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A cry escapes you, reverberating against the ice floes above and echoing back into your ears. The desperate and pained voice sounds foreign to you, and your eyes search your body, catching sight of a large harpoon sticking out your tail, dangerously close to your belly.
Panic surges through you and you submit to your nature, thrashing in a desperate attempt to rid your body of the invader. You shouldn’t have ventured from your pod. You were foolish, sacrificing your life for a moment of solace. Your jerky movements spread the thick rope through the water, giving you space enough to reach the weapon with your fingers. Beginning to tug, you hiss, your brain turning foggy with pain.
What began as a thin stream of red has evolved into a pool, clouding the otherwise clear water surrounding you. The large, neat puncture in your fin splits with your meddling. An otherwise clean injury turns ragged as unpracticed and frantic hands continue pulling at it. Bits of metal peak out of your skin, revealing the back end of the assaulter. You’re almost there, one more pull and you can swim back to your pod for help. You brace yourself, grip tightening around the shaft of the harpoon.
Around you, the water shifts rapidly, lazy ropes slice through the calm as their master pulls them taught. You scream as unsuspecting tools become savage. The industrial ropes cinch you in. Your dorsal fin compresses, bending unnaturally to touch your side. One pectoral fin is pinned, and on the other side, your arm is forced against your stomach. Red continues to color your view as the pressure around your tail urges blood flow toward your wound.
Doing what you should have in the first place, you grab the rope that continues to pull you toward the sky. You drag your head up towards it, ignoring the harpoon that continues to protrude from your tail and begin biting. Years of eating plankton and other small creatures have yet to sharpen your teeth. However, their sheer size and strength allow you to bite down, severing the thick rope like a brittle bone.
The rope snaps back, and you find yourself floating downwards, lying prone. In your haste to escape the looming threat of the surface, you have twisted yourself up further. Despite one end not connecting to anything, it is tucked this way and that, creating a labyrinth across your body. You reach toward the closest length and tug at it. It doesn’t budge, instead sending a sharp pain across your back as a different part digs further in.
As you drift away from the surface, so does your consciousness. You land on the ocean floor, sand stirring at the disruption. You watch the ice floes above, sunlight peeking through between each shard. Exhaustion overtakes you, whatever adrenaline urging you to fight, disappearing in a burst.
It won’t be a comfortable death. The ropes rub against your skin, leaving angry red lines. The harpoon is still lodged in your tail, albeit loosely. If you weren’t so tired, you might be able to pull it out and slash your bindings.
However, the blood seeping from you has caused your vision to blur, and the ropes surrounding you have begun cutting off circulation, making your hands feel numb. You try to flex one but are met with a weak grasp, your sharp nails barely grazing your palm, when they do, you don’t recognize the sensation. You press your nail further in, trying to snap yourself out of this state.
Your eyes have a different idea. They grow heavy and begin to flutter shut. You’re caught between sleep and your lucid state for what feels like an eternity. Every time you think you might find peace in the warmth of your mind, your eyes snap open, only to begin their descent once more.
Your heavy gaze takes in the open water. As you begin the cycle again, a splash of red draws your attention.
More awake than you’ve been since hitting the ground, you watch a form swim closer to you. A halo of fins decorates the creature’s head, black fading into a sunset of warmth. You meet a dual-colored gaze and hold it, taking a moment to process what is nearing you.
You don’t get much time before the orca siren is upon you. In any other circumstance, you would not be cowering. But here— wrapped in a cage of ropes, you feel like a piece of carrion. A veritable feast for any hungry creature, and the worst one has already found you.
In your fragile state, you attempt to struggle once more, mustering up the last of your strength to disrupt the sand underneath you. Your heart beats rapidly and you can taste the blood in your throat. Though, that metallic taste may just be from the surrounding water.
Hands fall onto your tail, poorly attempting to calm your writhing self. “Hush darling,” the orca siren coos. “It will all be over soon.”
Panic spreads once again at those words. Was he going to be the one to kill you? How cruel the ocean was. Skewered by poachers only to be torn apart by another siren. You could only pray that his claws were sharp enough to make it fast.
You choke back a sob, the sound reverberating in the back of your throat. You resign yourself to your fate, praying that the siren above you will be merciful.
“You’re being so good,” he croons. The portion of the rope trapping your pectoral fin goes limp. Then, the tightness around your tail is gone. All that remains from the ambush is the weapon sticking out of your lower body.
You raise your head, curiosity getting the better of you. It’s a relief to have feeling back in your extremities. However, removing the harpoon will not be as simple a task.
You watch your savior place clawed hands along the shaft of the weapon. Black knuckles whiten as he grips it firmly.
“Wait—!” A loud wail escapes you. You instinctively curl into yourself, desperate to protect your aching wound.
