This One Can Help

Arista's own water breathing ran out not long after, and she made her way back up to the ship, climbing aboard just as the effect faded, her lungs adjusting easily back to the familiar rhythm of breathing air.

Selen drifted back toward Squishy while the rest of the crew watched from the deck, the two of them settling into another quiet, private exchange, trident glowing softly between them.

Unbeknownst to Arista, the conversation had shifted.

"...I wish to reinstate the journey of worship," Selen told him, quiet, hopeful, the same fragile joy she'd carried since first crossing the tube still fresh in her voice. "My people deserve to make this journey again, exactly as our ancestors once did."

Squishy's rings pulsed thoughtfully, considering.

"But the distance is considerable," Selen continued. "My people cannot swim it without rest, and the City of Worship, our traditional resting place—" she glanced toward the sealed, air-filled dome behind her "—is no longer accessible to us. We would need somewhere else. Somewhere along the route that we could actually use."

Squishy considered this for a long, careful moment, his massive head tilting as he processed a genuinely interesting problem.

Then, without warning, one massive tentacle shot up out of the water.

Arista, standing near the railing on Nettle's deck, barely had time to register the motion before the tentacle curled gently but firmly around her, lifting her clean off the deck and pulling her straight over the railing, submerging her directly in front of Selen.

Arista clearly tried to say "Squishy, what are you doing?!", but opening her mouth only resulted in taking a big gulp of seawater, flailing slightly, equal parts alarmed and confused.

Selen's eyes widened with sudden understanding, and before Arista could do much more than sputter and cough against the water filling her mouth, the priestess reached out and cast Water Breathing.

Relief flooded in, as the water she took in was again breathable.

[Status Effect: Water Breathing — Applied]

"...What is happening," Arista said again, this time actually understandable, still held firmly in the tentacle's grip, genuinely bewildered.

"...I have a request of you," Selen said, studying her with sudden, focused interest. "Dryva believes you can help."

Arista blinked. "...Help with what, exactly?"

"Housing," Selen said. "I wish to reinstate what your people call a pilgrimage, the journey to visit Dryva, as our ancestors once did. But the distance is too great to travel without rest, and the City of Worship no longer welcomes us the way it once did."

Arista considered the request, still held fully submerged in the kraken's careful grip.

"...You need somewhere to stay," she said slowly. "Along the route. Somewhere built specifically for your people."

"Precisely," Selen confirmed. "Dryva seemed quite certain you were the correct person to ask."

Arista glanced at Squishy, who held her steady, patient, entirely unbothered by having just plucked her off a ship's deck without a single word of warning.

"...You could have just asked me normally," she said, half-exasperated, half-delighted. "You didn't need to grab me like a particularly interesting shiny rock."

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Squishy's rings pulsed in a pattern that, after months of knowing him, Arista had come to recognize as something suspiciously close to amusement.

"He does not always distinguish between urgency and enthusiasm," Selen said, apologetic, though clearly fighting back a smile of her own. "I believe, in this case, it was simply the fastest way to get your attention."

"...Well, it worked," Arista admitted, finally relaxing into the tentacle's hold now that the initial shock had passed. She looked between Selen and Squishy, feeling the old, familiar restless spark of a genuinely new problem settling into place despite the undignified circumstances. "Okay. Housing, along the pilgrimage route, built for mermaids specifically. I think I can work with that."

Squishy seemed satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. His tentacle shifted around Arista and began carrying her back toward the exact section of railing he'd originally plucked her from.

Selen noticed where Squishy was taking her and dismissed the Water Breathing.

[Status Effect: Water Breathing — Removed]

Squishy lifted her back over the railing, setting her down gently onto the deck with careful precision, his tentacle retreating back into the water with what might have been quiet satisfaction.

Bram leaned against the railing and shook his head. "...You just got recruited for a new project by being picked up like a toy."

"I've been recruited in stranger ways," Arista said, already reaching for her notebook, dripping and thoroughly unbothered. "Okay. Let's go figure out how to build a rest stop for pilgrims who live underwater."

Bram watched the tentacle retreat back into the water, still visibly processing what he'd just witnessed.

"...Well."

"What?" Arista asked, wringing water out of her sleeve.

"Congratulations."

"...On what?"

"You're officially part of Squishy's inventory now," Bram said, entirely deadpan. "He picked you up, held you exactly the way he holds shiny rocks and puzzle cubes, and set you back down once he was done with you. I think that makes you an object of interest, same category as everything else he collects."

"...I would like to not be filed under the same category as luminescent ore," Arista said, though she was grinning despite herself.

"Too late. Precedent's set."

Arista let the joke settle, still grinning, before turning her attention back to Selen, the actual scope of the request beginning to sink in now that the shock of Squishy's enthusiasm had faded.

"...Before I start sketching anything," she said, "I need to understand the actual scale of this. How many of your people would realistically make this journey? I want to build something that fits the real need, not just guess."

Selen considered the question, her expression growing more somber.

"...Our numbers are not what they once were," she said. "The isolation has cost us dearly over the generations. Where our stories describe a thriving, populous people, we now number perhaps a thousand, all told."

Arista went quiet for a moment. "...A thousand. That's—" she searched for the right way to say it gently "—that's a lot fewer than I expected, given how grand the ruins are."

"The ring took more than freedom from us," Selen said, quiet. "Resources grew scarce. Illness spread further than it might have, with no outside contact to help. Many chose not to have children, fearing what kind of future they would be bringing them into." She paused. "Of the thousand who remain, I would estimate perhaps half are capable of making a journey this demanding. The very young, the very old, the unwell, they would need to remain behind."

"...So roughly five hundred," Arista said, quiet, already recalibrating the entire scope of the project in her head. "Five hundred pilgrims, potentially, needing rest and shelter somewhere along the route."

"That is my estimate, yes," Selen confirmed. "Though I do not know how many would actually choose to make the journey, even among those capable. Some may prefer to remain close to home, especially at first, until they have learned to trust this newly opened world."

Arista nodded slowly, already sketching rough numbers into her notebook, not the full population, not yet, but a realistic, sustainable estimate to actually build toward.

"...Okay," she said finally, already turning the numbers over in her head. "Five hundred, give or take, is something I can actually design around. Not an entire city. Not a token gesture, either. Something built specifically for the numbers you've actually got left."

Bram, watching her work, glanced toward Selen. "...I'm sorry. About the numbers, I mean. That's a hard thing to carry, watching your own people shrink like that."

"Thank you," Selen said, quiet, genuine. "But I choose to see this differently, now. We are small, yes. But we are not finished. And for the first time in longer than any of us can properly remember, we are no longer alone in facing whatever comes next."

Arista looked up from her notes, something warm and determined settling into her chest.

"...No," she agreed, quiet. "You're really not."