A Mermaid for the Lonely

A Town of Whispered Questions

The morning sun cast long shadows over the narrow streets of the town, turning the cobblestones into jagged pathways of light and dark. Lyam walked the familiar route from his small cottage on the outskirts, his steps unhurried, though he felt the weight of unseen eyes on his back.

People always watched him.

For as long as he could remember, the townsfolk had observed him with a quiet curiosity, wondering what business the reclusive man had with the sea. He was known for disappearing to the cliffs, spending hours staring out at the horizon, as if waiting for something—or someone. 

Few dared approach him, for he carried an air of solitude that kept most at a distance.

But since the festival, something had shifted. The town's curiosity had been sharpened into suspicion.

It had only been a few days since the festival, but Lyam could already sense the change. The murmurs as he passed by, the glances that lingered a bit too long, the questions left unspoken on people's lips. And though they didn't ask outright, he could feel the weight of their thoughts pressing in on him.

The mysterious girl.

She had been the center of attention at the festival, even though she had kept mostly to herself. Lyam had seen how the townspeople had looked at Sirène—the girl with the pale skin and wide silver eyes. They had wondered where she had come from, how someone so strange and ethereal could exist in a place so ordinary.

But now, as the days passed and Sirène had yet to be seen again, the townsfolk's curiosity had grown into something more dangerous. Whispers of concern, of something unnatural, had started to circulate.

Lyam quickened his pace, eager to reach the lagoon, where the town's eyes couldn't follow. He had no desire to explain himself to the locals, and even less desire to reveal anything about Sirène. The townspeople didn't need to know what she really was. It would only invite trouble—trouble for her and for him. They would never understand.

As he turned a corner, heading past the market stalls where early morning vendors were setting up their wares, he overheard a snippet of conversation between two older women huddled near a stand selling fruit.

"Strange girl, that one," one of them muttered, her voice low but sharp. "Haven't seen her since the festival. Lyam was with her, wasn't he?"

The other woman nodded, her eyes narrowing as she glanced in his direction. "Aye. Strange that she hasn't been back. Where do you suppose she came from?"

"Don't know," the first woman said, her brow furrowing. "But there's something off about her. Not like the other girls around here."

Lyam clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. He wanted to turn around, to tell them to mind their own business, but he forced himself to keep walking. Engaging with them would only make things worse.

Instead, he moved through the streets with a practiced indifference, though his mind raced with the implications of their words. Sirène's presence at the festival had stirred something in the town, something he hadn't anticipated. She had been so careful to remain distant, to observe without drawing too much attention. But even that brief glimpse of her had been enough to raise questions.

As he neared the edge of town, the path sloping down toward the beach, Lyam's thoughts grew darker. He couldn't let them know the truth. No one could know.

The world was not kind to things it didn't understand. He had seen that firsthand—how rumors could spiral into fear, and fear into anger. If anyone in the town discovered that Sirène wasn't human, that she was something otherworldly, it wouldn't take long for suspicion to turn to hostility. They would call her dangerous, a threat. They might try to hunt her down, drive her away from the shores, or worse.

He reached the lagoon and felt a wave of relief as the sound of the waves filled his ears, drowning out the noise of the town behind him. The water was calm today, the surface smooth and shimmering under the morning light. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine Sirène emerging from the water, her silver eyes meeting his with that same quiet curiosity.

But she didn't come.

It had only been a few days since their last encounter, but already, he felt her absence like a missing piece of himself. The connection he had with her—though strange and tenuous—had grown stronger with every meeting, every conversation. And now, the town's prying eyes felt like a threat to that fragile bond.

He sat on the rocks by the shore, his thoughts heavy. He had to be careful. Even in casual conversation, he couldn't let anything slip. No one could know what Sirène was. Not the people at the market, not the fishermen who occasionally saw him by the shore, not even the few acquaintances he had in town. Sirène's safety depended on his silence.

The festival had been a risk—he saw that now. Bringing her into the heart of the town, where so many eyes could see her, had exposed them both. But he couldn't regret it. Not after seeing the wonder in her eyes as she had wandered through the stalls, touched by the joy and the warmth of a human celebration. That night had been as much for her as it had been for him, a rare moment of shared happiness.

But it couldn't happen again. Not like that.

He would have to be more cautious now. He would visit the lagoon, as he always did, and wait for her to appear. But he would have to make sure no one noticed. The townspeople were already suspicious enough—if they started asking more questions, following him down to the shore, it could put Sirène in danger.

Lyam ran a hand through his windblown hair, frustration gnawing at him. He hadn't asked for this—this strange, secret connection to a creature of the sea. But now that it had happened, he couldn't let anything happen to her. He had to protect her, even if that meant keeping his distance from the rest of the town.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Lyam stood, brushing the sand from his clothes. He would return to the town, keep up appearances, act as if nothing had changed. But in his heart, he knew everything had. He was no longer just the reclusive man who wandered the cliffs. He was something more now—something tied to Sirène and the sea in a way that couldn't be explained to anyone.

The whispers in town would continue, but he wouldn't let them become more than that. Sirène's existence had to remain a mystery. For her sake, and for his.

With one last glance at the still waters of the lagoon, Lyam turned and began the slow walk back to town, his mind already turning over the lies he would tell, the secrets he would keep. The town would watch him, as they always did. But they would never know the truth.

Not if he could help it.