ON A CLEAR day, Bastian embarks on a new scuba diving session. The azure skies stretch beyond the horizon, and the crystal green waves lapping over the surface of the sand merge into one. Bastian prefers the thrilling rush that is in his veins during his usual days at the sea, spent riding the unpredictable waves that beckon the land and him. However, the day calls for a pleasant dive into the bosom of the oceanic abyss rather than pleasurable advances. The air is unnaturally humid, but the rays are suffocatingly calm. He should cancel the entire plan if it suffices, although it might not be possible for that idiot Austin is keen on taking the poor souls to the beach regardless of what the sea has in bay if that earns him a handful of sum. 

Children of the sea they are, and children of the sea will they remain. Bastian knows better than to heed no respect to the plain signs in motion. 

Bastian zips the black fitted diving suit that adorns his body effortlessly and takes a moment to breathe. His muscles tense at the motion, making the thick fabric of the suit move alongside it. At that moment, a young man’s voice booms in the room alongside a woman’s, their tone carrying mischief and excitement. Numerous thoughts run through his mind at the moment, but only one stands out. It could be any one of them. 

The siren’s prey. 

His hands are clenched by his sides, eyes squinting, and brows furrowing. Nothing he does can lift his thoughts from the matter on hand- Clara and her agreement with the siren. He knows the girl has no choice but to think she would abandon her morals for the siren; half or quarter he doesn’t need to know. 

All he can think of is the safety of the girl and the siren’s other potential victims. He sighs. Bastian is aware of his heightened senses when it comes to discerning good from evil, but he has never faltered in his steps, not even once. It is realistic to rule out his behaviour as rash and unbelievably cruel, but Bastian cannot help but believe that it is not the man’s true nature. Feet set in motion, Bastian ponders on the topic for a while. Come to think of it, he begins coming to an abrupt halt, he said that they’ll search for a potential target. As if not everyone can be the prey- as though there is a certain condition for it. 

He groans and urges himself to think. What exactly was it that led Clara to that guy? Surely, it cannot be a coincidence.

Bastian rakes his fingers through his auburn hair, burning bright red under the sun. His long fingers easily weave through his hair and part it, letting the black roots peek at the sky.  

He grunts and glares back at the sun before glancing down for relief. “I cannot think about this for any longer,” he says at last. Huffing a breath, he turns around and takes a brief notice of the group standing a few feet away, laughing among themselves. Bastian claps his hands, the sound thundering in the space between them. 

The group glances back, and the man yells, “Come on, people! We don’t have all the time in the world! It’s either now or never!”

The group laughs and joins Bastian, shuffling through the sand. Bastian grabs the youngest of them all and tucks him under his arm in an attempted chokehold, only to ruffle his hair when the boy groans in protest. The boy’s blonde hair stood out among the dark and bright, just like his personality. Maybe that is why, out of all people, he reminds him of Cameron. 

A younger, livelier version of Cameron. 

“Come on, buddy, it’s about time we go find some treasures in the sea”

THE BLUES AND THE GREENS Swimming inside the ocean is a sight to behold, and regardless of the times he has been a witness to its grace, Bastian cannot help but get his senses invaded by those powerful shivers of pure ecstasy. He has never seen someone who appreciated the ocean for its beauty apart from himself. Clara hated the ocean as far as he knew, and Victor - well, he hated the sight of anything apart from his laptop and books. The one who adores it just as much as him no longer exists in this world. 

Fishes of different kinds, sizes and shapes float above him, swirling along like they’ve been caught up in a whirlpool. Just like humans, these fishes seem to have a personality of their own- playful, annoying and a bit romantic than what nature allowed them for, chasing around the other like their whole world revolves around them. 

 Bastian takes off his breather while being underwater and propels ahead, the bubbles of air escaping from his mouth into the ocean where each one of them is popped off by the nearby fishes. 

It is all going well, a bit too well, that Bastian cannot shake off the unease from his being. He checks on the others and can only rake his fingers through his floating hair in response. His heart thumps against his chest as if it cannot contain itself, and it enrages the man. He shakes off the thought and swims deeper down the surface, away from his team. He thinks he hears the sound of a low, distant rumble, muffled by the water and stills. 

Goodness, are you testing me right now?

Bastian looks above his head and feels his blood go cold. There is not a single ray of light dripping down the ocean surface. It is pitch black. 

Bastian tries moving from his position but finds himself unable to even shift. Confused, he looks around and freezes entirely on not detecting anyone around him. 

What the-

He thrashes in the water, struggling pitifully against the waves, trying every trick he knows, but none of them works as he is stuck mid-water with nothing around him holding him down. He grows restless, screaming profanities in his mind from the growing concern for himself and his dearest crew. Each of their faces flash in his mind like a dream, dread settles on his shoulder with a particular blonde hair appearing in his view. 

No. He cannot let the boy face the same fate as his dearest friend. 

It is then that he hears it- a beautiful murmur- a lullaby being sung. His eyes grow wide in panic. Shit. He swiftly looks around, panic growing tenfold in a matter of seconds. 

A sudden rush of tide washes up his entire being, and he swirls along it until he is facing the other side- until he is facing it. 

