Kaya looked down at her own hands, flexing her fingers slowly, as if expecting to see webbing or sothing just as weird. But they looked the sa. Normal.
She clicked her tongue.
"It’s probably because of that weird herb they gave ," she muttered. "Maybe it boosted my strength or sothing."
But even as she said it, her eyes flickered uncertainly.
That wasn’t just strength.
That was sothing else entirely.
Still, she waved it off, voice firm. "That’s all. Nothing big."
Vayu didn’t argue—but he didn’t look convinced, either.
And for the first ti, neither was Kaya.
Kaya had once heard an old saying: When trouble cos, ti flies like an arrow.
Now, standing in the middle of a cave that slled like wet rocks and raw snail, she could confirm—whoever said that wasn’t lying.
The entire day had passed in a blur. How? She didn’t even know. One mont she was pushing snail at away and ignoring the sparrow, the next, the light outside the water had changed. The ocean had dimd slightly, like it was holding its breath.
And the next morning?
She was supposed to fight sharks.
Fight. Not run from, not hide from.
Fight.
Kaya’s mind churned. Sure, she had the herb pouch slung around her like so magical safety net, and yeah, Vayu had said sothing vague about it protecting her... but he’d been acting weird. Distant. Like he knew more than he was saying. And Kaya had never liked depending on "maybes."
She was many things. Reckless wasn’t one of them.
So she did what she always did when the stakes got real—she started building a Plan B. Then a Plan C. She didn’t care if she had to go all the way to Plan Z.
She had no intention of becoming shark food.
Her eyes flicked sideways at Vayu. He was still watching her—too quiet, too thoughtful. Like soone who’d seen the storm before it hit but chose to stay silent.
She didn’t press. Not yet.
Instead, after a long beat of silence, Kaya turned her head forward—only to find him again.
The little lord.
Standing there like a pop-up notification in real life. Sa arrogant stance. Sa pouty lips. And worst of all—
Sa. Damn. Food.
He held the tray like it was a priceless offering instead of a health hazard, proudly presenting the soggy seaweed, sad-looking cucumbers, and that sa offending lump of raw snail at that looked even more disgusting the second ti around.
Kaya blinked slowly, deadpan. "Seriously?"
The little lord sniffed, chin raised. "This is a traditional offering."
"Yeah, well..." Kaya crossed her arms, "so is a funeral. Which you’ll need if you serve this one more ti."
But even as she spoke, her brain didn’t stop ticking.
Suddenly, a flicker of inspiration crept into Kaya’s mind, curling into a fully-ford idea like smoke filling a quiet room.
Her lips parted into a wide, radiant smile.
The little lord stiffened. A chill ran down his spine, and all his finned instincts scread danger. Why the hell is she smiling? Land won only smiled like that when they were about to steal your dignity—or your tail.
But before he could step back, Kaya was already moving.
With casual grace, she stepped forward and slung an arm around his shoulder—too friendly, too calm.
"Well, well, mister-," she said sweetly. "little...fish."
His eye twitched.
"It’s Little Lord," he corrected, glaring at her.
"Right, right," Kaya nodded, her smile never wavering. "Little Lord. Or whatever."
He opened his mouth to snap again, but she cut in smoothly.
"So—how about this? Why don’t you show your gracious ocean? You know... your tribe’s area. Where you live, where your people dwell. I an, who knows?" she added, her tone shifting just enough to sound dramatic, "I may die today... or tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be a sha if I never got to see this heaven-like place you keep bragging about?"
The little lord straightened, nose in the air so high it might as well have had its own current. A smug smile blood across his face, his chest puffed with pride.
"Of course," he said, practically preening. "What would a land creature like you even understand? This ocean—my ocean—is divine. A masterpiece of nature. Full of mystery, wonder, elegance—none of that dry, sweaty land filth. No, no. Not like your cursed sun-baked sand piles and dry bones. It’s not hot, not cracked, not loud with dirt and dust. It’s pure. Unlike your damn land."
That word—damn—kept falling from his mouth like sea pebbles. Kaya’s eye twitched. Once, twice.
She was trying. She was really trying.
Her fingers itched. Her sarcasm begged to be released.
She wanted to shoot back, Oh yeah? And what ti is it here, huh? Midnight or noon? Can’t tell under your precious blue blanket, can you?
But no.
She needed him. His help, or at least his arrogance.
So she clenched her jaw, forced her smile to stay glued on, and thought to herself:
Let him climb a grass step and dance. Hell, let him build a staircase and do backflips. If that’s what it takes.
But while Kaya wore a smile sweet enough to charm an army, on the side, two silent witnesses were trembling.
Cutie , sparrow and Vayu stood frozen, eyes wide, shoulders stiff.
They weren’t trembling because of fear of the sharks, or the mysterious ocean, or even the raw snail at.
They were trembling... for the little lord.
Because they knew.
They’d seen this before.
They’d lived it.
The signs were all there—too calm, too composed, too kind. If Kaya was speaking to you softly, that wasn’t rcy.
That was a warning.
A countdown disguised as kindness.
And if she was speaking sweetly? If she leaned close, smiled with warmth in her voice and honey in her words?
Then it was already too late.
The target was chosen.
This unfortunate little rmaid was officially marked.
Vayu exhaled slowly through his nose and murmured under his breath, "Poor soul."
Cutie, the sparrow just lowered their head like soone offering a mont of silence.
Together, they stood like mourners watching a clueless victim walk straight into their doom—with seaweed in his hair and pride in his chest.
Unaware.
So gloriously unaware.
User Comments
0 comments from readers