Weeks went by in the same quiet rhythm. Every other morning, Dylan would leave camp under the guise of fishing. But in truth, he was heading to the dock, where Yve waited. Their meetings were brief, secret, and sacred. With every shared glance, every quiet conversation, their bond deepened. Trust grew like moss on stone—slow, steady, and impossible to ignore.
One morning, Dylan gathered a handful of flat stones and flicked one across the surface. It skipped once, twice, then danced five times before sinking.
Yve watched, intrigued. "How did you do that?" Dylan smirked. "You've never skipped rocks before?"
"I've thrown them," she said, picking one up and hurling it. It plopped into the water with a single splash. Dylan chuckled. "That's not skipping. That's drownin'."
Yve narrowed her eyes playfully. "Show me again." He stepped beside her, brushing his fingers over her hand as he guided her grip. "Flat stone. Hold it like this. Angle your wrist. Then flick it low 'n fast."
Yve mimicked him, focused. She threw. Plop. Dylan laughed. "Better. Try again." She tried again. This time, the stone skipped once before sinking. Her eyes lit up. "I did it!"
"Barely," Dylan teased, but his smile was genuine. They kept at it, laughter echoing across the quiet dock.
Later that day, Dylan sat nearby, boots dangling off the edge, a flat stone in his hand. He tossed it across the water—it skipped four times before sinking.
They sat in silence for a while, the kind that felt comfortable. Then Dylan spoke, voice low. "Used to be a bodyguard," he said, eyes on the water. "Before all this."
Yve glanced at him, sensing the shift.
"Worked for high-profile folks. Kept 'em alive. That was my job." He didn't say more right away. Just tossed another stone.
Yve waited. "I had a brother," he added after a while. "Clyne. Older. Loud. Protective." Another pause. "Had a dog too. Pier. Cane Corso. Big guy. Loyal." Dylan's jaw tightened. "They're gone now. All of 'em." He didn't elaborate. Didn't need to.
Yve reached out, "I'm sorry."
Dylan nodded but didn't look at her. "World's cruel. Wasn't always like this." Dylan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the water. The sun had climbed higher, casting golden streaks across the dock. He didn't speak for a while, just let the silence stretch. Then, with a sigh, he muttered, "I still don't get it."
Yve turned her head slightly, listening.
"This whole damn apocalypse," he said. "Why it happened. Why people turned into monsters. It's like the world cracked open and let all the rot spill out."
Yve listened.
"I used to think there was balance, y'know? Good and bad. But now… it's just bad. All the time. People kill for scraps. For water. For nothin'. And the ones who try to do right? They die first." His voice was low, bitter. "It ain't fair."
Dylan stayed quiet after his last words, eyes still on the water. The silence between them wasn't heavy, it was thoughtful, like the world was giving him space to breathe.
Yve gently swirled her fingers in the water, watching the ripples dance outward. Then she spoke, voice soft but steady. "You know… I've seen a lot in my years. Not kingdoms rising and falling or anything dramatic like that," she said with a faint smile, "but enough to know that things change. People change."
Dylan glanced at her, listening. "I've lived through storms, real ones and the kind that tear you up inside. I've lost things too. Sirens. Places. Pieces of myself." She paused, letting the words settle. "But even in all that… there's always something new. Something unexpected."
She turned to him, her eyes calm and clear. "Like just take us for example. Two months ago, you didn't even know my kind existed. And now you're sitting beside me… teaching me how to skip rocks."
Dylan looked down, a quiet breath escaping his lips. "Guess your right."
"See", Yve said gently. "That's something to look forward to."
~~~
A few days later, it was near afternoon, Dylan walked slowly, boots thudding against the planks, eyes scanning the water for any sign of movement.
He set his tomahawk down beside him, crouching near the edge. His gaze stayed locked on the surface, waiting. Watching. Then, just a few feet away, the water broke. A head emerged, smooth, dark hair clinging to her face. Dylan flinched, hand instinctively reaching for his weapon, but stopped short when he saw Yve. "…Damn," he muttered under his breath.
Yve blinked up at him, her eyes calm, unreadable. She chuckled softly, the sound bubbling up from her throat like a ripple in the tide. Dylan narrowed his eyes. "What's so damn funny?"
