The Savior

Prologue

The water was warm against his skin as he looked up at his unrelenting ruler. His braided hair was swirling in the current around him. The beauty of the castle was not lost to him, despite the unending knot of fear building in his stomach. He was wearing little more than worn a rag, and his body was battered and bruised.

His muscular tail- that, let's be honest, used to attract Mer of any gender- was now missing scales and sore. He'd been put through the ringer in her majesty's prison. And all for stealing- no, borrowing- a handful of gold.

"Oslan, is it?" The queen's voice was cold and calculated.

He wasn't going to dignify her stupid question with an answer, but one look at the guards' heavy clubs made him nod his head.

The queen's blank stare was enough to tell him that she was unimpressed. That she thought he was a coward- and he was not a coward. So he straightened his posture and spoke loud enough for his voice to echo through the hall.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness."

"That's what I thought." She leaned back against her towering throne. "Did you know that stealing from the crown is a crime punishable by death?"

"What?" He tried to lie his way out, "I never stole from you."

"Are you lying to me?" Her eyes tore into his soul. "Lying to the queen after stealing? That's high treason, I'm afraid."

He met her eyes, trying to portray the best of him. He was not afraid of death, he was not afraid of anything.

"Your crimes would have you killed," The queen paused, as if to see him cower. He would not relent.

"However," She continued. "I have heard that you have a talent."

"I have many, Your Highness." He snickered at the guards' shocked faces.

"Prideful, I see," The queen smiled. "Well, I have a job for you. If you can do this little thing for me, I will acquit you of all charges."

He weighed his options. There was only a slim chance that he could escape the death sentence, but he probably wouldn't like the job that Queen Bea had given him. After steady contemplation, he answered.

"I just might take you up on that."

The queen smiled. "Perfect."

That was three years ago. Oslan had become Queen Bea's personal assassin, and he regularly referred to his job as "doing her dirty work." He'd be brought back into his lonesome cell after every mission, and was only allowed to leave the castle when he was given a job.

He'd mourned the part of him that was lost to the queen's brutality. The part of him that would laugh and bask in the sun and court any eligible Mer. The part of him that longed to hear the nickname "Ossy," the part of him who was attached to his friends and wanted to see them again.

Now, he was afraid that Queen Bea would mutter their names to him, marking them for his next mission. He hated himself for the monster he'd become. He used to mourn the people he'd killed- the rebels he was once a part of. Now, it didn't affect him. Three years of betraying the people he cared about most, and now he was desensitized to it.

When the guards brought him out of the dark cell, he didn't question it.

Not until he was brought to the throne room and Queen Bea asked him, "Have you ever heard of the Prophecy of Nou?"

He shook his head.

"Of course, how typical of you peasants to be so uneducated." She shook her head, then continued. "There is a mermaid- sixteen years old, if my sources are correct- and she is in the realm of the humans."

Earth then. Great.

"She has been hiding from me for the past fifteen years, and it's time that she's brought home. If you can bring her back alive, I will let you live freely."

"Deal," He said, and wondered if he'd just sealed his own tomb.