"The dragon represents the greed of mankind, and it will break free once its icy chains melt from the heat... the heat of global warming!" exclaimed Mateo, shaking Helena by the shoulders.

"Hey... that actually makes sense!" Helena agreed, her voice tinged with worry.

Isabel shushed them:
"Eru was talking guys, let him finish."

Erunestian just smiled and tried to continue. They often interrupted his narrations. He realized that humans don't have a strong oral tradition, and wouldn't sit quietly for hours just to listen to him.
"Some say Amchuis is free at the end of the Fifth Age," he sighed. "The Sea People know that every age ends in great calamity, so, Fifth Age may end in another war..."

"The Sea People?" Mateo interrupted again. "Wait, were you the ones who caused the collapse of the Bronze Age?"

"The what?" asked Erunestian.

"An army that invaded ancient Egypt... or something like that..."

"If you say a war with people of the land, no, we never have one," Erunestian explained.

"Oh well... if it makes you feel any better, we humans have already had two world wars—with atomic bombs and everything—and we haven't gone extinct... yet," Mateo remarked with a nervous smile.

Helena rolled her eyes.

"Your people really enjoy testing the patience of the gods," Erunestian concluded, bringing a hand thoughtfully to his chin.

The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Isabel, excited, rushed to open it.

It was David, her fiancé.

Tall, slender, and with a kind expression. His short hair curled wildly on his head, and a pair of glasses framed his eyes. He wore shirt and slacks, like an office worker.

He joyfully kissed his fiancée, then jumped to embrace his new nephew and niece.

Erunestian contemplated the scene with a smile, wondering what was going on. All he heard was cheerful laughter.

"You must be Eru!" David said, approaching to shake his hand with enthusiasm. "Great to meet you, my friend!"

"Yes! You too!" Erunestian replied, slightly confused but laughing. He found this new human quite pleasant.

David radiated joy. His loud laughter seemed endless. He swept Isabel into his arms and took her to the couch to sit and talk about romantic things: the wedding, the honeymoon, their future together...

Helena and Mateo, bored of the mushy conversation, decided to head to their room to wait. 

Erunestian followed them, his expression bright. He sat down and began firing off questions:
"What is happening? Why are they so happy? Why are we up here instead of with them?"

The cousins laughed at him.

"They're happy because they're getting married," Mateo explained.

"Getting married! Is very good for them!" exclaimed Erunestian, then his voice dropped to a whisper:
"But they took long time, do you think?"

"What do you mean they took a long time?" Helena asked.

"They should married younger," Erunestian suggested.

"Noooo!" they exclaimed. "She's 30, and he's 32! That's a perfect age!"

"Is very late..." Erunestian insisted.

Helena and Mateo burst into laughter. "Then, Erunestian, you should already be married!"

"Not yet. On next year."

The laughter stopped dead.

"Wait, what? So you are actually engaged?"

"What's that?" he asked.

"He doesn't know!" they shouted between laughter and amazement.

"When you are ready, you ask your girlfriend to marry you," Helena explained. "She can accept or reject you, depending on whether she loves you back. If she accepts, you two get engaged."

"Oh... I did not do that"

"So you don't love her?" Mateo replied. "It's kind of a requirement for marriage."

"What a strange custom," Erunestian remarked. "Love is a luck. Others decide who I marry... I am to wed a princess from Northern Clan."

"An arranged marriage!" Helena cried, grimacing with sadness.

"Humans used to do that too," Mateo explained. "Now, the idea is that people should only marry for love. So a lot of people think if they don't find their 'soulmate,' they'll be miserable. It's frustrating, and many marriages don't last."

"Our great-grandparents had an arranged marriage," Helena added. "They barely knew each other and were forced to wed. But they stayed together forever."

"I never met the princess..." Erunestian said. "They say she's beautiful... But I don't want yet... Marriage seems too much work."

Mateo nodded.

"My parents..." he continued, "They fell in love! They were always together, and my father still sad because my mother is gone."

"Don't you wish to fall in love like they did?" Helena asked.

"I've never thought about it..." Erunestian admitted. "It would be interesting... I think."

Mateo laughed. "He's got his priorities straight! What does a guy our age need a girlfriend for, huh? Heartbreak and wasted money? No thanks!"

"Don't make excuses for your inability to get a girlfriend, Mateo!"

"Well you don't have a boyfriend either!" Mateo shot back, declaring he didn't need a girlfriend and that video games were a better waste of time.

