THE TALES OF THE ocean have always been a fascinating subject to children. Myths and legends deemed to be fantasies have always been real to them. The children of the ocean have grown up hearing these legends. Like an ancestral property, these tales have been passed down from generation to generation among families. 

My grandmother used to tell Cameron and me about the myths surrounding the ocean as if they were real. And for us, they were. From the angry sea god who would not hesitate to drink in its children to the merciful mother who would always look after her children when they plunged into her depths, stealing away her pride, the ocean has always been a subject of wonder, a personified greatness with mysterious elements. 

To me, they were just tales. I had witnessed first-hand the spiteful torment of the gods and the cruel pranks of the ocean that they were nothing more than stories that were preserved to keep it alive in a developing civilisation. 

But there was someone who believed in those tales, loved the sea god despite his wrath and adored the mother who would not hesitate to abandon her children.

 Cameron. 

To him, the sea, the ocean, the ever-so-wide mass of depth was as interesting and lovable as the mind of a human being and wanted to understand and learn about those depths by himself. 

The wind grows strong, and the song grows louder. The entire place seems to have grown silent and still- even the crashing of the waves goes pliant under the song's command. The unyielding glowing eyes have not disappeared. It stares at me from the sea bed. Bathed in the ethereal silver rays of the moon, I see it- a human face partly submerged, with only the upper part of the face visible. Gold threads of hair peek from the seabed and sway amidst the ocean currents.

I freeze. In the back of my mind, I think I hear the sound of bells. It breaks me from my stupor. I jump back and scream. It seems to have scared whatever the creature was as it blinks and disappears into the sea a fraction of a second later. 

“Who’s there?!” questions a voice from behind me, and it's angry. I turn around and clench my eyes shut when a powerful beam of light hits my eyes.  

“Clara? Is that you?” the voice questions. It is familiar, and the light blinks shut almost right after I recognise the owner. 

“Thomas?”

It is strange when I notice it. With the creature’s departure and Thomas’s arrival, the sea seems to come back alive. 

His tone shifts from anger to concern, “What are you doing out here at this time?”

"Uh..." My heart is still pounding from the incident that just occurred. I hope that Thomas cannot hear it. If he does, I hope he mistakes it for a surprise. I mask my fear with a smile and laugh, the sound comes out strangled. 

“Are you alright?”

“Ah, yes, I am fine. I was out here for a walk,” I pause and add as an afterthought, “maybe for a little too long.”

Thomas folds his arms over his chest and regards me with disappointment in his crinkled eyes. His grey hair flutters in the air, and the disapproval in his stance makes me feel like a child who has gone against her father’s orders. 

“I thought we had already discussed this.” 

I sigh. I wave my hands before me and force a smile- an apologetic one. “Look, I’m sorry. But I really needed this walk.”

His stance doesn’t change. “You’ve lived here for your whole life, Clara. Don’t you know how dangerous it is to walk here at a time like this? It’s literally past everyone’s curfew!”

“Yet you are here.”

“Clara!”

“I’m sorry. I just…really missed Cameron.”

Thomas sighs. His scowl eased into a smile. “I know my child. I know. But that doesn’t mean you have to risk your safety.”

I say nothing and wrap my arm around myself instead. Suddenly, the radio secured in his vest crackles to life. A gruff voice speaks, startling both him and me. “Assistance required near the lighthouse. Surrounding officers reach there immediately. Over.”

Thomas heaves again. He places his hands on his waist and turns to me. “You hear it, kiddo. Duty calls. Now, be good and return home.”

“Alright…” 

I hesitate, and Thomas notices it. “What’s wrong?”

I thought about it for a while, wondering if it would be right to tell him about what I had witnessed before. But the world is cruel, and people are even crueller. But evil of all would be the words of someone whom we trust ridiculing us. So I hold back and shake my head with a smile. “It’s nothing.” 

Thomas nods and heads towards his cycle parked at a distance. I follow him, but before I do, I cast one last glance, full of torment and fear, at the sea. 

At a side of the seashore hidden by the cliffs, an empty spot shines in the presence of something. It slowly rises from the seabed, and like an angel, it bathes in the moonlight. Wet strands of golden hair glimmer and stick against pale skin. Mystical blue eyes glimmer brightly as plush pink lips turn into a cold smirk directed at the young woman's retreating figure.

Myths and legends deemed to be fantasies have always been genuine to the children of the sea. Children of the sea- they knew the summer's warmth and winter's plight. They knew bitter coincidences and ugly futures. But more than enough, they knew her.

Fate.

And on this night, at the now-empty seashore, fate ties its red ribbon around the fingers of two souls, humming a song that seems to foretell heartache and demise.