Happy Saint Patrick's Day! :D

*.*.*

Around the same time Melissa journeyed through the First World Renaissance Faire, Andalis rowed out on the harbor near the fishing village Dokshaven. It was a nice day to row his boat and fish for something to eat for second breakfast. He checked his fishing rod, saw that it had the worm in its hook, and dipped the fishing wire into the water.

Now, he just needed to wait!

Andalis resembled Frodo Baggins and the light red dragonoid, Parker Dooley, in the dragonoid's human-hobbit form. Andalis had pale skin, fair elvish features, short pointy ears, bright blue eyes, a cleft in his chin, and soft, thick, curly dark brown hair on his head and the tops of his feet. Today, Andalis wore a dark blue dress shirt, red suspenders, and black breeches. He wasn't planning on swimming out on the lake, but it was the best he could do.

Thanks to Aslan, Andalis' foster parents earned themselves a larger house and plenty of coins to keep them happy. Andalis spent half his days fishing and the other half reading and writing. Whatever fish he caught, he gave to the fishermen, earning coin that way. Half the time, he wanted to be a fisherman, but the other half wanted to relax.

The water was peaceful, quiet. It made Andalis want to stay out longer. He didn't know why, just that this was a part of him. This was who he was! He didn't know what happened to his real parents. He felt sure they were out there somewhere, but where could they be? What became of them?

He jumped upon seeing large silver fish leap into the air, right over his head. The silver fish splashed into the water, smacking cold water on his face. He shook himself off, doing his best to stay calm.

"Are you lost, deary?" a mermaid with flowing red hair and with a pinkish fin got his attention. Andalis faced her, mesmerized by her beauty. He wanted to get to know her. It seemed like all other thoughts were lost, including his fishing rod. "Are you lost or do you wish to be found?"

"Could you teach me how to swim?" Andalis asked, curious about her.

The mermaid smiled, nodding, and wrapping her arms around him. "Of course. I'd do anything for you, Andalis." Before Andalis had the chance to ask her how she knew his name, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips. The kiss was so mesmerizing, it made him wish he could spend more time with her.

In an instant, he was dragged underwater by the mermaid, his boat forgotten. He opened his eyes as she released him, watching her flee the scene a moment later. He looked down at his feet.

No. They were turning into silver fins. What? How could that be?

He looked around, spotting other mermaids watching him, curiously. He kicked towards the surface, hitting the water, and climbing back aboard his boat. He sighed, exhausted from his swim. He turned to his finny feet. They returned to hobbit feet. How did that happen?

He sighed, collapsing in the boat and falling asleep. He hardly noticed his fishing rod had disappeared into the water. He was too tired to think about anything else, except for what he went through.

What was he? A merman? A mer-hobbit? It didn't make sense. Well, hopefully his foster parents had all the answers, once he woke up and found his way back home to them.

.

Andalis returned to his foster parents' two-story house. The roof had been recently remodeled, decked in black shingles. The walls were wooden and planked, while the second story had a window standing out on top, along with two smaller windows on either side of the larger centermost window.

Andalis returned home with the fish he managed to catch, thanks to the same red-haired mermaid collecting his fishing rod and returning it to him. He thanked her and went on his merry way, fishing to his delight. He caught five fish that morning, enough for a meal.

Heading inside the house, Andalis found the furniture and kitchen decked out in plaid colors. He couldn't help but wonder, even with the kitchen opened up into the dining room and living room, if he was living in a different time period. All at once, he felt a soft, firm hand brush against his back. He sighed at the way the feminine hand touched his back. He wanted to learn more about this mysterious hand, only to discover a name appearing and disappearing in his mind.

Melissa. Who was Melissa?

"Andalis," his foster mother, a hobbitess with grey hair, said in surprise, "you're home early. Did you catch any fish?"

"Mum," Andalis stowed the fish on the kitchen sink, working on deboning the fish and getting them ready for second breakfast, "do you think there's something wrong with me? I mean, today, when I was out fishing, my feet turned into silver fins. How is that possible? Shouldn't there be a way for my feet not to do that? Is there something wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," his foster father, a hobbit man with grey hair, with black strands sticking out on his head, said, stepping into the kitchen in vain. Andalis looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

"What's wrong with me? Why am I so different?" Andalis asked, cautious. "I don't even know who I am or what I am. I can't be a mer-hobbit, can I?"

There was a silence in the room. At first, Andalis thought it wasn't so bad. At least, until his foster mother spoke to him again.

"You were given to us as a baby. Parker Dooley, the dragonoid, he's the one who sent you here to us," his foster mother said, astonished. "We thought it was a blessing! We didn't know you already earned your fins!"

"What we're trying to say is that you need to seek out Parker Dooley, to find out what's wrong with you," his foster father said, serious. "All I know is that you can no longer stay here with us. This house was given to us by Aslan. It's only fair that he takes you away now."

Andalis didn't like this! He had a life here, in this village! Why was he so different?

"Do you think I'm evil?" Andalis asked, cautious.

"We raised you to be a good boy. Now, it's time for you to prove yourself," his foster mother said, carefully.

Andalis gulped. It wasn't his place to question Aslan, but he needed answers. Maybe this Parker Dooley might know something about his condition. He looked at his foster mother and father, finishing preparing the fish.

"I'll get these ready," Andalis said, setting the tray filled with fish into the hot oven, which his foster mother prepped for him minutes ago. A hand grabbed his arm, forcing him to look up at his foster father's eyes.

"You don't need to do that, son," his foster father said, curtly.

"But I want to. It's all I have left. What more could be done?" Andalis asked, worriedly.

"Son, it's time for you to go." His foster father said, serious.

"But…" Andalis was interrupted by his foster mother, who had something to say.

"Come on. Let's eat second breakfast before Andalis gets packing," his foster mother said, ending the discussion there.

Andalis nodded, closing the oven door and turning on the timer. He looked at his foster parents in confusion. They really wanted to send him off, didn't they?

.

Andalis waited until after second breakfast was over, before he packed up his backpack with clothes, bathroom necessities, his sketchbook, and his notebook. He put his pens and pencils inside his pack, too, before leaving his bedroom, ready to start his journey.

He said his farewells to his foster parents outside, determined to seek out his real parents and his family history. When he finished hugging his parents, shaking his foster father's hand, Andalis turned towards the village, determined to set out on this journey and discover who this Parker Dooley was, and what he was like.

"Don't stray too far from the path, dear!" His foster mother cried in worriment.

"I'll be fine, Mum," Andalis chuckled, waving to her and his foster father.

"Good luck, son," his foster father said, as Andalis made his way out of the village, crossing the next road and leaving his foster parents' house behind.