Chen floats near the surface of the ocean, eyes closed as he lets the rhythm of waves lull him into a restful state of mind. The light ripples gently over his face, and his dark hair swishes in time with the motion of the cool aquamarine water. His scales glint in the sunlight.

Maybe the birds think he's dead.

He flicks his tail a few times to deter any predatory animals and wonders what it would be like to fly. Or to walk on land. Or what it would feel like to have legs.  He imagines himself without his tail, as much as he loves it, walking upright on two separate appendages- and able to breath in the open air, not be restricted to the water. Wouldn’t that be a miracle? He sighs, a flurry of tiny bubbles escaping his mouth and gills each side of his neck.

He's not supposed to be this close to the coast, he's not allowed to be seen by anyone but he wants to see a human. He's been going to this place almost every day for a couple of weeks now, but he's never had the courage to go any closer than this.

He rolls over onto his front and gazes out over the light brown cliff face, adorned with overhanging trees and vines. A little further north of here there's a beach; he's seen it from a distance. Today, today for sure, he'll go as near as possible to the sandy shoreline and watch the goings-on of humans. He'll stay by rocks so nobody sees him.

It'll be fine.

His tail flows behind him as he undulates gently, the tips almost blending in with the sea and looking like tiny whirlpools. He's not as fast as his brothers, some of them with eclectic barracuda tails, but then neither would he want to be: he'd miss all the sights and sounds he gets to see.

He's lucky, he knows that, his older brothers all have various responsibilities to attend to, and he-being the youngest-only has to turn up to the many royal banquets held by his parents looking presentable.

He's a prince, but only barely. He doesn't act like royalty, and has the smallest crown of all his older brothers and sisters. It's more of a tiara, really, but it's made up of intricately grown blue coral and encrusted with hundreds of miniature pearls. It looks best in the warm orange light of the sunrise, if Chen can stay in the air long enough. They match the scales of his tail in this ambience.

He's nearing the edge of the water now, but he spent so much time dithering that the light is beginning to fade and there probably won't be any humans there either way. He promises himself resolutely that he won't be disappointed if the whole place is empty.

He's a fair distance away from the sand still, but he can already see that this area is devoid of all life. The shore is too shallow for him to breathe comfortably so he takes to the rock pools scattered evenly along the edge of the cliffs.

Maybe there'll be something he can bring back, something he can reach from the water's edge, something he can use as a souvenir for when the security is too good for him to escape. He has no real interest in the miniature seascapes which inhabit these craters beyond not destroying them as he clambers ungracefully over each ridge. This is going to be a nightmare to escape from quickly, if he needs to make a getaway. He should have used the whole afternoon planning this out better, but no. Daydreaming. His father always said he had his head in the clouds. He wished for it.

It’s no good: nothing made by humans is in reach. Chen sighs, and folds his arms on the damp rock in front of him, keeping his chin below the water so he doesn't suffocate. Chen wonders if this is even a beach that humans like to visit, as surely, there would be more evidence of them if they liked it here? Houses, and seats and lights? There's just one little wooden thing- it can't be called a house, Chen thinks; too small- with the roof falling in on one side. Small green plants Chen has no name for peeking through the cracks in the wood.

It's so run-down, it’s likely that nobody has used it for years. If only it weren't so far away: it would be extremely undignified- but not impossible -for him to make his way across the sand. And of course he would have to hold his breath the entire time.

He thinks he'll be content to just stay here and stare dreamily for a little longer. Fantasising about the feel of sand grains between his toes. Then he'll go back home and see whether anyone missed him, or even noticed he'd gone.

A clattering sound which resonates from inside the shack makes him jump and cling tightly to the slippery rock beneath him, heart palpitation like a wild thing. He nearly turns and sprints away, not caring about the damage the rocks might do to him in the panic, but the rational side of his brain manages to convince himself to stay. This could be the biggest chance of his life!

He struggles to keep his tail from thrashing around in the shallow water, and making a noise that could attract attention, as he anxiously anticipates whatever is going to emerge from the shack. A land animal, perhaps? He’s seen those flying creatures, birds, before. They can go above both land and ocean so it’s easy for him to watch them sometimes. But a land animal that can’t go in or over water, he’s never seen one with his own eyes before.

The door swings open, warm yellow light appears, and spills like the ocean itself onto the ground outside. Chen ducks down behind the rock as best he can to hide from view, so when he hears the heavy sounds of footsteps in the soft beach terrain he gasps involuntarily.

There’s something there! A human?

He leans around the side a little bit, but he can’t see anything. After what feels like a long and torturously frustrating period of this, Chen huffs and –frowning terribly- slithers like an eel between the gaps to get a better look. He ignores how the sharper stones cut into his flesh, wincing when they graze his scales noisily.

