Bastian's Song [Complete--Editing]

[ 8 ]

The trio of mermen made their way back into Nereus and separated to their own homes: Lachlan to the outer quarters of the city, Zareb to the warrior barracks and Bastian to the glittering golden palace. Yet, as he made his way back towards the comfort of his home, Bastian could only imagine the myriad of ways that the morrow could go horribly wrong.

What if he forgot the oath of the Triton in front of the whole city? What if he accidentally made prolonged eye contact with the Atlantean representative and caused a diplomatic disaster? What if he knocked over a vase and shattered it on the tail of the visiting Siren?

What if...?

Bastian shook his head to try and clear it, but the anxiety was still hanging over him, as dark as squid ink. There was no way he would be able to sleep, and he didn't fancy the idea of staring up at his ceiling for the next eight hours as the night cycle slowly ticked by. Being alone with thoughts of the coronation would only make him jumpier and increase the likelihood of a major mistake.

It was growing late, and most citizens of Nereus had turned off their lamps and shuttered their coral homes. Where else could he go? The only places he was intimately familiar with were the palace and the Dome. Bastian glanced at the pearlescent glass of the Dome and shifted his course towards it.

When it was empty, the main entrance to the Dome was left closed but unlocked and Bastian tugged on the heavy door to slip inside. Without the presence of the lively warriors who trained inside, the Dome felt menacing and seemed to take on an eerie glow from the plants. Bastian drifted towards the middle of the Dome aimlessly, feeling his muscles relax at the feeling of being alone for the first time in a very long while.

The sound of flesh hitting something solid filled the Dome. After a pause, Bastian peeked his head around the end of the entrance hallway and peered into the dimly lit training area. A familiar pair of broad shoulders faced him as the warrior took another swing at the practice dummy. This time, the algae-stuffed dummy creaked on its stand as the force of the punch threw it backwards. Only the sturdy craftsmanship of the dummy stand kept it in one piece.

Bastian inched forward, feeling his heart begin to beat quickly. Maybe this was fate, meeting him all alone in the Dome. It had to be.

"Uncle?" His voice was quieter than he'd meant to be, full of tenuous hope. Bastian cleared his throat and tried again. "What are the chances of meeting so late at night Uncle Arsenius?" Though he tried to make his tone light hearted, even he could hear the tremble in his voice. Bastian silently cursed himself for being so nervous around his uncle.

Arsenius paused with his right fist mid-way towards the dummy. His back straightened and he turned slowly, obviously struggling to remain outwardly stoic. When he was face to face with Bastian, the younger prince could see the tell tale blush against his uncle's skin. 

Arsenius never drank in public, but it was well known that warriors in general had a fondness for what they called 'moonshine'. Supposedly, it was a gift from Selene, but Bastian knew the secrets of it had been traded from the humans in the East. It had never occurred to Bastian that his uncle might enjoy the intoxicating substance in private.

"Prince Bastian." Arsenius' voice rumbled grumpily into the water. "How is it that you always seem to appear when I am least prepared to handle your incessant questions?"

Bastian shrugged off the question with a cheerful smile. "Maybe because you are always unprepared to answer my questions?" He chuckled as though he'd made a witty remark instead of possibly angering the most powerful warrior in all the clan. "You're really going to have to work on that when I become the Triton."

Arsenius' eyes flashed gold and the water around him warmed as though it were in direct sunlight.

"You disrespectful little guppy." He snarled at his nephew. "Goddess save this clan from your wicked tongue and your empty head!"

This was how conversations with Arsenius always seemed to go, and it was always at the name calling portion that Bastian beat a hasty retreat. The moonshine must have made his uncle even more ornery than usual, because he normally had more patience than this. 

This Arsenius was not in full control of himself.

All of Bastian's senses heightened as his instincts warned him of danger, but he didn't step back. For years, he had tried to get his uncle alone. He needed answers and if he didn't get them now, he had a feeling he would never be satisfied. This was it.

Bastian swam closer to Arsenius until he was within arm's reach. Even though Bastian had recently gained his adult height, Arsenius was still two hands taller than him and quite a bit broader. The only physical resemblance between the two were their matching golden tails—the sign of Triton's ancestry. He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, refusing to turn his gaze from his uncle's.

"You will not speak to me that way, Arsenius." Bastian's tail flicked with agitation as he used his uncle's name without his title for the first time. "I am going to be Triton tomorrow, and you will address me with all the respect that is owed to me."

Arsenius' teeth ground together, making a noise that grated on Bastian's ears. The larger merman leaned down, his face a mere hands width from Bastian's. "Until you have the crown, Bastian," he sneered, "you are due nothing from me. My rank is the same as yours."

A shiver ran down Bastian's spine as he stared into the hatred on Arsenius' face. All of his false bravado died and he felt his shoulders slump.

"Why do you hate me?" His voice was a whisper in the water.

Arsenius' eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows in shock. "Wha- I don't..." The merman sputtered as his words abandoned him in his drunken stupor. Or maybe it was simply because Arsenius had never had a way with words. Finally, he seemed to gather what little wits he had left to him and pulled back from his nephew.

"I don't hate you." His voice was calm as he spoke. "I hate your mother."

Bastian's head lifted, hope in his eyes once more. "Why? You never even see her."

Arsenius scowled at the ceiling of the Dome. "Because it is her fault my brother is dead."

With that, Arsenius swam past Bastian and left the young prince all alone in the shadows.