OH, ME

one

OH, ME

two princesses, one a dragon and the other a siren cross paths by fate, not by choice.

chapter one

contains mythical creatures re-told by me.
this is lesbian fiction. leave the homophobia at the door.
words in italics are either thoughts or words in a different language.
pronunciations:amamkele— ah-mum-gae-leh.
lungalomndeni— loong-ah-lom-deh-knee.
themes: loyalty, fate/destiny, status/rank, self-awareness.

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The body of first girl born of the fourth generation of Qamatas will turn to water the day the moon leaks into the ocean.

"Mother, the Water is enraged." The young nymph signed, attempting a calm demeanour. "It rejects her. She is struggling." The urgency of his signing proved otherwise. "We must—"

The woman in front of him raised her hand to silence him and clenched her jaw indifferently as a front of strength, but she still gulped from anxiety. Her husband next to her was as worried as his son — if not, more — awaiting her judgement. "What do the Healers say?"

"We abandoned tradition and culture. It made the Water furious."

Her heart thumped against her chest. "Manipulation?" She asked.

"Useless, mother."

"Remedies?"

"Feeble."

She looked ahead above his head at the centrepiece of the throne room, a sculpted fist around a spear. It taunted her, asking how she expected it to protect her, her family and people without wanting anything in return. She silently asked for a hero, for mercy, for a miracle.

The surrounding audience of guards with spears and shields feigned inattentiveness, eyes hard as they stared ahead into the blue of the ocean. Such drama in this important family would bring about treason and death, so they prepared themselves to follow through with their oath: To stand for the crown in adversity, even if it means in death. "My Queen," said her husband. "It will take her. We must act."

This had been her worst fear ever since her firstborn entered the world. She'd always hoped for the prophecy never to come true, but deemed herself foolish for such optimism. She thought that perhaps her second born would be accepted, but she turned out to be a boy. Then the third was a boy too. And then the fourth, fifth, sixth and still no baby girl. Her bravest warriors carried an orca to the temple as a peace offering, and it simply rotted away, untouched.

I have even birthed a little girl from another man only for her to die in just a few days.

It was enough.

"I will never allow the Water to take my only daughter," the Queen grumbled. "The ocean will burn to crisp before she participates in such "tradition"."

How many times had she stayed up to beg for mercy? Night after night she prayed and prayed and prayed, but her daughter only got worse. She was unable to swim alone, eat without help, or stay conscious for more than two hours at a time without her flourum; a rare and sacred substance used to maximise siren health. She was much weaker than a normal maid her age, and the light in the poor girl's eyes was dimmed. This Queen was tired of pleading and negotiating. It was enough. She was tired of seeing her weaken day by day, her brothers and father under so much strain and losing rest because of an unreasonable deity. It was enough.

It is enough.

"To land."

A deafening silence resounded in the throne room. Bodies were stiff, in shock and unmoving. Land? The father and son looked at each other in disbelief. They would try to change the matriarch's mind, but her word was as good as gold.