by Ledger,John
In my seventeenth year, I had yet to choose a mate. In my time that was like fruit withering on the vine. I personally had favourites which, unfortunately, had nothing to do with who I should actually be paired with. I was given until the next full moon to make my decision or it would be made for me. I was expected to procreate directly following that.
There were many stories in the top two tiers of the lighthouse that formed the library. On that day in 956AD, there were no people in the place of knowledge seeking council. It was a day of learning and all Keepers, Keeper hopefuls, and Keeper elders were in the great library. Considering it had been hundreds of years since Cleopatra had outfitted the lighthouse for the Keepers, the meticulous upkeep kept it looking fresh and perfect. Throughout the library, Cleopatra had installed large and elaborate statues of all the gods. Most of them had been debunked by the Keepers, although, being of the conviction that everyone should have their own beliefs, we just recorded our findings and moved on instead of making it public. One of the keys to our longevity was only providing Alexandrians with the knowledge that they requested.
I was curled up in my favorite spot in the uppermost story, between the feet of Anubis. While not the most comfortably place to lay my head, I always enjoyed the soothing coolness of his golden feet. I was indulging in my new favourite section. Some liked to call it sinister knowledge, believing that nothing good could ever come from it. The Keepers liked to learn mainly from the natural world, and because our counsel regarding religion was very limited, anything involving dark places and demons would have no practical application.
I was learning it all anyway.
Anubis was one of the few gods left that I had any belief in at all. I was reaching the end of two months of study on him and considered myself to be the foremost expert on The God of the Dead, having committed every written word to memory. The certainty that is death fueled my passion and belief. If death had taken the mighty Alexander and Cleopatra from us, there must be something to it and to its god, Anubis.
I was highly engrossed in a book of incantations for Anubis, chuckling over one said to increase penis size, when there was a tingling sensation that seemed to originate in the back of my skull, if possible, at my brainstem. I could always sense changes, like the coming of a thunderstorm on a beautiful cloud free day. But this was different, this was alarming. I looked around, and from the contented look on every face I could make out, no one else had sensed it. I wanted to run, but I was immobilized by fear. And then it began.
The earth shook and moved, and the library followed. Pillars holding the massive structure started to crumble around me. I saw a boy nearby, who had been laying on his stomach poring over a book on chariot racing, hit by a chunk so massive his head was flattened. His grey matter flew in one direction while the fecal matter chose the other.
That image gave my legs the urgency they needed. I kicked them up in front of me, arms scrambling to find purchase or Anubis to propel me forward. I thought panic was preventing me from moving forward, but I realized the statue was tilting sideways. It was supporting my weight, and I slipped with it. I came back to the ground from my half standing position and landed on the stone floor on my back. My wind and my sense were temporarily taken from me.
For the span of about eight seconds I knew nothing. This is coming from a girl who could record the details of every second, either awake or asleep, since her birth. My eyes flew open at the panic of nothingness just in time to see that Anubis had tilted on his base and was now falling forward. He crashed onto my feet, landing with such force I knew they were pulverized. I screamed. I had never screamed in my life. I screamed because even my incredible mind wouldn’t be able to save my feet, and now I was trapped.
I rode out the rest of the earthquake hopelessly pinned beneath the god of the dead, sure that I would meet him soon enough. The ground began to tilt wildly and everything began to slide. What was left of the library was headed into the Mediterranean and I was being dragged along with the statue, like a dead bug stuck on the bottom of a shoe, into the deep.
Anubis and I got wedged into a window frame. I could see well enough to know that no one in any story or any part of the library could be fairing much better. It wouldn’t have taken a Keeper to see that this day would be a disaster for all of the knowledge stored in the library and in the Keepers. Truly every subsequent lower floor just allowed for more debris to fall on it. The shaking stopped. The library groaned. I wondered if I was the last Keeper still breathing.
