33: Other happenings: Atlantis [II]

[Days before]

The deep blue of the Atlantic shimmered with golden threads of light, as if the sun above had dipped its fingers into the sea and stirred it gently.

Far beneath the surface, where mortal eyes rarely reached, stood the grand underwater palace of Atlantis—its towers carved from coral and encrusted with pearls the size of fists.

The domes gleamed with the soft bioluminescence of the ocean, alive with colors that shimmered and shifted with each passing current. And within its halls, King Triton—the mighty ruler of the seas—sat upon his majestic throne.

His trident rested against the throne's side, gleaming faintly with the residual power of the ocean's breath, and Triton himself was a picture of regal strength. His long, flowing beard moved like seaweed in the current, and his crown sat tall upon his silver hair.

Around him, the court bustled with polite activity, but the real attention of the king was focused on the space before him—his seven daughters dancing in graceful synchrony.

Music flowed gently through the water, plucked by shimmering stringfish and sung by schools of chorus fish. The song was gentle and lovely, composed especially for this evening's display.

The girls swirled and twirled, their colorful tails leaving streaks in the water like underwater fireworks. Their movements were elegant, trained by years of practice, and their joy was apparent in the lightness of their expressions.

Ariel, the youngest of them all, stood out the most—not for lack of grace, but for the sheer energy she radiated.

While her sisters danced with the poise of practiced grace, Ariel leapt and spun with unbridled excitement, her red hair blazing behind her like a comet.

She spun in and out of the formations with wide, delighted eyes, improvising little movements that made the sea creatures chuckle.

Triton couldn't help but smile, watching his daughters in a rare moment of peace. The image tugged at a part of his heart that had remained sore for many years—the part once warmed by the presence of their late mother.

As the final notes of the song drifted into silence, Triton stood, clapping his enormous hands together. The ripple of applause echoed from the nearby guards and advisors.

"Magnificent!" he declared, his voice like the calm boom of a whale's call. "Absolutely magnificent. You've all improved so much!"

The girls swam toward him, beaming with pride. He reached out his large arms and wrapped all seven of them in a mighty embrace, somehow managing to pull them all close at once.

For a moment, it didn't matter that he was the ruler of an entire kingdom. In that moment, he was simply a father.

"Ariel, dear, that was marvellous. Any more energy and you might have crashed into the chandelier ," he chuckled, ruffling her vibrant hair.

"I wasn't that close," Ariel giggled, though even she wasn't quite sure if she'd been one spin away from knocking something over. "But it was fun, wasn't it?"

"It was," Triton said warmly. "You never fail to bring energy to our court, my little sea spark."

Sebastian, the crab with the strongest Caribbean accent ever heard in the Atlantic, scuttled up with a tiny scroll and a serious expression. "Your Majesty," he started, "I must say, that girl's got more bounce than a dolphin on caffeine. We really oughta be considerin' a safety zone!"

The girls laughed, and Triton waved him off. "Relax, Sebastian. Let them have their fun."

After some more laughter and conversation, the girls began to float lazily near Triton's throne, chattering among themselves.

Ariel stayed closest to her father, resting her chin on the curve of the throne and watching him quietly. Her brows were drawn just slightly together, as if deep in thought.

Triton noticed and gave her a curious glance. "Something on your mind, Ariel?"

She perked up. "Papa… do you remember that human boy you said had Mother's conch?"

Triton raised his eyebrows slightly. "Camden?"

"Yeah… him." Ariel played with a strand of her hair, twirling it around her finger. "Do you think we'll ever get to meet him? Or… I don't know, maybe even visit the surface?"

Triton looked at her long and hard, a storm of thoughts rolling behind his blue eyes.

"Why do you ask?" he asked calmly, though his tone held an edge of protectiveness.

Ariel flushed, slightly embarrassed. "It's just… I've always been curious about humans. Ever since I was a little guppy. And now this Camden person comes into the picture, with mother's conch no less. That means something, right?"

Triton leaned back in his throne, his hand stroking his beard thoughtfully. "He didn't steal it, that much I can tell you. The conch chose to respond to him…"

Ariel's eyes sparkled. "That's amazing."

"It is… curious," Triton admitted. "And perhaps even… promising. Though I must admit, I don't fully understand it yet. But that doesn't mean you'll be swimming up to the surface any time soon, young lady," he added, wagging a finger with a small smirk.

