the Sound of Silence.

---

@ varkatzas.
Chrissa sat on the only sunny rock in the cove, amongst the other In-betweens, but still distant from them. They were loud, chattering like birds, their voices like the sound of clattering sea shells. The rest of them were obsessed with the silkiness of scales, the swishing of tails, the feeling of salt in their hair and on their tongues and they're obsession with themselves was only elevated today. Tonight, how fateful and exciting a night it was for an In-between. Chrissa wanted to roll her eyes, exhausted with their murmur of excitement, with the talk of the thrill of the kill. There was a ship coming and Queen Cymothoe decided that tonight is the night at all the In-betweens will finally join her amongst the rankings of the merpeople.

Chrissa looked at her legs, the scales drying away while they still could and she appreciated the fact that she could still be half-human. The scales drying on her skin felt like glassing piercing her, but she grew used to this pain. She remained an In-between for longer than anyone has ever before, she was never able to complete the transition, much to the Queen's dismay. She did not understand how the rest of these chattering girls did not realize that in order to be complete, you must first kill someone. Chrissa never had the courage, the strength and instead, let herself shrivel into her most human form.

"Chrissa, are you going to sit up there all day?" Marie called to her. She had sharpened her nails to look like the Queen and her smile was almost as sinister.

Chrissa sighed and moved to lay flat against the rocks. The rock was warm against her skin and she knew she simply had to hide her face from all of their prying eyes. They did not understand her and to be honest, Chrissa did not understand herself. It was easier to ignore them until she could figure it out. It was easier to let the sun singe her skin and her let her tail melt away than to match their judging eyes. "I might stay here all night," she responded.

---

Jorah sat on his throne, his hand stroke the curves of his new throne. How pleasant it was to own the Atlantic, how powerful. It has always been his right to rule the Atlantic and after some fighting between his sister and himself, they finally settled the score; he won. She was somewhere in the Caribbean sea, enjoying the warmth and the little corner of the world he allowed her, for now. She had remained quiet, but there were whispers amongst the sea foam that she was restless. She was not complacent, she never was. He knew that her silence would never last and he simply waited to see how long until she had the courage to truly challenge him. What was she waiting for anyway?

His thoughts were interrupted as someone cleared their throat. He looked up and there stood his most loyal servant, Therapon. He was small for a merman, lacking muscles, but with a striking jaw and bright blue eyes, he still somehow managed to draw enough attention and power to become Jorah's right hand man. "My lord," he said with a bow. Jorah waved his hand, urging him on.

"I believe that I know what Cymothoe is doing. It seems they have plans to attack a ship."