They had covered her tank again.
A heavy velvet cloth draped over the glass, plunging her into darkness and shutting out whatever lay beyond it. Neria couldn’t see where they were taking her, but she could feel every movement. Rough hands grunted as they lifted the tank, the water sloshing violently around her until she was forced to grab onto the chains around her wrists to steady herself.
Every ache in her body reminded her of the sea. The screams, the blood.
Nerissa.....
The memory refused to leave her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her sister’s body sinking into the endless blue, a crimson trail disappearing into the depths while she was dragged helplessly toward the surface.
Nerissa was dead.
Her pod was gone.
She was alone.
A sob caught in her throat before she could stop it. Tears blurred her vision, disappearing into the water before she could even feel them fall. She wanted to scream until her voice gave out. She wanted to Neptune to turn back time, to let her save her sister, to wake her from this nightmare.
But gods did not answer the cries of Calypsos.
The carriage lurched violently, throwing her against the side of the tank. Glass rattled around her as the wheels struck something uneven.
"Damn these roads," a man muttered from outside.
The carriage slowed before finally coming to a stop.
Moments later, the cloth covering her prison was pulled away. Sunlight spilled through the glass, forcing Neria to shield her eyes. It took a moment for her vision to adjust, and when it did, her heart lurched.
She knew that face.
One of the hunters.
His armor was gone now, replaced by simple travelling clothes, but she would never forget the cruel amusement in his eyes.
He leaned against the tank, looking her over with an expression that made her stomach twist. "This one’s prettier up close," he mused.
His companion laughed. "Careful. That’s the Grand Duke’s new prize."
"A shame," the first hunter said with a grin. "Would’ve fetched a fortune if the Emperor hadn’t claimed her first."
Their eyes wandered over her as though she weren’t even there. Like she was some rare exotic livestock.
Neria instinctively shrank toward the back of the tank, wrapping her arms around herself as far as the chains allowed.
The hunters laughed harder.
"See that?" one of them said. "It’s scared."
Neria’s hands curled into trembling fists.
She hated them.
She hated every landwalker who had looked upon her people and saw game instead of life.
One day...
One day, she would make them drown. One day she’ll rip that smile off his face and hunt them down the same way they did to her and her people.
Some time passed before she felt the tank move again.
Voices drifted in from outside as the men carrying her strained beneath the weight. She heard grunts while the water around her sloshed violently from side to side.
"No, not there," a firm voice instructed. "A little more to the left... that’s it."
The tank was lowered carefully onto solid ground.
A moment later, the heavy velvet covering was lifted away.
Neria blinked against the sudden light.
She wasn’t in another grand hall.
This room was...different.
Tall shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, packed with books she couldn’t read. Maps were rolled neatly into leather tubes, and a large desk stood near the windows beneath piles of parchment and documents. A fire crackled quietly in the hearth, warming the room despite the chill of the water inside her prison.
Several landwalkers wearing similar clothes stood nearby, openly gawking at her in awe, like something rare they had never seen before.
The two hunters who had escorted her stepped toward an elderly man whose silver hair was tied neatly behind his head. His back remained perfectly straight despite his age, and his expression never changed as he inspected the placement of the tank.
"You’ll need to replace the water every few days," the lanky hunter said, dusting off his hands. "The Emperor said she’s to remain healthy."
The old man gave a single nod. "We are aware." His voice was calm, clipped, and left little room for conversation.
"If that’s all, you may leave."
The hunters exchanged a glance before shrugging. Neither seemed eager to linger.
Once the door shut behind them, silence settled over the study.
Neria stayed where she was, pressed against the curved glass, watching every face around her.
A pair of young girls edged closer, whispering to one another.
"She’s beautiful," one breathed.
"Do you think she understands us?" the other whispered back.
"I wonder if mermaids can speak."
Before either of them could move any closer, Neria bared her teeth and let out a sharp, warning hiss.
Both girls stumbled back with startled yelps.
At the same instant, the enchanted collar around her neck flared to life.
Pain ripped through her body.
It felt as though molten fire had been poured into her veins. Her muscles seized, her tail thrashed violently against the glass, and the water around her erupted into frantic waves before the magic finally released her.
Neria gasped, clutching at the collar as another tremor ran through her body.
The room fell deathly silent.
One of the maids covered her mouth in horror.
"...what was that?" she whispered.
The elderly man’s expression darkened as he looked at the collar around Neria’s neck, but before anyone could speak, the heavy doors behind them opened.
"Out! All of you!" The words cut through the room like a blade.
Neria’s gaze snapped toward the man standing in the doorway. She immediately recognized him as the Grand Duke from that party.
His amber eyes swept across the room, cold and unreadable. Shoulder-length brown hair framed his face, though a few loose strands had escaped whatever attempt had been made to tie it back. His jaw was tight, and there was a frustration about him that hung heavier than the silence filling the study.
No one questioned the order.
The servants hurried out, heads lowered as they slipped past him. Only the elderly man remained, standing as straight as before with his hands clasped neatly behind his back.
The Duke didn’t even look at Neria.
"Cover the tank, Hartley."
"Yes, Your Grace." The old man stepped forward and drew the heavy velvet curtains back around the glass.
Darkness swallowed her once again.
The door clicked shut and for a moment their room was silent.
Then—
Glass shattered.
Neria jerked violently, pressing herself against the back of the tank.
Something heavy crashed onto the floor.
Another sharp crack echoed through the room, followed by the scrape of furniture being shoved across polished wood. Books hit the ground one after another, and somewhere nearby, a chair splintered beneath a forceful kick.
Neria wrapped her arms around herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm the racing of her heart.
"Master," Hartley’s calm voice broke through the chaos. "This changes nothing."
"It changes everything," Darian growled, his voice low enough that she almost didn’t catch it. "He butchered an entire pod to send me a damned gift."
"Butchered the entire pod...?" Her eyes began to sting again as she repeated his words quietly.
So her pod was truly gone? Had no one survived?
"He did this to humiliate me," the Duke muttered, his voice tight with restrained anger. "He knew exactly what he was doing."
The two continued speaking, their voices dropping until she could no longer make out the words.
Then, just before silence claimed the room, she heard him say. "...keep the collar on her."
Neria’s hands instinctively flew to the iron band around her neck. The burning from moments ago still lingered beneath her skin.
A bitter laugh escaped her.
Just another landwalker.
Just another monster.