Pretty Fin

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Pretty Fin Page 16

by Smokey Moment


  Aterra looked off. She thought it was nerves. Marriages were arranged. All women waited to be married to the mate chosen by their family. Basra was one of the few who never married. She was orphaned. And so, there were no one to secure a mate for her. She lived off of the kindness of families in town until she was old enough to strike out on her own. The queen took her in as a servant. And Basra never left. “I should have paid her more attention. I don’t know my own daughter.”

  T

  he soldiers could see a large convoy of men swimming fast towards them. They were many miles from home, and they were fatigued. Everyone was exhausted from the constant search for Finora, and the weight of worry about their city’s future. King Zander was front and center. Flanked by two of his strongest guards, Sparrow and Arfusei. The eulachon army was swimming fast. They were on a mission. The King could see Prince Andreus. He swam over to where he was. And the men slowed.

  “Prince Andreus,” he greeted. “KING Andreus,” he corrected. The king looked piercingly at him. “King Orfe has passed?” he asked. “Yes. And he has been laid to rest,” he informed.

  “I am sorry for your loss. Were you traveling to Mojarro to inform me?” Zander asked. King Andreus gave a devilish grin. “No! I come for my bride. I am ready for my queen to be by my side. But I am hearing things. Rumors of her passing. Uaru soldiers remembered seeing her swimming through the waters alone. They say she can swim faster than any nermein. Any fish. So, it does not make sense, that she would have met with some terrible fate. Where is she?” he asked. The King could sense trouble.

  “She is fine. Alive and well. She simply needed a moment to herself. She felt rushed. I will send her as soon as she gets herself ready to start a new life,” Zander replied. The king’s men stood ready. Zander was telling a lie. A sign of trouble. She was not fine and well. They knew nothing of the sort. And if the king was resorting to lying, it was because he feared something. They braced for an attack. Something was not right. King Zander did not lie. And he did not fear anyone.

  King Zander’s men were intimidating. They were unwavering in their fierce eye contact with King Andreus’ soldiers. The Uaru’s stood near. There had never been a meeting in the waters. One with such threatening tension. The Uaru soldiers floated nearby, ready to intervene. Their numbers not that great, but it was their job to keep the peace in the water. If an attack was wielded by either side, they would need to try to resolve it. Eulachon and Mojarro were breaking the laws their ancestors set in place. The waters were off limits for such meetings. But it was also known that a princess was missing. If the meeting was to discuss a plan, then it would be allowed. But it looked nothing like a cordial meeting to them.

  “She has no time. I come to take her home. And nothing will stop me,” Andreus said, as he stared into King Zanders eyes. He would not be deterred. He was authoritarian in his tone. King Zander looked to his left. Sparrow acknowledged the look and stared back into the eyes of his enemy. The king looked over at Arfusei. He snarled and looked back at the opposing force, the soldiers of Eulachon. “Atttaaack!” King Zander shouted.

  Soon the force of men crashing into one another, made waves through the water. The vibrations, picked up by uaru’s further away. Their sensitivity to the waters movements was honed perfectly. A skill that naturally became enhanced with time spent in the water. And they could detect changes, down to the faintest of ripples. The uaru’s close enough to the men, tried to intervene. But the fighting was treacherous. Devastating. Men tore through the flesh of the man in front of them. Their nails sharp as spines. Their tails now massive pounds of flesh able to deliver a vicious blow.

  King Zanders men were larger. But they were outnumbered. King Andreus grunted, then charged at him. He charged back. Swooshing his tail around, and slapping Andreus hard in the chest. The blow, knocking Andreus back several meters. He shook the sting of the hit off, and charged the much older king. King Zander went to him, head on. Crashing into him. The shock of their weight combined, causing him to feel dazed. King Zander floated down. He had been knocked unconscious. King Andreus watched as he descended down. He smirked, then continued in battle. He had defeated the king. As he raced toward one of Zander’s soldiers, he was knocked back by the tail of Sparrow.

