The water was a mess. All the peace he’d left around the rocks seemed completely gone now. It was almost fitting. Almost. The turmoil of the water, with the darkness of the night, as if reminding him again things he’d left behind so many, many leagues away. Kuval watched as the water churned beneath, willing himself not to listen to anything the beasts may have to say right now.

Instead he kept himself in that ready position, watching it all. The form of the portal, the first grip and pull as one was hoisted into it. He resisted the urge to lunge forward and lose his head to the hole in curiosity. How did such a think work?? How did he have so very much power?

Everything seemed so beautiful, so grim, in this magick of his. So much blood, so much violence, and yet all of it so very curious. He wanted nothing more than to learn it all right now. Right at this moment… but he had to face the reality that this witch hadn’t even given his name at this point. Likewise, he hadn’t offered up his own secrets either.

“Sometimes it easier to have them,” he answered, wiggling newly formed toes against the stone. Parts of the anatomy still seemed strange to him. With over twenty plus years without, it all seemed superfluous sometimes. Still, he would admit there were parts of it he liked very much. Toes, he’d found, were an unnecessary luxury that he enjoyed plunging into land or water or grass or anything else he could find to enjoy. It was a completely different tactile sensation that he’d grown to love. “I can’t be flopping around the streets, now can I? I’ll end up through your portal just as quickly, I’d say.”

He’d heard rumors, horror stories really, about the things people would do for pieces of creatures like him. Plucking of the scales was a quick one that came to mind. Sometimes he wondered why people didn’t just wait for them to molt naturally. Then they’d be free and painless. He’d have given them up that way, or sold them if he could… but he knew first hand the danger there could be of letting his true self be known.

“I’ve been a few times,” he said with a nod, “These shores have been my home for a while now. It was only natural to venture into the nearest city. I bought a few things even.”

With the latter, Kuval felt a small pride. After all, not everyone could venture into a completely new city, a new culture all together, and come out better for it. It hadn’t been easy and, foolish as he felt now, he quickly learned of how dangerous a city he’d picked as his first to visit. It really was lucky he hadn’t been killed long ago.

Still, he hadn’t been killed… and sometimes something as simple as staying alive was worth having pride in, wasn’t it?

“Why do you ask?”

He sighed,Easier to have them, what a dreadfully boring reason to want legs. Then again, his own served him quite well. Just his eyes lifted up to him, imagining doing just that and putting him through the gate he’d made. It’d be easy…And that hunger showed in his eyes for a split second before returning to their focus in the water. All that was left was the adolescent, but they were so quick, slippery, at their physical peak: they were by far the hardest to nab up.

For this one he would be more patient, but he had one decently draining trick up his sleeve should the moment call for it. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that until he had to swim back, and closing his circle took more than a gather up of items. His hands moved up, pushing his hair back, though a few strands stayed free as he tied it up in a loose knot of a bun. “Honestly, I would have thought you’d been killed at first sight.” It was a simple statement, not meant to jab, but not meant to be tactful either.

He chuckled, “I take it not many know what you are then? That would be precious information, wouldn’t it?” There were a few things listing off in his head already that he could make good use of, things that the maiden he had was simply unable to provide. Finally he saw her, beautiful and ruthless in the water, it would be a shame to kill her but she’d bring him great fortune…He already knew the place of respect he’d keep her jaws.

His athame was warm in his fingers and he tossed it back and forth between his hands, breathing out slowly and then back in deeply as he readied himself. Hopefully he wouldn’t lose a limb. Again. They weren’t fun to reattach and usually he had to get help with that, not pleasant when you preferred working alone. Her tail swished quickly as she snapped towards another that had drawn too close, and in the starts of their brawl he took advantage of the situation.

With movements so abrupt that a couple flinched their attention, he put nearly the entirety of his top half into the water; legs spreading wide on the stone to keep his balance. All around him under the water were shiny black eyes, their energy became one amidst the water,and had he been able to he would have relished in it. That being said, he had work to do, and quickly wrapped his arms around her; gripping his own wrist and nudging the edge of his blade against one of her gills before using all the strength his core would allow to bring himself out of the water.

