《Pearlasia》


 Death By Hiccups

    She had never considered herself a delinquent. Until now. The mermaid glanced back at her spongebed, where pillows, positioned to mimic her body, floated atop just right. She lifted the window as quietly as she could, then paused to listen for any signs of an impending interruption.


    As she leaned over, her tail knocked her glittering crown from its shelf. A flash of panic jolted through her as she snagged it out of the water before it could reach the ground. She swore she heard fin swishes ¡ª the hiss of fins through the water ¡ª outside her door, sweeping fast. A moment of terror came over her. She swam in a tight circle before coming to her senses. It was now or never.


    Satisfied, she slid her arms and head through the window, then whirled out into the night. In better light, you could see that the mermaid was a striking, ethereal figure. Her deep maze of honey and marigold eyes, the kind you could get lost in, glowed eerily in the dimly lit noir. Prominent ebony markings along her forehead signaled that she was of royal blood. Upon first glance, her scales appeared gray and tarnished. But as she meandered cautiously, her tail exposed a phantasmagoria of prisms and colors: lilac diamonds, aquamarine gems, onyx lattices. On each side of her half-moon lilac fuzzes sat starbursts of silver and peridot gills that tinged red with anticipation. She adjusted her tankini. It didn¡¯t exactly squeeze in all the right places, but it would have to do for tonight.


    She swam across the castle, layered in golden metallic strips. Looming above, the glimmering palace evoked the illusion of light flickering off walls like abalone. She beat her fins rapidly to blend in with the exterior¡¯s visual effect as she lowered bit by bit. At last, she reached the gate. Crouching down, she felt around until her arm discovered a cut-out hole. She squeezed tight and plopped unevenly through the narrow exit. Now on the other side, she saw someone darting away in the distance. With a great flip of her tail, she too disappeared out of sight, eager to catch up.


    Her best friend, Athena, with fiery red hair and elaborate jade and obsidian-inlaid braces, slowed to a standstill. ¡°No crown tonight, Princess Pearlasia?¡± she goaded.


    Pearlasia brushed past Athena. ¡°You know I don¡¯t believe in hierarchies. I hate when you put me on a pedestal.¡±


    ¡°Without that crown, you give me no choice but to look down on you.¡± She reminded the princess, ¡°When you get to rise, so do I.¡±


    Despite Athena¡¯s ego, Pearlasia considered her the coolest mermaid in the sea. Athena¡¯s father rose to become a general in the military around the same time Pearlasia¡¯s father became king. They grew up together and were practically sisters. Athena was her best schoolie, the one mermaid she trusted the most to school to the end of the ocean with.


    They swam down to the castle¡¯s moat, at the entrance of the swimway, where merfolk ebbed and rushed through a free-forming tunnel, hovering like underwater ghosts. During rush hour, swimway traffic would grow so dense with mermen that you couldn¡¯t see past six feet. But Pearlasia, like most mer-teens, had never been in the swimway unchaperoned before. ¡°I thought you snagged us fake permits?¡± Pearlasia asked.


    Athena shook her head. Pearlasia balked. Although she was psyched to sneak out, she couldn¡¯t rationalize crossing into the swimway. Now, Pearlasia was on the verge of committing another crime: swimming without a permit.


    ¡°I bought us concert tickets instead,¡± Athena said as she held up two stamped pieces of sandpaper. ¡°Can you believe it? Fifty sand dollars for a dusty lawn!¡±


    Pearlasia could believe it, though. They were sneaking out to see the Beluga Melody, the most famous band in the sea. Pearlasia thought about the consequences, which paled in comparison to seeing her favorite band of all time.


    Without warning, Athena illegally hopped in with the school of mermen whipping past. Her back arched with abandon, her dorsal fins flattened, and her hair fanned out in a deluge. Pearlasia scanned the water in astonishment, then envy. She wanted in.


    As if reading her mind, Athena rounded the moat a second time, then jutted her arm out and pulled Pearlasia inside. The rush was so intoxicating that urine tinkled down Pearlasia¡¯s rear pores. The short window of time they were flying along the swimway seemed like an eternity. And as they neared their destination, it took everything inside Pearlasia to halt and peel away.


    ***


    They arrived at the venue with less than five minutes to spare. Pearlasia and Athena were fortunate enough to press their way from their assigned section up to the front row. Swiftly, the curtain on the outdoor stage pulled back, and a blanket of fog swept the audience. The infamous white whales of the Beluga Melody sliced through the clouds, their long necks flowing back to their elongated bodies. The lead beluga whale peeled drag as he skated through the gush of water, squeaking out a haunting cacophony. The vibe was as raw and untamed as Pearlasia had imagined it would be.


    For most merfolk, who relied less on visual senses, music was the heart of their society ¡ª mermen communicated primarily through song. Verses of grand ballads served as repositories of the ecological knowledge that helped their species survive, even through years of rampant disease and low prey abundance. Merfolk¡¯s euphonious language held tightly onto secrets that allowed them to dominate the sea.


    But their songs were not like those of humans.


    In fact, a human couldn¡¯t hear a merman even if he tried. Mermalian songs extended beyond words. Music was something to experience, something to feel. Vibrations flowed through Pearlasia¡¯s limbs, her chest cavity, and tingled through her spine like an emotive blood vessel. As the vibrations stimulated her body, the muscles spasmed and contracted into a dance. When the lead singer described his first love, Pearlasia ¡ª although she herself had no experience in that department ¡ª could perfectly vibrate a mirror image of his agony.


    Pearlasia belted out pops and squawks and whirrs and clicks as best as she could. Normally, it required an average of three years for a mermaid to master an entire call, or ballad. But Pearlasia was determined to learn the entire Beluga Melody album by the end of the summer, just in time for ninth grade. Each call could last for hours, and most varied every time they were expressed. A call, when done right, could travel thousands of miles through the ocean while remaining imperceptible to the human ear. Those who mastered calls, especially those as complex as the Beluga Melody¡¯s, were highly respected in society. Singers were the record keepers, like swimming libraries.


    Together, Pearlasia and Athena trilled and grunted and clicked and moaned like foghorns. These songs were more than music ¡ª they were prayers. And this particular song, Unrequited Anguish, was a prayer for Pearlasia on the eve of her fourteenth birthday.


    ***


    From outside the castle, Pearlasia gazed up at her bedroom. The window was closed shut, not as she left it, and a hard ball of dread settled in her stomach. She lifted the doormat, checking for the spare key. Suddenly, the door swung open, throwing harsh light over her. Isis, their palace-keeper, burst out. Pearlasia hesitated, fearful.


    ¡°Happy birthday, princess,¡± Isis managed. Not wanting to be rude, the princess replied with a curt thank you.