  Sparrow snarled at him, then charged again. His hands extended. He growled as he neared. He tore into his flesh. King Andreus yelled out. Sparrow had his nails dug deep into his chest. Soldiers came to aid him. One tried pulling Sparrow off of their king. Soon another came. Sparrow was surrounded. A guard named Ithicus swam up. He was King Andreus’ largest and most powerful fighter. He floated behind Sparrow. His nails sharp and long. His arms large and muscular. He grabbed Sparrow and dug his razor-sharp nails into the back of his neck. And with one powerful twist, pulled Sparrow’s head off.

  Soldiers continued to battle. Soon the water was teaming with floating bodies sinking to the bottom. The scent of their blood, calling predators from miles around. Uaru’s had already picked up the frantic movements of Tetra coming. Baika were more like scavengers, feeding off dead fish and would consume anything not moving. But Tetra would attack. They were large, fast and skilled hunters.

  The fighting ceased. The wounded prepared to leave the area. As large as their numbers were, they would be no match for Tetra’s in large numbers. King Andreus and his men gathered their wounded and headed back to Eulachon. King Zander’s motionless body was carried away by Arfusei and the saddened men that survive the battle. It was hard fought. There were no winners. Both sides had lost many men. And King Zanders was barely alive. His faithful and trusted guard Sparrow was dead along with countless others. It was all overwhelming. The men knew this was just part of a battle that would be fought again. The opposing king still had no queen. And now he would be vengeful and brutal in his quest to seize Mojarro and everything in it.

  The men swam back to land. They exited the water to families hoping their loved ones were among them. The looks on their faces showing the relief they felt that their son was alive. But some families were distraught. A few mothers wept. It was a sad day for Mojarro. Ninety three soldiers did not return.

  L

  ark had separated from his men. He swam near the dunes. He thought about that day, years ago, when Fin jumped into the lake at six years old. She had gone to the dune. Swam over it. The king spoke of how shocked he was, that she had been immune to its affects. Lark swam close. He stopped at the edge. He looked around. Why would she come here? There is nothing special about this place, he thought, as he tried to decide what to do. The clear blue water with low visibility over the dunes, due to the bubbles, had him curious. It was vast. No one had lived to talk about what was on the other side. Many had died attempting to travel over it and get to the other side. Some in hopes of riches. Others just looking to put facts with urban tales. It was said, that a beast lived in the mountains on the other side. A strange creature who devoured anything that got close enough to the lair. It was urban tales. Lark didn’t believe in it. But he did believe that the purpose of the dunes was to protect the lair. He just wasn’t sure why. Lark like many others, was unaware that the lair was the connection to the world that they came from. That Madaka was land created by a cursed demigod named Hershiel and his lover the goddess Contessa, Queen of the Ocean.

  Lark got close. Fin would go there to escape being caught. She would go knowing that no one else could cross it. Safe from discovery. Lark stared into the darkness. She’s there, he thought. Suddenly Lark could feel something approaching. He turned swiftly around. Two of his men approached. “Why are you here? I thought this area was forbidden,” one of the guards said. “It is. I am looking everywhere. I want every single area searched. Now keep looking. We’ll end soon. It will be dark. But leave this area. If I am not back at the reef soon, go back without me,” Lark said. The soldiers looked at one another. Neither thought it was a good idea. But Lark was in command. His orders were not to be questioned. The men swam away. Lark watched as they got fur
ther out of sight, disappearing into the water.

  He turned back around. He wanted to try. He would hold his breath and go in. And if he was unable to reach the other side, he would turn around. He was skilled at not breathing under water. He was friends with a man who became a uaru. The man taught him different tricks he’d learned. Skills that only uaru’s knew. It was part of their training. A necessity, in order to live in the waters safely when in areas where gases were seeping from the floor.