Air filled his lungs in deep gasps as he hadn’t taken the time to grant the ability to breathe underwater this time, and it was all he could do to fight her strength. She twisted violently in his arms and he laughed, near cackled with pride as he squeezed tighter and turned her into the gate head first. Once it was done he flopped on the stone, weak, near spent, but smiling…oddly peacefully, near lovingly.

“Yes, well. Personality doesn’t always equal naivety,” Kuval noted. It wasn’t uncommon for people to think him empty or unintelligent. The truth of it was, he knew better than many things. He was smart enough to know how to handle himself, and strong… He could hold his own. It was almost an advantage, at times. People underestimated him in more ways than one.

That being noted, he still knew that there were many who could get the better of him. This man, for instance, with his hungry eyes… It was incredibly obvious that the two should not be set so close together. Kuval knew beyond a doubt that he was anything but safe. This was a giant risk. The witch knew what he was and, clearly, had absolutely no remorse taking what he wanted even if it meant death. It was dangerous. He was dangerous.

But that’s where his foolishness came into play. He knew the risks and he bore them eagerly. Things were more fun that way, with their touch of danger. At any moment, this person could snatch him up and do who knew what and no one would be the wiser. No one would even know he’d been taken and he knew it.

Well, except maybe Misu, but there wouldn’t be much she could do about it.

The thought of it was almost a thrill. It rushed through his veins like preemptive adrenaline. Not that he wished it to happen. Not at all, really, but if it did… Who knew? The circle continued on. Even if he didn’t make it through.

“Precious indeed…”

He watched on, tempted for a moment to offer assistance. After all, he had his own pull with these creatures and he’d had more than his fair share of interactions with them. There were probably faded scars somehow from when he’d been a pup himself, far too curious to be without those wounds for more than a few days.

But just as he’d through about offering, the man lunged forward and the whole upper half of him was in the water. Kuval straightened a bit, his heart picking up. He could be lost here, couldn’t he? Torn apart by those he sought to capture? But no, there was a confidence to his dive… and sure enough he was at the surface again, thrashing about with the young girl in his arms.

As she was tossed unceremoniously through the portal, Kuval could feel the wince starting within him. Circle or no, it felt like too much death. Too much blood. What sort of magick should ask for so much pain…? That laugh didn’t help. There was evil within it, delight in the sacrifice.

This is a terrible idea, he thought to himself. Yet he remained there on the stone, unmoved, staring down into the peaceful face of the murderer before him and wondering what sort of name a beast like him could own.

As his breathing finally started to calm, he noticed that the frenzy still had not. That wasn’t too odd considering how long they could last, especially if their own blood started to spread through the waves, but he had three very distressed creatures to take care of on the shoreline. It was time to start the process of taking down the circle. He pushed up into a sit, crossing his ankles as he looked down at his circle. His lips quietly moved as he took the quartz from his pocket, and began to expertly trace it in reverse to its original design. At once the portal closed, the candles and crystals regained their structure, and the process was able to begin.

“Tell me,” he spoke to the boy on the other rock, his eyes however never moved from their concentration on his circle, “how much carnage have you taken personal witness to? Hmm?” Bringing his still ocean soaked fingers to the ring of candles, he started to effectively snuff them each out. When he was finished, he screwed the lids back onto their proper candles and moved them into his pack along with the quartz. “I wonder sometimes if your kind are more ruthless in their own ways than mine.” Though to some it would seem an insult, he meant it the exact opposite. To him there was no negativity to ruthlessness: all it happened to be was the extremity of honesty married with brutality. You knew where you stood with people like that.

“You’re still walking after all.” As the crystals were lifted from their spots, he softly hummed, feeling the power dim out of them with each practiced rise and fall of notes; ending with him putting them back along with the rest of his supplies. The athame was last, and then he buckled it all down together to keep it safe from spilling out. “Though, speaking of which,” he moved the pack onto his back and stood up.

