Free Mystic Ink by Casey Wyatt

Mystic. When she reached the mouth of the Mystic River, she sensed another Nereid close by.
    Hail, Nix, her sister said, communicating with Nix mind to mind.
    Juni! Nix hadn’t had a chance to see her since returning. Juni worked at Mystic Aquarium as a rehabilitator and was often away rescuing marine animals.
    I wish I was calling under glad tidings, but I am here on behalf of a friend, Juni replied, sadly.
    Nix’s happiness deflated. It was Rocky. It had to be. Nix had rescued the harbor seal from a shark attack as a pup and brought him to the aquarium. His flippers had been damaged and he wouldn’t have been able to survive in the wild. That had been thirty years earlier, in between Nix’s tours of duty. Nix had visited him whenever she could, swimming and playing with him after hours. When Nix had been depressed after her breakup with Nate, communing with Rocky had helped ground her, reminding her of what was truly important: caring for the ones you loved. Yet, time had sped by and now he was old, having lived much longer than he would have in the wild.
    I am so sorry. He is but a mortal creature.
    I know, Juni. Nix followed her sister silently as they traveled up the Mystic River. When they reached Elm Grove Cemetery, they poked their heads up. The cemetery was one of Nix’s favorite landing spots since it was generally quiet and mostly deserted early in the day. After verifying that no humans were about, they emerged from the water, fully clothed and, with a bit of Nereid magic, completely dry. They walked up Greenmanville Avenue until they reached Coogan Boulevard where the Aquarium was located.
    Juni led her into the still closed facility and to the enclosure where Rocky lived. The place reeked of salt water, urine, and fish. Nix didn’t mind though. Her thoughts were all on the gray speckled animal resting in a shallow pool.
    “Hey, buddy.” Nix got on all fours and leaned down so Rocky could smell her. His eyesight had diminished and his large dark eyes were cloudy. The seal let out a low bark and glided closer. After the short trip, he rested his head next to her hand. His long whiskers, like brush bristles, poked her skin. She tried to stem the tide of tears, but it was too hard. He was her friend, and she would miss him when he was gone.
    Nix ran her hand down his smooth, sleek body. Rocky’s eyes closed. His breathing became more labored. “How long has he been like this?” Nix felt his life force ebbing.
    “Not long. It started yesterday. I think he’s been holding out for you.” Juni tugged at her short, spiky hair. Her sea blue eyes, so like their father’s, were sad.
    That punched Nix in the gut—the reminder that time is finite for mortal creatures. Since she’d been back, she had only visited Rocky once. A lot less than she should have. And now it was too late. This would be their last meeting.
    Nix bent down and captured Rocky’s gaze. As a Nereid, she could enter the mind of sea creatures and, depending on the animal, she could share thoughts, even communicate. Rocky’s kind, gentle mind was still alert. He knew his time had come. Waves of gratitude poured from his brain to hers. He thanked her for saving him, for taking care of him, and for being his friend.
    While in captivity, Rocky had been able to mate several times. Some of his children were even returned to the wild. He had a final request for Nix—deliver his soul back to the place he was born—the sea near the rocky coast of Greenland. There he would be free again, to swim in the waters of his ancestors, a ghostly presence keeping watch over his offspring.
    “Of course. I would be honored,” she whispered into the top of his head. With a final sigh, Rocky breathed his last breath and released his soul. It floated out above his body and formed into a small, milk-white teardrop, then hovered, waiting. Nix tenderly plucked it from the air and cradled it in her palms. Juni came from behind and put her arms around Nix, hugging