    The maid was a petite woman, yet somehow she carried the entire castle on her shoulders. Her stoic demeanor scared Pearlasia. Quite certain she was in trouble, Pearlasia grimly followed Isis to the kitchen.


    Isis had finished stacking three tiers of a soft-shell crab cake, coated in edible gold flakes, on a cake pedestal. Manatee whipped cream drenched each layer. Pearlasia¡¯s mouth watered as she sat down at the counter and sampled the creamy icing. Isis didn¡¯t budge. ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you going to eat with me?¡± Pearlasia questioned.


    She just stared at Pearlasia, her soulless eyes unblinking. Although Isis was the help, she preferred to take the lead. She bowed to no one, not even the king. ¡°I suppose one bite wouldn¡¯t hurt,¡± Isis said as she cut two servings. Pearlasia added a few spicy fish flakes, her favorite condiment, onto her slice before taking a bite. She didn¡¯t expect to eat more than one helping, but the cake was so delicious. Each morsel melted instantly on her tongue, releasing a ginger aroma, followed by a slowly intensifying spice.


    After a while, there were only a few bites left of the entire cake. Isis let out a great belch and bid her a good night. Soon after, the princess found herself alone in the kitchen.


    Pearlasia had a hard time going to sleep that night. So, she stayed up, wondering if fourteen would be so different from thirteen. For the first time, she would enroll in a public academy, rather than learn from a private tutor. She¡¯d have a chance to make friends outside of her brother, Triton, and Athena. She might even meet a merboy and fall in love, like the lead singer of Beluga Melody. Hopefully, he wouldn¡¯t break her heart. Eventually, dawn came, and Pearlasia¡¯s restlessness finally gave way to sleep.


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    ***


    Upon waking up, Pearlasia started to hiccup and was unable to stop. She didn¡¯t mind the first bubble as it floated from her mouth. Hic. But she couldn¡¯t contain her frustration when the next shimmering droplet followed and hung inches away from her nose. Pearlasia tried the usual remedies. She held her breath, hic, imagined scary thoughts, hic, and downed the disgusting salty water around her, hic, hic.


    No matter what she tried, every thirty seconds or so, her chest would convulse. The involuntary gasps of air resulted in one gossamer sphere after another. She ran her hands through her curly lavender tresses, out of options and deeply annoyed. Any day but today.


    Floating in her spongebed, Pearlasia stretched her arms out and looked around the opulent room. Outside, a sea bass stared through the window. It was as if the fish looked straight through Pearlasia, all-knowing, providing her with an imprint of her own gaze.


    ¡°Pearlasia! Happy birthday!¡± she turned around, caught off-guard by her brother, Prince Triton. Even at sixteen, Triton still had a cherubic baby face. Everyone was puzzled about exactly where his dirty blonde coils descended from. Pearlasia had a few ideas, but she kept those to herself.


    Even though their bedrooms were right across the hall, Pearlasia and Triton had a gaping disconnect. She didn¡¯t remember exactly when it started. But when they were merchildren, merely fry, the two were the best of friends. Pearlasia would collect seashells and Triton would hoard all the pebbles. They used their trinkets to decorate sandcastles, the kinds that required lots of forethought and extraordinary determination. Their first attempts at sandcastles were replicas of where they resided, with two wings and a shimmery layered exterior, surrounded by a circular moat. Later models incorporated whole militias of sea beetles, painted flags, and chemicals to bleach the sand stark white.


    But as time went on, Triton no longer wanted to play king, he wanted to emulate a dictator. It started with demoting Pearlasia to a builder rather than a mer-queen. Triton¡¯s madness grew until he was fully in charge of the entire process. He belittled Pearlasia every chance he¡¯d get. Over time, he decided that building sandcastles was for ¡°babies and mermaids¡±.


    Triton left Pearlasia no choice but to throw all her energy into Athena, who was coming around more frequently for play dates. But sandcastles, some imaginary and some real, continued to topple down on Triton. Their parents referred to this time as Triton¡¯s troubled stage. It got better with time, but the relationship between the two siblings was never the same. Pearlasia just wanted her brother, her confidante, back. If only he¡¯d say the word, she wanted desperately to tell Triton that she¡¯d build him a fortress out of sand. A place where he wouldn¡¯t have to prove himself as a prince.


    A place to just be.


    Triton pounced on Pearlasia¡¯s comforter of fuzzy Pompeii worms. ¡°You¡¯re all over The Sand Print!¡± he remarked. The Sand Print was Atlantica¡¯s local newspaper, printed on slabs of pressed sand daily. Triton showed her the cover.


    Pearlasia cocked an eyebrow. She hardly resembled the sketch. ¡°What does it say about me?¡± She nestled under Triton¡¯s slithery, orchid blue tail while he read aloud.


    ¡°Same thing it says every year. Despite being one year older, Princess Pearlasia has yet to part sand. ¡®Without demonstrating any gifts or powers,¡¯ an inside source warns, ¡®It will become increasingly difficult to marry her off.¡¯¡±


    Clearly, Pearlasia thought, this inside source didn¡¯t know anything worth sharing. But the worst she or her family could do was counter the information. That would only provide false credence to the rumors.


    Pearlasia snatched the paper out of Triton¡¯s hands. ¡°What do they-?¡± she paused mid-breath. Hic! This time, the bubble that emerged was more enormous than the last. It was massive!


    ¡°Woah!¡± Triton gasped so hard that he flipped backwards. ¡°Do that again!¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t want to,¡± she protested.


    ¡°Try some sea poppy.¡± Triton winked as he headed out the door. ¡°Works every time.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that what got you kicked out of the Academy in the first place?¡± His smirk was a glaring admission. Thanks to getting caught with an inhalant, Triton was now forced to repeat his freshman year.


    ¡°You can¡¯t get kicked out if you take a leave of absence.¡± There was no getting through to him, Pearlasia considered.


    In solitude again, she fell back on top of her covers. Pearlasia just wanted this all to be a dream. She tried going back to sleep, so she could wake up and be an unassuming thirteen-year-old again. But the more she yawned, the more she hiccupped.


    She counted backward to the last entry on her wall calendar: two weeks and one day. Over two weeks since Pearlasia missed her period. She was too afraid to tell anyone. She slipped out of bed and pressed her palm against her usually flabby tummy. It felt rock solid.


    Pearlasia lifted her shirt to her chest, then pivoted to her reflection toward the bedroom¡¯s glass wall. The gravid patch, the area where a mermaid¡¯s abdomen met the tail, appeared slightly more olive-toned than she remembered yesterday. Hic. Another bubble escaped from her mouth and swirled around the corner of the room like a tsunami-brewing funnel. Not wanting to spend the day brooding with bad energy, she smacked the bubble between her palms and popped it. Pearlasia seriously wondered if the next hiccup would kill her.


