I watch their interaction with equal parts tension and hope. Fergus studies Cyreus carefully, noting the subtle differences that mark him as not quite human—the perfect symmetry of his features, the fluid quality of his movements, the faint luminescence of his eyes in the moonlight.
"You look human enough," Fergus observes.
"This form is... taxing to maintain. But useful for initial meetings." Cyreus glances at me. "Has Meri explained our situation?"
"She's told me a remarkable story about a crashed ship, a century of isolation, and a partnership that defies conventional understanding." Fergus crosses his arms. "I'm still deciding how much of it I believe."
"That's fair." Cyreus nods, accepting the skepticism. "What would convince you?"
"Meri says your natural form is different."
"Very different."
"I'd like to see it."
I start to protest that we should ease into this, but Cyreus places a calming hand on my arm. "It's a reasonable request." He turns back to Fergus. "Are you certain? Most humans find the transition... unsettling."
"I've spent seventy years on the ocean," Fergus replies, his voice steady. "I've seen things that defy explanation before. If we're going to have this conversation properly, I need to know exactly who—or what—I'm talking to."
Cyreus considers this, then nods. "Step back, please. This requires some space."
Fergus and I move back several paces. Cyreus turns toward the water, and for a moment nothing happens. Then his outline begins to blur, the moonlight bending around him as his form shifts. The transformation is both beautiful and utterly alien—his legs melding together, his torso elongating, tentacles emerging where human limbs had been moments before.
In less than thirty seconds, the human figure vanishes, replaced by Cyreus's true form—a creature of dark red flesh and powerful appendages, humanoid only from the waist up. He turns back to face us.
Fergus inhales sharply but doesn't retreat. For a long moment, he's completely silent, jaw clenched tight. He goes pale. Then, he lets out a low whistle.
"Well, I'll be damned." He shakes his head slowly. "Seen some strange things in these waters over the years, but nothing quite like this."
I watch him carefully. "You okay, Fergus?"
"Gonna need something stronger than scotch when we get back to the house." He barks out a short laugh, still gripping the railing. "But yeah, I'm alright. Just... processing."
Cyreus drifts closer to the dock, tentacles moving beneath the water's surface. "Most humans would be running by now."
"Not much point in running at my age." Fergus snorts, his usual gruffness returning. "Besides, if you were going to eat us, you'd have done it already."
I can't help laughing at his practical assessment. Leave it to Fergus to cut through the drama to the heart of things.
"I'm too old to waste energy on useless panic." Fergus releases his grip on the railing, his weathered face settling back into its usual stoic expression. "Besides, you saved Meridian's life. That counts for something in my book."
"Even across species?" Cyreus asks, amusement coloring his voice.
"A life debt's a life debt, doesn't matter who—or what—is doing the saving." Fergus turns to me. "The houseboat design makes a hell of a lot more sense now."
I feel tension draining from my shoulders, replaced by cautious optimism. "Then you'll help us?"
"I have questions first, Meridian." He looks back at Cyreus. "So many questions."
For the next hour, we talk on the dock, Fergus asking direct but respectful questions about Cyreus's origins, his time on Earth, the extent of his abilities, and the nature of our partnership. Cyreus answers with remarkable patience, occasionally demonstrating aspects of his biology that Fergus finds particularly interesting—his bioluminescence, the flexibility of his tentacles, his ability to process oxygen directly from water.
Finally, Fergus falls silent, processing everything he's learned. The moon has moved higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the cove.
"The research vessel," he says finally. "They're looking for you, aren't they?"
"Yes," Cyreus confirms. "Though they don't know exactly what they're searching for. They've detected anomalies in temperature patterns, electromagnetic readings that don't match known marine species."
"And if they find you?"