an origin story / osian + sidney
*italics denote swedish havman dialect
Sidney + Fen stopped at the mouth of the Seine that feed into the English Channel. Above them steamed pass war ships and small fishing boats. The cousins were treading only 20 feet below the waterâs surface; enough depth where they did not get caught up in fishing nets but the sun still broke on the surface and shone down on the iridescent fins on the havman.
âFucking Ranâs tits.â Sidney swore, staring up at the boats above. His melodic voice made it sound prettier than the words itself.
âAre you sure you want to do this, brother?â Fen sung back, little bubbles popped on their way up to the surface. His eyes traveled to Sidney, whose face was wrought with disgust. Fen had noticed that since the attack in the North Sea, taking out an entire Selkie colony, Sid had been on a mission to take the Siren Maliceâs mission a step farther than anyone else. As a general, he had the ability to do so. But Fen knew that where his cousin wanted go, theyâre may be no way back. Â
âNever been sure of anything in my life.â Sidney jolted ahead, leaving a small wake behind. Fen followed in silence. He made sure to keep his mind blank, so Sid would no hear him.
The cousins swam up the Seine inland towards Paris. Sid swam fast; Fen was always a fathom behind.
He waited for Fen to catch up before speaking in his mind. âThere seems to be a clearing around this bend.â Fen nodded, still keeping his mind blank. They swam a few more fathoms before breaking surface. The first breath of air burned like swallowing white hot coals. But seconds after their gills settled into their neck, their human lungs welcomed the oxygen rich air.
Sidney + Fen quickly swamp to shore and lifted himself out of the water. As their legs pulled away from their fins, they were able to walk upright, naked. The Parisian countryside was still even being 15 miles from the war front. All except the dirt lane was blanked in a soft snow. A pang of home sickness washed over Sidney, but he swallowed it down. His task was set before him.
The naked mermen procured a pair of trousers and thick knitted sweaters. Merfolk were accustomed to colder climates. The winter wind would not affect them like mortals. As they made their way into town, they bartered for a coach to taxi them to the Demonic Estate.