant. Your voice is so beautiful,” he spoke in human tongue.

It felt like his heart was about to stop. Each moment that passed tightened his neck, salty air caught in his throat.

“Wh-what? Is someone there?” the young man asked back.

Mo bit his lip, silently cursing as his fangs nearly tore the skin. Nerves had already reopened that scar too many times in his life.

But he had to confirm with the human, to make sure he was absolutely clear.

“I would love to hear it again. Please. Tomorrow. Same time, same place. I will be waiting,” said Mo.

Kent stood, bare feet digging into the pebbles, searching frantically all around to find the origin of the mysterious voice.

“Tomorrow? Wait, who are you?”

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