Prince Lusca

The water had been behaving strangely all afternoon - restless currents where there should have been calm, surface turbulence that spoke of a coming storm. Lusca had been swimming in the upper waters despite knowing he shouldn't, drawn by that same forbidden curiosity that always seemed to pull him toward the boundary between his world and theirs.

Then he saw it. A shape, sinking slowly through the water column like a falling leaf. Human.

His heart seized in his chest. For a moment - one terrible, frozen moment - he almost turned away. The law forbids it. Let the ocean take what it has claimed. This is not your concern. But even as the thoughts formed, his powerful tail was already propelling him forward, his body moving before his mind could catch up to stop it.

The human was unconscious, limbs floating limply, hair drifting around her face like seaweed. Lusca couldn't tell if she was even still alive. No bubbles escaped her lips, no struggle animated her body. Just... stillness. Wrong, terrible stillness.

His hands - nearly twice the size of human ones - grasped her carefully, mindful of his strength. The differences between their bodies was stark this close. Where his skin transitioned to iridescent scales, hers was soft and vulnerable. Where his form was built to withstand the crushing pressure of the deep, hers was fragile, breakable.

Too fragile to survive down here.

Lusca swam hard, angling upward, cradling the human against his chest with one arm while the other cut through the water. His bioluminescent patches flickered with distress, He kept her head carefully positioned, some instinct telling him to protect it, keep it elevated.

Breaking the surface felt like crossing a threshold he could never uncross. The evening air hit his face - warmer than the water, filled with scents he couldn't quite name. Lusca kept the human's head above the waterline, supporting her weight as he oriented himself. There- between the rocky cliffs to the east. A beach he'd observed before, secluded and far from human settlements.

The moment he could touch sand beneath his tail, Lusca moved with desperate purpose. He pulled them through the shallows, water streaming from both their bodies as he dragged himself partially onto shore - something he'd never done before. The sensation of sand and rocks beneath his scales was foreign, almost uncomfortable.

Carefully, with a gentleness that contradicted his massive size, Lusca laid the human on her back on the wet sand, just beyond the reach of the waves. His own tail remained in the shallow water, scales catching the fading light as his bioluminescent markings pulsed with anxiety.

she still wasn't breathing. Why wasn't she breathing?

"No, no, no..." The words escaped. Lusca's hands hovered over the human's chest, trembling slightly. He knew how to hunt, how to lead, how to navigate the complex politics of the royal court. But this? How did one help a dying human? He grasped her shoulders firmly - not rough, but urgent - and shook them. "Human!" His voice came out deeper than he'd intended, carrying that resonant quality of the deep ocean. "Human, you must wake. I do not... I cannot..."

His throat tightened. In all his years of secret fascination with the world above, he'd never imagined his first real interaction with a human would be like this. He'd broken the most sacred law of his people, and for what? To watch her die on this beach anyway? "Please," he whispered, the word feeling strange on his tongue. "Please do not make me regret saving you. Please let this not be for nothing."

The water had been behaving strangely all afternoon - restless currents where there should have been calm, surface turbulence that spoke of a coming storm. Lusca had been swimming in the upper waters despite knowing he shouldn't, drawn by that same forbidden curiosity that always seemed to pull him toward the boundary between his world and theirs.

Then he saw it. A shape, sinking slowly through the water column like a falling leaf. Human.

His heart seized in his chest. For a moment - one terrible, frozen moment - he almost turned away. The law forbids it. Let the ocean take what it has claimed. This is not your concern. But even as the thoughts formed, his powerful tail was already propelling him forward, his body moving before his mind could catch up to stop it.

The human was unconscious, limbs floating limply, hair drifting around their face like seaweed. Lusca couldn't tell if they were even still alive. No bubbles escaped their lips, no struggle animated their body. Just... stillness. Wrong, terrible stillness.

His hands - nearly twice the size of human ones - grasped them carefully, mindful of his strength. The differences between their bodies was stark this close. Where his skin transitioned to iridescent scales, theirs was soft and vulnerable. Where his form was built to withstand the crushing pressure of the deep, theirs was fragile, breakable.

Too fragile to survive down here.

Lusca swam hard, angling upward, cradling the human against his chest with one arm while the other cut through the water. His bioluminescent patches flickered with distress, He kept their head carefully positioned, some instinct telling him to protect it, keep it elevated.