His eyes narrowed on the swarming creatures and he moved a hand out as he deeply inhaled, “I prefer you the other way.” His fingers flexed out as he softly whistled a quick tune, immediately a gentle shockwave went out: causing a single shark to freeze in its movements. It was a necessary casualty and pulled hungry attention to it. The frenzy turned to that poor single creature, but it would leave him with a long enough distraction to get back to shore.

He looked over at him, “It won’t last long. I suggest starting your swim towards the shore if that’s your destination for the night.” With that, he softly whispered his incantation to himself and dove into the waves. Now for you. He smirked with confidence as he swam back to the shore to make use of his fresh ingredients.

There was much that could be said. Too much, really. Kuval took in all the words offered to him and thought about what sort of response was really necessary. He could, of course, tell the man about his times in the ocean. He could tell him about his times in the city. He could explain so much… but what would be the point of that?

He was still walking, as the witch stated. There was much to that, after all. It hadn’t always been so simple a task. Not just the walking, but the walking among humans. He didn’t dare to show most his form and those who had seen…? It wasn’t so simple to walk away.

Ruthless, he repeated to himself, mulling the word over in his mind. Was it one he would use for himself? For his people? They were animals, in a way. He knew this. Some of them saw humans as the same. Just as this one had thrown sharks to the shore, he’d seen his own drag humans into the depths. Pockets in caverns, even… but that was getting off topic.

For just a moment, his hand reached up and touched down on the scar on his shoulder. Ruthless was too simple a word for some of the things he’d seen, but it would work well enough for now. He couldn’t think of any one better at this point.

Kuval turned his eyes away from the scene in the water. Despite everything, watching the carnage still wasn’t his favorite thing. He’d been that way as long as he could remember, turning his head away. Unseen, but not ignored. Instead he looked at the witch, watching him dismantle everything he’d created.

Of course you prefer me the other way, he thought almost bitterly. Truth be told, he preferred himself the other way as well. This human form was too tight, too constricting. His hand touched down on the muscle of his toned abdomen and felt a frown overtake his features. He missed the roundness of his natural body, but this one was often safer. Here the only things people usually wanted for him were things he was willing to give…

Then, of course, the man was off. Kuval slowly pushed up to stand on the stone, looking first toward him and then back toward the ocean. He knew what he should do. He should dive in, away from the frenzy, and follow the current to safety. Away from the murderer. Away from the excitement.

The wind whipped up, pulling his attention back toward the shore as it cast the salt cased locks of his white hair across his face and back again toward the waters. He stood still, curling and uncurling his fingers in indecision a few seconds longer than he should.

But of course, anyone who knew him knew what his decision would be. It was easy enough to guess. He went where life took him, where adventure took him. He dove into the water gracefully, careful not to take any into his lungs as he swam to the shoreline where he knew the man would be.

After all, the witch was nothing if not an adventure waiting to happen. However a short one it may be.

The air was cold against his skin as he walked back onto the shore, shaking his arms out but not bothering with wringing out his hair. He enjoyed the way it felt to have the ocean running down his back; fingers of a long lost lover. And he gazed with pride at the three he’d taken. Even now they were still desperately flopping against the beach; sand sticking to their skin, some of it starting to clog their gills. They might very well drown on dry land. Despite that, he walked passed them and to his home, going down the packed steps and dropping his backpack at the entrance. In the corner was a well-loved violin, and he took it up along with his bow after rooting his athame out of his pack.

When he made it back to them, he saw that the pup had given up the struggle, and he breathed out slowly as he resigned himself. This one would be first. Resting his instrument down, he walked over to it and knelt down. Even though he needed things from them, they still deserved respect enough for a merciful death. No pain was needed for this, and the only energy he’d want would be drawn from its life force: not its pain. So, he took it surprisingly gently by the belly and made a deep crimson smile with his athame. It led from his gills, under his neck, back to its other set. Within seconds the babe was bled out, and he left its fresh carcass there to do the same to its companions.