The sudden silence that descended was a reminder of the eight seconds in my life where there was nothing. I had to live and be a light, a guide. How bleak and empty this world would be without its true religion, knowledge. I started to cry, hoping for rescue, but not for myself. Rescue would mean the Keepers would endure. I was startled out of my sorrow by a large “crack”. The windowsill to my right was obliterated by the large spiral stone that once adorned the pinnacle of the library. The shifting began again and I knew there was no way this was ending except underwater.
I searched the face of Anubis, and from memory, an incantation sprang to my lips. I was reciting it effortlessly and with perfect intonation. The direness of the situation and the need to preserve the knowledge propelled it out into the sky. As we started our descent I could see the words materialize in the air.
We hit the water with such force my pulverized feet became unstuck. I would not be distracted by such trivial things. I was looking up into the water now, Anubis above me, I grabbed his golden face and shouted the remaining words, using the last of my air and my strength. I then tried to push myself from underneath him. Just as I thought I had made it free of his crushing weight, my back hit the sea floor and my feet were trapped, once again, but this time by the Ankh he held in his hand. The key of Life, I thought, now that is ironic. and I slipped out of all time.
I knew I hadn’t been dreaming or I would have remembered. I drifted into a world of semi-consciousness. It was murky and wet. I realized I was still underwater and no longer struggling for breath. I must have left the living after all. Really, what chance did I have? I was floating, and once the water began to clear around me (as much as it ever does in Alexandria), I could see that my feet were still pinned beneath the enormous Ankh of Anubis. My legs were held tightly together and I deduced that I must have been caught in the current for a while because they were completely wrapped with what appeared to be seaweed.
For a time I just bobbed around not knowing, for the first time in my life, exactly what to do. I took notice of what I could see. It seemed all of my clothes had been ripped away, but I supposed if I was dead it didn’t matter. I could see sheets of papyrus everywhere, losing their written words as they were saturated. My worst nightmare was coming true. Not my death, but the loss of the knowledge. I could make out a few rapidly disappearing words off a sheet that floated by me. I remembered the first time I read it, on a warm but overcast day, sitting with a light nearby, curled up against Anubis.
I suddenly seethed with anger, thrashing about, shaking my fists and shouting every curse I knew at Anubis. My words were swallowed by the water, it was useless. I stopped my flailing and looked down in surrender at what had once been my feet. Could it be possible? Had they managed to slip free a bit? I bent in half, pushing off the statue with my hands while wiggling my lower body from side to side. It was working!
As my feet slowly came into view, I was startled to find them wrapped in the same seaweed as my legs. As they revealed themselves, they became increasingly flatter and wider. I was baffled that, despite being crushed flat, I could still fan them up and down. After freeing myself completely, I rested on the sea floor and waited for the murk that was caused by my activities to clear.
When I could see well enough, I gave myself a thorough examination, starting at my head, assessing all my injuries. Minor really, but when I reached my waist I attempted to remove the seaweed and discovered I could not. My legs were now fused together and my skin was
an iridescent and scaly green. I had no legs at all! I had a tail - the tail of a fish. I really don’t know how long I stared, mouth agape and filled with water, at my tail. Such was my surprise that the acceptance of it, well, I had to give myself some time. Once I shook off my stupor, I clumsily used my new appendage to swim the short distance towards the gilded face of Anubis. I looked him square in the eye. He winked, then smirked before his face once again resumed the look of a statue.
He had found a way to save the knowledge. He had saved me!
In my head I made a plan. The first was to find a shirt, even if it wasn’t mine, in the debris strewn on the sea bed. The second was to seek out someone and share the news of my survival. The last being to seek shelter and help, because I wasn’t sure how my tail would work when I was out of the water.
When the earthquake had toppled the library into the sea there had been The Twelve Keepers of the Knowledge, thirty seven Keeper elders, and twenty five Keeper hopefuls. Even with the remains of the wardrobes of seventy four people, finding a shirt was exceedingly difficult. I had to settle on the upper half of a shirt with only one sleeve. My stomach was fully exposed, but at least my breasts were covered. Surely I would be forgiven, considering the circumstances.