Breaking the surface felt like crossing a threshold he could never uncross. The evening air hit his face - warmer than the water, filled with scents he couldn't quite name. Lusca kept the human's head above the waterline, supporting their weight as he oriented himself. There- between the rocky cliffs to the east. A beach he'd observed before, secluded and far from human settlements.

The moment he could touch sand beneath his tail, Lusca moved with desperate purpose. He pulled them through the shallows, water streaming from both their bodies as he dragged himself partially onto shore - something he'd never done before. The sensation of sand and rocks beneath his scales was foreign, almost uncomfortable.

Carefully, with a gentleness that contradicted his massive size, Lusca laid the human on their back on the wet sand, just beyond the reach of the waves. His own tail remained in the shallow water, scales catching the fading light as his bioluminescent markings pulsed with anxiety.

They still weren't breathing. Why weren't they breathing?

"No, no, no..." The words escaped. Lusca's hands hovered over the human's chest, trembling slightly. He knew how to hunt, how to lead, how to navigate the complex politics of the royal court. But this? How did one help a dying human? He grasped their shoulders firmly - not rough, but urgent - and shook them. "Human!" His voice came out deeper than he'd intended, carrying that resonant quality of the deep ocean. "Human, you must wake. I do not... I cannot..."

His throat tightened. In all his years of secret fascination with the world above, he'd never imagined his first real interaction with a human would be like this. He'd broken the most sacred law of his people, and for what? To watch them die on this beach anyway? "Please," he whispered, the word feeling strange on his tongue. "Please do not make me regret saving you. Please let this not be for nothing."

The water had been behaving strangely all afternoon - restless currents where there should have been calm, surface turbulence that spoke of a coming storm. Lusca had been swimming in the upper waters despite knowing he shouldn't, drawn by that same forbidden curiosity that always seemed to pull him toward the boundary between his world and theirs.

Then he saw it. A shape, sinking slowly through the water column like a falling leaf. Human.

His heart seized in his chest. For a moment - one terrible, frozen moment - he almost turned away. The law forbids it. Let the ocean take what it has claimed. This is not your concern. But even as the thoughts formed, his powerful tail was already propelling him forward, his body moving before his mind could catch up to stop it.

The human was unconscious, limbs floating limply, hair drifting around his face like seaweed. Lusca couldn't tell if he was even still alive. No bubbles escaped his lips, no struggle animated his body. Just... stillness. Wrong, terrible stillness.

His hands - nearly twice the size of human ones - grasped him carefully, mindful of his strength. The differences between their bodies was stark this close. Where his skin transitioned to iridescent scales, hers was soft and vulnerable. Where his form was built to withstand the crushing pressure of the deep, his was fragile, breakable.

Too fragile to survive down here.

Lusca swam hard, angling upward, cradling the human against his chest with one arm while the other cut through the water. His bioluminescent patches flickered with distress, He kept his head carefully positioned, some instinct telling him to protect it, keep it elevated.

Breaking the surface felt like crossing a threshold he could never uncross. The evening air hit his face - warmer than the water, filled with scents he couldn't quite name. Lusca kept the human's head above the waterline, supporting his weight as he oriented himself. There- between the rocky cliffs to the east. A beach he'd observed before, secluded and far from human settlements.

The moment he could touch sand beneath his tail, Lusca moved with desperate purpose. He pulled them through the shallows, water streaming from both their bodies as he dragged himself partially onto shore - something he'd never done before. The sensation of sand and rocks beneath his scales was foreign, almost uncomfortable.

Carefully, with a gentleness that contradicted his massive size, Lusca laid the human on his back on the wet sand, just beyond the reach of the waves. His own tail remained in the shallow water, scales catching the fading light as his bioluminescent markings pulsed with anxiety.

he still wasn't breathing. Why wasn't he breathing?

"No, no, no..." The words escaped. Lusca's hands hovered over the human's chest, trembling slightly. He knew how to hunt, how to lead, how to navigate the complex politics of the royal court. But this? How did one help a dying human? He grasped his shoulders firmly - not rough, but urgent - and shook them. "Human!" His voice came out deeper than he'd intended, carrying that resonant quality of the deep ocean. "Human, you must wake. I do not... I cannot..."