The cold metal hurts more leaving your body than it did impaling you. You can feel the barbed edges tearing through muscle and skin, and for a moment you debate giving into the nothingness that calls for you. Sobs wrack your body, disturbing the fresh injury that the orca siren has inflicted with cruel precision.
Everything hurts. Your brain is a muddled cloud of all the worst emotions. Pain leaves you stranded, unable to flee: Fear forces blood through your body and past the ragged gash: Paranoia has you wary of your rescuer, keeping you alert through the agony of being skewered.
You whimper under his touch, desperate to keep your weakness to yourself. At this moment, with the pale, cold ocean surrounding you and a predator as your only comfort, you feel so small.
It doesn’t matter that you’re twice the size of him. You know, that if he sees fit, he will put you out of your misery. His claws will be as, if not more efficient than the harpoon was. Still, you foolishly hope that if he chooses to put you down, he will be more merciful than the poachers above.
You’ve seen others in your pod fall. The death of such a large creature creates opportunities and life. With your tail still seeping red, you recognize the situation for what it is. Without intervention, you will decay under the water’s careful watch. Your body will rot upon the ocean floor and become a grand banquet for anyone who finds it. That’s the way it goes for your species.
You shudder, thoughts caught between pain and fear. Everything is ending so early. You aren’t ready. There are so many songs stuck in your throat, aching for release.
The orca hushes you, a melody forming on his lips. Your wound aches for a moment more before the feeling of pain is gone entirely. When you meet his eyes, he seems pleased at your reaction.
“See,” he speaks, all worry. “You’re alright. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Eclipse?” You mutter, your voice betraying how tired you are. While no longer in physical pain, your dread keeps your breathing stilted. You find it hard to calm yourself with such dire stakes.
“It’s me, darling,” he speaks. His forehead finds yours.
“Stay with me. Please.”
He combs a hand through your hair, nose still touching yours. “I have to go. I have to find your pod.”
You sniffle, leaning into his touch, his warmth. “I don’t want to die alone.”
“Hush,” he commands. “You’re not dying. I need to get your pod. They will heal you.”
“I’m scared Eclipse, I wasn’t thinking I—“
“I will sing for you, and you will rest.”
Despite your arms feeling like weights, you drag them upwards, wrapping them around Eclipse. He returns the sentiment, wrapping his own around one of your biceps and holding you. “Please don’t leave me,” you drift off, burying your head in the crook of his shoulders.
His facial fins brush your cheek as he nuzzles you. “I won’t darling, I won’t.” His dark tail wraps around yours, curling over the wound as if to stop any more blood from leaving you.
You relax into him, A lulling melody drifts through the open water. His unearthly voice provides comfort in your dread. As you shut your eyes, you remember your days as a calf. The way your mother would flip upside down and drift through the waves as you rested atop her stomach. She would always sing to you. There was a special magic in her voice, one that you haven’t experienced since grown.
Perhaps it is the comfort of gentle arms. Or maybe your death is making you nostalgic, but for a moment, you can feel it again. Eclipse wraps around you, his tail resting heavily on yours. He sings a low note that pulses with the tide. With your own voice, weak from exhaustion, you mimic him. The intertwined harmonies envelop you. There is safety. There is comfort. There is rest.
While your eyes shut, you feel a clawed finger trace your cheek. Something shifts out of your grasp, but you’re too spent to fight against it.
“I am going to fix you. Be good while I’m gone.”
You catch one final glimpse of black and white fins swimming away, taking their song with them.
–
It is a cold day. The ice floes above drift closer, threatening to freeze together as the sun dips further below the horizon. Earlier in the day, you chose to temporarily abandon your pod.
With days becoming shorter and nights becoming colder, the men you travel with are doing their best to parade themselves around. You aren’t much interested in their grandstanding. Even so, they are persistent. You could barely excuse yourself long enough to escape.
The quiet is a relief, something you have been longing for since migration began. You float silently, allowing the tides to push you this way and that. You will return to your pod once night hits, but for now, you are content to be by your lonesome.
The only company you have are the streaks of light shining through cracks in the ice. You shut your eyes, idling blowing bubbles from parted lips. As the last bubble travels upwards, you follow it up, until you’re at the underside of an ice floe.
You shift slightly, positioning yourself between the cracks of two, and poke your head into the frosty air. Your warm breath forms clouds in front of your eyes. You smile a bit and exhale again, this time more purposefully.
You push yourself up further, allowing your elbows to rest on the ice as you take in your surroundings. Deciding this to be a good enough spot, you rest your head on the snow, savoring the cold on your cheek. The ice floe drifts with its brothers and sisters, bumping into one ever now and then. You use your large tail to nudge yourself away so that the floes can continue their criss-cross pattern.