She tilted her head, water still dripping from her hair. "It just baffles me," she said, voice smooth, almost teasing. "To this day I still can't believe I made a human friend"
Dylan scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I feel the same way too." His gaze drifted to her eyes, those piercing, ocean-born eyes. They shimmered unnaturally, like they held stars beneath the surface. But slowly, they began to shift. The glow dimmed. The sharpness softened. Her irises adjusted, becoming more human, more familiar.
He leaned in slightly. "I've been meanin' to ask…why're your eyes like that? Why do they… change?" Yve swam a little closer, her voice calm. "It helps me see better. We sirens have enhanced vision to help us see better underwater; we need it to survive. But above the surface, we don't really need enhanced vision… so they transform." She paused, then added, "Did you know our eyes were never made to transform? It just… evolved over the years."
She reached the edge of the dock, and Dylan instinctively knelt, offering his hand. She took it, and he helped her up gently, water dripping from her arms as she settled beside him. "Like Darwin's theory of evolution," Dylan muttered.
Yve blinked, then tilted her head. "Well… I don't know who that is. But yes. It evolved."
Dylan shifted, reaching into the small pouch clipped to his belt. "Oh hey," he said, almost awkward. "Brought you somethin'."
Yve tilted her head, curious. "What is it?"
He pulled out a few small, foil-wrapped pieces and held them out in his palm. "It's chocolate. Hershey Kisses. Ain't much but figured you might wanna try."
Yve leaned in, eyes narrowing at the tiny shapes. She traced her fingers over one, the foil crinkling under her touch. "They look like mountains," she murmured.
Before Dylan could say a word, she popped one into her mouth—foil and all. He blinked. "Whoa—wait, wait! You ain't supposed to eat the shiny part!"
Yve paused, lips pursed, clearly confused. Dylan chuckled, gently reaching out. "Here," he said, peeling one open. "You take off the wrapper first. Like this."
She watched closely, then spit the unwrapped chocolate and followed Dylan's instructions before putting it back on her mouth. Her eyes widened instantly. "…What is that?" she whispered, voice hushed like she'd just tasted magic.
"Sugar," Dylan said, grinning. "Sweet stuff. First time?"
Yve nodded slowly, still savoring the taste. "It's… strange. But good."
He leaned back, watching her with quiet amusement. "You're welcome."
Yve licked the last trace of chocolate from her lips, still marveling at the taste. "Where did you get these?" she asked, eyes flicking to the pouch at Dylan's side.
Dylan hesitated, then scratched his jaw. "…Stole it."
Yve blinked. "You stole it?"
He shrugged, not even trying to look guilty. "Yeah. From David."
"Who's David?", she replied.
Dylan leaned back, arms resting on his knees. "Someone I consider a brother. Been through hell together. He's loud, stubborn, eats like a damn bear."
Yve tilted her head. "What if your brother gets mad?"
Dylan chuckled, shaking his head. "David's already eaten enough chocolate in his life. He ain't gonna die if a few go missin' from his pouch."
Yve smiled, amused. "So, you steal from your brother… for me?" Dylan gave her a sideways glance. "Don't make it sound romantic."
Yve wiped her mouth, still savoring the lingering sweetness. Then she straightened, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Let me repay your kindness," she said. "I actually brought you something as well."
Dylan raised a brow. "You don't have to."
"You're gonna like it," she said confidently. "I know you humans cherish this."
Before he could ask, Yve turned and dove gracefully into the water, disappearing beneath the dock. Dylan leaned forward, squinting at the ripples. "Here we go again…"
Seconds passed. Then—
SPLASH.
Yve burst from the water, arms outstretched and launched something massive onto the dock.
THUD.
Dylan jumped back like he'd been shot. "HOLY—!" A huge, live king crab landed with a wet slap, legs flailing, claws twitching like it was ready to start a war. It skittered sideways, trying to flee, but Yve had tied its arms with seaweed—like a gift-wrapped monster.
Dylan scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over his tomahawk. "Woman! That thing's a damn tank! You tryin' to kill me?!"
Yve blinked innocently, water dripping from her hair. "You don't like it?"
