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“I offer you then, Hero of Hytopia, for saving me from that ghastly curse, that you may find the shifting of your form to be firmly within your grasp. So too, for in restoring my glamour you have saved my life, may you have the option of an eternal life in a form most Fair of your own choosing. As you have undertaken this quest twice over, so I offer these two gifts. And for you, my second hero…”
The sea was dark in the early morning light, and Kirian could only barely make out Marin’s form. A great tentacle wrapped around her midsection, a mass of empty darkness deeper time and space; The same entity that had cracked their boat in half. His equipment was thrown astray, too far for him to think about in the face of rescuing Marin from the creature.
He couldn’t reach his flippers.
He couldn’t reach his mermaid suit.
He had only his sword, and the sea-beast’s limb was pulling Marin away faster than he could swim.
Desperately, Kirian reached for his gift from the queen of the Hytopian faerie court, for that spark of magic that lay dormant until needed. He found the magic, and wished upon it to copy the tail-suit’s transformation.
To gain the speed and maneuverability needed to be a true threat in this fight.
Most importantly, to save Marin.
The first gift could not grant his wish. The form was not his own brought on by some outside force. It was imposed by a magical tool he had collected. The gift could lend him finesse over the transformation while using the tool, but it could not reproduce it from thin water.
But the second gift. The second gift had been waiting for its turn. Legs warped together into a powerful tail. The skin below his chest darkened, fading from human skin to a silkie gray. Nails shifted into claws. Teeth and vision sharpened. Salty surf flowed through gills that hadn’t existed moments before. In seconds, Linkirian Oswald Zayac the ordinary man became a fae creature, became Linkirian Oswald Zayac the selkie.
With a few strokes of his new tail, he caught up to the beast and cut Marin free. He rushed her back towards the surface, cutting at the tentacles that the entity sent after him. He bought a few seconds to get her onto a broken chunk of hull, and then the thing was on him again and he cut and dodged and fought. Eventually he spotted his magic bag and snatched it out of the water, fending off another tendril that tried to drag them back down.
But he could clearly see that he was still losing this fight. The little spark of divine magic in the noble sword could fend off the creature’s tentacles for a few moments, but the injuries healed too quickly.
He couldn’t drive the creature away, not really.
So instead he ran.
He grabbed the debris Marin laid upon and he swam with all his might, swiping at any sign of the entity.
It wouldn’t take her.
He wouldn’t allow it.
Seconds blurred into moments into minutes. He couldn’t tell how much time passed, but he refused to stop until she was safe.
Finally, he felt the wood rock as he reached land. He forced it further up the shore, past the wave line, dragging himself up to check on her.
No water in her lungs, thank the goddess. Hell, thank Styla, without her gift they both would’ve died. He didn’t care how he knew. She was alive, albeit still unconscious.
Exhausted, he let himself collapse over her, clinging to her waist as sleep took him.