I made my way towards the sunlight and was overjoyed to finally break the surface again. My smile was quickly distorted by panic as I struggled for breath. I tried to inhale so violently that my cheeks shuddered with the effort. Instinctively, I put my hands to my throat. As my strength dissipated, I slipped beneath the waves, and with my eyes starting to flutter close, I found I could breathe again. My hands found their way to the back of my neck, and though I could not see them, running my fingers over them, I knew I has gills like a fish as well.
It was a day full of firsts, to be sure. I have never, as the brightest Keeper of my age, felt so mediocre. Had anything of this sort ever been chronicled in any volume ever recorded, I would have been able to predict the outcome. It seems so brazenly obvious to me now that I would have perished out of the water. I suppose it was my belief and hope that the seemingly eternal respect of the Keepers of the Knowledge would inspire the citizens of Alexandria to rally around me when I could return to them.
As darkness fell, I began practicing in earnest with my new tail. I was learning the bounds of my strength, speed, and agility. I also trained myself to hold my breath out of water, popping up, waiting, and then more swimming practice under the surface. Little did I know that my first disastrous attempt had been witnessed, and each subsequent resurfacing brought more spectators. I could not fathom that they, my fellow Alexandrians, could be linking my appearance to the earthquake or that every sighting served to build hatred and fear. Nothing like this disaster had ever been recorded. I had to experience everything in the first person and discover it on my own.
It was near dawn when I settled on the bottom of the sea to nap. The sun was directly above me when I woke. I stretched and mentally prepared to surface. I swam to the edge of what remained of the lighthouse. I took a deep breath and emerged.
A child spotted me first and pointed, screaming wildly. The crowd turned at once. Immediately, a volley of stones were thrown. I ducked under the water quickly. Though slowed by the impact with the sea, some of the stones hit me squarely, but it was their hostility that wounded me. Didn’t they recognize me?
I swam under a nearby ship, where I knew I could seek shelter and I surfaced slowly. I was seeking to catch my reflection. I was glad to see my familiar face staring back from the water. I would say I was actually slightly more attractive (having been above average in my appearance before my transformation). My eyes and lips were darker somehow, my hair now voluminous black waves reaching halfway down my back. My pearly teeth were now rather scary and sharp, but my lips were ample enough to disguise them. As for the virtual daggers my fingernails had become, I could conceal them underwater. I didn’t think it was me that had them upset. It was the fact that they had lost their advisors. They were scared and they reacted out of fear.
I decided to surface, this time out of stone throwing distance, and use my words and the knowledge to soothe them. I knew, in this crisis, they were desperate for a leader and I could be that for them.
I rose out of the water to my waist, carefully not to expose my tail or my fingertips. More panic and rocks, as I expected. I remained calm, my eyes fixed peacefully on the crowd. I did not move or speak, and eventually all grew silent. I cleared my voice and prepared to launch into the speech I had composed in my head while the people had panicked.
I held a reassuring, closed mouth smile on my lips, opened my mouth and startled everyone including myself. I did not speak so much as emit a series of high pitched noises. I had taken a breath right from my diaphragm so it was deafeningly loud. Some people covered their ears while others screamed right back in horror.
I fell into a shocked silence while the din around me rose. All sorts of insults were being thrown at me, but one particular name caught, and soon was being chanted by the crowd. Bubbling over with malice, they spat the name “Seawitch” at me over and over again until a priest came forward. He raised his staff and the crowd was silenced.