    ***


    Light fell through the partially open ceiling into the hallway, dappling Pearlasia¡¯s cheeks. As she entered the dining hall, the dripping cloud of bleakness above her announced her melancholy without a word. Pearlasia peered from the corner of her eye at her mother, Queen Amphitrite, waiting impatiently with her arms folded. Deep wrinkles of concern creased under Amphitrite¡¯s eyes. And yet, underneath all the stress, her mother¡¯s curly brunette hair, green eyes, and perfectly shaped fish lips yielded an unmatched beauty.


    Amphitrite was unlike any queen that came before her, a fact that filled Pearlasia with both pride and dismay. Unlike her predecessors, Amphitrite once held the title of Miss Atlantica. Her sophistication, coupled with her incredible shapeshifting abilities, made her first choice as queen throughout several kingdoms. Together, she and King Poseidon were a force to be reckoned with. It was rumored that Poseidon had eyes and ears everywhere, and no one was above reproach. But unlike most mermen, Pearlasia knew better. The driving force behind her father¡¯s ambition was none other than the queen.


    Amphitrite finally broke the silence. ¡°Out all night, I suppose?¡± Not wanting to get in trouble, Pearlasia shook her head no. ¡°It¡¯s one thing to bail on your brother and I for breakfast, but I will not allow you to disgrace your father!¡± She pressed her lips tightly together in a fury.


    Suddenly, Amphitrite snatched Pearlasia by her right ear. ¡°Ouch, mom!¡±


    Amphitrite dragged her into the outdoor hallway that split the castle into two. A hydroponic garden fluttered in the center with begonias, lemon-yellow poppies, and rose quartz lotuses in full bloom. A golden mesh canopy stretched above the garden to create an ombr¨¦ shading effect from the flickering sun rays. Amphitrite dragged Pearlasia around half the garden¡¯s length before exiting through an oval door.


    Reluctantly, Pearlasia entered through the foot of the grand staircase. The castle decor suddenly changed from lighthearted to intense, as thousands of calcified shark teeth jutted out from the walls and ceiling in the space. Limestone and gypsum rods on the wall suspended Bushels of Neptune to form a hanging garden. Shadows of sharks¡¯ teeth created a directional vortex that led upstairs and into the throne hall.


    Immediately upon entering the hall, Pearlasia and Amphitrite curled their fins upward until their tails reached their foreheads in a ceremonial bow to none other than King Poseidon.


    Poseidon was a handsome half-man, half-fish god with a sturdy build and a bottom half likened to an electric eel. Pincers stuck out from his temples and sliced through his jet-black hair down to his beard. He sat atop an open shell with orca whales chained at its end.


    ¡°Pearlasia!¡± Poseidon¡¯s voice boomed as the two broke their poses, ¡°Happy birthday, my future queen.¡± Filled with glee, Pearlasia dashed across the concrete floor to her father¡¯s throne. Poseidon lowered his spear as Pearlasia elatedly hobbled up to the arm of his throne.


    When Pearlasia talked to her parents, she spoke only in the highest manner ¡ª with grace and class. Gods knew Amphitrite would have it no other way. ¡°Thank you, father,¡± she replied with a beaming smile, then snarked, ¡°I still haven¡¯t received a ¡®Happy Birthday¡¯ from my dear mother.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Poseidon sighed in disdain. ¡°I wish you two would get along.¡±


    Amphitrite, now also at the throne, folded her arms again and gave Pearlasia the stare down. Knowing her mother would never budge, Pearlasia smiled to lighten the mood.


    She got the urge to burp again. Her gills opened and took in the water, which tasted sugary but smelled acrid. Then a slight rumble made her head spin. Overcome with an unknown sensation, Pearlasia¡¯s neck started to stretch unnaturally. Vessels around her eyes enlarged and darkened to black. Pearlasia let out a forceful grunt as tears suddenly took over. She slumped off the throne, down the stairs, onto the floor. The pain became too agonizing to fight any longer, and somewhere, deep inside, Pearlasia could feel her heart giving up.


    Hic.


    A bloody bubble, the size of a pear, ejected from her mouth. Amphitrite screamed while Poseidon rushed to grab his daughter. By the time Poseidon scooped Pearlasia in his arms, the princess had already suffered a thousand small deaths.

 I Am Nothing

    Pearlasia dozed in her sponge bed for the rest of the day, with Amphitrite praying over her. The princess would periodically wake up, alarmed, and feel a stranger¡¯s hand brushing against her face, only to realize it was her own. She could hear Amphitrite¡¯s voice, urging her to breathe, just breathe.


    Pearlasia finally came to lucidity late in the afternoon. She found Amphitrite and Isis sitting beside her. Isis smiled and placed a warm towel on Pearlasia¡¯s forehead before exiting to give the daughter and mother some space. In silence, Amphitrite took Pearlasia¡¯s hands into hers. It felt reassuring, to Pearlasia, to have her mother nurture her.


    It had been almost a decade since Amphitrite last held her hand without smacking it away. Like Isis, Pearlasia recalled, Amphitrite was allergic to feelings. At least, the kind Pearlasia needed right now. It was ironic to Pearlasia how most commoners found her mother so sentimental and kind. Mermaids were drawn to Amphitrite¡¯s relatability, while men and children deemed her the perfect combination of witty and charming. When Amphitrite was good, she was very good. Yet, somehow, that goodness never trickled down to her own family.


    Now that Pearlasia had her mother so close, she refused to complain. She didn¡¯t want to let go. Breathing easily, Pearlasia noticed the hiccups were gone. Relieved, she tried to sit up, but Amphitrite pressed her back down, gently. ¡°Unlike a merman,¡± her mother explained, ¡°the natural horizontal position of a mermaid is precariously balanced between birth and death. You should remain on your back until it all passes through.¡± Amphitrite explained further that Pearlasia¡¯s position, laying down, helped relieve pressure.


    ¡°What¡¯s inside of me?¡± Pearlasia¡¯s mind skipped to the worst. ¡°Am I going to die?¡±


    ¡°You could, but I won¡¯t let that happen,¡± Amphitrite reassured her. Pearlasia started to cry. ¡°Pearlasia, you¡¯re a fully-developed mermaid now, and there¡¯s nothing to be afraid of. The hiccups, the blood, the pain happens to all royal females. The depth of the ocean puts enormous pressure on a mermaid¡¯s body as it matures. And if the gas bubbles release any other way, it could cause a life-threatening embolism. By not coming to me immediately, you put yourself at a considerable risk of bleeding out.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like you ever told me about any of this,¡± Pearlasia snapped. Even her tutor had skipped the talk.