Before him in its entirety floats the figure of a woman. It has no white in its sclera- it is pitch black with a pair of azure irides that glow bright in the abyss. Translucent hair floats around its entire body like a veil of secrets, while the entire skin is mapped with moss. It lifts its right hand, and Bastian jolts in surprise. The entity, however, remains eerily calm. It simply points ahead and stays that way for a long, long time. Another rumble echoes down the waves, and he is forced to break the eye contact, thus breaking away from the trance.  When he glances back, the entity is gone. 

Like the thunder that strikes up in the sky, Bastian feels a burst of electric energy swimming in his body, allowing him to finally move. 

He swims and swims and swims, propelling his hands and thrashing against the waves until he is finally up in the surface. The sight he sees is the sight he fears. Dark clouds, devoid of white, stretch the entirety of the sky with fastened movements of lightning in it. The panic from before washes over him yet again with a hint of anger directed at Austin for not paying any heed to his pleadings. 

However, all of it is erased from his body at the sight of his panicked teammates watching out for him in the sea. Bastian shouts. “Don’t lean over the boat like that idiot! You’ll fall!”

Relief washes off their face at Bastian’s sight, and they all call out for him in happiness. The men help him up the boat and order him to take a breather, but Bastian doesn’t do that at all. He is a child belonging to the sea. He knows his mother better than anyone else. 

And so he heads straight to the deck and starts the engine. “You guys, let me tell you something,” he begins. “We won’t make it back in this kind of weather. However, since I had already seen it coming, we will be going to the nearby island- don’t worry, there are no cannibals there, just friendly old folks. We will spend the night there, hopefully only a night if the weather is kind enough. Otherwise, maybe days.”

“Oh, and don’t worry about your family. Austin will inform them.”

If anyone had a protest standing on the tip of their tongue, all of it died down the moment Bastian slammed his authority card down on the bench. Thankfully, the weather is kind enough to mellow down a bit until they reach the shore of the island. People are crowding down the shores, all busy handling the boats and keeping them far away from the seaside as they can. Bastian slows the boat down and observes his surroundings, taking note of the people around, who seem surprised by such a visit but not unwelcoming for such a sight displayed by the sky. 

He parks the boat safely by the shore and helps the others get off it. An old man shouts at him to keep the boat off the seaside and comes forward for help. He is followed by several others in a matter of minutes. 

“Bastian! It’s been a while, young man!” the old man proclaims at last, wrapping him into a warm embrace. “Hey, old man. I did tell your wife we might come here if the weather is fine. “

He laughs. “It’s the sea, my dear, unpredictable as always. Now come on, get inside the vehicle. You are dripping wet so are your friends.”

 Bastian obeys and nods at the others to follow him. The oldest among the group other than Bastian taps him on the shoulder and compels him backward. “You know them?”

“Yeah. I used to come here a lot, both with my friends and alone. Though it might have been a long time since I’ve taken my friends here.”

He made himself comfortable in the back of the truck. The engine slowly rumbles into life just as the wind brings forward the lingering smell of freshly caught fish. One of the men wrinkles his nose at the smell of fish, and Bastian chuckles lowly. His eyes crinkle in mischief, and he rests his head on his knee. “Get used to it. There’s no way around.”

Perhaps it is because they are drenched from head to toe with remnants of salty air clinging on to their suits, they all shiver profusely by the time they reach the man’s house. The old woman nustled inside the safety and comfort of her house comes abruptly holding a set of towels in her arms and all but drapes the group in it. Some sigh in comfort while others relax, basking in the warmth inside the island. “Oh my, you’ve grown so tall, Bastian! And what is this? You’ve coloured your hair?”

“Ah, this-”

“It suits you, young man, though be careful, you might ruin your healthy hair if you do it so often.”

He chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The group murmurs, flattering the old lady and the man while Bastian busies himself by drying himself. A door creaks open somewhere, and Bastian follows the sound. He hears footsteps in the background of the rumbles and leisurely throws a glance at the house next door. It looks relatively new and well kept, with different greens and blues peeking out from the wall. Bastian chuckles, albeit sadly. Cameron would’ve loved this. 

“Honey, can you bring the clothes inside?”

“Yeah!” 

Bastian’s world stills. 

He could be mistaken, but the familiarity in that voice could never be. His head swiftly turns, and he finds himself lost in a daze as he takes in the sight of the person who appears before him, holding a basket in his arms, an unfamiliar song slipping past his lips like honey. 

Bastian doesn’t know what he is wishing for: should he wish it be a dream or real? 

Another swing of wind blew past them, making the familiar mess of stubborn blonde hair sway. Stubbles are growing in his chin. Brown eyes full of warmth and joy sweep past him, and Bastian forgets how to breathe. While the trademark piercing in between his lips is missing, there is no mistaking it. 

“Oh, that boy! He came here almost two weeks ago to live with his wife. Newlyweds, she said.” The old lady nudges his ribs. “He sort of looks like your friend, doesn’t he? What was he called again?”

Bastian’s lips moved, but no sound escaped past them. That is until all senses return to him like a tide crashing down by the bay. Before he realizes what he's doing, adrenaline surges through him, propelling him out the heavy wooden gate and into the house next door. He is screaming, his tone angry but full of relief. 

“Cameron!”