Kaelen had eventually taken Aria back to the cave – their temporary home. She shivered as she climbed onto the familiar, jagged rock ledge. The chill in the air wasn't the only reason her body trembled; the thought of the ritual haunted her, its implications far worse than anything she had imagined. Kaelen's words from a few days ago echoed in her mind. He had spoken casually about her learning to breathe underwater and becoming like him, as if it were an inevitability, not a choice. At the time, she'd dismissed it as fanciful nonsense. But now, with the mention of the ritual, a terrifying realisation struck her: he wanted her to become a mermaid.

A cold sweat broke out across her skin. Becoming a mermaid would mean severing all ties to her old life. No family. No friends. No surface world. She would be bound to Kaelen and this underwater realm forever. There was no going back from such a transformation. At least that's what she assumed. Nothing would stop her from trying to find a way to reverse it.

Her gaze darted to Kaelen, who swam lazy circles at the entrance of the cave, a content smile playing on his lips. He never strayed too far, keeping her within his line of sight. She knew she should feel relieved that he was in such a good mood. When Kaelen was happy, he was talkative and gentle, almost boyish in his excitement. But the memory of his sharp teeth sinking into her neck lingered, a stark reminder of his other side – the dangerous, possessive predator who would punish her without hesitation. Her hand trembled as it brushed the wound, now crusted over but still tender. She really needed to clean it, but only once he was gone and left her alone.

Kaelen's voice broke through her thoughts. "My parents absolutely love you, Alaria! Can you believe it? They think you're perfect! This is just the first step for us. Soon, I'll build us a home in Neridia, and you'll have friends of your own. Sepiia could introduce you to the other ladies if you wish. You'll see; you'll love it here."

He spoke with such enthusiasm, his glowing blue eyes alight with dreams of a future she wanted no part of. Aria barely listened, nodding absently as her mind raced. Her silence didn't seem to faze him; he continued rambling, lost in his own world. She didn't want to shatter his happiness, but she couldn't ignore the dread curling in her stomach. If she didn't act, if she didn't say something, he would go through with it. She had to know for certain what he planned.

"Kaelen?" Her voice came out softer than she intended, barely audible over the lapping waves. Yet it was enough to make him stop mid-sentence. He turned to her, his head tilting slightly, his expression one of mild curiosity and amusement. For a moment, she regretted speaking, her heart pounding as she debated whether to continue. But his patient gaze didn't waver, and she forced herself to push through the fear.

"Your mother," she began hesitantly, her fingers twisting in her lap. "She mentioned a ritual. What is it?"

Kaelen's face lit up with excitement, and he swam closer, his tail flicking gracefully behind him. "Oh, Celestara Alaria, I was hoping you'd ask! It's perfect – absolutely perfect." His enthusiasm was almost childlike, and for a moment, she wondered if he even understood the gravity of what he was saying. "The ritual will make you one of us. A true daughter of the sea. You'll be able to swim like me, breathe underwater, and live here forever. Isn't that wonderful?"

Her stomach dropped. The words confirmed her worst fears. She swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she replied. "You mean... I'd become a mermaid?"

"Exactly!" he exclaimed, his smile broadening. "It's everything you've ever wanted – freedom, beauty, a life without limits. You'll finally belong here, Alaria. We can be together forever."

Anger surged within her and for a moment Aria truly wanted to explode. Her hands clenched into fists. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "Kaelen, that's not what I want. My place is on land. I have a family, a life up there. I can't just give all that up."

His expression faltered, confusion clouding his features. "But your family doesn't appreciate you," he argued, his tone softening. "They don't understand you the way I do. I've seen the way you light up underwater. You belong here, Aria. With me." He had to be joking. She didn't 'light up' when she was underwater. She felt miserable surrounded by the cold dark waters. It was true she marveled at the underwater city of Neridia, and she loved observing the natural bioluminescent glow which covers the city. But she did not wish to live there. Not one bit.

"Kaelen, stop," she said firmly, her voice gaining strength. "This isn't about belonging. This is about choice. And I choose to stay human. I can't... I won't let you take that away from me."

His tail flicked sharply, a sign of his growing agitation. "Why are you being so stubborn?" he demanded, his tone tinged with frustration. "I'm offering you everything! A chance to escape that cruel, shallow world. To be loved, cherished, protected. Why would you throw that away?"