    ¡°I thought I would have more time, as royal blood normally comes a few years after your monthlies,¡± Amphitrite confessed. ¡°But like everything with you, you¡¯re always a tad too early.¡± Amphitrite pinched her fingers to a smidge, just a tad. ¡°I swear, even when I was a month in, you¡¯d find the worst ways to tease me, with your kicking and bouncing. My lips would purse into this crazy figure eight, then an awful whistle came cackling, and my alarm bells would ring off!¡± At least, that¡¯s how Amphitrite remembered it.


    ***


    Amphitrite narrated that on that day, nearly fourteen years ago, the water was extremely frigid for early spring. A late winter storm crowded the surface with icebergs. Sun wouldn¡¯t shine through Atlantica again until the ice melted in autumn that year. ¡°Blocks and slabs, the size of buildings, were everywhere!¡± Amphitrite described excitedly. Within those milky waters, there was something lovely about the ice islands. ¡°As I¡¯d get close to the dazzling white behemoths, they¡¯d reflect off my rising belly like a prism of diamonds.¡± Amphitrite would stare into an iceberg every day for good luck. Then one morning, her image no longer refracted. Her count must have been off. Amphitrite wasn¡¯t expecting to release her egg for another month or so. Yet subconsciously, that was when Amphitrite knew that it was time.


    Later, Amphitrite put on a gilded cowrie choker for good health and protection as a mother-to-be. On the one hand, she shared, it was an incredible gift to bear another child. On the other hand, she was experiencing a difficult pregnancy and would love nothing more than to spit her larva out already. Amphitrite felt selfish bringing another child into this cruel, unforgiving, glorious sea ¡ª let alone a daughter.


    She knew that the burden a future queen must endure in meeting a kingdom¡¯s demands would never let up. No one ever told Amphitrite how exhausting it would all be. She was glad to have this time alone to tell Pearlasia the truth. ¡°The worst job you can give to a mermaid is that of a queen.¡± It didn¡¯t make sense to Pearlasia. ¡°Soon enough, you¡¯ll see.¡±


    Amphitrite remembered Isis ogling at her with skepticism in regard to the gender reveal. ¡°You have no way of knowing if it¡¯s a boy or girl,¡± Isis said, while escorting Amphitrite to the nearest breeding cave. But Amphitrite felt certain.


    Inside the cave, gleaming-white teardrops, the size of hands, suspended from coagulated beads up on the ceiling. There were hundreds of mermaid¡¯s purses, transparent egg cases of future mermaids and mermen. Elderly mermaids, known as purse snatchers, who lived and worked at breeding sites sat with their backs pressed firmly to the walls. They were constantly on guard, with their necks craned, as they waited for eggs to hatch. When Amphitrite announced herself, in her beautiful singsong cadence, the purse snatchers¡¯ ears perked up. Never had a royal figure, or any figure, come to that cave.


    One purse snatcher rose from her stance and propelled over to them. She gave Amphitrite a bundle of sea grapes. ¡°Chew them all and swallow, or else the pain will be intolerable.¡± Squeamishly, Amphitrite plopped a grape in her mouth and slowly chewed. It tasted gross, she recounted, like a mixture of black licorice and vinegar.


    Then, the purse snatcher said a prayer for good luck. Nothing happened at first. Finally, a colossal belch erupted from Amphitrite¡¯s throat and the cave filled with her foul stench. She interrupted the burp with a coughing fit, spitting out a mixture of dark blue amniotic fluid. Then a shock of pain sent Amphitrite down to her hands and knees. The purse snatcher shouted encouraging platitudes, none of which Amphitrite cared to comprehend. She tried to curse, but with every attempt of lashing her tongue, her throat tightened more.


    The queen gripped harder to the cowry shells as her stomach compressed and expanded. Isis grabbed her hair as she vomited some more, and this time the fluid was tinged with her blood. In it, the elder spotted a mermaid¡¯s purse. Amphitrite caught a glimpse of her embryo, with the same black markings as she and her mother. ¡°You were right,¡± Isis admitted. ¡°It must be a girl.¡± Isis wiped away thickening blood from Amphitrite¡¯s crimson-stained smile. In that moment, Amphitrite finally understood the complexity of motherhood. ¡°It felt like being stung by a blow, and then I was mesmerized,¡± Amphitrite told Pearlasia. As the queen continued to share her daughter¡¯s birth story, Pearlasia could sense a bond forming between them. She would do anything to please her mother ¡ª at any cost.


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    ***


    Hundreds of feet above, in a pocket-sized cave, a wonderpus octopus named Wynter stacked clamshells at the entrance. She squeezed her beige and rust-colored arms through the tiny opening. Then, Wynter flattened her bulbous body and vanished inside. Like Amphitrite, but fourteen years later, she too was a mommy-to-be. But, unlike mermaids, most octopuses never got a chance to bond with their future spawn. For Wynter, there was no time like the present.


    Now with the temperature just right, lukewarm but not terribly hot, Wynter expelled her eggs, one by one, around the cave. Her gelatinous eggs, each the size of a grain of rice, floated freely about the den. Wynter estimated there must be thousands of them.


    Nearly three days went by before she had gathered all her eggs into groups and stitched them to the ceiling. Wynter swept her suckers gently over every egg, counting them off as she tired herself into a deep slumber. ¡°One egg, two eggs¡­¡±


    ¡°¡­Eleven-thousand, six-hundred and eighty-nine.¡± Having glued about seventy-five braids to the roof, there she rested, right under her octo-spawn.


    Little time passed before Wynter¡¯s reddish-brown complexion turned gray, then off-white, and finally translucent. The end had to be near, she thought. Her stretchy skin had long withered and wrinkled to the point where she weighed half her pre-baby weight. When she wasn¡¯t crying, Wynter pondered on her short life of four years. On lessons she didn¡¯t learn from her mother that she wished she had. On the one guy who creeped into her life and left just as haphazardly as he appeared. She tried to forget about the starvation aspect of hibernating that no one warned her about. Wynter would kill for a crab or two right now. Her stomach rumbled constantly. Stop that!


    She tried to block hunger pangs from her mind, even as her body deteriorated from the lack of nutrients. A few more hours. You can get through this, she told herself. She had to remain tranquil to conserve her little energy left. All her vitality was consumed by observing and protecting her young, day in and day out. As Wynter clung onto life, an egg began to crack.


    It was less of a hatch and more of gentle plop as the first larva wiggled its arms and ripped the egg case wide open. Then, other tiny octopuses slinked out headfirst, propelled forward by their stubby arms. Wynter marveled at their delicate blue and transparent bodies with visible red brains. They were so alien, yet so familiar. Did I look like that once?


    Her bolder, more ambitious children pulsated out from the cave, still dragging around attached egg yolks with them. Some lingered behind to help release their more reserved counterparts. As they departed, Wynter spiraled her arms into a wave, but not one of her hatchlings waved back. She bent into a corkscrew and got small, visibly distraught. That¡¯s when she noticed one capsule, unmoving, amidst the tattered, empty cases. Maybe the little one didn¡¯t survive. Then, slowly, it began to stretch.


