The Lighthouse
BESA in 17 Days
word count: 2177
summary: after a breakup, reader meets Coral, a magical ocean horse, who helps them to set things right.
a/n: my entry for day one of #BESAin17Days is Coral! she’s one of my favorite BESA horses and I was inspired to write a story about her gender neutral!reader. enjoy! this was originally posted on the BESA Amino :)
masterlist
I dig my toes into the sand, feeling the bite of the cold water as it laps at my calves. I don’t bother to wipe my tears, even when I can taste the bitter saltiness at the corners of my mouth.
Dusk is pretty at the beach. You can’t see all the garbage everywhere, and the white noise of a million voices and boats in the distance fades quickly the darker it gets.
‘I have something to confess,’ they’d said. ‘It might not be happy for you, but I know it’s what’s best for me, and I felt you deserve to know.’ They might as well have just ran off. It would’ve gotten the message across quicker. ‘You see, on my last trip to Seattle, I met someone. They made me question this - us - and I realize we’re not right for each other.’
I’d asked them, ‘So this is it? You’re just gonna leave me after three years of building a life together to go be with a stranger?’ Silly me. I knew better than to ask, I’d noticed their clothes slowly leaving that closet, I hadn’t said anything when they moved their desk out, claiming they had to get rid of it, nor when they suggested we go back to separate bank accounts for ‘tax reasons’.
‘I’m sorry,’ they’d said, even though they weren’t. ‘You can keep the bed, as a parting gift.’ Because their new lover already had one, they’d intentionally left out.
Now I’m standing on one of the regularly frequented beaches of Anacortes, chucking rocks as far as I can throw them, trying to think about what I’m going to do to pay the mortgage of the house we bought together. Thinking about the fact that my partner’s most likely been cheating on me for months. My ex partner, that is.
At least, I’m throwing rocks until I spot a giant wave in the distance, glinting red with the last light of the sun. Then, I start to back up, almost tripping over my shoes. Within mere seconds, it seems like the wave’s halved the distance between us. I scramble for my things, picking up my keys, pressing the button to start my car, hastily flinging everything into my backpack.
I’m halfway across the sand when I realize I don’t have my wallet. I look back and see it sitting on the wet sand. It must’ve fallen out of my pocket when I was wading! I open the passenger door, toss my backpack in and slam it closed unceremoniously, then sprint back across the beach as I see the wave’s even closer, with no chance of stopping.
Seconds before I’m by my wallet, I trip, falling face first with a shriek. Thankfully, I land on my hands and knees, and reach out to grab my wallet, but out of the corner of my eye I see the red wave towering over me. I scream, curling into the fetal position while covering my head and holding my breath, waiting for impact.
It never comes. Instead, I feel a spritz of a few droplets, and hear the ocean calm. I look up and see a magnificent horse, or what looks like a horse at first glance. The creature is a brilliant pinkish-red, with flowing, mane-like tendrils traveling down the back of their neck. Beautiful blue pearlescent beads adorn their forehead, and when I look, I see that instead of hindquarters, they have a shimmering, curling tail, with a large tail fin to help them navigate the waters.
My first thought is that I should probably scream. Since I am known for making idiotic decisions, I idiotically decide not to do that, instead opting to say, “Hello.”
The horse nickers back at me, and suddenly my head gets a tingling sensation, with an image of them jumping through the water, then an image of a coral reef.
I crab walk backwards in shock, “What the fuck did you just do to me!?”
They whinny, stamping their hoof and snorting, sending another image of many horses, doing the same with other people. “Oh.” Then, they repeat their imagery from before, sending another image of themself one more time to cement it in. “Your name… is Coral?” They nod their head, nickering. They send another image, of a mare nuzzling her foal, then flash back to themself again. “And you’re… a mare?” Another nicker.
Slowly, I stand up, unsure of what to do. I put my sand-covered wallet in my pocket, trying not to think about how much sand I’m going to have to scrub out of every nook and cranny of my body when I get home.
Over the next hour, the sun goes down and the beads dressing Coral’s forehead glow as she explains via visual telepathy how she came to be here, with me. She comes from a magical world, called North of North, a parallel realm to Earth. She seems to exhibit extreme patience, as I’m figuring out the story by guessing what she means, often guessing wrong.
“So, you tasted my tears hitting the ocean, and came here… to help me?” She neighs, throwing her head up and down and prances a bit in the sea foam of the dark, only her beads and the moon lighting the way. She sends me a vision of a book closing, which I take as her meaning the story is over.
I say, “Well, I’m not sure what you mean to help me with. It’s not like I can just find a new partner.” She snorts, sending me a flattering image of myself looking youthful and attractive. I wave her off. “Yea, yea, but it’s not like that. I spent years strengthening a relationship only for it to crumble in one day. Well, more than one day, but one day. Besides, that’s not my main focus. I’m supposed to figure out how I’m gonna pay the other half of my mortgage now… and I don’t even want to live in the house I have now. It just reminds me of them.”
