Page 6 of In Violent Waves

Lyra swam forward and turned a devilish grin back at them. Marina followed Lyra everywhere, and Seraphina, though not as close, was never far behind.

“Let’s see where this takes us.”

Their swim through the kelp forest was a quick one.

Tall, turbid green spires rose high above their heads, undulating in the current. The water turned cold; the bite was refreshing against the heat building in their veins.

Excitement burned through them, the promise of adventure beckoning from the stairs that rose out of the seabed, along the cliffside, and to the surface. The craggy stone was pockmarked and ancient by the look of it.

“We take the vial at the foot of the stairs. By the time we reach the surface, we’ll be human-ish.” Lyra reiterated the instructions they had been told repeatedly over the last twenty-one years.

Amber the vial,

drink at the foot.

Fare thee well, fins,

welcome your sins.

With a wicked grin, they uncorked their vials and threw back the jelly-textured liquid inside. Linking arms, they began their ascent. Nothing felt different at first, but after the first ten steps, Lyra noticed a change. Her scales began prickling, the familiar brush of the water more like the sting of a cut.

Then she felt the weight of it all. Her hair against her scalp, the heft of their arms against hers, and the suffocation of not being able to breathe.

But nothing compared to the slicing of one fin into two legs. So severe, it felt like she was being ripped in half.

In the blink of an eye, with a searing flash of golden light and a gasping breath, they breached the surface and stood on solid ground. It had happened so fast that her head spun and stars danced in her eyes.

It felt strange, heavy almost, but also light.

The air was not oppressive like the water had been. The water now lapped at the stairs below them. She missed its touch.

“Ennosidas’ fins,” she ground out between clenched teeth.

Marina pushed a hand against the riot of curls that fell onto her face. “What is this?”

Seraphina trilled a laugh. “This is life without water. Things sink up here.”

They took the remaining steps at a much slower pace, getting accustomed to moving their feet one after the other. With each step, Lyra felt the jostle through her bones. A thousand needles stabbing into the bottom of her fins—feet.

By the time they reached the top of the stairs of the small cliff, they looked positively abysmal—human, even. Their ethereal nature was subdued.

Viciously sharp teeth were replaced with blunt edges. Pointed fingernails filed to short stubs. And the attire was the worst of all.

“Humans wear this?” Lyra plucked at the yards of fabric clinging to her body.

Layers of skirts and a breath-stealing corset. The only good it had done was to push up the small mounds of her breasts.

“How do they walk in all this?” Marina complained while trying her best to push her ample breasts down from her chin.

Seraphina twirled, her skirts fluttering around her lithe body. A hint of her otherworldly grace was visible under the white light. “Well, I love it.”

The light stole Lyra’s attention. The moon was a giant orb of silver as it shone down on them, and she closed her eyes, basking in its glow. It was as bewitching as she had read it would be.

“Where are we?” Marina asked.

The town was of varying shades of gray. Strums of music floated down the cobblestone street, piquing Lyra’s interest. But it was the air and the moon in the sky that kept tugging on her attention. To see it all in the flesh was overwhelming.

Something stirred within her at the sight of such awe-inspiring beauty. Her lungs filled effortlessly with air, and the feel of the breeze against her skin had her inhaling a large lungful. Reveling in its tender caress.