◇PAST◇ CHAPTER 1: CAPTURED IN A STORM

"Do you ever wonder what it feels like to drown?"

Arik's voice cut through the storm's roar, low and sharp, as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them.

Fleetwood, leaning lazily against a pillar nearby, arched a brow. "You mean besides this party?" He waved a hand toward the ballroom, where nobles spun in shimmering circles and laughter rose like waves crashing against rocks.

Arik didn't smile. His emerald eyes stayed fixed on the rain streaking down the arched window. Outside, the sea thrashed, restless and wild—just like the thoughts clawing at the edges of his mind.

"You're in a mood tonight," Fleetwood said, pushing away from the pillar and stepping closer. "What's wrong? Too much wine? Or not enough?"

"Adria's watching me."

Fleetwood followed his gaze, landing on Arik's sister twirling through the crowd. Her laughter rang out, bright and sharp as glass, but her eyes flicked toward Arik for just a moment—calculating, dangerous.

"You're paranoid," Fleetwood muttered, but even he didn't sound convinced.

Arik's fingers curled around the hilt of the dagger hidden at his waist. "Maybe," he said, "but if I'm wrong, why does it feel like I'm already drowning?"

Fleetwood scoffed, but his eyes lingered on Adria a moment too long. "You really think she'd try something tonight? With this circus going on?"

Arik didn't answer. He turned back to the window, where lightning split the sky and lit up the castle's reflection in the glass. It looked like something torn out of a dream—too beautiful, too strange. Towers of coral spiraled high above the waves, their edges sharp as teeth. Seashell mosaics glittered in the storm's light, and the pearl-studded walls glowed faintly, as if the castle itself were alive.

It was alive, in a way. The sea had shaped it, carved it, and in return, the castle had trapped them all inside it.

Arik's fingers brushed the cold glass. "This place is a prison," he muttered.

Fleetwood leaned closer, his voice low. "And yet you're the prince of it. Poor, tragic Arik. So cursed, so burdened." He smirked. "And still you find time to brood dramatically by windows."

Arik threw Fleetwood a glare and he raised his hands in surrender. Cheekily backing away and getting himself lost in the crowd.

"Obviously he's going to drink a boatload." Arik muttered disapprovingly.

Although the party was just beginning, the clock was already creeping toward midnight. The people of his realm, known for their free spirits, adorned themselves in daringly tight clothing, baring skin and showcasing their boldness. Yet, for Arik, the carnival of sights and scents was overwhelming. His acute senses were bombarded by the cloying aromas of ale and spirits, the mouthwatering scents of rich foods, and the tantalizing fragrance of fine wines.

The heady mixture was intoxicating, and he could feel a pleasant buzz settling in.

Lost in the crowd was his father, still remarkably sober, who regaled the guests with tales from his youth, recounting exploits that captivated the other dignitaries.

At the far end of the room, six stepmothers held court on a raised platform, each one adorned in increasingly flamboyant attire, competing to outshine the others in a battle of pageantry.

Arik's gaze wandered across the hall, spotting five of his sisters in various states of abandon—giggling, kissing, and engaging in increasingly scandalous antics that made him wince. He quickly averted his eyes from Nahla, who was gleefully dragging away an unsuspecting male entertainer, her laughter echoing like chimes in the chaotic revelry.

The lively songs and raucous cheers masked the distant rumble of thunder, but the storm beyond the banquet walls captured Arik's attention far more than the festivities inside. Lightning flashed, illuminating his iridescent green eyes, which shimmered with both frustration and longing.

This party, which was supposed to be for him, felt like a prison; his thoughts were drowned out by memories of a particular stubborn yet sweet-tongued young woman. Today marked the anniversary of their first meeting—a day that had saved and irrevocably altered his life. Arik, usually indifferent to such milestones, found himself unable to escape the weight of nostalgia.

Then, a sharp and jarring sound sliced through the air: cutlery striking glass. It drew Arik's attention back to the party. Floating effortlessly above the ground was Fleetwood Goldstein, his half-human, half-leprechaun best friend. He'd been gone for only an hour at most but he was surely drunk.

His carefree demeanor and infectious laughter made him the life of the party, even as he hovered precariously, clearly intoxicated.

Leprechauns were notorious for their mischievous antics, and Fleetwood was no exception, his signature green attire contrasting with the elegance of the ball. His bright amber eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were narrowed into slits from laughter. As he danced above the crowd, drinks spilled from his glass, splattering onto the dresses of several irritated guests.