Dylan pointed at the crab, which was now angrily clicking its claws like it had beef with the entire human race. "I do love crabs, not alive though!"
Yve giggled. "It's fresh. I caught it just for you."
Dylan stared at her, then at the crab, then back at her. "You tied its arms."
"I didn't want it to pinch you."
He rubbed his face, half-laughing, half-panicking. "You brought me a live sea beast as a thank-you gift. You're somethin' else."
Yve smiled proudly. "I'm repaying your kindness…and those mountain-like chocolates."
The crab twitched once. Then again. Then violently. Before Dylan could react, it rolled sideways and plopped off the dock with a splash. Dylan lunged, grabbing one of its legs just in time. The crab flailed, seaweed restraints straining against its strength. "Aw hell you ain't goin' nowhere?!"
The crab twisted, and with one sharp snap, it cut through the seaweed with a pincher. It reared back, legs flailing, claws wide open like it was ready to throw hands. Dylan stumbled, nearly falling into the water. "It's free! It's free 'nd it's pissed!"
Then—
SWOOSH.
An arrow sliced through the air and struck the crab's shell with a loud thunk. Dylan froze, eyes wide. He turned slowly. Yve remained at the edge, calm as ever, a bow in her hand. She was smiling. "How are you gonna eat it?" she asked sweetly.
Dylan blinked. "Where the hell'd you get a bow and arrow?!" Yve looked down at the weapon in her hand. The solid form shimmered, then melted into water, dripping through her fingers and rejoining the ocean below. Dylan stared, mouth slightly open. "You serious?"
She nodded. "Yes. This is how we summon our weapons. The water provides."
Dylan looked at the crab, still twitching but now defeated. "Remind me never to piss you off."
Yve giggled. "So… how are you gonna eat it?"
Dylan crouched beside the crab, still eyeing it like it might come back to life and start swinging. "We're gonna boil it," he said, brushing his hands off.
Yve raised a brow, amused. "Really? Why?"
Dylan smirked. "So the inside gets cooked. Problem is, we don't got a pot big enough for this beast."
Yve tilted her head. "I do have one back home…want me to get it?" Dylan looked around, scanning the trees and shoreline. His eyes narrowed, then lit up. "Not necessary, there's a few houses nearby," he said, pointing off into the distance. "I'll go grab some pots 'nd firewood. Won't take long."
Yve nodded. "Okay." She swam toward the dock, graceful as ever. Dylan reached out and helped her up again.
He picked up his tomahawk, slung it over his shoulder, and started walking. The houses were about fifteen minutes away, another fifteen back. If all went smoothly, he'd be back in half an hour. Assuming no crab-related revenge attacks happened while he is gone.
~~~
Dylan walked through the thin forest, boots crunching against dry leaves. He glanced back once, catching a glimpse of Yve's silhouette in the distance—her hair catching the light, her figure still by the dock. He smiled faintly, then bent down to pick up some firewood.
A few minutes later, he reached a fence, old, rusted, barely holding together. He gave it a cautious kick, and the gate creaked open. He raised his tomahawk, eyes sharp, senses alert. The house loomed ahead, quiet and still. He stepped inside slowly, checking corners, listening for shriekers or movements. Nothing.
Then the smell hit him. Foul. Rancid. Like rot soaked in gasoline. He gagged slightly, pulling his shirt over his nose. In the distance, a body lay sprawled on the floor—head burst open, maggots crawling through the mess like they owned it.
On the chair beside it, another body slumped forward. A woman. Her head was also burst open, eyes hollow, mouth frozen mid-scream.
Dylan muttered under his breath, voice low and grim. "Damn…" He crouched, inspecting the decay, the flies, the layers of dust. "Been dead least ten months," he whispered. "Maybe more."
Then—a sudden clang echoed through the quiet, metal hitting wood. Dylan spun around, hand on his tomahawk. Just a can. Rolled off the edge, clattered near his boots. He stepped closer, cautious, eyes scanning. Then a huge rat darted out from under the deck, tail whipping like a rope. Dylan sighed. "Damn rats. Always actin' like they pay rent."
He headed inside, rummaging through the dusty kitchen. Found a pot. A knife. A few firewood stacked in the corner. He was thinking maybe he could give Yve a proper human meal.