Aria stood, her legs shaky but resolute. "Because it's not your decision to make," she said, her voice steady despite the fear bubbling inside her. "You don't get to decide my future. This is my life, Kaelen."

His glowing eyes darkened, the playful light in them extinguished. For a moment, he looked genuinely hurt, his expression a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. But the hurt quickly morphed into anger, his jaw tightening as he swam closer, his presence overwhelming.

"You're wrong," he said coldly. "You don't understand what's at stake. That world is dangerous, Alaria. The surface is dangerous. You're safer here, with me. The ritual isn't just about us; it's about keeping you alive."

"No," she snapped, her fear giving way to frustration. "This is about control. You don't care what I want. You just want me to fit into your perfect little fantasy. Well, I'm not going to be your puppet, Kaelen. And for gods sake; my name is Aria!"

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged. Kaelen's tail stilled, his body rigid as he stared at her, unblinking. For a moment, she thought he might lash out, his anger palpable. But instead, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself.

"Fine," he said finally, his voice dangerously calm. "I'll delay the ritual. For now. But don't think this is over, Alaria. You'll see reason eventually."

Her heart pounded as she watched him retreat to the water's edge, his movements tense and deliberate. She wanted to feel relief, but his words felt more like a threat than a concession. The fight wasn't over, not by a long shot.

As he disappeared into the depths, Aria sank to her knees, the weight of the confrontation crashing down on her. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had stood her ground, but at what cost? Kaelen's obsession wasn't just dangerous; it was suffocating. And if she didn't find a way to escape soon, she feared she might lose herself entirely. Both mentally and physically. This was not what she wanted but what choice did she have. This was cruel. A cruel and terrible hand fate had dealt her.

Her mind drifted back to the day before her capture. She had hated the hike. The endless, uneven trail had grated on her nerves, the buzzing of insects a constant irritant. She remembered snapping at her brother when he laughed at her clumsiness, scolding the twins for racing ahead on the rocky path. At the time, it had all seemed unbearable. But now, sitting in the cold, dark cave with her knees pulled to her chest, she longed for it.

She could almost feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, see the twins laughing as they darted ahead, and hear her parents' voices calling for her to be careful. A sad smile flickered across her lips as she imagined their faces, but the image wavered, becoming indistinct and blurry.

Her parents were calling her name—Alaria.

The realization struck her like a blow. Even in her daydreams, Kaelen's name for her had crept in, displacing her own. Her chest tightened as she tried to replay the memory, forcing herself to hear Aria instead. But it was difficult. Too difficult.

And it wasn't just her name. She noticed now how she had imagined them speaking Neridian instead of her native language. The words had felt natural, automatic. It shouldn't have surprised her—she had been forced to learn the language and had spoken nothing else for what felt like an eternity. But the ease with which it came to her now was unsettling. She rubbed her temples as if she could physically push the foreign words away.

How long had she been down here? Weeks? Months? A year?

She closed her eyes, trying to summon her parents' voices again. What would they be saying now? She could almost hear her mother's anxious tone, the frantic determination in her father's voice as they demanded answers from search parties or pleaded with authorities to keep looking for her.

But what if they had stopped looking?

The thought lodged itself in her mind, sharp and unrelenting. Her family's faces felt more like sketches than memories now, the edges smudged and uncertain. Did her mother still wear that delicate necklace Aria had made for her birthday? Had her father's beard grown grayer in her absence? Did the twins still argue over who got the front seat in the car, or had they grown quieter without her to referee?

Her identity felt like it was unraveling, thread by thread. Who was she now, really? The daughter who could barely remember her parents' laughter, or the reluctant captive who spoke fluent Neridian and responded to Alaria without hesitation?

Loneliness settled heavily over her, its weight crushing. Her mind whispered questions she couldn't answer: Had her family moved on? Did her absence leave a void, or had it simply become a quiet shadow they had learned to live with?

For a brief moment, she wished Kaelen hadn't left. The thought came unbidden, sharp and unwelcome. At least when he was there, she wasn't alone with her spiraling thoughts. But that wish dissolved as quickly as it had surfaced, extinguished by the memory of his glowing eyes and sharp teeth. He would transform her if given the chance, no matter her protests.

She curled into a corner, ignoring the ache in her neck from his earlier bite. She'd clean it later, if it even mattered. Right now, she couldn't bring herself to care. Her mind was too tangled with memories and fears, too consumed by the slow, creeping dread that she was losing herself.