You’re unsure how long you drift. One cheek enjoys the coolness of the ground while the other warms in the fading sunlight. The artic steals your breath, but you don’t mind. Not when everything is so peaceful.
A low growl interrupts the silence of the afternoon. You raise your head, curious eyes scanning the landscape for the noise. There, in the distance, a leopard seal stands on a small sheet of ice. It shifts from flipper to flipper, eyes never leaving the water. You watch with rapt attention as a black dorsal fin slices through the air.
A grimace spreads on your lips. Just as soon as a clawed hand digs into the seal’s small floe, you push yourself up from your resting position. An orca siren. You feel your blood boil. You aren’t keen to pick fights, however, you do relish in ruining a predator's dinner.
The black-and-white sirens have a nasty habit of causing trouble with your kind. Your pod has lost one too many calves to the creatures. Your fingers dig into the snow. An image of your mother defending you from the very same type of predator flashes behind your eyes.
They may be aggressive, but you are much larger.
As the siren pulls himself up, the seal takes the chance to dive off the drifting ice, opposite where its enemy has emerged. You follow suit, sinking into the cold ocean after it. The seal is already heading your way when you find it in the water. You start to close the distance with your powerful tail, keen on saving the small mammal from the orca’s hungry maw. However, the siren is close behind.
He’s large– or, as large as something can be when compared to you. Sharp eyes meet yours, and he grins, tilting his head curiously. You glare back, continuing the race toward the seal. He seems to take that as a challenge. His smile only spreads and he takes off, leaving a trail of bubbles in his wake.
The seal practically slams into you. You wrap an arm around its middle and do the only thing you can to keep it from the hungry siren. You flip onto your back, your face and stomach breaching with the seal in tow. The glistening white of ice blinds you for a second, but as you regain your senses you can feel the seal shifting nervously.
You can feel the other siren below you, circling impatiently. You blink a few times, taking a deep breath. Why had he looked at you like that? Like you were the meal. After a few moments, the seal decides it’s safe enough to relax. It lowers its head to rest on your midsection. Tired eyes look at you and you raise a hand, patting the top of its head. Everything is going to be ok.
Now, you just need to find a place to drop the seal. You look around, trying to spot an ice floe that is wide enough that the orca siren won’t be able to reach it. In the distance, something better emerges. A large ice shelf tapers off into its island-esq counterparts. If you can get the seal there, you can keep the siren back long enough for it to reach land.
You put a bit more effort into your swimming, urging yourself towards the landmass. You bump into a large sheet of ice, grabbing at it to keep yourself steady. The seal raises its head, nostrils flaring as it looks from you to safety. You gesture with your head and it stands, hopping off of your stomach.
A small smile decorates your lips and you give the creature a small wave. It barks in response then scurries off further inland, away from the danger of the shoreline.
In your joy, you had forgotten about the siren pursuing its meal. Your smile tightens as a claw rakes itself over your tail fin.
You duck under the water, coming face to face with the orca siren. He’s still smiling, however, it seems tighter, more frustrated.
“Happy day,” He rumbles, voice striking an ominous chord. “My my, you are quite the naughty thing aren’t you?”
Your tail whips under you, stirring the water threateningly. “Leave. There’s nothing here for you.”
Sharp eyes travel the length of your body, drinking you in. “Yes, it seems you have chased off my meal.” He swims a circle around you. You remain still, refusing to engage in whatever game he’s playing. “How do you intend to repay me?”
You laugh, the sound echoing up into the garden of ice then back down. He freezes behind you, warm hands settling on your shoulders. You turn your head to look at him. His facial fins brush against your hair.
“Repay you?” You repeat. “What a ridiculous idea.” His grip tightens and you can feel his tail wrap around your own like a net capturing its prey.
He hums, sharp fingers tracing circles into the back of your neck. You debate flinging him off of you. It would be a simple matter. He’s small enough that a sharp flick of your tail would be enough to detach him. “I am Eclipse. Who are you?”
You grab at his hands, trying to get him to let go. He only curls further around you, teeth resting dangerously close to your neck. You huff, a flurry of bubbles escaping your nose. When he shows no sign of loosening, you begin to writhe, trying to squirm away from his grip.
You don’t want to hurt him. You only want to end this conversation. The light is beginning to fade and you want to rejoin your pod before it turns dark.
He tuts, using a finger to guide your face in his direction. “Be good, darling. Tell me your name.”
You catch his arm, your large palm dwarfing his wrist. Dangerous eyes find yours, and in an instant, his gaze becomes adoring. “You’re magnificent.”
You blink a couple of times in shock. “What?” The two of you twist around each other. His tail cinches yours, and your arm guides him in an unconventional waltz.
