Page 87 of The Noble's Merman

“Wenta!”

Mo swam backwards, out of the rogue wave’s way as much as he could muster, never letting go of Kent. But Wenta and the others were pushed away behind the water wall, the current too strong to swim against.

“Wenta! Allen! Seth!”

The three were much farther now, and each passing moment they only drifted further and further away. He could barely make out the details of their faces anymore with how distant they’d become.

“Mo, don’t concern yourself with us!” Allen yelled, the wind carrying his voice from afar. “Focus on Fareham. We can meet up on land later.”

He knew Allen was correct, as much as he wanted to reach out to them. But Kent was his utmost priority. He felt in his gut that the other three would be fine. “Yes, all right!”

With that, Mo adjusted his grip on Kent, feeling his breath on his neck, and swam onwards.

Thankfully, as he sped along, the strong waves around seemed to lessen. The water became calmer. The clouds above spread across the sky, the rain merely a light sprinkle, and the sun peeked out again, casting stark, shimmering rays upon the earth before him. Light bounced off the sea and into the atmosphere, highlighting a spot of shore in the distance.

While had no idea exactly which part of England this was, he knew it must be rather close to Kent’s home if that’s where the pirate ship was headed. Closer and closer he swam to land—stay strong, Kent! Only a little further now! The power of the connecting magic surged through him, giving him strength, filling his muscles and urging him forward. He’d never swam this fast before, absolutely never, especially not while holding onto the weight of another being. But he was thankful for this; he would not take for granted any power that helped keep Kent safe.

As land grew nearer, the details of it became clearer. This shore’s landscape was quite different from the one of Kent’s home: large rocks and boulders jutting out of the sea composing most of the beach, and rolling, grassy hills instead of forests of trees. Perhaps they were a bit further from home than he’d thought, but either way, he knew once they’d settled, Kent could navigate his way back home.

But if Kent goes home, what will happen to me?

Mo took in a deep breath, his heart beating fast.

What will happen to us?

He shrugged the nagging thoughts away as he focused on swimming onward. He couldn’t handle any more distressing thoughts, no, not when there were more important matters at hand.

Gliding along in the water, Mo managed to find a stretch of shore that was flatter than the rest—small pebbles and grass forming the smooth beach as opposed to the hard, rocky cliffs that surrounded it. It was so close, he could smell the earthy grass! He could taste the richness of the air! Oh, just a few more kicks, a few more thrusts of his tail, and they’d be there.

He’d completely lost track of Allen and the others; hopefully they were making it back to land safely just like him and Kent. He could only hope, but he didn’t doubt that a mermaid and a man with gills could easily pull Seth back to shore. And then—finally—finally—the water surrounding grew shallower. The ocean floor was so close to the surface now that his fins brushed against the underwater sand, and he had to maneuver carefully so he or Kent wouldn’t get tangled in seaweed.

With all his might, he crawled onto the pebble-filled beach, hauling Kent, panting ruthlessly, heart beat hammering. Needless to say, after a long swim at such an intense speed, he was exhausted. Before he allowed himself to collapse, he laid Kent down on the ground gently, careful that no stones cut into his skin and that they were far enough away from the water to where the waves wouldn’t cover his face.

“Kent…” Mo panted, raspy and low. He lay down next to his human, curling his arms around him, brushing Kent’s hair away from his face. “We… we made it…”

He put his hand flat on Kent’s chest, feeling his pulsing heartbeat, watching as his lungs gently filled with air—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Kent was alive. Kent was safe.

The rain had since completely stopped, letting the glow of the fresh sun blanket them.

Mo closed his eyes, content and blissful that the pirates could no longer hurt his beloved.

Kent wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, or if the strange, rough ground beneath him was real. His head felt heavy, his mind buzzing in a whirl, and he could barely open his eyes. But one thing that felt constant was the warm hand placed upon his chest through the opening of his soaking wet shirt—a comforting, reassuring magic pulsed within, and he knew that hand could belong to none other than Mo.

They were finally together again.

But… what happened?

As he started to come to, his lungs quaked, and he coughed a violent cough. He turned his head to the side, away from Mo, as he coughed out water that was trapped in his lungs.

“Kent! Are you all right?” he heard Mo say.

He coughed again before he could speak. He turned his head back toward the merman, finally able to open his eyes, catching sight of Mo’s concerned, tender expression. “Yes, I… feel all right. Where are we…?”

“I’m not quite sure exactly, but I know we’re back in England.”

“England?”

“Yes. I carried you, and swam us both here.” He smiled. “You’re safe now, Kent.”

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