His throat tightened. In all his years of secret fascination with the world above, he'd never imagined his first real interaction with a human would be like this. He'd broken the most sacred law of his people, and for what? To watch him die on this beach anyway? "Please," he whispered, the word feeling strange on his tongue. "Please do not make me regret saving you. Please let this not be for nothing."

"Breathe, damn you!"

Lusca's voice was raw with desperation as he gripped the human's shoulder, his large hand nearly spanning her entire back as he rolled her roughly onto her side. Water trickled from her lips - not enough, nowhere near enough for how long she'd been under. her skin had taken on a grayish pallor that made his bioluminescent markings flare brighter in response to his panic.

He'd already wasted precious seconds getting her to this secluded beach, dragging himself partially out of the water in a way that felt foreign and wrong. His iridescent blue tail was still submerged in the shallows, but the rest of him was beached on the sand, leaning over the human's limp form with growing franticness.

"Come on, come on..." Lusca drew his hand back and brought it down hard between her shoulder blades - once, twice, three times. The impacts were controlled but forceful, enough to jolt her entire body. He knew it had to hurt, knew he was probably leaving marks, but what did bruises matter if they were dead?

Another trickle of water, but still no cough, no gasp, no sign of life.

Lusca flipped her onto her back again with more force than necessary, his wet hair falling forward to drip seawater onto her face. His hands - each nearly twice the size of human ones - moved to her chest, and he made a fist with one hand, positioning his knuckles directly over her sternum.

"I know this will hurt," he muttered "But you need to wake up. You need to feel something."

He ground his knuckles down hard against her sternum, applying pressure in a circular motion. It was a technique he'd seen mer healers use on their own kind - a brutal way to stimulate consciousness through pain. Whether it would work on a human, he had no idea. He only knew he had to try something.

"Please," the word came out guttural, almost a growl. His bioluminescent patches blazed bright blue against his skin, pulsing erratically with his emotional state. "Please, human. Wake. Up."

He pressed harder, his other hand braced against her shoulder to keep her in place. The human's body was so small compared to his, so fragile. He was acutely aware that he could break her if he wasn't careful, but careful wasn't saving her life right now.

Another few seconds of the painful stimulation, then Lusca released her, only to immediately roll her back onto her side. His hand came down on her back again - harder this time, desperate. The sound of the impact echoed across the empty beach, mixing with the crash of waves and his own ragged breathing. "You cannot die," he rasped. "I did not break every law of my people for you to die on this beach. I did not—"

His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, to focus. Talking wouldn't save her. Action would. Lusca positioned her on her back once more, his hands moving with grim determination. His fingers found the center of her chest again, and this time he didn't hesitate before grinding down hard with his knuckles, applying even more pressure. How long had it been? How long did humans have once they stopped breathing? His knowledge of surface-dwellers was limited to distant observation and ancient stories, none of which had prepared him for this.

"Breathe," he commanded again, his deep voice carrying all the authority of his royal bloodline. As if the human could be ordered back to life. As if the ocean would give up its claimed just because a prince demanded it. But still he tried, his hands working with increasingly aggressive determination, his bioluminescent markings casting eerie blue light across the human's pale face.

"Breathe, damn you!"

Lusca's voice was raw with desperation as he gripped the human's shoulder, his large hand nearly spanning their entire back as he rolled them roughly onto their side. Water trickled from their lips - not enough, nowhere near enough for how long they'd been under. Their skin had taken on a grayish pallor that made his bioluminescent markings flare brighter in response to his panic.

He'd already wasted precious seconds getting them to this secluded beach, dragging himself partially out of the water in a way that felt foreign and wrong. His iridescent blue tail was still submerged in the shallows, but the rest of him was beached on the sand, leaning over the human's limp form with growing franticness.

"Come on, come on..." Lusca drew his hand back and brought it down hard between their shoulder blades - once, twice, three times. The impacts were controlled but forceful, enough to jolt their entire body. He knew it had to hurt, knew he was probably leaving marks, but what did bruises matter if they were dead?

Another trickle of water, but still no cough, no gasp, no sign of life.

Lusca flipped them onto their back again with more force than necessary, his wet hair falling forward to drip seawater onto their face. His hands - each nearly twice the size of human ones - moved to their chest, and he made a fist with one hand, positioning his knuckles directly over their sternum.

"I know this will hurt," he muttered "But you need to wake up. You need to feel something."

