Man of God
They lied to you. Whispered rumours of our danger raced from mouth to ear. Spreading like a corrosive rust that permits fear to eat trust. To those of higher status we are primitive beings, never to be sought after, highly dangerous. I am not. Neither are my people. I protest that we have only learnt from generations of slavery to protect and never break. Not even when our sisters cry. In truth, all on this earth are similar. I am yet another girl wishing for wings and a hand to hold. That hand however is transparent and untouchable. It wavers before my eyes but can never be held, because I am different. So very different to that of which you are accustomed with. Thus I did not expect you to watch me in any way different to them.
But you did.
Initially the hard iron of your eyes locked on me with the curious glint that utters unspoken oaths. That glint is familiar to us now. We are experienced. We understand the meaning masked behind your words. The "you are beautiful" which you use as a shield to get close to us. Behind the shield waits the knife. I studied your dialect as a child, curious of the beings which dominate this planet we share. I understand that if you were to follow your original thoughts, you would sell my body to the sharks which walk above.
That expression never fell from your mouth and neither one similar to it. You surprised me. Your instinctual soul diffused like a light through ripples, the eye of Sin reflecting in the gloss of your iris. You remained silent, as did I. Terrified; I fled mindlessly to the nearest corner, praying I may blend in with the cruel rocks which held me in their quarantine. I had reason to be afraid. You were with them, at the time, you were one of them. Yet Sin's appearance granted me comfort. Our moments alone – although infrequent – were special to me. Never spoken aloud, our entire friendship grew from a seed of body language and was nourished by eye contact. When the others arrived you stood firm and tall like a great iceberg which forces the current to eddy around it. You were unyielding but so much more then that below the surface.
They ordered me to walk. Again you came to my aid and I discovered compassion I had previously been blind to in your breed… Breed. It sounds so animalistic in that context. Yet it snuggles comfortably into the gap left in their hearts. The hole in yours was blocked shut however. I could not figure what had filled it, even when the golden cross fell on your collarbone as you leant away from me in curiosity as my legs lost their disguise.
Our friendship was short lived. Now I lie in my home musing on fond memories. A flicker of a smile on your lips, a tender caress of skin on scales, or even our final passionate kiss. Intoxicating and perilous. I only wish your people had not named you a traitor. I would have welcomed you, if only humans could breathe underwater. Your eyes now stare at me, cold as the depths of the ocean. How I yearn to smell your sweet breath, hear your dynamic heartbeat, feel the warmth of your skin. I suppose monsters such as I do not deserve the love of a human. Perhaps it is reversed. The stories of sailors mistrust towards us are factual stories of our curse. Still, you were not a sailor. You were a man of God. God created all living creatures equal… did he not?