  Lark took a deep breath. He held it, then swam over the dunes. He instinctively swam a little higher. To keep from close contact with the heat and gases. The cooled bubbles reached his body. He continued on. The water got murkier. Visibility was changing. Lark panicked. He was almost a half mile in. This is crazy. I must turn around, he thought, as he swam quickly back to the edge.

  He took in water. He exhaled. He waited to see if he would get sick. He hadn’t taken in the gases but the bubbles had touched his body. Lark was fearful. No one knew what made the gas so lethal. It was a mystery that was never solved. The only thing known was the gas had caused the demise of all that had tried crossing it. But Lark felt nothing. He was elated. He had done the impossible.

  He was impressed with himself. The training he’d had years before had worked. His return to the edge was from fear, not from lack of oxygen. If he didn’t exert himself, he could use his oxygen reserve properly and get further. I have to find a way to go further, he thought. It was getting dark. Lark decided to return to the reef. He needed to plan another swim over the dune. He had a strong feeling she was on the other side.

  T

  he Queen walked the castle, deep in thought. Her daughter was gone with no word. No message. As if she had disappeared into thin air. Aterra believed she had to be dead. Fin would not stay away so long and not attempt contact. But then she thought of their last conversation. Fin was fed up. Angry. Disappointed. It was possible that her daughter went to live somewhere else. Maybe allowed to reside in Panga or Piratchu. She wondered if they were hiding her. Protecting her. Moving to another city was typically forbidden. But she was a princess. It would be allowed. Especially if she was living in Panga. It was well known that the King of Panga wanted Fin for his son. If she sought refuge there, they would welcome her with open arms.

  Her reasons for leaving were irrelevant. The queen just wanted confirmation that she was alive. She walked the halls, saddened and trying to find a way to forgive herself. She had played a part in her daughter’s unhappiness. But the reality of it, was hard to take.

  Aterra walked aimlessly through her home, uneasy and on edge. She came upon the room that her husband locked and never opened. She wondered what secrets it held. Why it was off limits. She was an obedient wife. Her husband asked her to never enter. And she never did. But things were changing. A tragedy had befallen them. And she was no longer sure she could keep that promise. Something was on the other side of that door. Something that possibly held the answers.

  There were changes around the castle. Fin’s disappearance was beginning to affect everyone. The citizens were asking if the queen would address them in her husband’s absence. They wanted answers. And Fin’s longtime nanny and lady’s maid Lillia, was away visiting family. She had been saddened since the girl she helped raise into a woman, went missing. Aterra could not help her get past her grief. She was too busy processing the pain herself. She was suffering in silence.

  She ran the conversation of that fateful day, over and over in her mind. Her lack of reply. Fin’s lack of understanding. And she wished she could take it back. Fin was not a baby any longer. There was no need to be so secretive. She would have questions. It was to be expected. She was different, just like her mother. But Fin had developed unexpectedly, and was able to live in water and form her tail. Aterra didn’t understand why she was never able to change. Why water was her enemy. But she was glad her daughter could.

  Aterra almost died when she tried to take water into her lungs as a child. A midwife and holistic doctor came running to the family’s aid. Her instincts and quick action breathed life back into Aterra’s precious lungs. The woman examined her and told Aterra’s mother, Queen Phaedra, that she did not know why the child could not breathe water. That she was deformed. That she had no openings on her sides. No inner membrane between her legs as they all had. The membrane necessary to form one’s tail.

  King Zaire was away when the incident occurred. The Queen asked the woman to keep it secret. She told her that the king would not want such information spread about his only daughter. The woman, fearing for her safety, kept the remainder of what she found to herself. She concluded Aterra was deformed and was paid handsomely to keep it to herself. The woman then relocated. Queen Phaedra swore silence, and forced the few eyewitnesses to Aterra drowning, to secrecy. Even on her death bed, she spoke very little of that day. Even when asked.

