Morgan sat back in his chair, a smug grin playing on his lips as he tore into a thick cut of shark flesh. The delicacy was a specialty of the Onyx Kingdom, its tender meat rich and savory. He chewed slowly, savoring the flavor as he basked in his private satisfaction.

Across the table, Queen Ren watched him with a curious glint in her eye. One hand absently stroked the curve of her belly, her movements as graceful as ever despite her heavily pregnant state. "What's got you grinning like the Cheshire Cat?" she asked, her tone light with amusement.

Morgan paused, tilting his head. "What's a 'Cheshire Cat'?" he asked, his nose scrunching slightly in confusion.

Ren laughed softly, shaking her head. "A creature from an old human tale. It has this... unnervingly creepy smile that never leaves its face."

Morgan giggled quietly, leaning forward as if to share a secret. "Well, in that case," he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I suppose the comparison is fitting."

Ren arched a brow, her curiosity piqued. "Why's that?"

Morgan's grin widened, his sharp teeth gleaming as he leaned closer. "I added a little something extra to the potion I gave Jonas," he confessed, his voice low enough to be drowned out by the murmurs of the banquet around them.

Ren's eyes widened, her hand pausing mid-stroke over her belly. "What did you put in it?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with alarm.

Morgan's smirk deepened. He reached for his goblet, swirling the thick, dark liquid inside before taking a slow sip. "Oh, nothing too harmful," he said, feigning innocence. "Just a little... enhancement. A whisper, if you will, that calls out to a certain god."

Ren's lips parted in shock, her expression shifting rapidly between astonishment and disbelief. "Morgan," she said, her tone chastising but laced with fascination, "you meddling trickster. What are you hoping to achieve with this?"

Morgan set his goblet down, folding his hands neatly on the table. "By now," he said, his voice almost sing-song, "the final effects of the potion should be taking hold. Poor Jonas will begin to feel a... shift."

Ren shook her head, though a bemused smile tugged at her lips. "I'm curious to know what Ava will think of all this once she finds out," she said, her laughter quiet but genuine.

Morgan chuckled darkly, reclining in his chair with a contented sigh. "Oh, dear Ava," he mused. "She won't know what hit her. Poor Jonas doesn't even realize he's about to become the host of a god." His grin turned mischievous. "And not just any god. A tempestuous, primal force that craves chaos and passion. The fun is only just beginning."

Ren watched him for a moment, a glimmer of concern flickering in her hazel eyes. "You're playing a dangerous game, Morgan," she said, her voice soft but firm.

Morgan shrugged, unbothered. "Life's no fun without a little risk," he said breezily. "Besides, don't you think Jonas could use a little divine intervention? He'll thank me one day."

Ren sighed, leaning back in her chair and shaking her head. "You're incorrigible," she muttered, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "I just hope this doesn't end with Ava strangling you in front of the entire court."

Morgan laughed, the sound bright and carefree. "Oh, darling Ren," he said, raising his goblet in a mock toast. "What's life without a little drama?"

As he drank deeply, Ren couldn't help but wonder if Morgan's schemes would lead to something extraordinary—or catastrophic.

*******

Jonas sat alone on the edge of the balcony, his tail dangling over the side as he stared down at the glowing city below. The bioluminescent lights of the Onyx Kingdom stretched as far as he could see, shimmering like stars in the darkness of the ocean. It was breathtaking—an alien beauty that still felt surreal, even after all this time.

But his mind wasn't on the city.

It was on her.

Ava.

Her name echoed in his thoughts, and no matter how hard he tried to push it away, it always came back. She consumed him, filled every corner of his mind until he couldn't think of anything else.

Jonas ran a hand down his face, his frustration mounting. What the hell was he doing? He had no business getting tangled up in this. She was a queen, a ruler of a kingdom unlike anything he'd ever known. And he—he was just a human. A human spy that didn't even know this world existed until a few days ago. His life and hers were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

She's a mermaid, he reminded himself, his hand dropping to his side. And you're a human.

The thought should have grounded him, brought him back to reality. But instead, it only made the ache in his chest worse. Because the truth was, she wasn't just a mermaid. She was Ava—a queen, yes, but also a woman burdened by loss and loneliness, someone who carried the weight of an entire kingdom on her shoulders. And for reasons he couldn't fully understand, she had let him see glimpses of the person beneath the crown.

Jonas leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He thought of the way her hazel eyes had softened when she spoke to Roni, rare moments when her smile reached her eyes, brief flashes of warmth that made his chest tighten.

But he also thought of the barriers between them—the impossibility of it all. She wasn't just out of his league; she was out of his entire world.

He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of the balcony railing. The smooth stone was cold beneath his touch, a stark contrast to the warmth that filled him whenever she was near. What do you think you're doing, Jonas? he asked himself, his jaw tightening. This can't happen. It shouldn't happen.

And yet, it already had. He couldn't stop himself from wanting her, from thinking about the feel of her lips against his, the way her body had pressed against his in that fleeting, stolen moment. It wasn't just desire—though that was certainly part of it. It was more. She stirred something in him he hadn't felt in years: the need to protect, to be there for someone, to belong.