As expected, the adolescent had been the hardest, and he was eager to pry out her jaws. That would come later though. For now, he rested his athame in the sand facing west and took up his violin. Blood ran down his chest, his chin, all along his arms to leave the glowing veins on his skin temporarily wine colored. Their energy would be drawn first. He brought his violin up, chin resting on the edge as he rested his bow against the strings.

His eyes closed as he played a slow tune, picking up every so often and pitching high in the middle. His breathing deepened, matching rhythm with his heart as he drew in their life essence. It flowed in soft tendrils through the air, all of it sucking into his athame. He could feel it building, and while he was tempted to look on, he made sure to keep his eyes closed. Likewise he wanted to draw some of it into himself, but refrained from doing so. His feet slowly led him backwards in two long strides before slowly turning in a circle. The ebb and flow of their life dizzied him, he could smell it even. Their blood squished under his toes; chilling quickly as it mixed with sand to give a morbid imitation of the ocean’s touch.

The signatures picked up, so much so that he knew his bowstrings would be frayed and in need of replacement when this was said and done. Only when he felt that they were completely tapped did he end the incantation and open his now glowing eyes to look down at the empty bodies: now spiritual husks of their formal selves. His athame, however, was glowing with power and he walked towards it as one would approach a starving animal. It welcomed him, and he smiled as he wrapped his fingers around it’s blood slicked hilt.

A surge of energy rushed through him, filling him all the way down to his toes and all he could do was exhale weakly; his smile broken but still alive. The blade itself was impossibly cold, so much so it nearly burned, and he moved to the pup. Sitting down, he pulled it into his lap and began to slice off its fins.

The sands of the shore felt so different than the sands at the bottom of the ocean, and yet Kuval always trusted these much less than those he’d left behind. Here, walking out of the water, he felt the weight of the world before him as if pressed upon him. It was strange to him how he could hold so much less weight and yet feel so very heavy out here.

It probably didn’t help that sand, which he loved, was one of the harder surfaces for him to master walking on. It seemed to have a mind of its own, always shifting under his newfound feet like it was trying to escape his steps.

By the time he made his way onto the shore, the witch seemed to have produced an instrument from somewhere and was taking it and that blade back to the sharks. Kuval stopped for a moment. There was no doubt in his mind of where this was heading. He wanted to move over, to comfort them in their last moments, but there didn’t seem to be time…

Instead he turned away for a moment, moving over to where he’d discarded his own land clasped things. He took his time dragging on the pants. He still didn’t like them, truth be told. They held the sand to his skin, rubbing roughly between his thighs to remind him that he wasn’t as he wished to be. Next he moved his hands up into his hair, fixing the mess back into a more manageable shape once more. When he was sure it wouldn’t drip much more, or dangle down too far, he unfolded his cloak and draped it around his shoulders, leaving the hood down for now as he looked back over.

Behind him, the witch had taken up the instrument. The sound of it was eerily different than he was accustomed too and he was urged again to turn back. He held still for now though, trying to ensure that whatever was being done was, in fact, done.

As the music faded down and disappeared, Kuval turned his attention back. The man sat on the ground, cradling the empty shell of the young one in his lap. Such a strange one…

Finally, he picked up his staff and started over, planting the end of it firmly in the sand with each stride forward. As he walked, he spoke up, “What’s the purpose?”

There had to be a purpose, surely. No one did magick just for the sake of it, did they? He had to have a reason for killing these creatures. Or, at least, Kuval hoped he did.

With one so young, the flesh, while tough, was still just malleable enough that the cuts didn’t take as much effort. The state of his athame only helped that along. When he got to the tail fins he heard a familiar voice and moved just his eyes up to the man. To be honest, he was surprised the two were even conversing, but he brought his attention back down to the pup as he answered him, “The purpose? That’s too broad of a question.” He rested the fins down and then turned it onto its back, leaving the belly exposed.

