by Neha Yazmin
“They almost did take me,” she murmured. Wyett swallowed. “I nearly drowned in the sea the first time I went in it. It felt like the water had grabbed hold of me. I couldn’t move…”
His mouth parted. “How did you escape?”
“My mother.”
She told him about her mother coming to her, urging her to fight, to swim to the surface, that her family needed her. She didn’t mention the prophecy-like words Kanona had said—Adgar will drown in the sea, or it will burn—but Wyett believed every word that she did tell him. He didn’t question her sanity.
“I still don’t know if I imagined it…”
“You didn’t,” he said softly. “Your mother did come to you. She must have been gifted.” Wyett nodded to himself. “Nidiya has appeared to her descendants countless times, when they’ve been in dire need, offering them advice and wisdom. The sea folk had almost taken you, Aaryana, I’d say you were in dire need. So, your mother came to your aid. She had the same gift as Nidiya, and came to you.”
“So, my mother really is dead?”
“I would say so, yes.”
Her heart began plummeting, but she couldn’t lose hope. She wouldn’t. “But she had a sunlight stone, she—”
Aaryana refrained from revealing that she was wearing the very same sunlight stone that her mother had worn that day.
“If the sea folk fear the sunlight stone, why didn’t my mother fear it?” she argued.
The sea-bear feared it! That’s why it retreated when she’d faced it.
Touching the stone around her neck, she asked, “Why don’t I fear it? My mother was wearing one just like this around her neck.”
“Well, your mother wasn’t a sea folk. She was mostly human. Besides, no one really knows why the sunlight stone keeps the sea folk away, whether it’s fear or something else. I don’t know if Nidiya ever told her people about it…
“But she always reiterated that the sea folk meant us no harm. That doesn’t mean they don’t want to take you.”
“How is it that you’re so calm about this?” Aaryana’s brow furrowed. Wyett was taking all this so well, being logical about it, too. “About who I am?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m calm, just in denial, I suppose.” He swallowed; it seemed to hurt him.
“You don’t want to believe that—”
“Oh, I believe that Eena’s the godling you descended from.”
“Then, what are you in denial over?”
He twisted his head around to stare at the fire. “Let’s just say that, right now, I really don’t want to think about which godling I descended from.”
Very few people would believe it if you told them that Parth’s private bedchamber was so sparsely furnished. Yes, the bed was very luxurious and large enough to fit the entire Royal Family, but apart from that, everything else in the room—bedside tables, desk and chair, single wardrobe—was rather simple looking. His clothes, shoes, and accessories were in the closet—a room the size of his bedroom, which Myraa had already searched—so the wardrobe in here was empty bar the pyjamas hung for the night.
The bedside tables weren’t storing any books and there was nothing under the bed. Myraa felt silly looking under the mattress, but she usually sandwiched her most private possessions between the mattress and the slats of her bed frame, so she knew she had to check there. Nothing.
There was just one place in this room left to check, and she had left it till last. It was high treason to pick the lock of the desk drawer belonging to anyone in the Royal Family. If she got caught… If Parth figured out that someone had gone through his personal documents… It wouldn’t take him long to find out that Myraa had been in his chambers. Leesha would require even less time to order her beheading for the crime.
But she’d been lucky so far today. She wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if she didn’t take the risk. The old book had to be locked up in this drawer since it was nowhere else in this apartment.
Her heart pounded as she walked up to the wooden desk and reached for the drawer underneath. Just as she was about to bend down to examine the lock, the folded papers on the desk caught her eye. She had seen these sitting on his desk every time she’d been in here, but she’d never taken an interest in what they were. They were probably blank pieces of parchment folded together, or at least nothing important—they were on full display for any maid or servant to see.
Today, she noticed that they looked particularly old and worn. Carefully, she lifted the top page to see that the inside wasn’t blank at all. The writing across the page didn’t make sense for a few seconds because she wasn’t expecting to see them written there.
Tale of the Sea Princess.
With shaking hands, Myraa picked it up and found that this ‘book’ was simply a stack of parchment folded in half and stitched together across the fold. She couldn’t believe she’d found it. It was sitting on Parth’s desk this entire time! Her heart raced and her breath quickened. There was no way that she could remove it from this room. Parth would notice its absence immediately upon returning to his bedchamber.
She had to read it and tell Malin about the contents when they met up later. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long document. She wouldn’t need more than a few minutes to finish it—
“Lady Myraa, what are you doing here?”
Myraa’s fingers went slack. The fragile book slipped to the desk. It didn’t make a sound. She didn’t know how she managed to keep her body from jumping, how she was able to remain upright and silent.
Slowly, she twisted to face Parth standing in the doorway.
She bowed before saying, “Your Highness, I came to close the windows. It’s likely to rain tonight. I didn’t want it to—”
She stopped talking as Parth looked towards the open windows. Well, she hadn’t said that she’d gotten around to closing them, only that she’d come to shut them.
“But this caught my eye,” she said in what she hoped was a sheepish tone, gesturing at the book. “And I became distracted.”