Later that evening, during dinner, the only brief moment when Isabel and David discussed something other than their wedding, they talked about Erunestian's future. David said registering him discreetly wouldn't be a problem. Since he was already sixteen, David could request guardianship if Erunestian declared before a family court judge that he wished to stay with them.

"He'd only need two more years to reach adulthood," David explained. "By the time authorities check missing persons records and find nothing, he'll already be of age."

Erunestian listened intently.

"What do you say?" David asked. "Do you want to stay with us?"

"Oh! I am very happy to stay. Thank you so much!"

David laughed. "Don't mention it. Besides, once we sort the paperwork, you can even start school."

Erunestian didn't fully grasp the conversation. The idea of learning excited him yet, but his mind was set on one goal and his cheerful expression suddenly darkened.

"I don't need school," he said flatly, lowering his head. "I must save my people. I can't distract myself living as normal human boy."

The others smiled, trying to convince him that understanding humans required blending in. They said he'd love school, then he could go to university, and grow even smarter than he already was.

Erunestian listened but sensed that they still didn't take him seriously.
He knew David didn't believe his origin story, he just saw a rebellious teen who had made a mistake and needed to live with it and settle down. After all, David had been young once too, done reckless things, and ran away from home a couple times.

David shuddered. He had stopped talking, unnerved by how Erunestian seemed to see through him. Had he done something to upset him?

Silence fell. Then the prince spoke solemnly:

"The fate of a people can change for one man's mistake, especially if that man is prince or king, like me."

David gaped.

"The Sea People don't have houses like this, they just travel, they don't understand what 'settle down' is," he added. "I will go to school because I love learning. But understand, I don't have all my life to live as human."

David remained frozen in shock.

But Isabel gazed at Erunestian with tender sadness and muttered: "I'm sorry..."

"Now I know I can not speak to kings or presidents, that there are too many nations, and I am nobody. But I will learn about humans best I can!" He paused, offering an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, David... I scared you..."

"Wh-what was that?" David asked, grinning. "Did I say something... or does he read minds?"

"He reads minds, sometimes," said Mateo.

"And he doesn't know why," Helena added.

David shivered. He stared at Erunestian, scanning him from head to toe. Suddenly, he bursted out laughing, clapping Erunestian's shoulder.

"Wow, you're weird! I like weird people... Look, I don't know what strange quest you're on, but I'll support you on whatever you decide."

Erunestian beamed and thanked him with a slight bow. "I go to school, please don't worry."

"Knowing you, you'll finish school, college, and whatever else, in like, two years," Helena teased.

After more jokes, Helena and Mateo thanked them for dinner and returned to their room. Erunestian followed but lingered outside the kitchen door, eavesdropping.

"I'm good at reading people," said David to Isabel. "That boy isn't lying. Either his story is real, or he believes it's real."

"But it's still fascinating, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," David agreed. "And you're right, we shouldn't hand him over to child services. Poor kid would end up in a government, sort of, orphanage. He'd probably get bullied."

"What did you say you'd do at the courthouse?"

"Right... I can file for voluntary guardianship. It'll move faster if I argue that institutionalizing him would harm his development since he's vulnerable due to his visual impairment."

"We'd need to show our bank statements and such, right?"

"Yes, to prove that he'd be in a stable environment. It's simpler than full adoption..."

Erunestian stopped listening. A stranger's words had struck him like a slap on the face. He'd worked so hard to be seen as a man in his clan. Now he was a back to being a child, and dismissed as 'vulnerable'. He slumped against the wall, tilting his head back, eyes wide with anguish. "So even among humans, the blind aren't really normal either." He swallowed a bitter laugh. "People must've been staring when I went outside."

His memory brought him back to one of the darkest times in his life. When he discovered how cruel the fate of the sick and disabled was among the Mannen.

Many ancient human civilizations abandoned unwanted infants, but the Mannen were still sacrificing the weak no matter what age. Their nomadic life, constant dangers, primitive medicine, and scarce food, made sustaining those with special needs almost impossible. So, those who couldn't fend for themselves had to face a noble death.

Adults with incurable illnesses or debilitating injuries were expected to end their own lives as an act of loyalty. Only royal blood spared Erunestian from the ritual suicide if incapacitated, but he'd lose his right to rule, and would be demoted to an advisor, for a blind king couldn't lead his clan.
But, since he'd committed treason by contacting humans and taking a human body, he would definitely be on death row.. 