But how could he belong in her world?

Jonas exhaled sharply, his breath rippling through the water. He glanced down at his tail, the shimmering gold and red scales catching the light. It was temporary—an illusion created by Morgan's potion. As much as he hated to admit it, this wasn't him. He wasn't a merman. He was an outsider, a visitor in a place that wasn't meant for him.

He closed his eyes, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. Even if Ava felt the same way—and that was a big "if"—what then? What future could they possibly have? He couldn't stay here forever, and she couldn't leave her kingdom. They were bound by their worlds, by their responsibilities, by the very nature of who they were.

But when he thought of her—when he remembered the way she had looked at him, her eyes filled with something he couldn't quite name—those barriers seemed smaller. Not gone, but... surmountable.

And that terrified him.

Because he knew that if he let himself fall for her completely, there would be no going back. He'd risk everything—his mission, his career, even his humanity—just to be close to her. And that kind of vulnerability, that kind of recklessness, wasn't who he was supposed to be.

But then again, nothing about this situation was supposed to happen.

Jonas let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "What are you doing, man?" he muttered to himself. "You're setting yourself up for heartbreak."

Yet, even as he said it, he knew he wouldn't walk away. He couldn't. Because no matter how much it scared him, no matter how impossible it seemed, there was a part of him—a part he couldn't ignore—that wanted to try.

And that was the scariest thing of all.

*******

Roni sighed as he floated aimlessly around Ava's quarters. The ornate furnishings, the soft glow of the lighting, and the gentle sway of the water around him all felt suffocatingly familiar. He was bored. His fingers wandered over Ava's belongings, brushing against jeweled trinkets, delicate fabrics, and polished surfaces.

He paused in front of the mirror, catching his reflection. His delicate features stared back at him, framed by soft, flowing hair that shimmered faintly in the low light. The gold collar around his neck and the matching bracelets on his wrists gave him an air of refinement, though he couldn't help but think they made him look more feminine than regal.

The longer he stared, the harder it became to ignore the similarities between himself and Ava. The curve of his cheekbones, the shape of his eyes—there was something undeniably familiar. His heart tightened as the thought struck him again, unwelcome yet persistent.

"No, no," Roni muttered, shaking his head. "It's impossible." He turned away from the mirror, covering his cheeks with his hands as though he could physically block the thought from taking root. Ava couldn't be my mama, he told himself. She can't be.

But the doubt lingered.

For as long as he could remember, the urge to call Ava "Mother" had tugged at him. Yet, every time, the word got stuck in his throat, replaced by the safer, more distant "Ava." He didn't know his real parents, nor did he know who they were. Ava had told him once, in her usual curt tone, that they'd died in a plague. She never elaborated, and he'd learned not to press the matter.

Roni's fingers traced the chain of his collar as he sank into thought, the gleaming gold catching the light. He had grown up surrounded by riches, shielded and adored by Ava, watching the court from the shadows. He didn't mind being her ward, but sometimes, when the palace was quiet, he found himself questioning it all. Who was he, really? Would he always just be Ava's ward, a quiet observer of a world that wasn't truly his?

The spiral of thoughts made him squirm, and with a frustrated shake of his head, he pushed himself out of Ava's quarters. The boredom gnawed at him, driving him to explore the palace's darker, quieter halls.

The corridors were different here. The walls were darker, the light dimmer. Shadows clung to the corners, and the stillness made every sound feel amplified. Roni floated forward, his curiosity outweighing his discomfort.

Then he heard it.

A cry. A sound so raw, so filled with pain and despair, that it froze him in place. The mournful wail reverberated through the hall, tugging at something deep inside him. It wasn't just a sound; it was an outpouring of misery so profound that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

His curiosity burned hotter than his fear, and Roni swam toward the sound. The cries grew louder, leading him to a set of imposing black doors chained together with a single heavy lock. He hovered in front of them, the faint rattling of chains and soft sniffles from the other side sending shivers down his spine.

He reached out, tugging at the lock to test its strength. It didn't budge.

"Who is there?" a hoarse voice rasped from the other side.

Roni froze, his hand still on the lock. The voice was raw, worn with age or strain. He couldn't tell which.

"Who are you?" the voice asked again, closer this time. The sound was accompanied by the faint shuffle of movement. A moment later, a narrow slit appeared between the doors, just wide enough for Roni to glimpse a single green eye with a vertical pupil staring back at him.

"I can see you," the stranger said, his voice low and slightly accusatory.

Roni hesitated, his fingers brushing the chain nervously. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice wavering but curious.

The stranger's pupil shrank, narrowing to a thin line. "I asked first," the voice muttered, a hint of irritation in the tone.

Roni tugged at a strand of his hair, a habit that always surfaced when he felt uncertain. "My name is Roni," he said cautiously. "What is yours?"

The stranger fell silent for a long moment, the weight of his stare pressing heavily on Roni. Then, finally, the voice came again, softer this time.

"My name is Elric."