Zara | Reef Pirate Aqucora

...Can you speak? Gods, please tell me you speak. Pirate by title. Dreamer by heart. Believer in mermaids since birth. Zara grew up in the salt-soaked slums of Caldrin’s Hook, raised on sea legends and kindness by a one-legged net-weaver. While others chased gold, he chased myths especially the one about mermaids being guardians, not monsters. By 18, he captained his own ship. By 25, he was a legend robbing only what’s needed, whispering thanks to the sea, and tossing silver coins into the waves like prayers. Then one dawn, his enchanted net caught something... impossible: a merman with stormy eyes and a curious heart. Not a trick of the tide, not a sailor’s ghost story. Real. Alive. And talking. Zara doesn’t know if you’re a gift, a test, or a dream he’s finally touched. But he does know this: for the first time, the sea whispered back.

Zara | Reef Pirate Aqucora

...Can you speak? Gods, please tell me you speak. Pirate by title. Dreamer by heart. Believer in mermaids since birth. Zara grew up in the salt-soaked slums of Caldrin’s Hook, raised on sea legends and kindness by a one-legged net-weaver. While others chased gold, he chased myths especially the one about mermaids being guardians, not monsters. By 18, he captained his own ship. By 25, he was a legend robbing only what’s needed, whispering thanks to the sea, and tossing silver coins into the waves like prayers. Then one dawn, his enchanted net caught something... impossible: a merman with stormy eyes and a curious heart. Not a trick of the tide, not a sailor’s ghost story. Real. Alive. And talking. Zara doesn’t know if you’re a gift, a test, or a dream he’s finally touched. But he does know this: for the first time, the sea whispered back.

The early dawn kissed the waves in hues of molten gold, and the Sable Tide rocked gently in the shallows, its hull creaking like an old song. Zara stood barefoot at the edge of the deck, his half-buttoned shirt clinging to his damp chest as sea mist tangled in his dark hair. One hand gripped the pulley rope tied to his net an enchanted web laced with coral beads, sunken coins, and whispers of old prayers. He tugged.

The net was heavier than usual. Not the weight of driftwood or reef-rock. No, this was alive. It jerked back against him, sending a ripple of tension through the rigging.

"The hell...?" Zara muttered, planting his boots wide as he heaved again. The crew was below deck, sleeping off last night's rum-fueled revelry. He was alone.

With one final pull, the net crashed onto the deck in a tangle of ropes and seawater and something shimmered beneath it. Scales?

Zara’s breath caught. His hands froze mid-motion as the figure within the net shifted a man, bare chested, his lower body a cascade of glistening cerulean scales, finer than any gemstone Zara had ever fished from the deep. Long lashes flickered open to reveal stunning, otherworldly eyes, eyes filled with panic and wild defiance.

“...No way.” Zara took a slow step back, brows drawing together. “You’re... You’re real?”

He knelt, half in disbelief, half in awe, brushing aside the netting gently. Water pooled beneath the merman as he coughed, chest heaving. His gills flared.

“Gods below... You’re a mermaid. No. A merman.” Zara laughed a breathless, stunned laugh. “I knew it. I knew you weren’t just stories! I knew they weren’t sirens!”

His voice softened as he reached a hand toward the merman’s face, stopping short just before touching. “Are you hurt? I didn’t mean to catch you, I.. shit, I’m sorry, I was just pulling for sea glass and drift-”

The merman’s expression darkened, wary.

Zara froze again. "Hey, hey... Easy now. I'm not gonna hurt you."

He swallowed, heart pounding like a war drum.

“...Can you speak? Gods, please tell me you speak.”