He spotted a box, sturdy enough. Packed the pot, knife, firewood, and cutlery inside. Then hauled it back toward the dock.
A few minutes later, he reached the shore—but stopped cold. Whispers. Low. Faint. Yve's. "Yve?" he called out.
She turned to him slowly, eyes calm, but as she moved, the water behind her shifted. A head emerged. Not hers.
But a creature. Massive. Ancient. Serpent-like. His mane flowed like seaweed in a storm, eyes glowing with primal fury. Dylan's breath caught. He dropped the box with a loud thud, tomahawk already in hand.
The serpent surged forward, water crashing around him. He coiled protectively in front of Yve, growling, hissing, roaring like thunder underwater. Dylan stumbled back but didn't run. "Yve! Swim away! Now!"
The creature bared his teeth, the sound vibrating through the dock like a warning from deep. Yve raised a hand, confused. "Dylan, wait—he's not—"
"He's lookin' at me like I'm dinner!" Dylan shouted, heart pounding. "I ain't goin' down like that!"
Yve leapt off the dock, slicing through the water like a blade. She swam fast toward the shore, her voice rising above the waves. "Dylan! Lower your weapon!"
Dylan didn't budge. His grip tightened around the tomahawk. "If I lower it, I'm gonna die!" The creature hissed louder, slithering closer, his massive body rising from the water. His glowing eyes locked onto Dylan's—piercing, ancient, like he could see straight into his soul.
"Just trust me," Yve shouted, her voice urgent. "Drop your weapon!" Dylan hesitated. His heart pounded like a war drum. He looked at Yve, swallowed hard, then slowly lowered the tomahawk. Let it fall to the ground with a soft clunk. He raised his hands, palms out, half surrender, half like he was calming a wild dog. The serpent leaned in, nostrils flaring, hissing low and deep. Their eyes met, man and serpent.
Dylan stood frozen, breath shallow. The serpent circled him, coils brushing the dock, massive body moving with eerie grace. Dylan's muscles tensed. He's gonna twist me up like a pretzel and snap me in half, he thought.
But he didn't move. He trusted Yve. The serpent sniffed him from head to toe, slow and deliberate, tasting his intentions in the air. Then, with a final growl, he turned and crawled back to Yve.
She knelt at the edge, hand outstretched like a master welcoming her companion home. The creature nuzzled her palm, then sank halfway into the water, still watching Dylan.
Dylan exhaled sharply, knees buckling. He dropped to the dock, heart still racing. "What… what is that?" he asked, voice hoarse.
Yve stroked the creature's mane gently. "He's Nierven, my companion." Dylan still catching his breath, eyes wide, heart thudding like a drum in his chest. "You have a damn dragon as a pet?" he wheezed.
Yve chuckled as she gently stroked Nierven's mane. The serpent hissed low, eyes never leaving Dylan, watching his every move like a guard dog with trust issues.
"He's not a dragon," Yve said calmly. "He's an ancient water serpent." Nierven's head tilted slightly, tendrils swaying, still locked onto Dylan like he was deciding whether to eat him.
"He's been with me for a hundred and fifty years," Yve added, her voice soft, almost proud. "I raised him myself."
Dylan blinked, then let out a short, breathless laugh. "You're tellin' me you raised a sea monster for nearly two centuries… and now he's sniffin' me like I'm a damn snack." Nierven hissed again, louder this time. "Alright, alright," Dylan muttered, hands up again. "No disrespect, big guy."
Yve glanced at Dylan, still catching his breath, tomahawk lying forgotten on the ground. "Nierven's just trying to sense if you're dangerous or not," she explained calmly. "And since you're still here… and not inside his stomach, that means you're not." She turned to Nierven, gently petting his scaled head. "Right?"
Nierven hissed softly, then nudged Yve's shoulder with his nose—like a silent confirmation. Yve looked back at Dylan. "Come here. I'll introduce you."
Dylan, still half afraid and half amazed, slowly stood up. His legs felt like jelly, but he moved forward, step by cautious step. Nierven watched him like a hawk, every swing of his arms, every shift in his weight, every breath.
