22.Light It Up

22. Light It Up

Standing in the surf, Maris and Reef eye the professor curiously. He’s still in his tweed jacket and shiny brown professional shoes, though they look a bit scuffed already.

“The water’s lovely, if you’d like to dip your toes in.”

“No thanks,” the professor replies immediately. “Had enough seawater to last a lifetime.” He looks towards us nymphs sheepishly. “No offense.”

On such a lovely day, it’s hard to believe the destruction that was occurring underwater. Everything appears tranquil and pristine now that we’re setting things to rights.

It’s a little crowded on this small islet with so many of us walking along the sand. Samson and I walk behind the rest of them as the elder nymphs fill us in.

“There are rituals to protect the bond between nymphs and the water,” Reef says. “Tucked away for reference among waterproof scrolls that hold ancient and important knowledge. Relics of the past, mostly.” And in the case of the sacrificial ritual, some of those relics needed to stay in the past. But others… “There are holes in our defenses, rites we should have been performing to ensure our connection to the water can’t be tampered with or…”

“Hijacked?” Samson offers quietly.

“Yes,” the river god agrees. “Not many people make the journey through the dense forest and supernatural preserve to find us. Our community forgot the importance of these rituals over many generations.”

An oversight we won't forget again. It put all this at risk. The water stretches endlessly before us, glistening under the midday sun. The beautiful surroundings have always impressed me but somehow it all seems so much more majestic now that I know the bay will be safe.

Reef and Maris move ahead and just looking at them makes me smile. With the weight of their world off their shoulders, they seem so at ease, moving free and fluidly like water itself. Just as I remember them.

“Zale is from the area,” Solis shares. He’s been researching his old mentor for a while. “When he discovered the bay, he recognized that the nymph’s link to the water could be exploited. He used your connection to draw power from the water for his own purposes.”

The nymphs are familiar with this part.

“Took too much without giving back,” Mom says. “His greed left our bay weakened and his vile intentions and deceit poisoned the water.”

And it didn’t matter whether the nymphs themselves or Zale were to blame. Abuse of water magic caused the problem, so fixing the damage wasn’t possible through water magic. That would have been too easy, abusing magic and waving away the harm with the same magic responsible.

“The power Zale stole the first time eventually ran out,” Solis says. “It had been years since he ran his con here, but it was still risky to scam the same place twice. But he didn’t have much of a choice. He blew through money as fast as he made it, so he always had to hustle, and more importantly, he needed to come back to the bay and recharge.”

Samson shoots a dark look at the sea. “Zale didn’t acquire his strength legitimately, so stealing and supercharging himself had consequences. When that well ran dry, so to speak, he’d be left extremely weak.”

“And it was easier the first time Zale did it.” I smile at my mother and Reef. “We didn’t make it easy for him next time.”

Mom nods. “While the nymphs didn’t totally understand his motives and what he did, we did make it harder to reach us and were more on guard when it came to trespassers. He had trouble getting in and stealing power the second time.”

That’s what did him in. The community was always there when he tried to drain power, catching him and chasing him away. We don’t know the exact details, but our people chased him away one time that turned out to be the last time. They drove him out further into the sea, adrift and past the waters we consider ours.

A water mage should be at ease on the waves, but he was weak and the forces he abused repaid him. He took everything he could from the waters and gave nothing back, so the water acted in kind and took everything from him.

"The sea returned in full measure what Zale had given it." Reef sounds almost proud as he stares out at the surf. "Consuming and covering him with rot and poison." Then it sunk what was left and buried him beneath its depths.

With Zale hidden under the seabed and buried, we couldn’t sense his malicious presence. His corpse rotted away for years, spreading darkness under the ground so slowly and silently that we were unaware as it destabilized the foundations of the cliffs.

Eventually it rose up, poisoning the water and spreading quickly once it made contact with the sea.

It's unsettling, what had been lurking under the seabed. Maybe something shows on my face, because a moment later, Samson claims my hand with his own.

The gesture helps. It's hard to feel upset when essentially taking a walk on the beach, hand-in-hand with a gorgeous man on a lovely afternoon.

