The world eventually came back to him, one sense at a time.

The smell of hot, salty air rolling upon a light breeze. The sun's glare from above, filling his eyelids. And then Stefan began to feel the pain that covered his body, and opened his eyes.

The sky stretched endlessly over him, not a cloud in sight. Stefan struggled with his stiffened and weakened body to sit up and surveyed his surroundings; he was lying on a large slab of rock on some unfamiliar, jagged coastline. Several feet below him the sea splashed lazily against the embankment.

Stefan glanced down at himself to find his hands covered in jagged, sore cuts. His shoes were gone and his pants hung in tatters at his knees. He lifted his shirt to find blackened bruises spreading across his abdomen where the cannon had hit him. When he breathed in he felt a sharp twinge of pain; undoubtedly he had broken a rib or two as well. The familiar pain from the wound on his shoulder throbbed dully in the mix. He lay back down against the rock and closed his eyes.

And then, a strange sound crossed over the breeze and took Stefan by surprise. It was, he suddenly realized, the sound of muffled crying.

Again he sat up.

"Who's there?" He tried to ask, but his voice came out in nothing more than a raspy whisper. There was no answer.

Painfully, he pulled himself over the slab of rock and peered down below by the water. Indeed, someone was there. They glanced up suddenly, noticing him. It appeared to be a boy in the water, one not much younger than Stefan himself.

The boy was half submerged in the water; he wore a heavy shirt made of a strange fabric with a tattered sailor's cap pulled down far over his forehead. Stubble covered his youthful chin. The boy gave Stefan a glaring look, his crying put to an abrupt stop.

"You're alive," the boy remarked gruffly.

"Yes," Stefan managed to say.

The boy shook his head, turning his gaze down towards the water. "I don't understand…"

"Understand what?"

The boy glared up at him again, an unspeakable conviction in his eyes. "I saved you," he said hoarsely, "I saved your life. I was supposed to-" here, he broke off and stared sullenly out at the ocean.

Stefan inched closer. "You saved me? But how?"

"Because I can swim really well," the boy replied indignantly. And as he said this, a brown tale flitted out from under the water and slapped the surface, sending the water bumping in rings of small waves against the rocks. Stefan stared at this in disbelief. The tail was connected to the boy. The boy had a fish's tail instead of legs.

The boy locked eyes with Stefan, his features frozen in frustration. "When merfolk save a mortal's life, we are awarded one wish. You are alive, yet my wish did not come true." He burst into sobs again and turned his face down toward the water.

Stefan sat up. "You chose the wrong person to save," he said apologetically, pulling his shirt off of his shoulder to reveal his poisoned wound. "I'm still dying. Unless I can somehow find my way to the island I was going to on that ship, there is no hope for me."

The boy peered at the wound curiously. "You have to reach an island in order to live?"

"That's what the fairy said," Stefan explained. "There is a poison inside of me making its way to my heart. The antidote for this poison is supposed to be waiting for me there."

The boy shrugged. "Where I come from, fairies are mistrusted. I doubt you have to reach any particular island to find an antidote for that," he said, pointing to Stefan's wound.

The idea struck Stefan. "Really? But how would I know what to look for?"

This seemed to brighten the boy's mood. His tail splashed against the surface of the water again, sending icy droplets fluttering through the air. "I can take you to a sacred place in the sea, one my people keep a secret. It is a place where the plants are blessed; plants that can heal anything."

"Anything? How do you know?"

"Everyone knows," said the boy. "Under the sea, that is."

Despite himself, Stefan laughed. "If you haven't noticed, my friend, I'm not half fish as you are. I couldn't find the cure down there without drowning first. So, thanks for saving me, but I'm the wrong guy."

The boy fisted the water in frustration. "Just listen," he said. "I want to make a deal with you. I can take you to find the cure for your wound. I'm certain we can make it in time…but I also want my wish. Come with me, and we will both get what we want."

Stefan raised his eyebrows in bewilderment. "I don't understand. How would that even be possible?"

Here, the boy grinned. "Let me show you."

Stefan backed away from the boy, painfully pulling himself up the rock. "No thank you."

"I can give you a tail," the boy said quickly. "Just like mine. With it, you can swim as I do and even breathe under water. Once you have a tail, it is a done deal until you return to land again. I'll even show you the way to the shoreline after we find your antidote."

"You can't be serious," said Stefan. "I've never heard of such a thing. Are you trying to trick me? To drown me? What is this?"

"Why would I be tricking you?" said the boy furiously. "I've already saved your life once, whether or not you are still dying. Please, just give me a chance. Surely, you want to live?"

"Yeah, I do," said Stefan.

"Then there is no time to waste."

Stefan lowered himself into the strikingly cold water feet first. The ocean softly lapped against his middle, rendering his lower half nearly numb, and his upper half covered in goosebumps. His teeth rattled as the strange boy took his hand. The sun shone brightly, making it difficult for Stefan to see into the shadow underneath the boy's brimmed hat, obscuring his face.

"This may seem quite strange to you," the boy warned him.

"What will you do?"

"I'm going to swim you down to the bottom of the sea. You will most likely lose consciousness. When you wake shortly after, you will have a tail until you again return to land."

Stefan hesitated, his heart lurching uncomfortably in his chest. He had no idea if he could trust this stranger. And taking another trip into the hostile under-realm did not immediately persuade him. It didn't seem, though, that there wasn't really much choice left.

"What's your name?" Stefan asked.

"It's Cas," the boy replied gruffly. "And yours?"

"Stefan."

"Stefan," he repeated. "You have to come with me voluntarily for this to work. So, based upon the agreed terms, you are willing?"

Stefan squinted in the sun, his feet tingling in the sand below. His heart thudded uncertainly. "I get an antidote, you get a wish. I agree to that."

Cas nodded, and in a flash his impossibly strong hands grasped Stefan's arms. "Don't bother trying to hold your breath," he said. And then he pulled Stefan down into the icy water, far, far away from the safety of the salty, sunny air.