He looked down out me with disgust and began an obviously well-rehearsed speech of his own. He said how the Keepers of the Knowledge had angered Ra by dwelling so high in his sky and how the Keepers were regarded as gods of men and Alexandria was being punished. He denounced the Keepers and decreed that all references to them would be wiped from history. He added that anyone, henceforth, making mention of the Keepers would be severely punished. “And you!” he added with a flourish ending in him pointing at me. “Seawitch, I see you have already been punished for your crimes against the gods. As the last of the Keepers of the Knowledge, you are banished from the waters of Alexandria. I shall make it known to any who may cross your path, how dangerous you are. See to it that you never return or I shall make your banishment a death sentence.”
With that, he turned and strode away, the people following him. I was so simply dismissed. Without words, I certainly could mount no defense, so I went back underwater for a much needed breath. With nothing or no one I could return to, I swam out to sea.
I spent many nights wandering. I discovered what I could eat and more of my abilities. I was, for the most part, thoroughly involved in mourning the loss of my former life and my fellow keepers. I wanted to sleep and would lie wherever I found a sandy sunny spot. I tended to do my wandering at night, to keep warm.
One cold and lonely night I gave up. I drifted to the bottom, laid and cried. My body shook with sobs and I screamed and screamed. Fish scattered, but still I carried on until I must have exhausted myself and fallen asleep. When I opened my swollen eyes it was well past dawn, warm and sunny.
Sleeping the days away had robbed me of experiencing the beauty of the Mediterranean. The colours and the sparkling water buoyed my spirits. A school of brilliant red fish swam by. I realized I had to do something to better my situation. I needed to find a way to communicate and find someone to understand. Anubis hadn’t cursed me. He had rewarded my dedication as a Keeper. He wanted the knowledge to survive, not to punish me like the priest had declared.
I swam to the surface and commenced work on my speaking skills.
I came upon an island and found a cave close to shore that retained most of its warmth at night. I began to be a creature of the sunlight again. I became so adept at conserving my oxygen that I could pass for human - well, from the waist up anyway. I managed to emit words again, but they were so high-pitched it would be difficult for anyone to comprehend them. On a whim one day, while perched on my favorite rocky outcropping, I burst into song. I found that using a highly soprano pitch I could properly form and enunciate words. It wasn’t scary sounding anymore. It sounded beautiful.
I then dedicated every waking hour to singing. I composed songs about my plight. I started to feel so much better. I made songs about Alexander the Great and the origin of the Ke
epers. I would not let the memory of them die. It was easily a year into my exile, sitting on my rocks, tail dangling in the surf, that I caught the attention of a passing ship.
When I saw that they had slowed to watch me, I doubled my efforts, my sweet song carrying out into the distance. Upon reflection, I must have been quite a sight. Between my tail and my bare breasts (the torn shirt having long ago given up the ghost) my appearance would have been alarming, and with all the stories in the songs, quite distracting. When the ship was wrecked upon the rocks, and the sailors tossed into the sea, I was overcome by regret. I knew most had been lost, though a few of the strongest swimmers made it to shore. I swam out to sea to avoid the sight of the carnage that I had caused.
I stayed away for the day and watched the sun go down. I resolved to be so much more careful going forward, but I needed to find someone who would understand. The knowledge had survived and needed to be passed along. From now on I would swim out to meet the ships. It was obvious that my singing skills could convey the message. It was time to find that person, the one who could be my ally and help me share the knowledge.
I found a new spot, where ships had slowed as they approached the land but not to close that I would be responsible for more deaths. I waited until another clear and sunny day and I made my move. A ship had anchored and sent three men ashore, presumably for supplies, in a small row boat. Rather than approach from behind and scare them, I surfaced in front of them and waited for them to notice me. First, one stopped rowing and pointed, hen the other two of them stopped and stared. I decided to break the silence by beginning my “song of explanation”. I sang soprano, but softly, so not to jar them. They gaped, open-mouthed, at me for all of twenty seconds before they started to scream. The tale of my ‘dashed-to-bits-on-the-rocks’ mishap had spread like wildfire. They were yelling about their impending death, to be caused by the maid of the sea, “Mermaid”. I couldn’t stand it. I sunk beneath the waves and swam away.