"Once the corruption began consuming everything," Reef continues. "We believed Zale had returned for a third time, intent on finishing what he started. Instead, he'd already been vanquished and buried the time before, when he came back to recharge."

Once we reach the edge of the sand, Reef and Maris stop and face us, the sun lighting their serene faces as they view us with pride.

“Our people owe you so much,” Mom says to Samson and Solis. She reaches out and places a hand on Samson’s shoulder, and I think my big strong guy actually blushes at the praise. She smiles at me, knowing the role I played in cleansing the water too.

Reef becomes more somber. “Our sacrifice would have done nothing. It wasn’t a permanent solution. Healing the damage wasn’t enough, not with Zale’s remains still in the water. It would have all happened again. We cannot think you enough.”

Solis shakes his head. "No thanks necessary. I needed to set this right."

“And I’m not some good Samaritan.” Samson raises our joined hands. “Keeping this guy happy is a priority for me,” he says, nudging me playfully.

Look at that, both father and son have something in common. Both too humble to accept the praise.

“This has taught us many lessons," Mom says. "We are fortifying our defenses again so our connection to the bay can’t be used and twisted. And whatever your reasons, you’ve done so much for us and asked nothing in return.”

Reef nods. “That proves that not everyone on land is like the man who made us retreat from the surface. The more we’re part of the world, the more others will look out for us. We’ll be stronger. We’ll protect ourselves from those looking to take advantage while welcoming those who come in peace.”

Mom smiles at me. “Something you’ll help us do, presumably?”

“Of course,” I reply.

A smile tugs at my lips as a canoe approaches, a nymph and forest ranger are the passengers inside, rowing past us in unison. More rangers and nymphs are back at the beach, discussing the current progress restoring the bay and plans for the future. It's a sight I never thought I'd see - the two groups working together comfortably.

The bay is healing, and the nymphs are once again opening themselves up to the outside world.

Everything is falling into place, even more wonderfully than I ever envisioned. I’m finally free to embrace a life on land as well as in the sea, no longer needing to hide either identity.

Even though school and my path to becoming a nurse’s assistant keep me a few hours away from the bay, I can remain close during the summer months. Plus, I can visit whenever I desire.

And no matter where I find myself, I won’t have to navigate any of it alone. I have someone special to share my journey with. And vice versa. There’s still one important step in the journey of the man holding my hand that we need to accomplish.

~

Despite the bonfire beckoning us forward, Samson's feet stop moving when his toes touch the sand. His eyes dart around the beach, taking in the nymphs cooking food nearby and splashing in the water.

It's a celebration. Something supposed to be fun. Someone needs to remind the man next to me.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says, but his voice betrays him. "It's just... your mom and my dad are here."

Of course they are. My mother lives here and we invited his father. Instead of pointing this out, I grab his hand and lead him towards the party. Maris and Solis are standing near the bonfire, talking to each other. They both look up as we approach, and their faces light up with smiles.

"Argyle!" Maris says, pulling me into a hug. "Glad you both made it."

"It's good to see you too," I say, hugging her back.

"The night is beautiful," she says, looking around at the beach. "It's been so long since we were free to venture out onto the land."

"What do you think?" I ask.

She smiles at me. "I could get used to this again."

Mom and the other nymphs can't go far from the bay, but they don't need to hide in the waters either, not anymore. I'm excited to see them explore the surface and open up to the rest of the world once more.

"Tonight is perfect," Solis agrees. "I'm excited for the show."

Samson's face falls. "Don't get your hopes up. I don't know if it's going to be any good."

"Don't worry about us," Solis says. "We don't need to be entertained. This is important because it's a milestone for you. Everyone here is honored to witness you gain magic, so just relax and focus on your element."

Sounds like good advice to me, but a second later, I see the professor's eyes widen behind his glasses and he coughs. "That's my advice anyway. You don't have to listen. It's your magic, your life. I can never seem to resist giving out advice, even magical advice when I really shouldn’t. It’s just a suggestion.”

"Yeah," Samson adds. "A suggestion, from father to son."

"Yes." The professor smiles. "Exactly."