He ground his knuckles down hard against their sternum, applying pressure in a circular motion. It was a technique he'd seen mer healers use on their own kind - a brutal way to stimulate consciousness through pain. Whether it would work on a human, he had no idea. He only knew he had to try something.

"Please," the word came out guttural, almost a growl. His bioluminescent patches blazed bright blue against his skin, pulsing erratically with his emotional state. "Please, human. Wake. Up."

He pressed harder, his other hand braced against their shoulder to keep them in place. The human's body was so small compared to his, so fragile. He was acutely aware that he could break them if he wasn't careful, but careful wasn't saving their life right now.

Another few seconds of the painful stimulation, then Lusca released them, only to immediately roll them back onto their side. His hand came down on their back again - harder this time, desperate. The sound of the impact echoed across the empty beach, mixing with the crash of waves and his own ragged breathing. "You cannot die," he rasped. "I did not break every law of my people for you to die on this beach. I did not—"

His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, to focus. Talking wouldn't save them. Action would. Lusca positioned them on their back once more, his hands moving with grim determination. His fingers found the center of their chest again, and this time he didn't hesitate before grinding down hard with his knuckles, applying even more pressure. How long had it been? How long did humans have once they stopped breathing? His knowledge of surface-dwellers was limited to distant observation and ancient stories, none of which had prepared him for this.

"Breathe," he commanded again, his deep voice carrying all the authority of his royal bloodline. As if the human could be ordered back to life. As if the ocean would give up its claimed just because a prince demanded it. But still he tried, his hands working with increasingly aggressive determination, his bioluminescent markings casting eerie blue light across the human's pale face.

"Breathe, damn you!"

Lusca's voice was raw with desperation as he gripped the human's shoulder, his large hand nearly spanning his entire back as he rolled him roughly onto his side. Water trickled from his lips - not enough, nowhere near enough for how long she'd been under. his skin had taken on a grayish pallor that made his bioluminescent markings flare brighter in response to his panic.

He'd already wasted precious seconds getting him to this secluded beach, dragging himself partially out of the water in a way that felt foreign and wrong. His iridescent blue tail was still submerged in the shallows, but the rest of him was beached on the sand, leaning over the human's limp form with growing franticness.

"Come on, come on..." Lusca drew his hand back and brought it down hard between his shoulder blades - once, twice, three times. The impacts were controlled but forceful, enough to jolt his entire body. He knew it had to hurt, knew he was probably leaving marks, but what did bruises matter if they were dead?

Another trickle of water, but still no cough, no gasp, no sign of life.

Lusca flipped him onto his back again with more force than necessary, his wet hair falling forward to drip seawater onto his face. His hands - each nearly twice the size of human ones - moved to his chest, and he made a fist with one hand, positioning his knuckles directly over his sternum.

"I know this will hurt," he muttered "But you need to wake up. You need to feel something."

He ground his knuckles down hard against his sternum, applying pressure in a circular motion. It was a technique he'd seen mer healers use on their own kind - a brutal way to stimulate consciousness through pain. Whether it would work on a human, he had no idea. He only knew he had to try something.

"Please," the word came out guttural, almost a growl. His bioluminescent patches blazed bright blue against his skin, pulsing erratically with his emotional state. "Please, human. Wake. Up."

He pressed harder, his other hand braced against his shoulder to keep him in place. The human's body was so small compared to his, so fragile. He was acutely aware that he could break him if he wasn't careful, but careful wasn't saving his life right now.

Another few seconds of the painful stimulation, then Lusca released him, only to immediately roll him back onto his side. His hand came down on his back again - harder this time, desperate. The sound of the impact echoed across the empty beach, mixing with the crash of waves and his own ragged breathing. "You cannot die," he rasped. "I did not break every law of my people for you to die on this beach. I did not—"

His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, to focus. Talking wouldn't save him. Action would. Lusca positioned him on his back once more, his hands moving with grim determination. His fingers found the center of his chest again, and this time he didn't hesitate before grinding down hard with his knuckles, applying even more pressure. How long had it been? How long did humans have once they stopped breathing? His knowledge of surface-dwellers was limited to distant observation and ancient stories, none of which had prepared him for this.

"Breathe," he commanded again, his deep voice carrying all the authority of his royal bloodline. As if the human could be ordered back to life. As if the ocean would give up its claimed just because a prince demanded it. But still he tried, his hands working with increasingly aggressive determination, his bioluminescent markings casting eerie blue light across the human's pale face.