Kealie didn't know when she lost consciousness or when the cold tremors stopped plaguing her body.

She only had the sense of warmth in the darkness behind her eyelids. Slowly, soft fabrics brushed past her fingertips, a thick material with plenty of density. Soft and plush.

Her senses picked up on the crackling fire and some twigs snapping against the pressure. Footsteps scraping against hot, flat stones.

Stones, she realized, likely along the border to Natansia.

Their territory was very rocky and the city was built to withstand the damning storms that wracked their coastlines.

A Cove meant to protect both Casters and Nerydian's alike.

The first throb of her head began when Kealie opened her eyes. The migraine tormenting her felt like two rocks colliding against her skull with great force, the experience nearly blinding.

All she could make out through slitted eyes were long legs pacing back and forth in front of a firewall. The well-built structure radiated heat back in her direction, clearly designed for warmth and survival.

Kealie couldn't fight the groan wrestling from her mouth as she aimed to sit up. She only made it so far before slouching back on her shoulders, grimacing.

"I'd be surprised if you could see straight," the male said. "Let alone move."

She would've laughed if the very thought wasn't excruciating. "How reassuring," Kealie smirked.

"Coming from the girl who nearly drowned investigating an old ship, I'll take that as a compliment."

The Nerydian male's eyes glowed in her direction, flickering with something dangerously close to the line between humor and warning. The emerald green focused in and out of her vision, the bright color disarming even through blurry eyes. So familiar, yet foreign.

Kealie watched him closely, attempting to keep the world from moving on its own. The ground swayed, the shoreline rippled, and her mind twisted in pain.

Her brows knit together the harder she concentrated until he started to laugh.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Investigating you, I suppose," Kealie mused, wincing as her own voice echoing in her skull speared her nerves. "I don't even know your name, you never mentioned what you were doing in the wreckage."

Kealie's clothes dried wrinkled and crunchy, scratching against her skin. Grit covered her, unaided by the dead grass beneath them.

She felt unwashed and grimy, made worse by the way he stared.

The man watched her. His gaze traveled over her small frame, swaddled in thick furs and rested against a large rock in the grassiest patch of land. Studying her. Searching for injuries and clues as to what she might've been doing or why she'd found herself lost in the waves of sunken remains.

Kealie felt every cell in her body prickle as he looked her over, wondering just what he might've thought.

"My name is Nixian," he answered at last. "Who am I telling?"

She quite liked his name. Nixian. It rolled in the back of her throat and Kealie found herself wishing to say it aloud. Instead, however, she centered herself and considered her options.

Her circumstances.

If Nixian had meant to harm her or hoard her, he'd had an awful lot of time to do so. He didn't seem to mind who she was, let alone wonder.

So she decided for once in her life the full truth might be her best option.

"My name is Kealie Gothalis..." her last name slipped from her lips like acid, hitting the air with foul, quiet notes.

Never once had she thought she'd utter her heritage to a Nerydian. Never had Kealie considered admitting to the blood she'd hated from birth.

Her mother wished her a mortal girl.

Kealie wished her humanity, her small features, and cruel lineage were stripped from her instead.

Nixian didn't flinch.

His face remained passive and unreadable.

As if waiting for her to finish the sentence. She hadn't gotten that far, if anything expecting to be thrown into the fire he'd used to save her life. But she swallowed the iron rising in her throat and tried to find the words.

"I can't go home..." she found herself whispering. "I can't bear witness to that carnage anymore, I can't..."

"Carnage?" Nixian asked, tipping his head in confusion.

Kealie felt her throat turning to steel, freezing over at the thought of having to explain. The smell was starting to pollute Nynoli, he must know.

"I have to find a Caster in Natansia," she explained, forcing herself into an upright position for the first time.

Nixian laughed again, shaking his head. "Natansia is filled with Casters, they founded this continent."

Kealie blinked.

She couldn't stop the surprise from lining her face.

"Founded?"

Nixian came to the fireside and set another log against the flames.

His movements were fluid. Both certain and graceful, they carried actions without hesitation.

Confident.

"Did you come from the Capital, then?" he wondered aloud. "I recognize your surname from Nynoli, so I suppose you know history from a human's perspective."

"From Luverie, yes..." she mumbled the words.

Nixian flinched slightly that time, weighing the statement carefully.

All the hope Kealie had amassed in the last several moments was ripped away as she saw the realization heating his gaze. "Humans like to think they discovered this continent, however ridiculous that is. The late Therian Queen, Locosta Dalaminai discovered Nynoli with her husband, Hale Gothalis. You're great Grandfather from the smell of it... But I don't imagine you're a Lynali child."

Lynali...

The word sounded familiar to Kealie, but she couldn't quite place it. Educated as she might be, Naida had only given her the history books she'd wanted her to read.

Her confusion must've been obvious, though. Nixian scoffed again and came to sit on another large boulder several feet away.

"You don't even know what that means, do you?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Who sired you, Kealie?"

"I never met my father," she replied, frowning.

"And your mother?"

Kealie couldn't master herself enough to mask the snarl on her face. "Naida Gothalis."

Nixian visibly paled.

Kealie knew it had to be because of her mother's practices. Her brutal punishments had Kealie constantly considering how they might inevitably be to torture her and turn their citizens against her.

But something else lurked in his thoughts too.

Something Kealie couldn't read.

"What use is a Caster to you?" Nixian asked, ice softening his words.

There it was, the disgust.

She knew it had to be there.

Kealie's words clogged together in her mouth, jumbling up against her lips. Saying anything would be a death sentence.

Digging her mental heels in, she tore at those strange, powerful chains in her mind.

Kealie's eyes seared and burned, sizzling with intensity. Her veins boiled, spidering pain echoing throughout her body.

"I need help..." she ground out, panting. "I won't be safe until I find her."

Nixian's eyes narrowed in on her until understanding softened them. "You're cursed, aren't you?"

"You could say that," Kealie muttered. "My mother calls it a blessing."

"And the Caster did that to you?"

She nodded again.

The pain subsided as cold air brushed through her like a giant wave of relief.

When Kealie could feel her body again, she realized Nixian's demeanor had shifted completely.

He was thinking, looking from her to the sea with strange expressions passing over his face. None of them lasted longer than a second.

Kealie wondered what songs the sea sang of her.

If it even sang at all.

Nixian likely heard the songs too, even sighing as if they spoke to him. As if they told him what to do.

Dark clouds cusped the horizon line, creeping steadily closer to them as dusk grew. The turquoise sea churned into black ink, the golden skies vanishing into soft velvet purples.

The sight seemed to nag at Nixian.

"I thought you were going to freeze to death," he said, considering for a moment. "but Natansia is only a few hours from here. When you feel well enough, I can take you there."

"Why would you do that?" Kealie asked, focusing her attention on the fire.

"Because I've never known a Leviathan to risk their life for a Human," Nixian answered. "And I'm going to find out why."

Kealie swallowed uncomfortably but nodded.

At this rate, he very well might.

Word Count: 1,390               Total Word Count: 6,386