A Mermaid for the Lonely

The Weight of Secrets

The days after Sirène's last visit to town passed in a quiet tension that seemed to grow thicker with each passing hour. Lyam had returned to his usual routine—waking up early, working at the docks, and keeping to himself—but things had changed. The townspeople had noticed. Their eyes lingered on him longer than usual, their voices hushed as he passed by. The town was small, and anything out of the ordinary was bound to draw attention.

Lyam had expected some whispers after bringing Sirène to the festival. It was inevitable in a place where everyone knew each other, where strangers were a rarity. But what had started as harmless gossip had quickly grown into something more. People were no longer just curious; they were suspicious.

It started innocuously enough—casual questions from people he barely spoke to. A merchant at the market asked where the girl had gone, trying to hide the nosiness behind a smile. A woman at the bakery, who never usually acknowledged him, suddenly seemed interested in his life, asking who the mysterious beauty was and why she hadn't been seen since that night. At first, Lyam brushed it off with short, vague answers. "She's gone," he would say. "Just passing through."

But it didn't stop. If anything, the questions grew more pointed, the curiosity more pressing. Where did she come from? Why did she leave so quickly? Why did she disappear just as suddenly as she had appeared?

Lyam kept his responses clipped, doing his best to stay calm. But inside, a knot of frustration and unease had begun to form, tightening each time someone cornered him with their prying questions. He didn't know how much longer he could keep his composure.

One evening, after a long day at the docks, Lyam walked home along the winding path that led away from the town square. The sky was a soft, dusky blue, the sea shimmering in the distance as the sun began to sink below the horizon. He had just turned the corner near his small cottage when he heard the voice.

"So, where's the girl now?"

Lyam stopped mid-step, his body tensing. He turned to find a small group of townspeople gathered behind him—three men, their expressions hard and curious. They weren't smiling. This wasn't friendly anymore.

"Gone," Lyam said shortly, turning to walk away.

"Gone where?" one of the men asked, stepping forward. "No one saw her leave."

"That's none of your business," Lyam shot back, his voice steady but laced with irritation.

"People are talking, Lyam," another man added, folding his arms. "You brought her here, and she vanished without a trace. Seems odd, don't you think? A girl like that, just disappearing."

Lyam clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his temper in check. "She's not from here. She left, like I said. That's the end of it."

But the men didn't back off. They exchanged glances, the atmosphere thick with unspoken accusations.

"Maybe it's not the end of it," the first man said, his tone darkening. "People are wondering if you're hiding something. We don't like strangers in this town, and we sure as hell don't like secrets."

Lyam's patience snapped. He turned on them, his hazel-green eyes flashing with anger. "I'm not hiding anything," he growled. "And even if I was, it's none of your concern."

One of the men took a step back, surprised by the intensity in Lyam's voice, but the others held their ground.

"Careful, Lyam," the third man said, his voice low and threatening. "This town's been peaceful for a long time. We'd hate to see trouble come knocking because of some strange girl."

Before Lyam could respond, another voice cut through the tension, rough and authoritative.

"That's enough."

The group turned to see Mikkel, the old sailor, approaching from the shadows. His weathered face was set in a stern expression, his sharp eyes locked on Lyam. The townspeople murmured among themselves before backing off, leaving Mikkel and Lyam standing alone in the street.

Lyam exhaled, his pulse still racing from the confrontation. Mikkel walked slowly toward him, his steps deliberate, each one heavy with the weight of years spent at sea. When he reached Lyam, he didn't speak right away, just studied him in that way only Mikkel could—like he was seeing through to something deeper.

"You're in over your head, boy," Mikkel finally said, his voice gravelly and calm. "Too close to something dangerous."

Lyam's shoulders tensed. He knew what Mikkel was talking about, but he wasn't ready to admit it. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, turning to continue walking home.

But Mikkel wasn't finished. "That girl," he said sharply, stopping Lyam in his tracks. "She's trouble. I've seen things, Lyam. Felt things. You think the sea is just water, but it's not. There's power there, and it's not something to be taken lightly."

Lyam turned back to him, his face hard. "She's not dangerous."

Mikkel raised an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a skeptical frown. "You've always been a good kid, but you're blind to this. Whatever she is, whatever you think she is, the sea has a way of claiming its own. And it doesn't like when humans get involved."

Lyam's stomach twisted, a flicker of unease creeping in. He'd spent enough time with Sirène to know she wasn't just any girl, but he hadn't fully grasped the magnitude of what he was getting involved with. Still, the idea of anyone harming her made his chest tighten with protectiveness.

"She's not from the sea to cause harm," Lyam said, his voice steady but quieter. "She's just—" He stopped, unsure how to describe her without revealing too much.

Mikkel's eyes narrowed. "You don't know that," he said, his voice lowering ominously. "And whether she's a threat or not, you've got people talking. This town's not going to sit by and let something like this go unnoticed. Mark my words, if she comes back, or if you get caught heading down to that cursed shore again, they'll make sure to deal with it—whether you like it or not."

The unspoken threat hung in the air like a knife poised to strike.

"I won't let anyone hurt her," Lyam said quietly, his voice firm with resolve.

Mikkel stared at him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his old, sea-weathered eyes. "You think you can stop it, but you can't," he said softly. "You can't fight the sea, boy. It always wins in the end."

With that, Mikkel turned and walked away, leaving Lyam standing in the street, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

The sky had darkened to a deep navy blue, the stars beginning to twinkle above the town. But Lyam barely noticed. His mind was racing, his heart pounding with a mixture of frustration, fear, and protectiveness. He couldn't shake the image of Sirène—her wide silver eyes, her soft pink hair, the way she looked at him with that quiet curiosity that had slowly wormed its way into his heart.

He couldn't let anything happen to her.

But Mikkel's words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the danger they were both in. The town wouldn't let this go, and if they found out the truth about Sirène—about what she really was—they wouldn't stop until they had driven her away, or worse.

Lyam couldn't let that happen. But he also couldn't keep living in this growing web of lies and suspicions. He had to find a way to protect her, to keep her safe from the world that wanted to tear them apart. And if that meant standing up to the entire town—if it meant facing the sea itself—then so be it.

With a heavy sigh, Lyam made his way back to his small cottage. He couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out, that every moment he spent away from Sirène was a moment closer to losing her forever.

And that was something he could never allow.