His athame sliced into its flesh and he smoothly pulled it up from tail to mouth. It needed gutted, and luckily he’d done this enough that it was a clean procedure. The stomach was discarded to the side, its contents would need emptied out when he was finished, “The long and short of it is, quite frankly, for the power they bring me.”

As he skinned and cleaned the animal, he left it in a neat set up against the sand, turning gore into meticulous cuts. Many of which were meant for obvious consumption, “Aside from that though, their flavor is unmatched. What I don’t use for magick, I use to fill my stomach.  Some of it I can preserve or dehydrate.” The latter was usually for the inhabitants of his tank and his tide pool garden.

When he was finished, he looked up at him again. He rested his hands on his knees, athame still held in one of them. Blood soaked into his pants as he continued on, “Why do you ask? Mere curiosity, or do you have a pull towards the arts yourself?” Truth be told, he wasn’t used to anyone staying around him for so long after such displays. Not to say that the fact of that bothered him: he preferred it that way actually, to be left alone. People were usually bothersome and disgustingly easily perturbed.

Kuval took up his place just outside of the circle of blood. He looked at the drying bodies, stretched out so close to home and yet so very far. For not the first time, he wondered what it would feel like if that fate found him. The idea of it made his throat tighten with thirst and he pulled one of the canteens from its space on his hip, downing a swig from it deeply.

He’d seen worse, if he was honest about it. In fact if he was completely honest he’d have to admit that the smell of the meat was calling to him. He hadn’t realized quite how hungry he was until he saw the meat there, cut and ready. He eyed it hungrily for a moment before he looked up at the witch again.

“I’m not sure, really,” he answered. He was never quite sure what he would want or need over time. Things he thought he’d hate, he’d grown to love. Things he loved, he’d grown to hate. If he put his fingers in this magick, would he love it? Or would it be something he grew to look upon with disgust? “Right now I think it’s curiosity, and peace of mind.”

He nodded a little to that and continued, “I appreciate that you use the lot of it. No waste, less loss. It closes the circle a little better.”

Driving his staff into the sand, Kuval lowered himself down and sat there, one arm around it leisurely as he watched. He tried to imagine what that sort of power would feel like. He knew the power as it stood before, as he’d looked at them in the water. The strength and fight they’d radiated. All of that, refocused on this one man.

Kuval lifted his eyes once more and locked them onto the witch, narrowed in focus as if he could gather any information he could possibly want by staring alone. When he spoke, his tone was calm, but that curiosity remained at the forefront, “What’s your name, witch?”

“Hm. You’re not stupid at least.” The words were more irritated than he meant them to be, but that feeling wasn’t directed at him. However, he did take note of that appetite in his eyes and looked down at the fresh meat. With a sigh he offered him some, “Take a piece if you must. No more than that.” A rarity in itself, but if the man hadn’t been what he was then he wouldn’t have gotten such a pleasantry. He took up some himself and moved it between his lips. This fresh and young, it nearly melted on his tongue. His body had grown so accustomed to eating it raw that it was easy for him, and he sucked the blood from his thumb,

“Coming from the ocean, I’m surprised you haven’t dabbled yet yourself. It would probably come easily to you, in comparison at least.” Not that he was discounting his own power. He’d spent the better part of his life building it up and thus far hadn’t come across another human that could match his power when it came to magick that drew its power from water. Well, aside from a certain fallen goddess, but he’d never had the chance to meet her before her descent from grace. Then again, she had been a being of ascension and hardly fell into the boring category of ‘human’.

He eyed him for a moment, considering giving up that information. It wasn’t even for fear of anything being done with it, he just knew that once names were exchanged it could shift a dynamic. As intriguing as he was, being a merman, he hadn’t yet gotten a good read on him, “Dorian.” He pushed up from the sand, taking his violin with him, and walked to the adolescent, “Do not eat more of that.” he said as he walked. When he got to her, he sat down and pulled her half into his lap so that he could start on her fins now, “And yours?” he asked, referring to his name.