Page 49 of Make Out With A Merman

To his people.

To the ones he lost.

To the ones he’s still trying to save.

At sunrise,I drag the whole setup down to the southern dock.

Ryder’s already there.

Of course he is.

He’s always up before the sun. Always in the water before the rest of us remember how to function.

He’s chest-deep, arms crossed like he’s arguing with the lake itself.

When he sees me coming with a tarp full of tangled tubing and glitter-smeared float rings strapped across my back like some chaos hydra, he blinks like I’m an illusion.

“You building a raft to escape camp?” he asks, voice low but not unkind.

I drop the load on the dock. “Tempting. But no. You’re stuck with me, barnacle boy.”

He raises an eyebrow.

I gesture to the mess. “It’s a safe float system. Night-lit. Linked for visual boundary guidance.”

He stares.

I grin. “In English? It glows. It floats. It helps the kids not die.”

His eyes drop to the larger center rings, the ones with the markings.

And that’s when he stills.

I fidget suddenly. Which Ineverdo. “I, uh, copied the patterns from that notebook you left out. The one in your cabin. I figured they weren’t just doodles.”

“They’re not,” he says softly.

We both go quiet.

The lake licks the dock gently, like it’s listening.

He steps closer.

Touches one of the glowing blue rings.

His thumb runs along the markings, so reverent it hurts to watch.

“These… these are deathlights,” he says.

I blink. “Wait,what?”

He looks up quickly. “Not in a bad way. They’re tributes. Beacons for those lost in the trench. They glow to show their spirits the surface. They’re used during mourning ceremonies.”

“Oh.” My voice goes small. “I didn’t know.”

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have known. But youstill made them.”

I shrug, awkward now. “I just figured... even warriors deserve stars.”

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