Lir was human, until he drowned.
Destined to take back the freedom of a merfolk clan called the Halloran, reborn in the depths of the ocean as a half-man, half-Halloran entity, Lir is meant to be a savior. Yet, Lir only wants to be human again, beca...
He swims towards his village, Nephra. He thinks of Ivory. There is something special about the woman. She is not like other humans. She treats him with kindness. They, usually, do not.
A school of fish dash past him. They leave bubbles behind them in their wake, and Vollan wonders if there may be hope after all—if the humans could possibly learn to cooperate one day, it could save more lives than ever before.
Vollan dives, deeper, until all light disappears and he reaches an alcove made of stone, whose walls are covered in limpets and bite-size pieces of coral, that have been permanently stuck to the grey settlement by children who found them by the shores of the human's lands many suns ago.
He continues his journey, waddles into the entrance, all the while taking the utmost of care to touch nothing with his large, brilliant tail. If his sister were to catch him returning, she would ask questions, and that is the last thing Vollan wants to face today.
The tunnel begins to clear. As the passage grows wider, so does the shine at the end of it. Soon, the palace is in view, though it is not what it used to be. The sight breaks Vollan's heart every time he is forced to face it.
They have lost far too much of their wildlife to the human people. Majestic, fluorescent fish and mammals, that were once thriving alongside intricate algae and humongous invertebrates, barely exist anymore—with some having been wiped out the face of this Earth for go.
The castle, too, is in ruins, for the creatures that felt kinship and appetite for the moss that covers its translucent walls disappeared last year, and nobody else has bothered picking at them since then.
Vollan's lips tighten in a thin line. He looks away. He pushes against minimal currents and heads straight for his room's window. His parents may be angered if they realize he has not used the front door again, but the Princeling figures they do not have to know.
The arched window is open. As expected. This is how it was left.
He is sure the Queen would not have appreciated this either, though, Vollan still does not understand why she worries. Only royalty can pass through the barrier that surrounds their domain, and as of today, he has not heard of any others existing, aside from themselves.
The Halloran Prince flops down onto his bed. He rolls over, and glances outside, to where a few of his younger cousins are playing together, laughing, as if the world was all right. They haven't the faintest idea that the end is nigh if nothing is done soon. Perhaps, that is a good thing.
Perhaps, they do not need to know—not when they are barely teenagers still kindled with the flames of childhood. Not when their parents may want to forge them into warriors, precious sacrifices for his fallen kingdom.
His mind wanders to the human woman once more. It occurs to him that he did not ask for her age, though, judging by the memories he saw when he banished her illness into his body and sucked it dry, it is likely she is only a few suns younger than himself.
She has lived a lot, he thinks, for such a young thing...
The resonance from clicks and shouts that merge with the water outside travel into his quarters and comes to cup his ear in a strange embrace—the shape sound tends to take whenever he is down here.
He sighs. Bubbles pop against his lips. It is evident the woman has given up on her dreams. The disease had not only drained her physically, but mentally, too.
At first, she had wanted to be an adventurer. At least, that is what she told her mother—or rather, someone she thought was her mother.
She was too young to understand.
Then, she had wanted to travel. She told her friends, that she would see the world. She even made plans, stayed up all night drawing trails on imaginary maps she had pieced together, from rumors about the land she'd heard around her. But the men who lived with Ivory found her maps, and burned them all down.
That night was the first time she was beaten. She remembered the bruises well. So well, that she stopped drawing up adventures, and speaking of departing for another land.
Vollan does not know what hurt more when extracting the poison—knowing where it came from, or swallowing it all. It is still in him, coursing through his veins. There was a lot, enough to kill a human, though thankfully, not one of Halloran kin. However, he is not immortal either, and the act did not come without its consequences.
Every now and then, he gets flashbacks to memories that do not belong to him. Hot flashes in the night's middle. And thoughts he has never thought of before. As waning as these things may be, the Halloran Prince cannot claim they are nothing. And he does not know what to do with these pieces of the girl. These pieces of Ivory that are enough to form a puzzle, though not enough to complete the picture of what she encompasses, really. It feels wrong to keep these to himself. If he had a choice, he would give them back, and forget he ever saw them at all. But, they are bonded now. And he is invested. For the last memory was not an image, but a wish—a wish to become stronger. To obtain power—not to rule, but to save.
He wants to help her; it is quite possible there is something selfish in his craving. Yet, Vollan is persuaded that if such a human were to be in charge, then, maybe they would cease to view the ocean as something to be made into their wasteland. As a space to be conquered.
Maybe they would listen. Maybe they would love, as this girl once did.
He wants to help her.
He will grant her wish.
He will give her strength.
He will make her his Queen.
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