A Crash, A Song, A Wave

Chapter 15

TW in the description

Alberto POV

Alberto sat bolt upright, his face on fire with pain. He clutched his eye as his gills burned from the strain of forcing water through so fast. He was out of breath, gasping for air.

Another nightmare.

More screaming.

More torment.

Despite finding peace during the day at the Azlo farm, the nights still haunted Alberto.

Every.

Single.

Night.

Alberto hissed as he touched around his eye, blood filling his nostrils. He pulled the bioluminescent shell closer, allowing him to see. He saw a tinge of red seeping into the water—his blood.

He'd cut himself in his thrashing. Alberto quickly confirmed it was just a cut around his eye, and the eye itself was unharmed.

Carefully he sat up, intending to quietly sneak into the Azlo's home and search for a topical ointment that was staunch the bleeding.

"Here." A voice called from the shadow.

Alberto didn't even jump this time. He knew it was Yura. The boy had taken to coming and checking on Alberto in the night, often catching him in a fit of terror.

"Thanks," Alberto said, taking the ointment-filled shell and applying the cream to his face.

"That was a bad one."

It wasn't a question—just a statement. The boy had a habit of calling things as he perceived them in the world. It was refreshing but often a bit abrupt.

"You're right. It was a bad one." Alberto confirmed, wincing as he applied more ointment.

"You called his name again. Luca."

Alberto froze for a moment, then continued treating himself without further comment.

The reason his night terrors were getting worse was because every night Alberto saw him. Saw Luca. Saw the love of his life being tortured by the thorns of the Black Lilly.

"You care about him." Yura continued as though pressing for more answers. Pushing to get to know Alberto better.

But Alberto wasn't ready to talk. Not yet. Not while the wound in his heart still bled.

He wasn't well.

This self-healing journey to the sea... wasn't working.

"I'll be fine, Yura," Alberto said, still not acknowledging the boys probing statements. "Go get some sleep; I'll see you in the morning," Alberto said, forcing a smile on his face.

Yura looked concerned but bid him goodnight and closed the barn door behind him.

Alberto flopped back on the bail of seagrass he'd taken to sleeping on.

It was getting worse, not better.

Alberto contemplated leaving the Azlo farm more than once. If he wasn't finding healing here, maybe he was meant to find it elsewhere.

But something kept him rooted here. And he knew exactly what that something was.

The Song.

The song that came to him every night and, just for a moment, brought relief. It was the sweetest relief Alberto had ever tasted. Ever felt. It made his mind his again. And the Black Lilly wilted.