The sun was climbing higher into the sky, and it was laying ribbons of gold upon the sea as it churned ever closer to the shore with the rising tide. Far in the distance, stallions of white crested over distant waves, charging for the shore, only to get too far ahead of themselves and bury themselves back beneath the ocean once again.

Standing atop one of the rocky cliffs, looking down over this scene, was Nathan. Resolute despite the hammering of the waves on the rocks below him, watching each wave batter itself into seafoam in its ceaseless attempts to bring down the cliffside.

Despite his calm exterior, inside he raged with more emotions than he could name. The occasional spray of seawater that managed to reach him helped soothe the fires burning inside him, and he took another deep breath. The cool, salty air was invigorating, and helped him to order his thoughts, and numb some of the pain.

He let out a shuddering breath, not knowing what else to do. He thought back to Feray's words during their last conversation.

"I won't put you through that."

Those words made him wince with pain. Everything that had been confusing him had come together before that. He loved Feray, and in hindsight he probably had for a while. He just didn't know it. But he knew it now. And while it gave him joy like he had never experienced before, at the same time it tortured him, simply because Feray wouldn't return those feelings.

Thinking of her threatened to send him careening through a gauntlet of mixed emotions, and he fought to keep his feet on the ground and his mind in the moment, while his heart lay in his chest like blackened lead.

Why couldn't she love him the way he loved her? What was she trying to protect him from? Admittedly he knew little about surface dweller romance, but what he did know didn't seem to indicate that being in love was some sort of awful fate.

Was it him? What was so awful about him? Was it because he was a merman and she wasn't? She had seen him take his warshape, and she claimed that it didn't change anything. But did it? Was she frightened of him for some reason?

He shook his head, dismissing that thought. She's afraid of spiders, not crabs. And while they might look similar in some remote fashion, that didn't make a lot of sense anyway. He put his face in his hands. None of this made sense.

He had thrown everything away, his people, his very future, he had given it all up for something wonderful. And then it was gone, just like that. He wanted to scream, but who would listen? He was alone in a place he could never belong in. There was no one he could turn to who would truly understand him, and his own people would surely kill him on sight if he approached them. A growing feeling of entrapment was growing in his mind and he could not escape it.

Nathan had never really known despair before, and it haunted him. Lost and alone in the chaos of his own feelings, he was slowly losing himself to that hellish emptiness that gnawed away at him from the inside like a cancer. The beast inside him screamed and raged against an invisible prison of growing misery, but Nathan knew that there was no one left in his life to hear its cries.

His thoughts scattered like birds as fresh seawater assaulted his face, and he looked down at the waves beneath him. In the time of his tortured musings, the wavebreaks had climbed higher and higher up the cliffside, until it reached him.

He stood there, as time and again he was drenched in seawater, as it struggled to rise even higher up the cliff, like it was trying to reach out for something. But it was only in this one place where he stood, most of the cliffside as unmolested. Nathan was puzzled, wondering what it could be after.

Then he realized, the sea was trying to reach HIM. But why? Why try to reach him after everything he'd done? It didn't make sense. He had betrayed his people, allowed their property to be stolen, made friends with the enemy, fought against his own kind in battle, even dared to love a surface dweller!

Why would the sea still reach out for him? Hadn't it turned its back on him like his own people?

Then a thought suddenly struck him: why would it? His people were of the sea, but the sea was far more than they. He still fought in its name, and believed in its glory. He yet yearned for it, and still drew on its power in time of need. And each time he did, it was there, ready to respond to his call.

He realized that the sea hadn't turned on him as he had thought. Even now it was reaching out to him, and would smash the cliffs down to nothing to reach him. In his quest to infiltrate the surface-dwellers, he had turned his back on it, in a misguided attempt to fit in.

He stepped back a few paces, then charged forward, leaping off the precipice, aiming for the deep raging surf below. He landed with a mighty splash, the chest deep water cushioning his fall only slightly, and his whole body ached from the fall. But he did not care, he had to know. He stood still with arms open to the sea, and closed his eyes, trying to feel for what he still feared was not there.

And there it was. The cold, comforting grip of the sea willingly wrapped itself around him like a mother finding a lost child. Happiness welled up inside him, and he wept, but those tears were full of joy this time. The beast inside him crowed, for it knew that this was the way things should be. He belonged again, and his troubles melted away.

He was still a part of something, something more magical and powerful and ancient than anything the world had ever known. And in that, all things were possible, even the impossible.

For a moment, he simply basked in the glory of it all, letting the cold sea and the warm sun fill in the empty and wounded parts of his heart and spirit. It was in that moment that he realized a truth that mighty Rorqual had never spoken of. But Nathan felt that it needed to be said, so he took up the mantle of orator, even if no living person was listening.

"Grandmother Sea is eternal, and it remembers always. Our triumphs, our failures, our joys and our troubles. No matter where we go, it is always waiting for us to return. No matter what we do, it welcomes us back. We may leave it behind forever, but it remembers us, as so long as we remember it, a part of it is always with us."

Even here, exiled from his people and feeling alone and rejected, he was still part of something wonderful and tremendous, and that knowledge gave him courage and strength.

He would prevail.

He laughed, a loud and joyous sound that seemed to come from everywhere inside him, and he fell back into the waters. Sand and seawater rushed over him as the tide washed back and forth against the shore, the seafoam tickling his face and hands as he floated freely in the tide's grip.

For how long he remained there, he did not know. However long the moments lasted, it was the greatest of comforts to him.

At last he opened his eyes, squinting against the sun as it continued its climb towards its zenith. He could still feel the pull of the tides upon him, urging him to return home, to where he belonged.

But as much as he wanted to, he could not bring himself to. There were too many things unfinished. He was not yet ready to say goodbye to his friends.

He paused at that thought, and realized that it was true. That little rag-tag group of individuals were his friends. The reason why, even in his moment of greatest despair, he could not give into it. They were still in his life. And even if they did not truly understand him, they would be there for him if he asked them to. Little Mitsuo and Erellisae, Mikari, Dylan, Jalanda, and yes even Cassidy, and...

Feray. Her image flashed through his mind, but this time the chaos of his former confusion was gone. Everything made sense again, and he knew what he needed to do.

He righted himself and walked towards the shore, the seawater clinging to his body and clothes, giving him courage despite its weight, for his heart was light and strong again. If Feray had given up hope, then he was prepared to hope for her.

His people were proud and strong. He was proud and strong. He was Mer, brood of Rorqual. And merfolk surrendered to no one, not despair, not fate, not death, not anything. But just this once, he was willing to surrender, to hope. And to love.

And it felt good.