Ariel Slick - Royals of Sea and Song

To Gabriel,

You were the song before I learned to sing.

Prologue

L ife begins with me , with music. From the fiery magmas and boiling rains, I coalesced. Charged with the energy of the stars, a tiny seed formed, so tiny that it had no hope of surviving. Yet that seed grew and sprouted one thousand thousand different beings.

My waters turn and carry nutrients to the surface; I am a soup, feeding the world. Lava-rich waters bring vital minerals to the earth. I contain millions of wandering souls, returning to the origin to pass on the gift...and the curse. I breathe air into the atmosphere; I receive the poisons from land. It is my music that keeps every creature on the planet alive.

The others know this, those who live within me and cane can hear my heartbeat. Tiny shrimp keep the time, click click click. Waves carry the octaves. Migrations of turtles set the harmony, and the whales add their haunting melodies. But there are some who have forgotten, some who wont listen.

I contain deserts, forests, bogs, lakes, rivers, canyons, secrets, mystery, time. I hold the key to forces so powerful that none can survive their might. I spend my wrath without fear of debt. I am greedy; I am giving. I am life. I am death. I am the infinite.

Chapter 1

L ook at the tail on her!

Shes alright.

Just alright? Her hair is the perfect shade of violet, her scales gleam like these pearls, and her tail looks strong enough to fight off a squid, and you say she is just alright?

What about her over there, by the kelp? She is beautiful.

You were always fond of the bright-scaled, orange-eyed ones, Keltrain, said Rory, prince of the merfolk. He jammed his blade into a husk of the oyster and pried open the shell. A perfect, creamy pearl glistened from within. Rory plucked it from the fleshy bit, then scooped out the meat and popped it into his mouth. The rich, salty oyster provided a tasty snack.

The orange-haired merwym in the distance stopped swimming to wave to the three mermen harvesting pearls. Keltrain, Rorys Captain, waved back while Finley, his Royal Companion and closest friend, just smiled. Rory rolled his eyes.

Keltrain, if you spent half as much time on admiring whats inside their heads instead of their tails and scales, youd be beholden already, Finley said. Strands of his dusky pink hair floated in the water, although he kept most of it tied back with a piece of human fishing line. You could have a mate that you know would stay with you forever.

Says the merm who would mate with anything: a whale, shark, giant clam, or even a... human , laughed Keltrain. He swished his bright red tail, knocking it playfully against Finley.

Shafts of buttery sunlight pierced the turquoise waters around them. The water was warm and comforting this close to the shore. Around them, merfolk swam to and from the markets, mixing with the brightly colored fish, slithery eels, and swaying anemones. The markets were more like a game to the merfolk; everyone came together to trade whatever goods they might have, but only because it was fun. Everyone shared what they had in their kingdom, and why wouldnt they? To do otherwise would be greedy and shameful.

The surface of the water was an ever-moving ceiling of froth and light. Every once in a while, a sand crab skittered along the bottom, sending puffs of sand up, the grains glittering like gold in the light.

Besides, Rory said. Whats the use of being beholden anyway? He cracked open another oyster and placed a pearl the size of his eye inside his satchel. It would be great for sharing with the River Folk.

No one has heard from them for so many moons, though , he thought. But then again, the River Folk were strange mermen and merwym; they chose to live in close proximity to the humans, which Rory had never understood.

Not all of us are addicted to working, Rory, said Finley.

You say that like taking care of an entire kingdom is a bad thing, he replied. Besides, Im sure that an arrangement will work just fine for me. If it worked for my parents, then I dont see why I have to do anything different.

More than that, added Keltrain. When youre beholden, thats it. No more fun. You dont get long evenings of chatting, swimming in the lagoons, or taking long trips on the currents. Just roe and work.

And what do you know of work? Youve missed enough days to make the goddess Aergia seem productive, Rory said.

Finley laughed, but Rory frowned as he opened the next oyster. Instead of gleaming oyster meat, with a precious, ivory pearl inside, he found black necrosis. He sighed deeply, his gills flaring; that had been the fifth one he found this week. He would have to tell his mother, Queen Delriah. Normally, he would only find five in a whole year. But five in less than one week? Setting it aside carefully, Rory packed up his paring knife and satchel full of pearls.

I found another rotten one. Ive got to tell Mother about this, he said.

The sharp features of Finley scrunched themselves into a frown. With a slender nose, sallow cheeks, and pointed chin, Finley was nearly the opposite of Keltrain, with his wide forehead and square jaw.

Ill meet up with you prawn-heads later. Mind taking care of the rest of these? Rory gestured to the rest of the oyster field.

Sure, dont worry about it, Keltrain said.

I guess , Finley said.

Rory swerved his tail at Finley, who deftly dodged it.

He started swimming in the direction of the Coral Palace. The oyster fields were nestled in shallow reefs from the rest of the inhabitants of Pacifica. He waved at several passing merfolk, who were swimming to collect their days catch, visit the local healer for minor wounds, or watching their offspring play in the lively, colorful reefs. His tail beat through the water with purpose; although the loss of the pearls was disheartening, he relished setting off to do something about it. All Rory wanted was to be a great, kind king one day, and although his mother ruled for now, he loved any opportunity to fix any problem in the kingdom, no matter how small.

Then, from a distance, he heard the soft sound of crying. An older merwym hovered outside of her coral abode, her shoulders heaving in the familiar, painful way of desolation. Rory swam closer. Most merfolk lived in small caves carved into rock, and this merwym was no different.