    She hummed a soft lullaby, a song Wynter heard her mother sing when she left the den, ¡°A Song for You.¡± Her final larva eased out. He shot into Wynter¡¯s arms, and she reluctantly embraced him. She was careful not to squeeze too tight. ¡°I will name you Octavious,¡± she proclaimed. Then, Wynter grew quiet, unsure if an octopus should ever name a larva it may never see again. Still, she called herself Wynter, even though she had never formally introduced herself to anyone.


    Octavious climbed on her mantle and pushed upon his eight arms, ever so serious. ¡°And what¡¯s your name?¡± he asked. He saw a pain behind her eyes, although he was too young to understand.


    ¡°Call me nothing,¡± she choked out.


    Octavious asked again, confused.


    Wynter¡¯s restraint snapped, and she cried out, ¡°I¡¯m Nothing!¡±


    Before Octavious could respond, Wynter drew the water from her body cavity into a punchy stream. The blow swiftly forced Octavious out of her den.


    He drifted up and away into the thick, algae-infused soup until he neared a bustling coral reef. As his eyes adjusted to the surging waves, wonders of a distant world emerged. Up there, sunlight pierced the top of the water and sent it all glittering in a blue and silver luster. ¡°Bye, Nothing!¡± he yelled.


    He launched up into the first thousand feet of the water column, known as the Epipelagic Zone. Here, there was no sense of scale or perspective. Like everywhere in the ocean, light appeared slow and jagged as Octavious navigated the ocean¡¯s distorted, magnified shapes.


    He reached the peak of an expansive seamount, an ancient underwater volcanic mountain. Out on the apex, his new home at the edge of Atlantica teemed with activity and life wherever he looked: ebony brittle stars, purple urchins, frosted glass sponges, and myriad rockfish. Corals grazed on a giant sugar kelp forest that kissed the water¡¯s surface. Feuding microscopic seahorses strangled each other, for play and for foe, with their tails. Pearl fish, which lived in sea cucumber¡¯s anuses, got cozy in their excrement during the day and hunted for tiny larvae like Octavious at night.


    Each moment for the hours-old octopus brimmed with adventure. He escaped the feathery thoracic limbs of a barnacle. He dodged hungry tube-nosed seabirds like shearwaters and petrels. Bobbie worms, with pincers wide open, pounced on unsuspecting larvae, but not on Octavious, for he was too slick. At night, polyps would swell and feed on passing plankton, the diverse microscopic organisms that sparkled in the sea.


    At first, Octavious lived off the egg yolk from which he hatched. Then, he expanded his palate to smaller plankton. When it appeared safe, Octavious collected algae from the reef¡¯s surface. He even made a few friends by playing hide and seek with other larvae.


    Alas, a few days after during the first full moon of the spring, more creatures arrived to prey upon all the little hatchlings in the sea. This was a special time in the season. Almost all species of coral synchronized their spawning over a few nights once a year. Billions of pink gametes germinated from the mouths of coral polyps simultaneously and drifted down the water column like pink-hued marine glitter. It was magical for Octavious to witness their release firsthand. Larvae of crab, flounder, sea elephants, and other species also contributed to this hodgepodge. They were too weak to swim against currents and too small to withstand pressure at deeper layers, so they drifted, far and wide, trying their best to avoid the grip of dinoflagellate¡¯s flagella and plants¡¯ feeding tentacles that hovered around. Determined to escape the mayhem, Octavious hopped on one of the gamete¡¯s tails and wafted along.

 Out of the Cave

    Like clockwork every year, fish journeyed from all corners of Atlantica to feast on this hot pink explosion of plankton, larvae, and krill. Orcas, silvertip sharks, and jaeger seabirds joined in on this feeding frenzy. Yet each species fell back, waiting for their turn in line once mermen entered the scene. Because, unlike other sea creatures, merfolk existed in a class amongst themselves. Thanks to their delicate, mirror-like scales that reflected all color spectrums at once, mermen were almost indistinguishable to the naked eye and undetectable to terrestrial creatures. With a flip of their fishtails, they could intersect between an invisible spiritual world and the visible wavelength which other fish could see. Every creature understood this social hierarchy from birth, so much that when a group of mermaids came into view, others absconded to make room.


    The group of mermaidens was led by none other than Amphitrite. She slowed to a halt, as did Pearlasia and the other mermaids behind her. Venturing out of the castle for the first time in days, Pearlasia experienced a newfound appreciation of nature. She marveled at the synchronicity of the school of anchovies ahead, dancing upward of fifty feet. To Pearlasia, the anchovies were so radiant and sparkling, the most gorgeous fish she ever encountered. Slowly getting back to her old self, Pearlasia scaled the water with her half-numb fins. Her gravid patch, from her navel to the start of her scales, had deepened to light brown. Amphitrite assured her that this was a good sign. ¡°A darkened belly means you¡¯re almost ready.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± There were so many things to learn in so little time. Pearlasia¡¯s neurons seemed to fray as her mother accelerated The Talk. But this talk was more complex than any reef¡¯s synchronized spawning. Royal blood, once ripened, would release the magical substance brimming through Pearlasia¡¯s veins. And that magic, like all magic, had its own unique timeline. Pearlasia would need to hold tight and be patient. For what? No one knew precisely, as every mermaid was different. The same traits that once revealed Amphitrite¡¯s maturation could manifest in another way for Pearlasia.


    A major stepping stone on Pearlasia¡¯s path to maturation was to part sand. To part sand with one¡¯s tail was not standard and, therefore, not part of Pearlasia¡¯s homeschooling lessons. Sure, every mermaid could bifurcate her tail once a month, but only royal mermaids had the privilege of lifting their two-tails high over their heads at any time. And once the magic flowed through them freely, the tails stirred gusts of wind strong enough for currents to part sand. This act was the true marker that separated royal mermaids from commoners. And Pearlasia had two days left to figure it all out.


    This metamorphic rite of passage was known as the Parting Sands ceremony. Overall, it was an intense ritual for the princess and onlookers alike. Five nights after a princess released bloody bubbles, she would be sealed tight in a giant clamshell. Through physical prowess, she¡¯d have to find a way to escape through the strength of her tail. A princess who could open the shell and, consequently, part sand was viewed as a blessing for the kingdom. Magic was believed to flow from princesses to the rest of Atlantica. The ceremony naturally brought families and clans together in celebration. After, the princess would swim around with a scepter and bless attendees with her healing powers. Pearlasia questioned if she could really pull this off.