It was better to admit this outright; it would look suspicious if she tried to shy away from it. He had caught her red-handed. Parth joined her at his desk and she stepped away. Backwards steps led her to bump into the bed behind her. She tried her best to not jump at the impact.
“That’s quite alright,” Parth assured her. His voice was smooth and friendly. “It’s actually very prudent of you to come and see to my windows. There’s always so much water there in the mornings of the rainy days.”
I know, she thought bitterly. You always ask me to clean your floor on those days.
Just as she was about to walk around the bed to shut the windows, Parth said, “And what was it that caught your fancy? Ah, the Tale of the Sea Princess. Have you read it?”
“A long time ago, Your Highness,” she replied honestly. “I can barely remember it…”
“Oh, I’m pretty certain you didn’t read this version,” he said as he picked up the book and flipped to the first page. “Until today. What did you think?”
She swallowed. “I didn’t actually start it—”
“A shame. I would have very much enjoyed hearing your thoughts on it.”
Myraa couldn’t believe her luck at the opening he was providing her. Still, she shouldn’t appear too eager. She made her expression wary and her tone slightly reluctant yet afraid as she asked, “You want me to read it, Your Highness?”
“No, no.” He waved the idea away and placed the frail text back in its place.
Myraa’s heart sank. This time, it was very difficult to keep her emotions under check. She could feel the disappointment dragging her lips downwards, creasing her forehead, and making her eyes blink sadly.
“There’s no need for you to read it, Lady Myraa,” Parth went on, “not when I know this story by heart. I can tell it to you, if you’re still curious?”
He walked up to her and she felt trapped between him and the bed behind her. Suddenly feeling brave, Myraa sat herself down on t
he mattress.
“If it pleases Your Highness.”
She knew he liked to watch her, had a strange obsession with her, so she decided to use it to her advantage.
Thankfully, Parth didn’t sit down beside her. “No, I won’t keep you from your duties any longer. Your Queen will not be pleased. Here,” he said as he went and picked up the book from his desk and held it up for her to take. “You can read it at your own leisure.”
For a moment, Myraa wasn’t sure how to react. Was he giving her the original version of the Sea Princess book? Would he have given it to anyone that showed an interest in it?
Before she could move, he added, “Make sure to return it to Queen Kanona’s collection, though. That’s where it came from.”
She rose to her feet and walked up to him. “If Your Highness is sure?” she mumbled as she took the old text from him.
“As long as you promise to put it back where it belongs and tell me what you thought.”
Bowing, Myraa thanked him and hurried towards the exit.
“Lady Myraa, wait.”
She halted in his doorway. “Yes, Your Highness?” Please don’t change your mind. Please don’t take the book back.
“The windows?”
Confused, she turned around. “The windows, Your Highness?”
He stared at her for a long time and she remembered just how much those eyes made her feel dirty.
“They’re open,” he said eventually. When she became more perplexed, he added, “You came to close them for the night, did you not?”
“Yes, of course! I’m so sorry, Your Highness.”
She placed the Sea Princess’s tale on his bed, jogged to the windows, and started securing them.
“I never thought of you as the easily distracted type…” There was amusement and affection in his tone. It made her want to vomit.
When she turned around after shutting the windows, Parth was standing by the bed, the frail book in his hands. It seemed as though he wasn’t quite ready to let it go. He didn’t say anything and she didn’t make a move towards him. She knew he wanted her to walk up to him to retrieve the book and her body didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But she couldn’t leave without it.
“Is there anything else I can do for you before I go, Your Highness?” Say ‘no’. Please say ‘no’.
“Why don’t you take a seat, Myraa? Maybe I will tell you all about the Sea Princess, after all.”
He had dropped her title when addressing her. She was just Myraa now. She wanted to run out of the room.
“You really don’t need to take the trouble—”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Myraa. It will be my pleasure.” When she opened her mouth to protest, Parth pointed at the bed and said, “Please, I insist.”
No choice but to obey, she went and sat down on the mattress, her heart thudding against her ribs. Any other day, he would have let her go. But today, he’d enjoyed the fact that she was being more verbose, less distant. He wanted more of it. It made her stomach churn to look up at him and wait for him to begin speaking.
“The Sea Princess was the Sea Goddess’s most rebellious daughter,” he said in an informative tone, “but also the most powerful. Despite her talents for rule-breaking, her mother favoured her above all her children. Or perhaps the Sea Goddess feared her?”
He shrugged and looked thoughtful afterwards.
“For years, the Sea Princess refused to marry. She only agreed to take a husband when it appeared as though her mother’s life was in danger. You see, one of the Sea Goddess’s generals wanted to challenge her for her Throne. He had amassed a lot of followers and made them see that the sea folk should not only rule the oceans but also the Kingdoms above water.”
Myraa felt relieved when Parth took his gaze off her and started pacing the length of the room as he continued the story.
“The Sea Goddess ordered her daughter to marry her general—he’d been in love with the Sea Princess ever since he’d seen her, you see, and the more she’d rejected him, the more he grew to love her. On their wedding day, he promised to love her so much that her heart would melt and begin to return his affections.”