"Papa!" Ariel whined, her tail swishing. "I'm not going to run off! I just… I want to understand them. We hear so many stories about the humans—some good, some terrible, but I want to see for myself. I want to talk to one. To know what makes them laugh, cry… love. I want to learn their music, their dreams, their hearts."

Sebastian groaned. "Here we go again with da human talk," he muttered. "Ariel, I beg ya, humans ain't all glitter and stardust. They build ships to chop down forests and nets that scoop up fish like laundry. You get caught up with them, you gonna end up on someone's dinner plate!"

"Sebastian…" Triton said with a firm tone, then turned back to Ariel with a softer look. "Curiosity is not a sin, my daughter. But neither is caution. If there is a day when I feel it is safe, perhaps you may meet this Camden boy… But for now, your world is here."

Ariel folded her arms, puffing her cheeks. "Even when I'm a hundred years old, you'll still call me your 'little sea spark.'"

"Because you'll always be," Triton said with a loving smile.

Just then, one of the palace guards swam in with a message scroll. Triton opened it with a frown.

"Another request," he muttered. "They want to know how the seaquake last night came to pass. Whether it was a threat or a warning."

"It was grief," Ariel said quietly.

Triton paused, his gaze settling on her.

"You were remembering Mama, weren't you?" Ariel added softly. "That's what caused the storm."

Triton's expression tightened. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, he nodded.

Ariel floated closer, reaching out to take one of his massive fingers in her hand. "She wouldn't want you to be in pain," she said. "Mama wouldn't want you to hurt like that."

Triton smiled faintly. "No. She wouldn't." There was silence for a while, just the gentle hum of the coral palace and the soft lull of sea currents.

Finally, Triton sat up straight and placed his hand on Ariel's head.

"One day, perhaps you will find your own path, just like she hoped for each of you. Maybe that path will lead you to Camden, or to the surface. But until that day comes… we will wait."

Ariel beamed, gave her father a big ug before swimming after her sisters.

[Bedroom]

The room of the seven mer-princesses was alive with an ocean of activity. The lazy currents swirled through the chamber, mingling with their laughter and animated chatter.

Hair ribbons, seashell combs, and strings of pearls lay scattered across coral-carved vanity tables.

Soft pillow-fights erupted now and then, sending feather-soft starfish plumes wafting through the air.

Ariel sat cross-legged on a plush seaweed-covered cushion by the foot of the bed, rummaging with increasing frustration through her treasure chest.

Trinkets, odd human contraptions, shiny baubles—they spilled out in a tide of colored luminescence. She blinked at the ever growing pile and sighed dramatically.

"What are you doing?" sang Alana, the fourth eldest, flicking a seashell glitter across Ariel's nose with mischievous delight.

Ariel didn't look up. "I'm looking for that book, remember? The one that talks about humans, oh, why am I even holding this?" She pulled out a metal clockwork bird, wound it once, and stared as the wings clicked and clicked. She shook her head.

All six sisters paused, mid-laugh or mid-braid, and turned toward her. Aquata, brows raised, asked, "That book again?"

Ariel's shoulders drooped. "Yeah," she answered softly. "I thought I had it here."

Attina, the eldest sibling—her hair wrapped in orderly braids—set down a pearl-studded comb. The others followed suit, clustering around Ariel in a semi-circle. Their conversation wove around them like a gentle tide.

"Do you think Ariel?" Attina asked. "Maybe it got mixed up with Father's scrolls?"

Ariel exhaled, exhaustion showing in her pale green eyes. "I don't know. But I want to read about their stories. Where they travel, what they eat, how they laugh—everything!"

The sisters exchanged sympathetic glances.

"Okay," Aquata said at last, taking Ariel's hand in both of hers. "Let's see what we can remember from our meeting with Mother and Father."

They settled into a loose circle on the cushioned floor. Tossed aside pillow remnants now looked like small reefs of comfort around them.

"I've heard a bit from Father," Attina said. "But he tends to speak about them as though they're weird creatures. Like one watches fish in a tank."

Tiana piped up. "Mother used to say humans have songs so simple and beautiful they can make an emperor weep."

Ariel's eyes grew wide. "Emperor?"

Alana wiggled her eyebrows. "Or queen! We don't know their rulership system. It's confusing. Father doesn't like to speak of it."

Coral laughed. "I saw them once. On one of our surface swims with Mother. I remember the sound of weird leather on wood, and people shouting and dancing on tail-less limbs. They looked happy… but also sad, in a noisy way." She drew air through her fingers as though the noise lingered on them like salt.