“Even more so with that expression”
Finally, you shove Eclipse off of you. He drifts back, patiently floating in the open water as you gather yourself.
You search the area, there’s nowhere to hide from this conversation. “Where is your pod?” You ask.
He resumes his dance, observing you like the hungry predator he is. “Where is yours?”
“They’re close. I have to return to them soon.”
Eclipse hums, nearing you once again. He stays towards the front of you this time, angling his head up to regard you. “But they are not here now?”
Your lips purse. What does he want? Why is he asking you all these questions? Surely he’s not sizing you up as a replacement for the meal he lost. You will not go down without a fight. Despite the sharpness of his teeth, you will be the one who leaves alive.
“No. I needed a moment alone.”
“How strange. You willingly separate from your pod? Is there not safety in numbers?”
Your tail flicks under you, recognizing the thinly veiled threat. It’s time for you to make an exit. “I have to go now.” You are not a calf anymore. The siren’s words will not rattle you. If he wanted to attack you, he would’ve already made his move.
Instead, he has been trailing touches along you, leaving scratches on your waist and shoulders. The scrapes have been deep enough that you can feel them in the moment, but not violent enough to draw blood. The only dangerous thing about the siren appears to be his words.
He swims up so the two of you are face to face. His hand brushes against a stray hair clinging to your cheek. Eclipse wraps the strand around his finger, creating a slight pull against your scalp. You attempt to swat him away, and for a moment you’re successful, that is, until he reappears behind you.
“Trying to leave without giving me your name?” He simpers. “How disappointing.”
“What will I get in return?”
Eclipse rests his head atop yours, lazily dragging his fingers through your hair. “You brave thing,” he growls. “You already deprived me of a meal. What more do you want?”
You roll your eyes. “What are you doing here? Hunting apart from your pod?”
He sighs, the sound a symphonic melody. “Much too sad a story for this occasion. You will have to excuse me if I don’t feel like sharing. Perhaps when I see you again.”
You blanch, looking up at him. He floats further away, forcing you to crane your head as he nears the surface. “What do you mean?”
“Will you tell me your name?” Eclipse’s tail twitches eagerly behind him.
You finally resign, your name spilling from your mouth.
He tastes it, regarding the word with a reverence you’ve never heard. A low rumble escapes him. When you lock eyes again, his mismatched ones burn with awe and a type of hunger you can’t quite place.
“You are perfect,” he sings with delight.
You pulse with curiosity and trepidation. Yet, underneath you can feel your own hunger gnawing at you. “I am leaving now. Goodbye, Eclipse.” You turn your back to him, beginning your escape back to the turbulence of your pod.
He doesn’t move, content to watch you with a face-splitting grin. “I will see you again. Will you search for me?”
Every impulse screams for you to say no. You look over your shoulder and he meets your gaze, his keen eyes already expecting it. In your gut, you can feel his intent. Whether or not you desire it, he will do as he says. He will pursue you in any way he knows how. It’s simply a matter of you pursuing him in turn.
“Perhaps,” you say simply. You will not give him the satisfaction of an exact answer. If you come across him hunting, you will no doubt do your best to save whatever prey he is after. If he comes across your pod, there will surely be a fight. Either way, future interactions will not be as pleasant as this one.
Still, those thoughts don’t stop the warmth of his tail from ghosting around yours as you make your way home.
–
A lilting lullaby pulls you back. When you open your eyes, Eclipse is resting atop your chest. His hand curls around your jaw, sharp fingers tracing along the bottom of it.
You can hear the smile in his voice, “You’re being so good. Your pod is almost here.”
You bring your hand up to him, cradling his face with your palm. He leans into the touch, practically melting at the contact. Your tired eyes crinkle fondly and you let out a content hum.
“You will have to leave when they get here,” You say, stroking your thumb over his cheek.
Eclipse reaches a hand up to hold yours. “They will have to accept that I am staying. I will protect my own.”
A slight laugh escapes you, you wince as it jostles your wound. “When did I agree to that?”
“When you were foolish enough to get skewered by a harpoon.” He narrows his eyes. “I see that I can no longer allow you to leave my sight.”
“My pod won’t be happy.”
“Then I will have to make it clear to them that you are mine.” Eclipse settles on you, resting his head near your neck. “There is nothing I won’t do to have you.”
You nuzzle into him, reveling in the feeling of his fins brushing across your cheek and forehead. “Thank you Eclipse… For saving me. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn–”
He shushes you and curls his tail around your hips, cradling you in the only way he can. You wrap your arms around him in turn, shutting your eyes as sleep once again takes hold.
“It is time for you to rest again. I will be here when you wake. Sleep, darling.”
You obey, curling further around Eclipse as his singing resumes. Gentle claws run through your hair, soothing your mind as the ocean carries your consciousness away.