"Open your palms," she said. "Let him come to you." Dylan hesitated, then slowly raised his hands, palms open, fingers slightly trembling. He held his breath, bracing for whatever came next. Nierven slithered forward, eyes locked on Dylan's hands. He sniffed the air, then leaned in, hissing low. His nose hovered just above Dylan's palms, tasting his intentions. Then—he nudged Dylan's hand with his nose.
A sign. He didn't see Dylan as a threat.
~~~
Things finally calmed down. The crab was nearly cooked, its shell turning deep red under the bubbling heat of the pot. Nierven drifted lazily in the water nearby, only his head exposed, eyes scanning the surroundings like a silent sentinel. Slowly, he swam closer to the pot, tilting his head as if trying to make sense of the strange ritual unfolding before him.
Yve watched him with amusement. Nierven's gaze shifted to her, and she felt the question ripple through their bond. She chuckled softly. "Dylan's cooking the crab we caught earlier," she explained.
Nierven hissed, not in anger, but in a way that sounded almost like a sigh. Dylan, still a little shaken from earlier but visibly calmer, glanced at Yve. "Where'd you get him?" he asked, voice low and curious.
Yve's eyes softened. "I found him years ago. I was exploring a sunken ship in the Mediterranean Sea, one of those massive ones, long forgotten. Inside one of the rooms, I saw this huge, round, beautiful rock. It was mesmerizing. I took it home, even though it was heavy as hell." She smiled at the memory. "For years, I thought it was just a rock. I even sat on it sometimes. Then one day… it cracked. I thought I broke it. But it wasn't broken—it hatched."
Dylan leaned in, listening intently. "Inside was a tiny baby serpent, curled up and asleep. That was Nierven. From that moment on… I guess I became his mother."
Dylan watched Nierven for a moment, then turned to Yve. "Where's his parents?"
Yve's expression dimmed. "I don't know," she said softly, then sighed. "But there's a story… a legend, really. It says that millenniums ago, a great battle broke out. Not just between humans, but between creatures of all kinds. It was bloody. Brutal. Millions of humans died… and many of our kind too."
She glanced at Nierven, who was now circling the pot again, his movements slow and thoughtful. "Maybe that's when his parents were killed," she added quietly.
Dylan frowned, sympathy flickering in his eyes. "Poor thing. What caused the battle?"
Yve shook her head. "I don't know. Honestly, no one does. There's no one alive from that era to tell the tale now. I guess it's just a made-up story…" She paused, then looked at Dylan with a faint smile. "But who knows? For every story… lies a hidden truth beneath."
The crab was finally ready. Dylan cracked it open with practiced hands, dividing the meat into three equal portions. Steam curled into the air, carrying a rich, savory scent that made Yve's stomach flutter with anticipation.
"You should eat plenty," Yve said, watching him. "There's lots more where that came from. I can always hunt for more."
Dylan shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "That's true," he said, "but they ain't cooked." Yve laughed softly, conceding with a nod. "Fair point."
She handed the third portion to Nierven, who snatched it with a swift motion and devoured it in one bite, chewing once, then gulping it down like a hungry child. Yve blinked, amused. "Well… someone liked it."
She took a bite of her own portion—and her eyes widened. It was delicious. The flavors danced across her tongue, richer and more complex than anything she'd tasted before. Her palate, once limited to the ocean's raw offerings, had just discovered a new world.
Excited, she turned to Dylan, her voice bubbling with joy. "You have to take me with you." Dylan paused mid-bite, brows raised. "Where?"
"To land," Yve said, eyes gleaming. "I've always been curious. Dylan shook his head, stepping back from the pot. "No. I don't like this. It's dangerous."
Yve raised a brow. "I can take care of myself."
"But why would you even wanna surface?" Dylan asked, voice low and rough. "There's nothing here on land but decay and pain."
Yve looked at him, her gaze soft but piercing. "Maybe I just wanted to see what kind of world shaped you into the man you are now."
That made Dylan pause. His breath caught for a moment, and he looked away. He couldn't deny it, he'd thought about it once. Just once. What would it be like if Yve walked beside him on land.
