Black sea

I once tore out a heart.

But that doesn’t count, because I ate it. And I was not yet eighteen. I was still just a little sprout from the sea. Freshly drowned, newly born, but definitely hungry.

But that’s in the past. Buried at the bottom of the sea like the poor devil whose chest I pierced open that one time.

My little secret.

That would definitely give me the edge this year.

“Slow down, will you?”

Ilayda swims behind me, her light-steel-blue tail flapping like a desperate baby whale’s.

Just for fun, I speed up a little more.

“Keep up!”

“Not fair! You’re older!”

Instead of insulting me, her remark makes me smile as wide as the Black Sea.

I am older.

Which means that now I can go anywhere I want on sea. I can hunt on my own. I can kill a sailor with the sound of my voice.

I just need to steal another heart first.

“Nerissa!”

I dive, flowing with salt water and dodging craggy reefs bathed in moonlight. I feel the tugs where my skin turns into shimmering scales with the increased speed, but nothing can stop me and no one can catch me.

I make a looping turn that connects the tip of my pearl-white tail to my head and finally stop to duck through the coral and wait for my little victim to catch up.

Ilayda swims slowly. Defeated and oblivious to my presence.

I follow behind her like a shark, before pouncing on her and reveling in the size of her pupils as she turns around the moment our bodies land against the cold sand.

“Nerissa!” she nags me, unable to entirely avoid the smile peeking through the corner of her thin lips.

“Scared?”

“More like fed up. You should stop doing that to me. You’ll have plenty of time to stalk your prey when the sun comes up.”

My arms draw an angelfish on the sand as I stretch them sideways. “That will be on land. I’ll have legs and it won’t be so easy to stalk the prince with that handicap.”

She’s suddenly silent. When I turn to look at her, she’s lying facing up, watching the mantas go about their day near the surface, her hair flowing among invisible waves.

“I don’t think you should go for the prince,” she whispers.

“Why not?”

She’s so lost in her thoughts it’s difficult to see her clear eyes. “If you kill him, we’ll be more out there than ever.”

I scoff. “We’re already out there. And every day he takes it upon himself to kill each and every one of us.”

It was true. Ilayda knew that just as much as everybody else.

As we began to feast on the poor, lost sailors closer to the Black Sea and even more on those departing from Marevorn’s harbor, the prince began to hunt us down like fish. Trapping us in nets, piercing us with spears. Hanging us on cliffs as cruel warnings.

All of you are next.

“I don’t think you understand.”

Bubbles make my blood thick, my voice chocked. “No. I think the one who doesn’t understand is you. You’re too soft.”

“And you’re too reckless. One day that’s going to hit you on the face.”

It’s like getting a sting from a flower urchin, sharp and unexpected, but somehow worse coming from Ilayda. Her usual calm makes the pain sink deeper. The sea around us seems to hold its breath, silent as I wait for her to say something more—maybe even an apology. But I know her too well. Beneath that calm exterior, she’s as stubborn as the tides.

“We should hurry.” She pushes herself off the sand, swimming rigidly ahead. “We don’t want you to be late for the ceremony.”

I sigh, watching Ilayda glide off, her movements stiff. The water around me pulses with the thrum of distant life—fish darting through reefs, crabs scuttling across the seabed. The moonlight casts everything in shades of blue and silver, turning even the sharp edges of coral into something soft, dreamlike. But her words cling to me like a tangle of seaweed around my tail.

Reckless. It’ll hit you one day.

Ilayda has always been cautious, even as a hatchling. She avoided danger with the grace of a jellyfish floating with the currents, while I preferred to swim against them, to feel the thrill of danger tugging at my tail. It’s what makes me stronger. She doesn’t get that.

The ceremony is a couple hours far, and it’s all I can think about. It’s not just some ritual—it’s a passage into something greater. We’ve all heard the stories of those who ascended before us. The power that surges through them once they’ve taken a heart. The change it brings.

And I am ready.

I push off the ocean floor, speeding ahead to catch up with her. My body moves effortlessly, cutting through the water like a blade. As I approach, Ilayda’s tense shoulders relax slightly, but her eyes stay fixed ahead.

“Just be careful.”

“I will,” I say softly, my voice a mere ripple in the water. “After the ceremony, everything will change.”

Ilayda doesn’t respond to that. We swim in silence, the world around us quiet save for the distant hum of the sea. The coral forests we pass grow thicker. Tiny creatures flicker in and out of sight, their bioluminescent bodies glowing like stars in the deep. Sea people approach from the east and some more from the west, all of us swimming towards the same place. I catch a glimpse of Koren. Her tail shinning coral pink and her ego so big I can see it on her sharp teeth. Her smile grows when she catches me staring.

I scoff, flipping my tail in a dismissive swirl.