Angry shouts erupted from the crowd, but Fleetwood simply twisted in mid-air, his eyes landing on Arik, who was nearly obscured by shadows. He was still where he left him. With a playful roll of his eyes, Fleetwood recognized his friend—devilishly handsome yet annoyingly withdrawn, he stood apart from the sounds of celebration.

Arik epitomized the nobility that came from a lineage resembling gods in the realm of Fable. His wild, shoulder-length flame-red hair flowed like a curtain around his face, enhancing his brooding aura.

Without breaking eye contact, Fleetwood struck his fork against the wine glass with theatrical flair. "Hear ye, hear ye," he boomed, his voice ringing through the hall.

The music came to a halt, and all eyes turned toward Fleetwood, who basked in the sudden attention.

Arik's father, noticing the disturbance, looked visibly agitated and leaned close to one of his stepmothers, Kalliste, whispering something that Arik could only imagine was filled with dismay.

If Arik understood Kalliste well—and he believed he did—she was likely plotting how to add this absurd spectacle to her already burgeoning list of grievances against him, solidifying her stance against his claim as heir.

"Arik, son of Andreus the Mighty," Fleetwood's unsteady voice echoed in the great hall as silence fell, all eyes now fixed on him. Anticipation hung in the air, marked by a dramatic pause.

"Is now single!" Fleetwood declared, his finger pointing like an eager pointer to reveal Arik's concealed form.

"That absolute fool," Arik muttered under his breath, his fists clenching in frustration.

With that declaration, the hall erupted once more into a frenzy of cheers and flirtatious whistles directed at the Prince of the Sea. In the hearts of many women, hope ignited; perhaps they could yet become the next crowned princess of Fable.

"What?!" Andreus Aegaeus, Arik's father, paled visibly as the realization sank in. His features twisted into a mask of disbelief and barely contained fury, and he appeared as if he might vomit from the sheer embarrassment. He looked right about ready to blugeon his very much believed unfilial son much like Arik wanted to do to his best friend.

Fleetwood, sensing the tension, flashed a sheepish grin in Arik's direction before vanishing in a cloud of shimmering gold dust.

Andreus's thunderous outcry echoed through the hall, jolting the guests from their stupor and commanding silence with a degree of authority that left some cowering in their seats.

In a dimly lit corner, Adria, the eldest of Arik's stepsisters, concealed a dark glint in her eyes, rising to her full height. With purposeful steps, she moved toward her father whose face looked as red as his beard hair.

To the right she saw her mother and the other five queens making way to their husband. Her sisters made a sprint for their respective mothers sides, forgetting the faces they were snogging only five minutes ago.

People made way as Andreus left the once boisterous circle of his former cavalry before retirement and marched towards Arik, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket with surprising strength. Arik's father was a short and stout man, but he had the strength of ten men in his bulky arms. "What happened between you and the witch's daughter?" Andreus asked in a harsh whisper, his eyes cold. Arik's smile infuriated Andreus even more.

"We ended things. We weren't what either of us were looking for." Arik sneered and released himself from his father's hold.

The witch's daughter Andreus referred to was Esmerelda Morgan, adopted daughter of one of the Fallen and Arik's childhood friend.They were used for an alliance between the people of Fable and Morgan the Twisted in a sign of good faith.

"Now you will go to Esmerelda's family, a smile on your face, with fucking flowers, and grovel to be taken back." Andreus' brown eyes flashed, and his nose flared as he stared Arik down. "Am I understood, boy!" He screamed and sent his spittle flying around.

"No." Arik looked at his father's spittle-filled beard in disgust. "I'm sure grandfather didn't have a say in your marriages, so let me have my peace." Their eyes glowed as they both bared their fangs at the same time.

"Father." Adria came in between the two men, ready to tear into each other. "This is neither the time nor place." She said pointedly.

Andreus shook his head and came to his senses. He looked around him at the crowd of guests with their criticising gazes. Anybody who was anybody was right here in this hall, and he was making a fool of himself, fighting with his dullard of a son. Andreus gritted his teeth and shot Arik a menacing look.

Adria signalled for the guards stationed around the hall. "Escort all the guests out with a peace basket." She commanded.

Before anyone could say or do anything, strange black-violet smoke poured in from nowhere. There was a sudden gust of wind, and all the flames went out. A crack of thunder and an evil cackle later.

Shrieks and hollers ensued as people ran away in fear. About fifty guards encircled the royal family. Andreus drew his sword from the scabbard, anticipating the Sea Witch.