    Somewhat impatiently, Amphitrite nudged Pearlasia over to the school of fish. Not only was swimming through it a sign of well-being and fortune, but also seen as a gateway to the Gods. And Pearlasia would need all the blessings she could get to unseal that clamshell.


    Pearlasia took a deep breath and clenched her hands as other mermaids watched. She swam over to the school¡¯s underbelly, positioned her body perpendicularly, then bolted inside. At first, she attempted to swim against the current of anchovies swirling around her. Plunging into the school, Pearlasia felt like she was being shocked while simultaneously tickled with feathers. It was a sensation that she considered painful and gratifying all at once. Her fin stiffened, her chest tightened, and her breathing lapsed.


    Since there was no sunlight to keep her warm, the funnel felt quite chilly. Even in June, the ocean was still a few notches above freezing. Pearlasia knew that if she could withstand immersion ¡ª after surviving the initial shock ¡ª she¡¯d soon reach euphoria.


    On the verge of hyperventilating, Pearlasia realized she needed to get her breathing under control and fast. She strongly inhaled and relaxed as she came down on the exhales. Pearlasia closed her gills and her mouth, then pinched her nose, holding her breath for as long as she could. Fifty-nine seconds¡­ sixty. She felt tingly and dizzy on an asphyxiation high. Strange kaleidoscopic shapes whirled around as the cylinder lit up like aurora borealis. In a bit of a whirly spell, she situated her body horizontally, snuggling into a fetal position. At that instant, Pearlasia mellowed out long enough until she could intuit her body¡¯s exact sources of pain and discomfort. Suddenly, the water¡¯s coolness became scorching.


    The anchovies had carried Pearlasia up the dark funnel where her fin sparkled in the light. She could hear the quiet roar of waves crashing on a distant beach. As Pearlasia neared the crest, marbled lines of sun rays guided her on.


    She unleashed a high-pitched whine, singing in her native Mermalian tongue. Alarmed, the anchovies broke off and shuffled away in loose clusters. Now with the fish dispersed, Pearlasia bumbled from the shoal back over to her mother.


    ¡°Look at your glowing skin!¡± Amphitrite complimented. Pearlasia rubbed her hands along her moist, radiant cheeks as dewdrops dripped from them. Her moisturized hair rifled and swayed like its own living thing. Swimming through a school always resulted in the best facials.


    ¡°You should join me next time,¡± Pearlasia proposed.


    Amphitrite bit her lower lip pensively. ¡°Truth be told, I should stay as far away from schools as possible. They remind me of bad times. My last sardine shower, years before I was pregnant with you, was bookended by two untimely demises: my stillborn child, and right before, my twin brother.¡± Pearlasia could sense that Amphitrite was someplace obscure and intense and deep. The queen hesitated, then continued.


    ¡°Us royals wear a mask at all times to veil our true feelings. No matter how much we hide behind them, our emotions still run deep. Every time I see a school, I tear up inside. But that¡¯s what being a queen is all about, right? Putting on a fa?ade. Underneath, I¡¯m constantly on edge, reminiscing how happy I was before I¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡°If you ever see me near a school, know that something is horribly wrong.¡±


    For years, Pearlasia didn¡¯t notice any warning signs, any signals that whatever burden Amphitrite carried was getting too large to bear. But as her mother had become more transparent in the past few days, Pearlasia concluded that maybe the queen was just as fragile as the sea castles she and Triton built as children. Vulnerable, just like everyone who looked up to her.


    Pearlasia grabbed her hand. ¡°Before what? You were happy before what?!¡±


    Amphitrite switched the subject. ¡°Let¡¯s hurry, before all the anchovies get away.¡±


    ***


    Wynter hit a stage of rapid decline, when things really started to get ugly. Her arms had swelled, her stomach ballooned, and her vision blurred with jagged currents of color after a lifetime of seeing monochromatically. Recently, white ulcers plagued her body. Wynter picked at them excessively, running her arms over her mantle until she became a tousled mess. The agony was so severe that she threw herself against sharp corners in her den, until pus oozed out of the blotchy boils. With each slam, she grew more paranoid, afraid to leave her den but more alarmed by her own thoughts. She became obsessed with death: thinking about ways to die, singing songs about sacrifice, and dreaming of a thousand ways to tear out her soul, if she ever had one.


    From the moment she got pregnant, Wynter knew she would die. Not just someday, but quite soon. Because, like her mother and the mother before her, octopuses were destined to pass right after giving birth. Wynter had hoped the process would be swift and painless. Now, she wasn¡¯t so sure. Overcome by the stench of her own body, Wynter crawled out of her den where the sea was bright and glistening. She haphazardly wriggled and slumped down the rock bed. Every grasp with her suckers aggrieved the progressing lesions.


    Then, she overlooked a step. Wynter toppled headfirst into a clearing and broke skin. Droplets of copper-pigmented blood oozed out. Wynter winced, regretfully, knowing that any bodily chemicals released in the water would attract predators. She sighed, realizing that feral bottom feeders would arrive any minute. She stretched her arms and took large strides, leaving a bloody trail behind. The surrounding odor bore traces of egg yolk sweetness and rotting flesh. Somehow, it was oddly pleasant to Wynter.


    The water became superstitiously quiet. Wynter heard a faint echo. Click. It grew louder. Not if¡ªbut when¡ªpredators came, Wynter knew she would have to fight back.


    Wynter scanned the horizon and noticed a sperm whale hovering above. She peeped back at her den, which was at least a mile away. Her dark eyes twinkled. Wynter didn¡¯t expect to surrender this quickly. She always had the uncanny aptitude to distinguish animal noises from the ambient crackle of the sea. But now, she couldn¡¯t discern as acutely. She wasn¡¯t prepared at all as the whale¡¯s large conical teeth smacked and rippled through the water straight at her.


    Wynter closed her eyes, chanting, ¡°I. Am. Nothing. I. Am¡ª¡±


    The chanting ceased and Wynter¡¯s arms pulsated gracefully across the waves like an angel¡¯s wings.


    ***


    It was the day that Pearlasia would part sand. Although the castle was still silent, she charged out of her bed energetically, sensing a faint tremor of anticipation. Pearlasia felt ten times better than the days before. As she stretched, and her tankini rode up her tummy, she noticed that the lateral line extending from her navel to her gravid patch altered from quartz brown to amethyst. She assumed it must be the magic flowing through her veins, which ultimately increased her confidence. Pearlasia lightly pulled her shoulders back, lifted her chin, and dashed out of her room.


    Of course, Amphitrite was waiting for Pearlasia at the door. The queen quipped how much Pearlasia reminded her of her younger self, when Amphitrite became ¡°a full-grown mermaid with a half-grown brain.¡± She looked Pearlasia up and down, then asked, ¡°How are you doing, really?¡±


    Pearlasia reflected for a second. She then answered that, although she still felt unprepared, she¡¯d give it her best shot. Amphitrite bit her bottom lip, rambling on with last-minute tips, as she and Pearlasia retreated outside.