Ariel leaned forward, anticipation crackling between them like electro-current. "Tell me everything you know. Every little detail."

Attina took a careful breath. "All right..."

"It was years ago, not long after Mother passed," she began. "Father took all of us with him. We swam near the shore—just close enough to see. That's where I first saw them."

A ripple of her hair brushed Ariel's cheek; she brushed it away gently.

"They're noisy," Attina continued. "They used tools I'd never seen, metal things that rang, wide boards with wheels, shiny wagons drawn by animals. They carried baskets of fruit. The colours spilled off them like coral at sunrise."

Ariel leaned forward, breath held. "What did they look like?"

"Hair like sunlit wheat, or dark as a midnight current. Sometimes bound with bows or covered by caps. Their clothes were textiles, stitched with patterns like the river weeds. They wore things called shoes and sometimes I felt sorry for them, being trapped in such narrow coverings."

Tiana covered her mouth. "Ugh, shoes?"

Attina continued,

"And they sang songs I never heard before, instruments I have never seen before." She paused. "They called to each other, asking for help, for food. They laughed—sometimes so hard their faces crumpled—and cried, I think, quietly."

Coral cupped her tail behind her. "Was it scary?"

Attina shook her head. "Not then. I felt… curious. Warm in my chest. "

"I touched the beach," Attina said softly. "I wanted to see the ground beneath. But I couldn't. When Father pulled us back…it felt like a dream fading."

Ariel exhaled sharply. "I wish I was there."

"Someday you will be," Attina said with a firm nod. "And you'll bring stories back to us."

The rest of the chamber sank into a thoughtful hush. Ariel dug her fingers into the soft seagrass beneath her, connecting to the sway of imagination.

A gentle knock sounded at the doorway.

"I'll get it," Ariel offered suddenly—"maybe Father brought the book!"

She darted over, swishing between vanity tables piled with combs and necklaces. Opening the carved door, she discovered a palace maid, clutching a small leather-bound volume.

"I believe this is what you were looking for, Your Highness," the maid said politely, extending the book.

Ariel took it with a gasp of joy. "Yes!" she whispered eagerly. Holding it close, she rushed back to the circle, leaning against Attina like she'd found air itself.

"It's the one!" she breathed.

Tiana and Arista shared excited smiles.

Astral candlelight glinted off the cover human script embossed in inky black: "One thousand and one nights". (A/N: 1001 Nights/ Arabian Nights/ 1001 fairytales.)

Ariel clenched it tight. "I can't believe it! I—thank you!"

Once again settled among her sisters, she opened the first page. As she scanned the lines of human-scripted text, her eyes glittered with wonder.

Together they leaned in, sisters-bound as only seven could be. Each took turns reading aloud.

Ariel's voice was breathless with enthusiasm, stumbling over consonants but surging forward all the same.

The others corrected her pronunciation, gasped at details of human discoveries—fire that burns without storm, music from boxes with buttons, runes that speak into glowing boxes.

They laughed at the mentions of bread with jam, frowned when stories described battles, and blushed when hints of romance crept in.

"What's 'kiss'?" Coral asked curiously.

Before Ariel could answer, Attina raised her hand. "We will read it together, carefully. Some things are sacred."

The sisters arranged themselves in a huddle, each leaning close. Soft snatches of conversation drifted through the room:

"They have... feelings like we do?"

"And they create… machines?"

"That's what it says."

The evening wore on. The book grew dog-eared at the corners. Ariel was half entangled in her sisters' embrace.

Attina's voice had grown soft and reverent as she narrated tales of ancient human myths, stories of heroes guiding by stars, of sea voyages in wooden beasts, of people who carried their homes in pockets.

When at last the reading paused at a tale called Aliaba and the 40 thieves the sisters looked at one another with wide, dreamy eyes.

Ariel whispered, "I want to hear them sing, Father. I want to see their lanterns. I want to feel… fire on my cheeks."

Attina laid a hand on her shoulder. "One day, Ariel. But for now... let us learn from these pages. Then, when the time is right, we can share it with Father."

Ariel hesitated. "What if he reads it and says no? What if... he won't let me meet them?"

Attina's gaze was steady. "Then we'll wait." A hush fell. Ariel closed the book gently, cradling it to her chest.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I can't wait."

=======================================