8- Regret

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But a mermaid has no tears,
and therefore she suffers so much more.



That night, after Rayla was sure everyone was asleep, she quietly rose up from her bed and left the room she was meant to rest in. She found her way back to a hallway, the one with wide windows facing the ocean, and began searching for the door that led to the steps by the sea.

It was eerily silent at night, quite different from in the ocean. The only sound was the gentle crashing of waves upon the cliff side and along a far-off beach. In the ocean there was always someone awake, whether it be the village blacksmith who was like a father to her, or a baby dolphin sneaking away to play with a pod or rebellious children.

No one was awake here but her.

It wasn't too hard to find the door, as there was a small set of steps leading down to it, and the frame was covered in paintings of merfolk and sea life.

It was strange how humans romanticized the mythical creatures, yet feared the ones that did exist. The door was unlocked, so she gently pushed it open and slipped through the crack.

The steps that led to the ocean were a slick marble surface, several parts gently weathered down to the rough sandstone underneath. She gently walked down the steps, surprised to find that the pain in her feet slowly began ebbing away the closer she got to the water.

The bottom of the staircase was covered in the gentle waves of the sea, the water just high enough so that the sand below was nothing but a inky shadow of darkness.

She lowered herself down into the final step, sinking her bare feet into the ocean, where its icy waters cooled down the pain to a point where it was all but gone. The little water elf peered out over the open seas, where nothing was visible except it's constant lull and the vast expanse of stars in the sky, and the full moon that reflected its light across the ocean.

There were so many mysteries on the human side of the breach, so many undiscovered things she hadn't even had the chance to see.

Now she would never have that chance. She would never have to hear Runaan scold her for swimming off, or be able to sing the sweet songs and spells she'd dedicated her life to learning. According to those around her, she'd had the potential to be a siren eventually, with a voice soft and melodic enough to charm even a fellow Ocean Elf. A voice that was powerful enough to convince King Triton to grant her legs in order for her to fight along the border with her fellow elves, though Runaan would most likely protest immensely.

But her voice was gone, as well as her tail.

For the first time that day, the reality of what she'd done was finally starting to sink in.

She didn't care that the tide was continuing to rise up to the step she sat on, or that the hem of her nightgown was lined with the salt of the sea.

For the first time in who knows how long, she allowed herself to mourn.

A strange lump built up in her throat, and she found it hard to breath, her eyes stung in the similar way they had back when Viren had trapped her in his tower only the night before. As if they were so dry that her vision failed, only she could see just fine. She shut her eyes, attempting to swallow and clear the lump from her throat.

She'd only felt this way once before, on the night her parents disappeared, the day they had been brutally slain by humans that and crossed the border and drawn too near to their city.

It was as if her heart was breaking into a million pieces, as if her lungs were failing her.

She was no stranger to pain after this day, but she almost longed for the ache of magic draining her, if only for a moment of relief from this sorrow.

Rayla suddenly felt a small object fall into her hand. She peeled open her eyes and looked down.

There was a small, pure white pearl.

A mermaid had no tears. Pearls were the result instead.

When humans cried, the result was the presence of salty tears dripping down their face. However, mermaids couldn't cry. Their tears would only dissolve into the ocean.

Their tears took the form of pearls, precious gems of the sea, charged with powers any dark mage would kill to obtain.

The jewel seemed to glow silently in the dark, it's form reflecting moonlight and shimmering at its closeness to the water.

She let her hand fall down her lap, the pearl rolling off, back to the sea where it belonged.

She was an idiot.

An ocean elf on land? She was born from the sea, forged from sea foam like the rest of her people. The day she died would be the day her soul disappeared back into the depths.

She was a stranger to the thought of death. Elves, especially those of the sea, lived long, fulfilling lives, distant from the troubles of land and foreign to the world of war.

Soon another pearl joined the previous one in the water, it's blue glow being added to the other in the depths of high tide. Viren had stolen her voice, so she couldn't sing to forget her troubles. She couldn't hum the familiar melodies and send herself to sleep. She couldn't with away her legs in turn of a tail.

Her thoughts went back to the story Viren had mentioned, the one of the mermaid in the painting. She wondered if she had felt the same way at one point, if the legend had ever been real.

Rayla stood, pushing the pain to the back of her heart, and began her journey back up the steps and into the castle, leaving a trail of small, luminescent pearls rolling down the stairs and into the sea.

The Little Water ElfWhere stories live. Discover now