She seems to ponder what I’ve said, then walks toward me a little, sending me an image of me mounting her. “Are you sure?” I ask, not wanting to take advantage of her or insult her. A stamp of her hoof says yes, she is. I do as she says, and as we retreat from the sandy shore into the deep of the ocean, glowing eels swim up to the surface, seemingly greeting Coral. “What are these? They’re… glimmering!” I observe, and the by-now familiar, though still uncomfortable tingle alerts me to the incoming image. She sends an image of me saying ‘glimmer’, then a picture of the eels. Glimmer Eels. “Are Glimmer Eels from North of North too?” She looks back at me as she swims through the water, careful not to get me wet, and nods again. “Sorry if I’m asking too many questions, I know I can be annoying. She sends me another image, this time of her rubbing her head against me as I ask her more questions. ‘No, I like your questions,’ the image is saying. I rub her neck affectionately, surprised at how soft her scales feel.
We arrive at an old lighthouse, one I’ve never seen before. I see a ‘FOR SALE’ sign, with the price of ‘$50,000 USD’ and a note saying, “Extreme fixer upper - call to discuss.” My house right now is worth $200,000 USD, and so are most places in the area, but I can’t bring myself to leave my hometown. The community is so special and calm, the people are so nice! My partner had suggested we move to the nearest city at least, but I told them I just couldn’t bear it if we left. $50,000 is much more manageable - I’d already have half of it paid for if I were to purchase it.
I step inside, taking a look around. It’s dingy and the lights don’t work. The walls could use new paint, all the fixtures and appliances are outdated and broken, but I’d be able to renovate it with my loan. Tears fill my eyes. I don’t know how tonight became possible, but I thank all my lucky stars for it. I step back out, running back to Coral and hugging her right around the neck, crying. “I don’t know why you came to me tonight, but thank you so much, Coral. Thank you.” I pull back, wiping my eyes and smile, sniffing a little. “Will I see you again the next day?” She nods, then sends me an image of us riding together back to my car. I nod back, laughing. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
The next day, I’m up at the crack of dawn, calling the lighthouse owner, my real estate agent, and my bank, and within three weeks my fancy house is sold and I’m moved into my new lighthouse home. I immediately get to work gutting the place, installing all new everything, and decorating my home with beautiful, glowing pearls that the Glimmer Eels bring me. I also work day and night to dig out a waterway to a sliding glass door I installed so Coral and the Glimmer Eels can see what the place looks like for themselves. They seem to like it, and it makes me happy to know it.
I sit, dangling my feet over the edge and in the water, feeding Coral different fruits and berries as we bask in the sun one night. At one point, I notice her staring into the sunset, chocolate brown eyes looking a little vacant. I reach up, scratching her forehead and petting her cheek. “What’s wrong, Coral?”
She turns to look at me, then gingerly puts her head in my lap, sighing. She sends me an image of her swimming away. ‘I have to go.’
Her announcement hits me in the gut. “But- no, no, I- What am I supposed to do without you?” I plead, already sniffling. I hold her head, like if I can just keep her here long enough, she’ll change her mind and stay.
She shows me images of horses that look similar to her, then an image of her wearing a tiara, swimming with them (who are now also adorned with jewels) in an underwater castle.
“So, you’re a Princess?” She lifts her head and shakes it no, “But you’re still royalty?” Nods. “And you left them… to help me. I didn’t deserve that kind of help, Coral. Your duties are more important.” She snorts in defiance, then looks deep into my eyes with hers. She gently rubs her face against mine, whickering affectionately. I know what she means.
“I love you too, Coral. I’ll miss you. Will I ever see you again?” She nods, then sends an image of the sun and moon repeatedly rising and setting in a whir. ‘Yes, but not for a long time.’ I wipe my nose with my shirt sleeve, my voice cracking as I say, “I’ll never forget you, Coral.”
One of the Glimmer Eels rises out of the water, presenting me with a bracelet made of the same magical pearls from before. Coral shows me that the bracelet will glow when she gets near. Then, she retreats toward the horizon, the eels following her.
Before she vanishes from my line of sight, I yell her name. “Coral!” She stops, looking back at me, and I wave, smiling through my tears. She neighs, jumping up to let her radiant scales flash in the setting sun once again, and does a flip before disappearing. I know she’ll be back eventually, but that doesn’t prevent one last tear from slipping out from the corner of my eye.
Months later, I’ve moved on with my life, pretending I’ve forgotten I ever met Coral, but I haven’t. I keep her bracelet on my wrist at all times, never taking it off, even to shower. I’ve paid off my mortgage in under a year thanks to discovering some semi-precious gems left for me in a seaweed woven pouch, and my paintings are selling out like never before, which may or may not have to do with the images of magical sea horses still dancing around in my memory. My buyers seem to like them, and I enjoy making them. It keeps the memories alive. At night, the pearls covering my house glow so I’m comforted by their speckles, even on moonless nights.
One morning, I wake up and notice my bracelet glowing. I groggily grab my phone, scrolling through my notifications until I snap to, finally processing that my bracelet is glowing. I don’t care what I look like (which is described in one word as a mess, to be perfectly clear). I rush down the winding stairs of the lighthouse and fling the door open, yelling, “Coral!” I hear neighing and whip my head around, seeing a familiar red wave in the distance. A toothy smile spreads across my face as my eyes light up.