There, now he has a clear, or clearer, view of this magnificent creature. He can’t tell whether it’s a boy or a girl or not – he doesn’t know what to look for on a human- but it’s definitely a human. He watches it stroll further away from him, occasionally tossing something into the water.

Chen’s eyes are glued to its feet, its swaying casual gait as it meanders back down again. It’s covered partially by a sort of sewn together cloak thing, and some strange looking tube things that go over about half of his legs, revealing a bendy bit just beneath the edge. Its knee, he realises. Attached to its feet are flat things Chen hasn’t ever seen before.

Chen is breathless with elated nerves, and he covers his mouth to avoid making any sounds that might give him away. He can’t believe it! He’s going to be in so much trouble when he returns, but it’s all going to be so worth it.

He’s within reaching distance of a species he’d thought to be impossible to contact. Chen doesn’t understand why it’s forbidden to be seen by this creature. He doesn’t look particularly harmful, and now that it’s facing towards him. It has a rounded (compared to Chen’s own,) serene looking face, but it doesn’t look shiny at all; where are his gills? No scales?

He looks so strange, but also intriguing.

Chen touches his neck, the slits in his tough pale skin that allow him to breath. It’s weird to think that humans don’t have these. It’s uncomfortable having to have them right now, it would be so much more convenient to have lungs the same as a human.

The magnificent creature in front of him produces a buzzing sound but for the life of him, Chen cannot figure out how. His mouth is not open, like a merperson’s would be if they were singing, but it sounds like the same sort of thing, if rougher. Drier.

It’s fairly pleasant actually, and it makes Chen want to join in. He likes singing, but there is no use of such a talent in the palace, so it goes by unused for great lengths of time. Suddenly, the cadence of the sound changes, and so too the texture. The creature is making different sounds, sounds he doesn’t know. They feel familiar, but Chen cannot make heads or tails of them.

He will need to study up on this, in the palace library. It had never occurred to him that humans might have different words to him. In fact, a lot of things about this sighting have instilled revelations in Chen.

Chen watches the creature rapturously, paying close attention to the way it moves its lips, and he wonders if he could make sounds like that, those flowing, rolling, tumbling words. Chen takes in the stringy anemone of fluff on the human’s head; is that what hair looks like without water? He wants to touch it, to see if it feels the same.

The singing human tapers off, and pushes its face into its hands. This image strikes a chord in Chen. It’s sad. Chen’s magnificent creature is sad, and he can’t do anything about it. The human drags one hand through his tuft, and Chan is fascinated by the way it flops between his fingers, despite his caring nature.

Then he lies back on a piece of pliable looking material that Chen hadn’t noticed until now, and covers his eyes with his forearms. Its chest rises up and down in a way Chen assumes is relaxed.

His human stays that way for a long time, the sky cycling through sweet oranges and pinks, to royal purples and blues that could rival his father’s tail. A smattering of stars twinkle gently, the moon dances in her reflection upon the ocean’s surface and Chen’s stomach is complaining both of hunger and discomfort.

He’s been lying in the same place for a long time now, and if his family didn’t notice he was gone earlier, they surely will have by now.

He regretfully wishes that this human will hurry up and go inside, so he can get out of this uncomfortable position and go home to get something to eat. He’ll come back another day very soon, he reasons, so it’s not like he’ll miss him that much.

But wait? What if this human never comes back again? What if he’s just passing through, and this is just a nice place to spend a short period of time? He frowns.

His human makes a noise, a bad one this time, arching its back off the ground and reaching its arms above its head. It gets up, with difficulty, the groans –punctuated by the occasional hissed syllable- play as a soundtrack to his troubles.

It limps back into the little shack, and with another harsh sounding word, it slams the door behind him, the whole building quaking in its wake. Chen sags in relief, his body strumming with tension. He’d been worried he’d be stranded here, with no way of return and then eventually being found by this creature, this human.

His muscles scream in protest as he moves them for the first time in far too long. With a grunt, he manages to haul himself over the rocks and into the shallow water of the shoreline. Its embarrassing how much flailing he has to do to get into deeper water- he hasn’t had to exert so much effort to move since he was very little. At least no one is here to see him.

The moment he thinks that, he remembers that humans have ears, and can probably hear all the plashing he’s making. This propels him forward faster, needing desperately to get away from this place before he is caught. The water catches in his gills in his haste, and his insides burn from the effort.

Finally he’s in water deep enough to swim in, the currents billowing around him like old friends as he pulses forwards, convincing himself that he didn’t hear that creaky door open behind him. That it was just his imagination.

When he is calm again, he focuses primarily on getting home before his parents pluck off his scales. It is then that it occurs to him how far he has to travel to get there. He sighs; he’s in for a lot of discipline when he returns home.

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ok me and my beta are slowly working on the next part so if you liked this please comment and ill try to get on it faster just...exams D: