The sand was cold and damp beneath Helena’s feet. For her, it felt as if they were going to forge history that dewy morning. The first meeting between a land-dweller and a man of the sea, an event that, if ever recorded, would be considered historic.

Erunestian decided to bring her alone to introduce her to his friend Satragtinel, believing she would seem the least threatening. So, she left the house with shaking knees and cold hands. She had braided half of her long hair and worn her second-best dress, the green one with embroidered flowers. Her family, having wished her a frantic good luck, now crowded the small balcony, straining for a glimpse of the impossible.

Erunestian's hand clung to her arm as she guided him through the sand. Noticing how tense she was, he tried to reassure her by telling her that his friend had promised not to bring any weapons.

Erunestian himself was not even carrying his white cane. She suppressed a nervous laugh, "this is not reassuring at all," she thought.

They reached the end of the wooden dock. The wind whipped Helena’s hair across her face.
“He is here,” Erunestian said softly, his empty eyes facing the waves.

Helena knelt and bowed her head, feeling her heart pound uncontrollably. Erunestian's voice sounded like a distant echo as he called his friend in that strange tongue.

"Alai Erunestian-traiu, Satragtinel aläitru si sdhrgîla trunë," a voice deep and rough replied from the water. 

Helena’s fingers clenched in the fabric of her dress.

"Alai Satrag! grätashu sa oí," Erunestian replied. "Helena, Satragtinel greets you."

"G... greetings, I am Helena," she stammered, still not daring to look up. Her voice was barely audible.

"Helena aläitru," Erunestian translated.

Satragtinel tilted his head slightly. He was prepared for anything but this. Weren't humans supposed to be fearsome? Weren't they supposed to be violent? But the human before him was making herself small, with hunched shoulders and a hidden face.

"Staa... umur tà imi peuru (Oh... I think she is afraid of me)," murmured Satragtinel.

"Suu? (Really?)"

"Tà imi chidien viss (She is hiding her face)."

Erunestian smiled.

"Why are you hiding your face?"

"You told me to lower my gaze when greeting?" she replied awkwardly.

"Yes, but don't overdo it," he said, laughing. His hands reached out, his fingers finding her chin with unerring gentleness, and guided her gaze upward. "Let me introduce you to my friend Satrag, messenger of Erymannen. A man of the sea."

Helena found herself staring into a pair of immense eyes, storm gray in color, so deep that she felt she was drowning. She couldn't look away. No politeness could stop her curiosity. She stared at his skin, smooth and gray; he had no ears, no eyebrows, and no hair. His small, upturned nose gave him a youthful air, and the curious curve of his lips was profoundly human.

Satragtinel raised his webbed hand and said in his language, hoping to give her confidence:

"I am happy to meet you, Helena. I hope we can get along."

He was staring too. The long black hair framing her face, the blush on her cheeks, her golden skin, her dark eyes, the rich colors of her dress. How could something so beautiful be born of a people known only for violence?

The silence began to stretch, filled only by the crash of the waves on the shore. 

“Ahem,” Erunestian prompted softly. “The gift, Helena.”

"Ah, yes. I did bring it... Here it is!"

She fumbled in her pocket and brought out the apple, polished to a bright crimson sheen. She held it out.

"What is it?" he asked.

"My dear friend," Erunestian began, his voice taking on a storyteller’s rhythm, "this humble offering has immense significance: it's a symbol of humanity, a fruit of the earth, cultivated and perfected over thousands of years. But it is not just any fruit; a red apple, the symbol of the forbidden, the symbol of sin. They say the first humans ate such a fruit, disobeying their God, but gaining the knowledge of good and evil, which is why they were then punished and banished to suffer on Earth. "

Satragtinel looked at his apple, thinking it was a treasure of immense value.

Erunestian continued: "This meeting is forbidden, but it will grant us greater wisdom." He extended his hand. “May I?”

Helena let out a laugh and said,

"It's just an apple. We have many other foods that are tastier and sweeter."

When Erunestian translated, Satragtinel looked at her in amazement.

"Yes!" Helena exclaimed. "There is a vast variety of food! I suggested getting you something more special, but Erunestian insisted on bringing you an apple."

"Because the apple's symbolism is important," he protested.

Satragtinel looked at them as if they had described a new color. "More delicious than this? I cannot die without tasting them!" 

"Wait here, let me bring you more things to try," said Helena standing up, but Erunestian stopped her.

"Oh we can surely bring you so many human delicacies that your mangluienan mind will struggle to grasp. And Satragtinel... We can even bring you fire, in which that food will be cooked." 

Two days passed, and the tide rose as the second night rolled in. A glowing full moon rose above the quiet beach, lighting up the ocean's mist. 

Satragtinel and his dolphins had just finished patrolling around the waters to make sure they were alone. The mystic air brought him some relief, as he realized that the goddess Maintinem was indeed protecting his secret.

A call from Erunestian came from the dock. He peeked out of the water and swam towards him. Erunestian signaled to follow him, and took him towards the rocky formations up north. There, tidal pools had formed where Satragtinel could quietly hide. 

The other humans arrived soon after, carrying objects, bags and boxes, running back and forth with even more supplies. Satragtinel watched them from the shadows, fascinated. 

Erunestian stood near him, arms crossed and a grin on his face.

"Maintinem, salumtru chlebhimuid," he whispered, praying to the moon.

"I can't help it, I'm scared like a molting crab," Satragtinel confessed. 

"You are not doing wrong, Satragtinel."

"Nothing wrong?" he complained. "I'm about to commit a crime!"

"Why is it a crime? Explain it to me."

"Because humans are dangerous?"

"Are they?"

"Well... Helena seems nice," he muttered.

"Be brave!" Erunestian exclaimed.

 Satragtinel hesitated.

"Being brave doesn’t just mean fighting ferocious animals with your spear. Sometimes it means daring to question your own way of thinking or that of your people. Does all this fear and hatred toward the Ardennen really benefit us?"

"No, we aren’t afraid of humans," Satragtinel corrected. "We do hate them a little, I think…"

 "Relax, it’s natural…"

 "Hating is natural?"

Erunestian shrugged. "Well yes, we aren’t perfect creatures. But we can try to perfect our spirit; after all, we are warriors, aren't we?"

Satragtinel nodded quietly. He was looking over at the humans that seemed to be having a hard time setting logs on the ground and scrabbling around them. 

"What are they doing?" he asked. 

But Erunestian had no clue. 

"What are you doing?" he yelled.

"Trying to light up the fire!" answered Mateo from afar.

Soon enough, the smell of smoke reached Erunestian's nose. "I think it's working!" he exclaimed. 

Satragtinel already knew it, as he was looking at the crackles and sparks. A tiny flame grew, fed by careful breaths and twigs, until a proper fire leapt to life, painting the humans' faces in warm gold and dancing shadow. The light reached Satragtinel's pool, illuminating his own form.

The humans froze, staring. He stared back. They were slender, fragile-looking things. But they were all looking at each other as if they did not know if they were about to be taken as prey. 

Helena broke the spell and walked towards them. She held a lighter in her hand. 

Seeing how fire was born had always been Satragtinel's dream, he carried the fire's god's name on him after all. 

Helena held the tiny flame in her hand and extended it to him as if it was a flower. He reached out to feel its dry warmth.

"It's magic," he breathed.

"Fire isn't magic," explained Erunestian. "They create it with a spark, something that burns, and air."

"It's magic," Satragtinel insisted, and they let him have the truth.

Mateo gathered courage and went to say hello to Erunestian's friend. 

“Hi, my name is Mateo,” he said, extending his hand in greeting. Satragtinel backed down a little. So Mateo quickly put his hand back in his pocket. He wasn't too keen on touching the guy's wet, gray skin anyway.

Satragtinel still returned the greeting. The people of Erymannen are polite at all times.

"Alai, Mateo. Bheim Satragtinel, Athidem sûnus."

Then came Isabel and David, to thank him for being their guest, and explaining how they had food and music to share. But Isabel wanted that they two, Satragtinel and Erunestian shared something of their own as well. It could be a song or a tale. 

"Their celebrations are just like ours, aren't they?" commented Satragtinel. "Let's show these humans how a good song should sound!"

After sharing roasted fish (a revelation of smoky, flaky texture) and strange sweet cakes, the two mannen started their song

Erunestian started. His voice was clear and carried a steady and ornamented melody. Satragtinel joined with his raspy baritone voice, accompanying him in haunting harmony, while tapping a complex rythm on the water's surface. 

Their ancient song rose into the brume, it was both a praise to the moon and a lament of heartbreak. 

The humans were utterly still, spines chilled, caught between awe and a strange sorrow. As the last note faded into the crash of a distant wave, there was a profound silence.

In the language of humans the words said:

Pure woman with blue eyes,
The moon sings and dances above.
The woman sings and dances,
Like the moon above.

Her skin is silver like the goddess,
Her tail is long and her hips so wide.
I rejoice just seeing her,
Like when I see the moon above.

I want her to look at me,
I want her to be my wife.
But I don't dance like her,
She will never be my wife.

Khuenne khuentach sîmrli bheag,
Maine brunag sheiru cheagh,
Khuenne brunag Khuenne sheiru,
Chamhë Maine cheagh.

Khuenne kin chamhë Maintinem,
Guenne lërma, surëma iliniem,
Saráshu ná tsveisihneli
Chamchë Maine cheagh.

Vrëushu tsveisirihneli shui,
Vrëushu bheimirihnel Khuenne sunë.
Öch chamche brunihnel brunshu nai, 
Beihmaihnel khuenne sunë mai.

Erunestian bowed at the end of their chanting. The humans stood with thunderous applause. Among the cheering and praising, a sudden flash of light illuminated the scene. 

Satragtinel flinched, his eyes seared. "Young lord! What is that light?" He pointed toward Mateo, who was lowering a small black object from his face. "I'm certain it came from that man's hands!"

Erunestian remained silent. He didn't look where Satragtinel was pointing.

"Don't you see those lights, young lord?"

"I don't see them, Satrag."

He looked sharply at Erunestian's face, his eyes always hung somewhere in the horizon, never quite meeting anyone's gaze. 

"Am I going mad?" he whispered, but it was not a question.

"No, you're not mad..." Erunestian sighed with resignation. "It's me who is blind."

Satragtinel remained silent. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. It all made sense now. He had paid the price for the sirens' magic with his own eyes. An unbearable curse.

Erunestian stood up, extending his cane in front of him.

"I'll go ask the humans what's that light you speak of." 

"No! Erunestian, wait..." Satragtinel’s webbed hand shot out, stopping him. His voice dropped to a desperate, briney whisper. "Do they know?"

"Know what?"

"That you're a... "

"Bhrúsnanen?"

A faint, sad smile touched Erunestian’s lips. "Of course! From the very beginning."

Satragtinel stared at the humans across the fire, who were now looking back, sensing the shift in the air. He brought Erunestian closer and whispered to his ear.

"Then why haven’t they killed you yet?" 

Across the flames, Helena saw the gray hand gripping Erunestian’s arm. She saw the blind boy's shoulders tense, and the easy joy of the evening drain from his face, leaving behind some old painful wound. She didn't know what they said, but she understood that it wasn't a matter in which humans could intervene.