    They sat in the picturesque garden while munching on the alfresco breakfast Isis prepared daily. It was always the same ¡ª lobster m¨¦lange stewed in manatee¡¯s milk with chilled seaberry tea. Amphitrite had always stressed the importance of the family sitting around a table and sharing a meal together. The only time that seemed to work for everyone was during breakfast. But lately, Pearlasia found herself sleeping in later and later, so much that she often missed out on the pastime altogether. She felt guilty about not making time, yet a sly part of her enjoyed avoiding her family. Pearlasia wanted nothing more than for her summer to be a journey of self-discovery and independence. Constantly being subjected to the demands of a monarchy seemed to hamper that desire. And so, she sat, granting her mother this small commitment, without truly giving in.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Amphitrite slid a box across the table. ¡°Open it,¡± she said invitingly. The bow that sealed it tight was the same shade of lilac as Pearlasia¡¯s hair. She appreciated the small gesture. She¡¯s trying, Pearlasia considered, and that¡¯s what matters. Gulping hard, Pearlasia slowly unwrapped the gift. It was a stunning black pearl bracelet, with a few pink and purple gems dangling like charms. Pearlasia¡¯s heart pounded anxiously as Amphitrite clipped it to Pearlasia¡¯s wrist. She had wanted new jewelry for some time, but didn¡¯t know what exactly. And yet this bracelet, to Pearlasia, felt perfect.


    Pearlasia squealed a thank you, then remarked, ¡°This must have cost a fortune.¡±


    Her mother winked, always slow to reveal her secrets. ¡°Actually, this cost me nothing. It¡¯s a family heirloom, passed down as a necklace through many generations.¡±


    ¡°A necklace?¡± Pearlasia commented while dangling the bracelet.


    ¡°It¡¯s a funny story,¡± Amphitrite said. ¡°Before my mother gave birth to me and my twin brother, the doctor told her we¡¯d both be female. So, she altered the heirloom into a gift set: a choker and a bracelet. She believed it was of utmost importance to rule with both the fist and the heart. The fist to keep yourself grounded and protected, as well as the heart to remain kind and empathetic. Well, I was that fist.¡±


    Pearlasia pressed Amphitrite for more information about the heart: her uncle. Because the queen didn¡¯t discuss her family much, Pearlasia always felt a disconnect with her maternal side. Maybe, Pearlasia thought, they¡¯d bond better if her mother would share more about her past.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked,¡± Amphitrite grinned slyly. ¡°Perhaps there¡¯s a lesson to be learned in his tragedy. My brother, Ares, lived large and died young. Growing up, he had grandiose ideas about money and power. But he was so easily distracted and never saw anything through. I would chide him, saying, ¡®there¡¯s more to life than having fun,¡¯ but he¡¯d always say my thinking was illogical.¡± Amphitrite gazed through the garden, then eased back in her story. ¡°Ares was too foolish to be a prince or duke, let alone a king. He would do anything for the throne. As that dream faded, he made a final attempt at securing success. He wanted to buy a glitter farm.¡±


    Pearlasia nearly fell out of her chair. She couldn¡¯t picture the words royal and glitter in the same sentence. In Atlantica, glitter was an impoverished merman¡¯s antidote. Some poor, unfortunate souls believed anything that sparkled was magic. It was the sea¡¯s oldest con, to sprinkle glitter on one¡¯s woes and, in turn, receive prosperity. Pearlasia could see why her mother was so against it. What she didn¡¯t understand was why her uncle didn¡¯t have a fortune of his own, if he were a prince. But Pearlasia held the question as Amphitrite continued with her tale.


    ¡°When I refused his plan, Areas sent a handwritten message to my mother, in which he laid everything out: he had planned to die. Ares had known the time and a place for years. He thanked her for being his rock and rebuked me for being his disgrace. After he died, I kid you not, it pelted glitter for three days and three nights. It was his final performance, as I saw it. Within six months, I buried my first child, my brother, and later, my mother. I would tell you more about your extended family, Pearlasia, if you had one.¡±


    The princess adjusted her bracelet a little. It truly didn¡¯t feel like a bracelet. In fact, it felt weightless, like nothing at all. ¡°It¡¯s an amulet,¡± Amphitrite shared, seeing her thoughtful gaze, ¡°through which untold powers can also flow. I never had much luck with it, nor did my brother with his, obviously, being a merboy and all. Perhaps the amulet will take a liking to you.¡±


    ***


    On their swim over to the throne hall, Poseidon presented Pearlasia with a giant clam. Its staggeringly fleshy lips were spangled with neon flecks. Poseidon gave Pearlasia two choices ¨C she could keep the clam as a pet, or let it go free. She chose to release it. Pearlasia¡¯s entire body clenched as the gargantuan creature writhed its way out of the shell. As Isis rushed to clear the shell of the goopy liquid left behind, Pearlasia couldn¡¯t fathom going through with the next step, when the shell would trap her inside.


    Somehow, Pearlasia managed to convince her parents to only place her in the entrapment onsite, so she¡¯d have time to mentally prepare. Obliging, Poseidon made room for Pearlasia in his scalloped chariot. She squeezed between Triton and Amphitrite, as Isis hauled the clamshell in the carriage¡¯s rear before darting in.


    After a moment, the king faced forwards, grabbed the reign of the orcas, and commanded the whales to drive ahead. The carriage meandered up toward the ceiling, where the retracting mussel roof opened as water above filtered through. It was a lovely sight, for the roof¡¯s gleaming pearls were large enough to shape into a hundred queens¡¯ crowns.


    The chariot encircled the castle before riding off. As it pulled away, Pearlasia observed the lagoon their glittering home sat in, nestled in the valley of the imposing seamount. The breathtaking view could never get old for Pearlasia.


    They rounded the epicenter of Atlantica, the capital of their civilization. Nearly twenty banana-shaped islands surrounded the castle¡¯s moat. Together, the isles formed an arc that enclosed the sea from both the north and south. Other seamounts, where smaller kingdoms ruled, blockaded the east. The islands were merman-made, erected from midden, or a hodgepodge of shells, bones, and clay. All types of seashells, from pastel lightning whelks and tulip shells to coquinas and sand dollars, formed crunch-walks along the isles¡¯ shores.


    Beyond the castle, streets were paved with coral, pyramids glistened with dazzling crystal, and mother-of-pearl served as the standard construction material for massive government buildings. Pearlasia watched mermen down below, immersed in the hustle and bustle of their daily commutes. Children and elders hopped on and off giant sea turtle taxis, zigzagging at rapid speeds. Merchants offered a bewildering array of food and luxuries in the market and buyers shelled out their sand dollars in exchange for the goods.