My mother and I are having an easier time reconnecting than Samson and his father, but they're trying. Miracles won't happen overnight. The professor is welcome in his son's life now and they're starting to build a better relationship, one step at a time.

"Excuse us," I say after a few minutes. "We need to go get ready."

I take Samson's hand and lead him to a less crowded section of the beach, where the light from the torches gives us more visibility than the bonfire in the distance.

"Take off your shirt and turn around," I command.

"Hey, buy me dinner first.”

"Don't stall," I tell his smirking face. "There's no reason to be nervous."

"Really?" He slowly does as I ask, peeling off his shirt and turning his back to me. "My dad and I are the first humans some of your friends have ever met. Both your mom and my dad are here to watch this. And I'm the star of the show."

"We're celebrating our safety and thanking those who helped make it possible, which includes you. You aren't the main attraction. You're a guest of honor."

Some younger nymphs run by, gossiping about how they're going to see a real wizard get a brand. Samson turns his head towards me, an 'I-told-you-so’ expression on his face.

"Okay, they are excited to see how wizards get their magic," I admit. "It's good they're curious and not scared. You don't need to be scared either."

"Yeah. Guess so."

I pick up a paintbrush and jar of paint, using the paintbrush to gesture for Samson to turn back around. He does and I start painting his back. The design is already outlined on his skin, so I fill it in.

"If you don't want so many people here—"

"No, it's okay," Samson says. "I worried this day would never come. Now I'm really becoming a firebrand. I shouldn't be nervous."

"This is a big deal," I say. "It's natural to be nervous when something big happens, even if it's good."

He sighs. "Maybe. I just hate being nervous."

I finish painting the mark on his back and step back to admire my work. It's a simple design, but it's perfect for him… and for us.

Samson turns around to face me. Under the stars with a gorgeous man, the fire from the torches reflecting in his eyes, I know we have nothing to worry about.

"You helped make tonight possible," I say. "And I feel comfortable being myself around you. It feels like you accept me, all of me."

Samson's hand reaches up to caress my cheek. "Of course I do."

"And when it comes to your brand, I'm not sure it's wise to mix magic and relationships, especially with such a new relationship, but I think it's the right decision. It feels right."

"Yeah, it does. You were there by my side, helping me use magic without losing control, without losing myself. You made it easy to open up, to let myself feel. You helped me become complete. This is the only missing piece, and it feels right for you to be part of this."

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. "Then tell your nerves to shut up and let's do this."

Samson grins back at me, nodding to himself.

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm not nervous anymore," he says.

"Then let's get this show on the road."

Samson strides towards the roaring bonfire, the crowd parting to let him through. This is a momentous occasion, and I can feel energy buzzing in the air.

As we reach the edge of the fire pit, Samson pauses and takes a deep breath. I see the determination in his eyes as he focuses on the flames.

With a sudden flare, the bonfire erupts higher, the flames dancing and crackling. Sparks fly up into the air above us.

Then, I see sparks begin to dance along Samson's back, tracing the design I painted there. The paint ignites, the flames licking at his skin. But Samson doesn't flinch or show any sign of pain. Instead, his face is alight with joy and wonder, as if he's never felt more alive.

I hold my breath, transfixed by the sight before me. The fire is etching the brand into Samson's skin, permanently marking him as a true firebrand.

As the flames die down, Samson moves away from the fire and finds me. "It's done," he whispers. "I'm a firebrand."

"You did it," I murmur. "I'm so proud of you."

"How does it look?" he asks, turning around so I can see the brand.

I reach out and gently trace the new brand on his skin. It looks even more stunning than I could have imagined. However, it doesn't look entirely how I expected.

All of his other magical tattoos are stark black, but this brand is a mesmerizing blend of blue and red. The mark I painted on him is an argyle design, the same one I have and was named for. Mine is made of skin and scales. His is colored blue and red, for fire and water, for him and me.

"It suits you perfectly," I say, grinning. "And it suits us, too."

It's a perfect representation of the two of us. Fire and water are still opposed as elements, but they’ve found a way to coexist through us.