He sighed. "How are you even gonna walk? You've got tails." Yve blinked, then laughed. "Oh yeah, that's right. Don't worry, my birthday's coming soon. I'm hoping I get legs this time."
Dylan frowned. "What do you mean?"
"When a siren turns two hundred years old, they're granted legs to walk on land," Yve said casually. Dylan's eyes widened. "You're almost 200 years old?? But you said you're 23!"
Yve nodded. "That's also right. I'm 230 years old."
"What?" Dylan blinked, clearly confused.
Yve smiled, sensing his bewilderment. "Time flows differently for us. Ten human years is just one year for us. So, while I'm 230 in your world, I'm only 23 in mine."
Dylan rubbed the back of his neck. "But you just said sirens get legs at 200. Where's yours?"
Yve's expression dimmed slightly. She ran a finger along the inside of her wrist, tracing a faint birthmark shaped like a split Gemini constellation. "That's one of the downsides of having this mark."
Dylan leaned closer. "I've been meaning to ask… what is that?"
Yve shrugged it off, her voice quiet. "I'll tell you later. Just… later."
Dylan shook his head, eyes still scanning the horizon. "Okay, but still… it's dangerous. Not just the shriekers. People too. I've met folks who'd kill just for a sip of water."
Yve leaned closer, her voice calm but firm. "I can take care of myself." She gestured toward Nierven, who was now munching on a fish he'd caught, his tail flicking lazily in the water. "I have Nierven."
Then she reached toward the surface of the water. It shimmered, responding to her touch, and solidified into a sleek, glistening sword in her hand. "This."
Dylan's eyes widened slightly, but Yve wasn't done. She tapped his shoulders gently, "And most importantly…" she said, her voice softening. She looked into his eyes, steady and unflinching. "You."
For a moment, the world seemed to hush around them. Yve patted Dylan's shoulders a moment longer, then spoke gently. "I know you're scared, Dylan. I may not know what happened in your past… but I can see it in your eyes."
Dylan's jaw tightened. "See what?"
Yve's voice softened, her gaze unwavering. "The pain of losing someone. I saw it from the moment I met you. The way you flinch in your sleep… the nightmares you have. The fear. The guilt. The sadness buried so deep in your heart, you don't even let yourself feel it anymore."
Dylan froze.
Her words hit something raw inside him. Memories he'd buried clawed their way back, faces, screams, the smell of smoke, the sound of crying, the silence that followed. His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn't speak.
Yve didn't push. She just stood there, her presence steady, like the ocean itself, vast, quiet, and unyielding. Then she said something that cracked the wall around his heart. "You don't have to carry it alone anymore."
Dylan blinked, shaken. "No one's ever told me that," he whispered, voice barely audible.
Yve nodded. "I'm not asking you to let go of it. Just… Let me walk beside you, Dylan." It wasn't love. It wasn't a promise. It was something deeper, an understanding. A comfort he hadn't felt in years. Not since before the world fell apart.
And for the first time in a long, long time… Dylan didn't feel alone.
Dylan sighed, the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders. He looked at Yve, her eyes still locked onto his, unwavering and full of quiet strength. "Alright," he said finally, voice low and hesitant. "You can come with me."
Yve's eyes lit up, but before she could speak, Dylan raised a finger. "But under one condition."
She tilted her head, listening. "If you ever find yourself in a life-threatening situation," he said, voice firm, "I'm taking you back to the ocean. No arguments."
Yve blinked, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. Then she nodded slowly, her voice gentle. "Deal.
Dylan didn't say anything more. He just looked at her for a moment longer, as if trying to understand what he'd just agreed to…and why it mattered so much.
---------------------------------------------
Author's Note
In Chapter 2, the world of Chronicles of the Realms begins to stretch beyond survival. Dylan and Yve's bond deepens, not through grand declarations, but through quiet rituals, shared laughter, and the courage to be vulnerable. This chapter explores the unexpected: a siren learning to skip stones, a bodyguard sharing chocolate, and a sea serpent guarding a fragile trust.
It's a reminder that even in a broken world, connection can bloom in the smallest moments. And sometimes, the most powerful shift isn't in the battle, but in the choice to let someone walk beside you.
Thank you for continuing this journey. The Realms are just beginning to reveal their secrets.