The towering pillars of the sunken kingdom loom ahead, their ancient stone walls covered in glowing algae and barnacles. Reefs cover the most of it, hiding us from plain sight and keeping us safe from any wondering threat.

The currents seem to shift as we near it, as if the sea itself knows what’s about to happen. At the center of the room sits the High Queen, Lainalei, her tail long and serpentine, glistening with a silver sheen that catches every bit of light. Her eyes, pale and clouded with the weight of centuries, scan the gathering crowd. She doesn’t need to speak for us to feel her presence—she is the sea embodied, old as the tides, fierce as a hurricane, beautiful as the starry skies.

Ilayda hesitates beside me, her hand reaching out to grab mine, but the ocean pushes her away. She knows, and the ocean knows, it’s not her time yet.

“Don’t,” I whisper.

She bites her lip, but nods, her hand dropping back to her side.

We chosen swim forward. The others stay behind, admiring what their future looks like from afar.

The High Queen raises her arms, and the water stills, the entire ocean listening. Her voice is a deep resonance, echoing through the castle, touching every soul present.

“Tonight,” she says, her voice rippling through the sea, “marks the turning of the tides. Those who have proven their strength, their cunning, and their loyalty to the sea, shall ascend. But to ascend, you must take. To take, you must hunt.”

Her eyes settle on me, and I feel the weight of her gaze like the crushing depths. My heart pounds against my ribs, not out of fear, but anticipation. The ceremony isn’t just a test—it’s a promise.

A promise of power. Of freedom.

“You know what is required of you,” the High Queen continues. “The land-dwellers have forgotten their place. They have taken from the sea for too long, and now the sea takes back. Before the first sunrise of iced winter, each of you will claim a heart, and with it, you will claim your place among us.”

A ripple of excitement moves through the crowd, but I stand still, my focus razor-sharp. The prince. His heart will be mine.

“You look sure of yourself.” Koren says before I can notice she’s swam by my side.

“I am.”

Her eyes sparkle with moon and amusement. “Should we make this more fun? I know you’re targeting the prince. Let’s have a bet.”

“I’m not betting with you. We can’t hunt each other’s prey. He’s mine.”

“Not strictly a written rule.” Her hand makes a dismissive move. “Let’s see who gets his heart first. The winner gets the glory. The loser… well, you know what happens.”

I look at her in awe. “You wouldn’t risk it.”

“I’m not risking anything, little squid. Are you in?” Her pink eyebrow lifts. “Or are you afraid?”

I open my mouth to protest, but the High Queen’s voice cuts through the water again, signaling the start of the hunt. The ceremony has begun.

“Good luck not drowning.”

It’s the last thing I hear before the ocean explodes inside my ears.

Heat sears through my tail. Like the sun breaking through the depths, it turns into a searing pain, burning sharper and hotter than anything I’ve ever felt in the icy embrace of the ocean. My scales begin to shimmer violently, as if the light itself is peeling them away one by one.

I double over, clutching at my tail as it convulses. The burning worsens, and I can feel it—feel my flesh tearing apart, splitting right down the middle as if being ripped in two. My tail, once sleek and powerful, shudders violently before slowly, agonizingly, cleaving into two grotesque shapes.

Legs. Human legs.

I gasp, but the sea offers no comfort. My lungs constrict, a crushing force, like the deep pressure of the darkest abyss squeezing me from the inside. I can’t breathe. The water, once a part of me, now feels alien and suffocating as my gills close tight, sealing themselves as if in protest. I clutch at my throat, panic rising like the deep darkness.

Ilayda. She has to help me. Help me. Or I’ll die.

I kick—or at least I try to—but the new limbs feel foreign and weak, useless in the water where my tail once ruled. The water no longer cradles me; it presses against me, rejecting me. I try to scream, but only bubbles escape my lips. My chest tightens further, my body instinctively rejecting the water as my lungs scream for air, for release.

I thrash, desperate now, as the weight of the sea becomes unbearable. My hands claw at the water, pulling me upward, my vision blurring as dark spots begin to dance in my periphery.

I’m dying.

But then—finally—my head breaks through the surface.

I gulp in air, the sensation both euphoric and overwhelming as it floods my lungs. My body heaves with the effort, gasping, choking, but alive. I lay there, floating at the pink and orange surface, trembling as my heart races, the pain slowly fading from my legs but lingering in the pit of my chest.

I’ve made it. I’m on land—or at least, I have the legs for it now.

I look down at my new limbs, now kicking lightly beneath the waves. I feel a strange mix of triumph and dread. They’re human, delicate, vulnerable. And yet, they’re what I need.

The price for the hunt. For the prince’s heart.

With one last deep breath, I push myself toward the shore, knowing that the clock has started ticking.