A Land of Legends

The Secret City

Kingdom of @TalesOfTheDeep

***

The sun barely brushed the sky with its bright fingers when I left Scydelle's shores this morning. Now, it's at its peak, glimmering off the little waves of the ocean around me, but my basket is still empty.

A tug on my fishing line sends a flutter of hope through me. I reel it in to see that it's nothing, just the ocean teasing me again. 

I sigh. Maybe I should give up. If I keep rowing, I can get to Aelfdene. From there, I can go anywhere.

That isn't an option. My family would go hungry without me. Running away would only prove my stepfather's assertions that I am a no-good son.

I have long fantasised about venturing into the unknown. Quorin has many kingdoms and even more legends. I could reinvent myself. I didn't have to be Jacopo, the poor fisherman. I could be anyone.

But dreams are pretty like clouds, and as insubstantial.

As the sun journeys across the sky, I row over the sea.

Where have the fish gone? They have never lured me so near to the ruins of Aeqor before.

Legend says a mysterious disaster destroyed the underwater kingdom four centuries ago.

I'm not afraid of Aeqor, only of returning home late and empty-handed. My mother would forgive me, saying tomorrow would be a better day. My stepfather wouldn't agree.

I push on past the discouragement, further from familiar shores, in the hopes of catching a fish.

When I reach the crumbling walls of Aeqor, I stop to examine them. If I row closer, I can touch them. I wonder if the pillars would stand tall or collapse at my fingertips.

I look down. A shadow flits beneath my boat. Feeling a flicker of hope, I toss the end of my fishing line over the boat's edge.

At that moment, a wave throws my boat forward. I fall against the side, losing hold of my fishing rod.

"No!"

I snatch at it, but I'm too slow. It vanishes into the deep.

What am I supposed to do now? I can't fish with my hands.

An idea strikes me.

I pull a tiny seashell out of my pocket. An old woman gave it to me at the pier this morning. She said if I put the shell under my tongue and recite the incantation, I can breathe underwater for half an hour. I'm not wearing a wristwatch, but surely it would take me less than thirty minutes to dive down, retrieve my fishing rod, and return to my boat.

I slip the shell under my tongue and hope that it works.

"Da caeli," I say.

Give me air.