Page 5 of Entranced By the Nakken
Notebook, pen, and bass in tow, he fled to the comfort of his secret haven.
As he approached, he heard the same otherworldly music. Beautiful and sad. A pang of grief punched Casey’s gut, a longing for somewhere he’d never been. It threatened to send him to his knees, but he forced his feet forward.
The music grew louder with every step until he couldn’t deny it was real. This was no figment of his imagination. Something between the trees reflected the sunlight like a mosaic.
Casey emerged from the tree line. The music stopped abruptly, but the masterpiece sitting on a large rock smack dab in the middle of the brook was definitely prettier than any mosaic.
“It’s you,” Casey breathed. He felt like a starstruck groupie gaping at their favorite musician. “You’re—you’re—”
“Not human,” the embodiment of beauty supplied with a wry scowl, holding their violin like they might continue playing any moment. “Correct.”
“Breathtaking,” Casey finished.
The creature’s eyes widened. The teal hue of their cheek scales shimmered in a way that had nothing to do with the sun now hiding behind puffy white clouds, like their beauty was too great for even it to bear.
“I mean, your music. Well, and everything else, too, but—ahh—” Casey snapped his mouth shut.Stop acting weird, man!He cleared his throat and tried again. “Your song is lovely.”
“No.” They lowered their instrument and scowled at it like it’d fucked their mom.
“Maybe it’s missing something.” Casey tentatively set down his bass, placing the notebook and pen on top. He moved slowly, conscious of the piercing glass eyes tracking his every move.
This was his chance. There was no doubt in Casey’s mind that this was the same spirit—or whatever they were—that had saved his life. He gathered his courage and met their piercing gaze.
“I don’t know if you remember me, but—”I’ve missed you every day of my life since we met.Casey tripped over the sudden words that almost poured from his lips, and the truth of them made him literally trip. He stumbled forward and narrowly caught his balance on a wet rock, only to slip again.
A blue hand caught Casey by the shoulder. Casey instinctively grabbed on, noticing the wide fins that extended from their forearm like wings. Shorter than Casey, they were bare from tip to toe, with the lean, athletic body of a swimmer. Silver hair cascaded over glittering teal shoulders, all leading up to disdainful watery eyes.
"Thank you,” Casey croaked sheepishly, his whole body on fire with embarrassment. This was not how he’d pictured this moment, and he’d pictured it often.
“You’re no less clumsy than last time,” his savior—for the second time—grumbled, helping him to his feet on dry-ish land. “No matter. The blood contract doesn’t require you to have better coordination than a blind cave fish.”
“I mean thanks for everything, not —wait, what?” Casey couldn’t feel anything past the prickling of his scalp. None of this was going as he’d imagined. “Blood contract?”
“I received your offering.”
They offered no further explanation, simply stared at Casey with their perfect lips flat.
“My. . .”
A transparent film slid up and down over their aqua irises, their scowl deepening. Patience wasn’t a strong suit of theirs, Casey gathered.
“I see you’ve brought your instrument.” The creature nodded toward Casey’s belongings. “We begin now.”
“Okay,” Casey agreed. To what, he wasn’t sure, but if it kept them around, he was all in.
It took two milliseconds to extract his guitar and flip open his notebook. A flutter crackled across his every nerve when the water spirit sat close enough that if he leaned back on his palms, their fingers might brush.
What the fuck was this unfamiliar bullshit in his gut? Like a hive of fucking bumble bees had taken up camp. With one exception, in his past, Casey was the kind of guy that thrived on the chase. Right now, all he wanted was to learn every tiny detail about the person before him.
“I’m Casey, by the way.” He strummed a chord to keep his hands where they belonged. “I go by he and him pronouns. Will you tell me about yourself?”
“Tsunis. They." Tsunis tipped their chin in some kind of bow.
“Tsunis.”
“Correct. Now,” Tsunis spared Casey a brief glance. They had one leg tucked up, blue toes digging into the marshy bank. Their other leg was outstretched and ended in a long, wide fin, which they allowed the water to shower. “Play.”
Casey obeyed, cringing at how rusty he sounded. Tsunis made no indication they were paying attention, which simultaneously helped and made things worse.
