Chapter 19: Extinction

The ocean stretched endlessly, its twilight depths illuminated by glimmers of bioluminescent life. Shoals of lanternfish wove through the water like ribbons of starlight, while great manta rays glided gracefully above, their wings stirring faint currents. The undersea kingdom of Orinthal lay nestled within an immense trench, its pearlescent towers rising from the seafloor like shimmering beacons. Crafted from crystalline coral and opalescent shells, the city pulsed with faint light, a testament to the beauty and ingenuity of the merfolk who once thrived here.But Orinthal, for all its grandeur, was cloaked in silence. The bustling marketplaces and symphonic gatherings of old had long faded. Now, the only sound that carried through the currents was the faint hum of aquatic creatures—a solemn echo of what once was. Whalesongs mourned in the distance, and the keening cries of siren squids echoed through the labyrinthine reefs, adding a haunting melody to the stillness. Adair swam slowly through the city, his presence marked only by the soft, rhythmic beat of his tailfin. The emerald and silver hues of his scales reflected the ambient light as he moved, his keen eyes scanning his surroundings. His patrol route wove through abandoned districts, where vibrant corals had grown unchecked over once-thriving communal halls. Schools of curious reef fish darted through shattered windows, their small bodies stirring up clouds of silt that drifted lazily through the water. The Abyssal Blight had left its mark on everything. Not only had it stolen the mermaids—the heart of their society—but it had robbed the ocean itself of its vibrancy. Adair passed a once-bustling plaza where the glow of sea lanterns had guided generations of merfolk. Now, those same lanterns flickered erratically, their magical light fading, as though mourning the loss of those who had crafted them. He paused beside an ancient mural etched into the coral wall, its colors dulled but its story clear. It depicted mermaids in all their glory: their iridescent tails curling gracefully as they sang songs of the sea, their bioluminescent hair glowing like halos. Adair's gaze lingered on the central figure, a mermaid with a radiant smile, her hands outstretched as if welcoming the viewer into her world. It was a painful reminder of what had been lost. The Abyssal Blight had begun decades ago, long before Adair was born, but its effects still rippled through every facet of their society. It was said to have originated in the Hadal Trench, a place so deep and dark that even the most daring merfolk feared to venture there. Legends spoke of ancient Kraken Lords who guarded the trench and of forbidden knowledge buried within its abyssal depths. The Blight, some claimed, was a curse unleashed when the merfolk grew too bold, harvesting resources and disturbing the balance of the seas. The sickness had started subtly. At first, only the eldest mermaids were affected, their once-brilliant scales turning dull and brittle. They began to weaken, their songs—an integral part of merfolk magic—losing their strength and harmony. Then came the crystallization, a grotesque transformation where their bodies solidified into lifeless coral structures. It wasn't long before younger mermaids began to fall victim, the Blight spreading like a tide of despair. The mermen, unaffected by the Blight, were left to watch helplessly as their mates, sisters, and daughters succumbed. The healers of Orinthal, renowned for their mastery of oceanic remedies, worked tirelessly to find a cure. They sought out rare sea herbs that grew only in hydrothermal vents, extracted essences from spectral jellyfish, and invoked ancient rituals in the hope of reversing the curse. But their efforts were in vain. The Blight's impact extended beyond the physical loss of life. Without mermaids, the fabric of merfolk society unraveled. Mermaids were the lifeblood of their kind, their songs binding their communities and their very presence ensuring the continuation of their race. Their extinction threatened to bring about not only the end of the merfolk but the collapse of the underwater ecosystems they had long nurtured and protected. Desperation led to drastic measures. The ruling council decreed that the remaining mermaids—those who had somehow resisted the Blight—be safeguarded at all costs. But "safeguarded" soon became a euphemism for captivity. The surviving mermaids were taken to breeding sanctuaries, vast domed structures of reinforced coral and magical barriers. Within these sanctuaries, they were subjected to a life of isolation, their freedom stripped away in the name of survival. Adair had visited one such sanctuary only once, and the memory haunted him. The air inside had been thick with an unnatural stillness, the kind that pressed against your skin and left an ache in your chest. The mermaids, their once-luminous scales dulled by grief, floated aimlessly in the vast chambers, their gazes hollow. They were surrounded by artificial gardens of glowing seaweed and shimmering anemones, but no beauty could mask the reality of their existence. The sanctuaries were heavily guarded, and only the most powerful and influential mermen were allowed entry. These mermen, chosen for their lineage and societal standing, were granted the "privilege" of mating with the captive mermaids. It was a cold and calculated system, devoid of the love and connection that had once defined merfolk relationships. Adair's own place in this hierarchy was insignificant. As a young merman of no remarkable lineage, he knew that he would never be allowed near the sanctuaries. His dreams of finding a mate, of building a family, had long since withered. He had resigned himself to a life of duty, patrolling the borders of Orinthal and ensuring the safety of their dwindling population. As he swam onward, the weight of his thoughts bore down on him. The currents carried the faint scent of salt and sea flora, a bittersweet reminder of the ocean's vastness and the isolation within it. He passed a forest of kelp, its towering fronds swaying gently in the water. Tiny seahorses clung to the stalks, their delicate forms almost invisible against the greenery. A pod of dolphins darted through the shadows, their clicks and whistles resonating faintly through the water. Adair's patrol brought him to the edge of the trench, where the waters grew colder and darker. Here, the scent of the ocean changed, carrying with it an underlying sharpness—a hint of decay from the depths. He paused, his hand brushing against the rough texture of a nearby rock outcrop. The sensation grounded him, a reminder of the physical world amid the weight of his memories. He gazed into the abyss, where the shadows seemed to writhe with unseen movement. The Hadal Trench loomed below, a place of mystery and fear. It was said that the Kraken Lords still guarded its depths, their immense forms hidden within the darkness. Adair wondered, not for the first time, if the Blight truly had been their doing. The thought was unsettling, but Adair pushed it aside. He had a duty to his people, and dwelling on the past would not change the present. The mermaids were gone, their voices silenced, and the ocean felt emptier for it. But as he turned away from the trench, a flicker of something new stirred within him—a faint, fragile hope. For he had found a mermaid to keep for his own, and he will make sure no one else could lay their hands on her.