Arik felt a sting around his biceps and turned around to see Nixie, his youngest sister, holding onto it with a death grip, her claws out and all. He looked at his family, their terrified faces, and felt it better to run to see another day.Lightning struck within the palace, and fire caught one of the curtains. From the smoke and fire, a dark shadow slowly emerged. A tall, voluptuous woman, draped in a dark cloak, head held high with a sceptre in hand, strutted out with a vicious laugh. Nixie gripped Arik's arm even tighter, if possible, and let out a shriek that almost deafened him.

Morgan, the sea witch, had a face that didn't match her body. For one, she had an eye missing and creepy-looking dark purple smoke crawling out from the empty eye socket. Her lips were a bloody shade of red, and her teeth, as she cackled, looked abnormally sharp.At the sight of her, the guards had their spears pointing in her direction.

"Is this the reception befitting of your in-law, Andreus?" Morgan asked with a malicious glint in her one eye.

Andreus looked at the witch with a forced, apprehensive smile. "Forgive me, my liege. They just get so excited when they hear of your coming." Arik looked at the trembling hand of his father holding a sword and sighed inwardly.

Morgan tilted her head back for a short laugh. "Ah, a funny king you are." With a strike of her sceptre on the ground, the guards did the most absurd thing. They dropped their weapons and, as if hypnotised, marched out of the room in sync.The queens started crying, and Adria looked at the backs of the departing guards and cursed under her breath.

"Now no need to offer me a seat." Morgan looked at the tear-streaked faces and stopped her eye on Arik. "I'm here to see to it that the wedding date is set officially. My daughter in name has been engaged for far too long, and I'd like to see little merbabies swimming around in my underwater castle soon."Arik looked her straight in the eye and didn't so much as blink.

Andreus coughed out an awkward laugh, "Of course, of course. I was just thinking the same thing—"

"Esme and I are no longer party to your schemes, witch." Arik cut off his father's lie. "I'll surely be getting married someday, and it's not to your daughter."

Adria looked at Arik and thought her brother to be a fool, brave but a bloody fool. If the witch decided to kill him here and now, it'd work in her favour, so she hid a ridiculing smile.

"Never mind him. He's gotten one slap too many from me; that's why he talks like he's asleep." Andreus dropped to his knees and bowed his head to Morgan. The queens and princesses followed suit and huddled behind the king.

Nixie finally let go of Arik, thinking that he had a death wish. Arik didn't kneel with his family. He kept his back straight and faced the Sea Witch head-on.

"Your daughter will never be happy with me. I can never love her." Arik didn't know if the witch even cared for the happiness of Esmerelda, but he cared for his and Gabriella's. "I love another."

Andreus stood with unearthly speed and landed a slap across Arik's face."You vile spawn!"The sea witch looked on with amusement and cackled.

"You can't even control your son and expect to still be able to keep your crown."With a sweep of her hand, Morgan threw Andreus across the room using her magic. Andreus hit a column, and a coppery sweetness filled his mouth. He coughed up blood. More cries and shrieks filled the room.

"You will get married to Esmerelda Morgan tomorrow at dawn or die."

"If there isn't a third option, I'd rather die." Arik said aloud, but he thought, 'I'd rather not.'

"So be it then," crooned the sea witch. At the very thought of it, an enchanted bow and arrow appeared in Arik's hands, and he shot the arrow at the witch without even looking. He ran for the window as fast as the wind, hearing the pained and startled cry of the Sea Witch.

The Sea Witch was caught unprepared for the arrow shot straight through her shoulder. The witch didn't bleed. She quickly pulled the arrow out and looked up to see the distant back of the prince.He was running away!

"This is the end for you!" Crowed the sea witch with malice on her wicked face.

Arik jumped out through the window, shattering the glass. He did a somersault in the air and dropped down into the sea. There was a bright light, and at once Arik felt dizzy and a slight pain, for where his two human legs had once been was now a shimmering green-blue tail, like a fish.

Morgan jumped through the window equally as fast. She fell into the water, and without a word, the sea witch had turned into a huge sea monster. Tentacles thrust out from all over her body like an octopus.Arik hadn't gotten far when a tentacle grabbed onto his tail.

He tried to wriggle free, but it only grew tighter.

Behind a rock at shore, Esmerelda was hidden. She had come immediately she heard her mother was coming to set the wedding date.

She saw her mother dive in after Arik and knew he was finished. She gave it no second thought as she jumped into the water and changed into a mermaid.

Esmerelda saw her mother's monstrous tentacles strangling Arik, and her heart constricted as there was no more struggle left in Arik. She raced towards them as it resonated within her that she must protect the prince, her best friend.

The last thing Arik saw before he blacked out was the distressed face of a certain blonde.