Kazimir transformed before he breached the surface, scanning the moonlit water and beach before he, in turn, beached himself. He scrambled to gather his clothes before they were washed away and dragged them on, shoving his hair - once again black - out of his face before attempting to draw the water away.
To his relief, the water dripped out of his hair and clothing, settled into a ball and he flung the water back into the sea, leaving himself dry.
He needed to get back to the palace and his rooms.
He could move water to his will, fine, but he had no idea what colour his eyes were.
They could be blue, or silver or mauve, any of those colours or more allowed him to play with water.
He scrambled up the beach and up one of the stairs that were built into the cliff.
From there he pulled his hair forward to shadow his face from the servants that were up and about in the early morning and made his way through the small private gardens that looked out over the sea to the left of the castle and slipped through one of the side doors.
At five in the morning, there were more than enough staff up and about but there were more shadows than servants so he slipped through the darkness cast by candlelight in the lower sections before stepping out into the main castle and slipping through the shadows cast by moonlight, dodging the patrolling guards and creeping passed the sleeping quarters of his companions.
He finally slipped back into his quarters, closed the doors behind him and ran for one of the adjoining apartments, closing the bathroom doors and turning towards the sprawling room.
He dug a box of matches out of one of the side draws - stuffed the necklace into the back of the same draw - and lit the candles as well as shoving aside the curtains to allow moonlight to filter in, anything to get enough light into the room to illuminate the mirror over the marble sink.
Holding the candle up to see his face, he groaned.
Amber.
His eyes were amber!
He would have the transform and retransform again until he got the right eye colour. That would be exhausting and time-consuming.
But he had no choice. How was he supposed to explain away the dramatic difference of his eyes?
Cursing his uncooperative facial features, he went back to his bedroom, dug a small hand mirror out of a draw only his servants ever had cause to go into, went back to the bathroom and sat down on the cold floor.
He stripped off his clothes - tired of the number of times he was sprawling around naked in such a short space of time - and transformed.
It was awkward and uncomfortable to be a merman on land. He had to wait for the full transformation to complete itself before he could turn back.
Once his legs were back, he looked at the hand mirror and met with golden eyes.
Right, once again. Merman to human.
White-eyes with black rings - that was a rare one.
Again then.
Pale purple - at least that was a closer colour.
Again.
Fiery red - completely wrong direction.
Sunlight yellow.
Gentle moss.
Dazzling magenta.
Again and again and again.
YOU ARE READING
Dancing On Ice
Fantasy#47 in Fantasy ~ All Aeralie wants to do is touch the sky. Instead, all she can do is watch the land - watch and feed her fascination with the humans Above. Kazimir is the exact opposite to his best friend. He has no lo...