    Atlantica¡¯s terrain extended from the lake into the surrounding seamount. Cliffs rose on both sides of the underwater mountain, studded with giant kelp forests that shrouded the coral reef. The reef stacked high like a row of impossibly unreal condominiums. Whole cliff sides of coral, doubling as caves and balconies, functioned as a symbiotic ecosystem between mermen and plants. Their seamount dwellings were illuminated with a blue-green phosphorescence, which plankton and other microscopic creatures that lived in those parts naturally emitted.


    Mermen who resided up there, high in Atlantica¡¯s seamount, were not of royal blood. Instead, they formed socially segregated clans with unique traditions and distinct dialects. Cultural identity at the clan level was imperative to defining one¡¯s place in the kingdom.


    Four of those clans, plus the royal family, dominated Mermalian society. Izu was the oldest in the region. At birth, Izus displayed a trio of zig-zag black stripes on their white tails, which became more colorful with age. Older members of the clan developed bright daffodil bodies that blurred into orange and deep red in the face. Izu possessed adventurous and entrepreneurial spirits that allowed them to control the markets in Atlantica¡¯s capital. They were the wealthiest clan, richer than the royals even.


    The second-most prominent clan, Demani, were distinguished by their transparent tails covered in blue and purple dots. Demani elders took on a golden hue that brilliantly contrasted with their darkened marks. This clan excelled in arts and entertainment by fostering a vibrant culture wherever they swam.


    While small in population, the third clan, Hoplon, made up for their numbers in bravery. This fierce clan had reddish-brown pigmentation and eel-like tails. Unlike other mermen, Hoplon were born with a specialized labyrinth organ, which allowed them to advance in shallow water and even breathe air. Some Hoplon could emit electrical charges to not only power Atlantica, but to help protect its borders. Hoplon¡¯s warrior culture made them the subject of universal fascination. Hoplon soldiers, tales warned, could electrocute victims with their eyes as a way of capturing their souls. They were so highly regarded that, after Poseidon became king, he developed elite Hoplon units within the military.


    The last notable clan, Sturgeon, were wise and ancient figures who held deeply spiritual beliefs. Sturgeon¡¯s tails ranged from olive green to blue-black. These mermen were known as the gatekeepers of history and controlled the means of transmitting knowledge. The Sturgeon clan operated churches, libraries, and schools. As the saying went, you could tell a Sturgeon anything and he would remember it for a lifetime. Pearlasia knew this saying all too well. After all, she was half-sturgeon and half-royal.


    The marriage between Pearlasia¡¯s parents marked the first time a bi-clannial family ¡ª a Sturgeon queen and a half-Hoplon king¡ªhad ever risen through the ranks. Known to be both physically and culturally separate, clans were discouraged from interbreeding and intermarriage. By parting sands, Pearlasia would be sending a message that magic transcended culture. It would be a historic moment, if she could pull it off.


    Her ride came to an end as the chariot scratched to a stop against the cliff. At least three thousand guests awaited the royal family. A humpback started vocalizing, singing a song about the rise of future kings and queens. Still hidden in the carriage, Pearlasia warped her body into the clamshell as it banged shut. She felt the shell being lifted through the water, then slid out until it teetered the cliff¡¯s edge. Everything was dark and silent, except for the voice inside Pearlasia¡¯s head telling her that everything would be okay.


    Pearlasia may not have always known where her tail would take her, but it was always one sweep further and higher than before. Her life, full of conviction and action, began when she was merely a hatchling in an egg case. Although she couldn''t recall every detail of her birth, Pearlasia remembered this exact same place she hovered over now, when she first swam to the edge.


    ***


    Pearlasia¡¯s life began in the spawning cave as amniotic fluid flooded her mermaid¡¯s purse. At first, Pearlasia appeared as a dark featureless orb. Then, her wide eyes, budding arms and legs, and finally a recognizable profile of a girl emerged. Her growing weight stretched the case closer and closer to the cave floor. Pearlasia came swirling down into view as a miniature mermaid, tinted black and purple. Pearlasia¡¯s tail crowned and pushed through the gelatinous interior. She escaped from the egg¡¯s weakened side with bright pink gills. But as she tumbled out, there was no crying. Pearlasia fell into a purse snatcher¡¯s arms, limp and unresponsive. Another purse snatcher immediately compressed Pearlasia¡¯s chest with her thumbs. The room was hushed, aside from the elder¡¯s measured breaths.


    Back at the castle, Amphitrite tried to separate where life began and ended. Her racing thoughts resulted in little sleep. Even though this was the queen¡¯s second time entering motherhood, the worst part for her was still the anticipation. The purse snatchers at the breeding grounds said the combination of movement in the egg case and larvae¡¯s eyes would determine when it was time. But what if her hatchling succumbed to disease and fungus, brought on by less regal eggs in her clutch, and never swam out? Even worse, what if everything was right, and yet her baby still couldn¡¯t survive the swim across the cliff into her arms? There was only a ninety percent eggcase survival rate. That statistic continued to worsen every year, and scientists still didn¡¯t know why.


    The next day, mermen traveled from far and wide to see the momentous occasion of Pearlasia¡¯s birth. Plunging from his scalloped chariot, Poseidon took Amphitrite¡¯s hand, and they strolled to the edge, along with Isis and Triton. The queen gave the paparazzi a sketch-worthy pose, careful not to appear too concerned. After all, royal fry always made it across the strait. They rarely lost their course. If the hatchling started to drown for any reason, Amphitrite would be shunned if she dove in after it. To deviate from tradition would not be good in the eyes of their society, which functioned on self-preservation above all else. So, Amphitrite focused on what she could control. She spoke in a quiet tone, hoping to conjure the spirit of her newborn. ¡°Your mommy and daddy and brother are here. We need you with us.¡±


    Poseidon pinched the small of her wrist. ¡°Amphitrite,¡± he smiled, and in that smile came anger. ¡°Don¡¯t raise concerns where there are none.¡± Amphitrite shot a backward glance at their subjects. She was highly aware of everyone¡¯s thirst for gossip. Journalists would be quick to interpret the royals¡¯ interactions for their own agendas. Still, her heart sank. The wait had already been too long. What if¡¯s danced around her head. That¡¯s when everyone around her began to sing.


    Defiant, Amphitrite placed her gilded cowrie choker near her ear and attempted to drown the music out. To try to hear whatever was in front of her. Shells could magnify sounds over a great distance, but all the queen heard bouncing back was white noise. She tossed the jewelry over the edge and watched it oscillate with the tide.


    ¡°Now why would you do that?!¡± Poseidon barked.


    Amphitrite didn¡¯t respond and instead sang until her voice was heard above all else.


    ***