In Myraa’s opinion, that wasn’t how love worked. She didn’t find herself rooting for the general, either. That marriage is doomed.
“Unfortunately, the Sea Princess was too restless, and her heart could not settle with her husband, now a Sea Prince. She wanted freedom and left the Kingdom.”
Just as I’d predicted, Myraa thought with a smug smile.
“Afraid that her adventurous ways would land her in danger,” Parth went on, pacing faster now, “and to save her from the Sea Goddess’s wrath—who was furious with her daughter for running away—the Sea Prince went in search of his wife.”
Alright, so perhaps the Sea Prince isn’t too horrible…
“He and his followers looked everywhere, and when they couldn’t find her, the Sea Prince realised that his wife must have left the oceans altogether. Gone above water.”
Myraa stifled her gasp. This part was what she was most interested in. She paid closer attention to what Parth said as he upped the speed of his pacing.
“Without telling anyone, the Prince went to land also. He knew the Sea Goddess would eventually come to the same conclusion that he had about his wife and she’d order her people to kill her daughter as soon as they found her above water. He had to protect her.”
Parth stopped his pacing and rounded on her. She knew it was to see her reaction to this part of the tale. And what he saw was her growing admiration for the Sea Prince.
“Did the Sea Prince find her?” she asked to break the silence. Hopefully, he’ll start pacing again. There was no getting used to his gaze and undivided attention.
“No,” Parth replied, “he did not. You see, the world under the sea is... vaster than you can imagine. It took the Sea Prince… a very long time to search every inch of it.”
Thankfully, he recommenced his pacing.
“By the time he came to land,” Parth went on, “his wife could have died if she’d given up her immortality. Nonetheless, he went from Island to Island, searching to no avail. As he did so, he found that he preferred to live amongst the humans and decided not to return to the sea, regardless of whether or not he found his wife. He was a God amongst men, why would he go back to bow to an ancient Queen?”
That last sentence brought back Myraa’s initial dislike for the Sea Prince. How arrogant. She recalled that he’d once wanted to overthrow the Sea Goddess from her Throne. And he’d married someone that didn’t love him. If he’d been a decent person—or rather, a decent sea folk—he wouldn’t have trapped the Sea Princess into what would be a loveless marriage for her.
“The funny thing is that his heart eventually became as restless as the Sea Princess’s,” Parth continued, “and he got bored with life above water. Having experienced all its worldly pleasures, what was there to explore or enjoy?”
Parth stopped to look at her, as though asking her that question. Luckily, he wasn’t expecting an answer.
“That old ache returned, of course. He wanted to fulfil his ambition of becoming a King. If he couldn’t rule the seas, he could rule the lands.”
“Did he become King?” Myraa blurted out. She bit her bottom lip, wishing she hadn’t spoken.
Surprisingly, Parth chuckled. “You’ll have to read the book to find out, Myraa.”
“Well, all humans descended from Ooshma, didn’t they?” Aaryana mumbled, somewhat confused as to what Wyett meant by not wanting to think about who his ancestor was.
“Yes,” he replied, still watching the flames behind him.
“Then, what’s there to be in denial about?”
Wyett took in a deep breath. “You remember the story of the First Queen, don’t you?”
Aaryana’s forehead creased. “Eena was her grandmother,” she murmured. “Aanug, the fire angel, was her father. She ended up being so powerful that she died of it.”
Finally, he turned to face her.
“And since you can will sea water to heal fatal wounds, I’d bet all the gold in my father’s coffers that you can will sea water to do a whole lot more. That makes you a gifted descendant of Eena.” He sounded almost angry about it.
But the anger didn’t seem to be aimed at her, so she didn’t dwell on it.
What did he mean about willing sea water to do a whole lot more? she wondered with a very small part of her brain; the rest of it was interested in where Wyett was going with this.
“I thought Ooshma’s and the First Queen’s powers had diluted out of their descendants over time?” she asked. “The First Queen’s descendants were overthrown, weren’t they, by an invading army? They were no longer strong enough to hold onto the Throne. No more than mere mortals.”
“Yes,” he said, slightly exasperated, “but what Quin and I didn’t tell you—Quin didn’t because she doesn’t know; I didn’t because I didn’t want to—is that even though the powers of Ooshma and the First Queen have whittled away to nothing in their descendants, every now and then, their powers—or a little portion of their powers—manifest in their descendants.”
Aaryana blinked in confusion.
Wyett went on, “Take the soldiers in Sidkat, for example. They’re so much stronger and faster than normal people, they must surely be the gifted descendants of Ooshma, who was physically the strongest and fastest of the godlings three. And all the fish we eat for our nutritional needs, they’re nothing like the higher sea folk, are they? But the higher sea folk, and the rare magical fish that are used in poisons and the such, they’re examples of Eena’s gifts manifesting in her descendants.”
Aaryana was beginning to understand, but she kept quiet, digesting everything. Wyett thought that meant she needed more convincing.