He always despised the sacrifices: innocent babies, unwilling soldiers, grieving families.
He would beg his father to spare them. "We could help them live well," He would say. But his father, regretful yet firm, explained the harsh reality, there were too many mouths to feed, so each person needed to earn their keep.

The hatred for this cruelty fueled his fascination with humans. Did their abundance let them spare the weak?

That fascination became an obsession six years ago, after a fateful accident:

While training, his best friend, Serfindel, got injured. His wounds were not serious, but they decided to head back. Unluckily, they encountered a hungry shark, that confused the children with helpless pray.

The shark attacked, dragging Serfindel below. No one heard their cries for help.

Blinded by rage, Erunestian plunged to kill it. And just as the adults were arriving to the scene, he emerged from a cloud of blood with his unconscious friend over his shoulder.

Erymannen celebrated the heroism of the young prince, while ignoring the courage of Serfindel who endured the pain of his wounds. His tail was mutilated, he would never swim well enough to hunt or fight.

He appeared at a tribunal and was judged as an adult, his abilities assessed, his duty clear: without complaint, he prepared for death.

Erunestian begged to his father for mercy for three days to no avail. On the fourth day, heartbroken, he went to say goodbye to his dear friend.

"Don't grieve, Eru," Serfindel said. "I want this. It's an honor. I'd hate living broken, being a burden to the others."

The clan honored his sacrifice, sang him mourning songs, his parents bereaved. But as the time went by, his name was rarely mentioned again.

Erunestian never forgot him, he felt like he had watched him die twice: first by the shark, then by his own hand. In his heart he kept resentment against his father.

The Mannen didn't fear death like humans. They faced it daily, yearning for their rest at Iridtinem's domains. But Erunestian cherished life, and as time went by, he questioned his own traditions whenever he saw hints of compassion somewhere else: the whales had it, the humans had it.

A ship-struck whale with a broken tail, that swam slowly, would not be abandoned by its pod. They would stay until it died.

And humans worked hard to save strangers in shipwrecks, and would take care of the weak and elderly.

But his own people, who prided themselves on their virtue, discarded people without hesitation once they stopped being useful.

"Serfindel... so I'm here because of you," he thought. "Broken like you."

"Eru? You okay?" Helena's voice snapped Erunestian back into reality.

"Yes," he replied with a smile.

She didn't believe him, but didn't insist.
"Come with us, let's play a game," she said, tugging his arm and pulling him toward the room.

Erunestian followed her and, a little worried, he asked:
"What do you learn in school? Do they teach fighting and hunting, or just history and laws?"

Helena and Mateo laughed.
"History, yes, but not the rest! We read and write, we study math, biology, physics, literature..."

"Wait!" Erunestian interrupted. "Read and write? But I can't see letters..."

"Oh, right..."

He fell silent, crestfallen.

"Well!" Helena exclaimed. "You'll have to go to a different school, I guess."

"It would've been fun if you came to school with us," Mateo commented.

"A different school?"

"Yeah..." Mateo said. "You have to learn to read in Braille. It's an alphabet for people who can't see."

"You're going to love it!" Helena exclaimed. "You read it with your fingers! And then, I guess they'll teach you how to use a computer so you can look up information and write faster."

Erunestian was deeply moved. A wide smile spread across his face.
"I can't believe it... Humans made letters for people who can't see!"

Helena laughed.
"Of course! There are thousands of people like that. It wouldn't be fair to leave them out."

"Thank you!" Erunestian exclaimed, as if they had been the ones who invented the alphabet themselves. "Humans are amazing!"

"Humans can be just as amazing as they are terrible," Mateo said.

"For now, all you can do is enjoy the good things," said Helena. "Now let's play!"

"What are we playing?" Erunestian asked.

"A game called 'Two Truths and a Lie,'" Helena explained.

"You destroyed us in 'I Went to the Market,' and 'Never Have I Ever' is way too unfair for us. We had to find something else to play with you."

"Well, I've got a good memory and I'm not human," he said with a smile and a shrug. "Next time I will teach the game."

"You're on!"

The sea breeze of the night drifted in through the open window, fresh and delightful. The sea crashed against the sand, and crickets chirped outside. Their laughter echoed from their lonely house by the sea. A house that, on that day, was full of a kind of joy Erunestian had rarely seen in his life.