  Aterra had a vague recollection of a conversation she stumbled onto when she was a child, about her not being able to breathe water. A conversation between the king and queen. She remembered her father was uneasy. Defensive. As if he knew something. Phaedra always believed Aterra was orphaned and dropped at their doorstep. It was the story he told when he approached her holding the baby in his arms. Their son, the future king, young Prince Zander, at his side. The story played vividly in her head.

  Aterra remembered the story of how King Zaire entered his wife’s chambers. Queen Phaedra stood up then looked at his arms. She was in disbelief as her husband stood before her with a baby in his arms. A little red-haired girl. The child was all smiles. It was a touching moment for the couple. Phaedra always wanted a daughter. It was like an answer to her prayers.

  “She’s beautiful. Where did she come from?” Queen Phaedra asked, as she took held her in her arms. “She is orphaned. All alone. She is yours now,” the King replied. Phaedra gushed over her new daughter. “Does she have a name?” she asked. “No. What shall we call her?” he asked. Phaedra looked into her daughter’s eyes. She walked to the window and looked out. “We shall call her Aterra,” she replied.

  Little Prince Zander looked up at his mother. He was excited about having a new play mate. “Do you see the baby. This is Aterra. You must love and protect her,” she said, looking down at her son as he stood close by her side. He had a new little sister. Phaedra bent down so he could see her closely. Zander smiled. It was a dream come true for the family. Phaedra had tried to have more children, with no luck. Aterra was the daughter she would never have. It was a blessing from the gods. The answer to her prayers. King Zaire smiled and turned to give her a moment. He shut the door to give her time to bond with the new baby.

  “Let mommy be with her for a while. You can see the baby later. Would you like to go into town with me?” he asked his young son. Prince Zander nodded. The King took him by the hand. He could hear Phaedra talking to the baby. Telling her she was perfect. Beautiful. He walked away. He could never tell her the truth. Never say where the child came from because he did not know where he had been;

  King Zaire swam near the dunes. He had heard that men were seen near it. Men not from Mojarro. He was there alone. His guards unaware that he had taken on the mission by himself. King Zaire wanted no one near the dune. He had heard things. Stories passed down from generation to generation. His grandfather told him a story that seemed implausible. That the dunes was put there to keep them from joining the free world. That their very existence was the result of a war between gods. And that a Demigod named Hershiel, was punished for the crime of adultery, and sent into the sea to live as a fish. He was said to be the son of Apollo, god of light. And a mortal named Talea.

  He thrived and lived amongst the fish. And when his enemies sent a spy, a beautiful goddess of water named Contessa, they fell in love and she never returned. They hid deep in the Mariana Trench, and sought a place to live. Together they used their powers to blast a whole into the earth, leaving an opening that they would never reveal. And Madaka was created.

&nb
sp; The new world expanded, as Hershiel and Contessa forged through the land. They saw the future. Generations of a race of half human, half fish people that could live freely amongst their own. Soon, Contessa left Madaka. She found other gods and goddesses who wanted freedom from persecution. Three other sets of families. All having power in water. Able to live in it. Thrive in it. They each took their own land. And the four cities were born.

  But the gods found out and cursed them. They removed their desires and took away their sexual powers as punishment for their crimes. The new world was void of touch. Void of sex. Void of natural forms of love and intimacy. Only able to bond as close friends. Never feeling deep love and never experiencing sexual happiness. But the gods did not curse humans. And so, when Aterra was taken from the natural world and placed in Madaka, it set the stage for an awakening. And it opened the doors for a child to be born who would change their world as they knew it. A child who was the direct descendent of the original creator. The original goddess of the ocean.

  King Zaire knew that he was the heir of Madaka’s originators. That the dune was made by his ancestors. He wondered if that meant he would have immunities to the poison of its gases. The dunes that were home to the Dark Lair. It held the mysteries of their people. He swam over it. He inhaled a bit. He waited. Fears followed by feelings of foolishness set in. He questioned himself. He told himself it was insane. No one knew he was there. He would perish and be engulfed in the molten floor.

 

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