The weather presented itself in huge erratic waves, causing the surface of the ocean to rumble in waves of great magnitude, beneath the shelter of raging waters, corals and creatures scrambled in disarray. Aren gazed above the surface of the waters, the sloshing of the waters hindered the moonlight from illuminating the entire ocean. He sighed, momentarily awaiting for the weather to subside. He positioned himself in between the deep darkness below him-where legends and monsters roamed-where his grandmother forbid him to enter, and the surface of the water above him, where the large regions of skies subjugated the horizon.
He was a troublemaker, occasionally escaping the palace walls and swimming to the parts of the ocean where not one merman could reach him, where not one sea creature recognized his stature-the favored prince of the Cyanea Empire, seventh in line for the throne, and the most reckless of all seven brothers. It hardly took him a breath to steady himself immediately when another streak of light trumpeted along the skies, its resonance reaching his body, triggering his silver scaled tail to twitch.
His head turned up once again. He swore.
This was not a good sign.
The flashes of lights were not usually of this concentration, streak after streak the lightning came, not once did it stop, white hued ones were normal, but once the purple and scarlet hued lights made its way to the water, the waves abruptly ceased. Utter silence ruled the waters, even the moon hid behind its clouds, stopping its rays from getting any further, as if it were waiting for something to happen-afraid for something to happen.
Nonetheless, Aren's vision was genetically enhanced, enabling him to see past the darkness, he scanned his surroundings and gradually swam back, away from the deafening silence that kept stroking his thoughts. Beyond the strays of moss and vines, he could still see the marks he made on the stones just meters away from him, with one swift turn, he checked once again for creatures, then once more above him-to the surface, still no sound. Not one movement greeted his tail.
It was too quiet. Too calm. Too dark.
Aren's vision unexpectedly cascaded into absolute obscurity, he swore yet again. He could not see a damn thing, his enhanced vision had no residual effect, and darkness surrounded him like a cloud, leaving Aren utterly defenseless. A part of him knew he never should have ventured tonight, countless warnings sprawled across the news pertaining to the widespread materialization of sinister portals and doorways urged even his father, the Emperor of Cyanea herself to call upon an immediate empire lock-down, encasing the glass castle along with its neighboring buildings into a steel dome. A dome generated solely for the Cyanean people, and can only be seen by them alone.
Aren shoved his thoughts way and began contemplating on what to do next. He tried peering through the layers of darkness, turning to his left side, then to his right. Overhead, there was nothing but silence. As he turned his head downwards, Aren felt a wave of energy pulse throughout his entire body. The ocean was cold as ice, almost as if darkness payed homage to the seas, and yet the wave of warmth that surged through him felt somewhat consoling, it felt familiar. He knew the darkness
His tail twitched abruptly as shrieks of the ocean creatures erupted from below. Light resounded underneath the deep ocean rocks, unleashing the realm into shades of black and scarlet. Aren felt the power cloak him like a second skin, reeling his body to move further below and into the abyss. The pull was natural and effortless, even his tail thrummed in recognition of its magnanimity. Aren smiled with delight as he neared the light's end, forcing his tail to swim faster, quicker. It was all or nothing. His rebellious instincts begged to take over, he needed the excitement, needed the thrill, needed the danger. Darkness was his company, might as well enjoy it.
Aren's curiosity peaked at the sight before him, his eyes widened and his breathing hastened. Wrapped in layers and layers of weed and sea vines was a girl, a being not of his kind, an alien. Sharp sea vines engrossed the girl, sprawling her entire body with lethal garlands of thorns and moss. Around the body were four distinctly positioned boulders placed in exact distance from each other, shielding the girl from each side. Her pale skin stood out from the weeds and vines, hair flowing above almost like the ocean, Aren leisurely watched her movements inconspicuously as he approached the being.
The pull was almost magnetic for Aren, an alien being in their realm, an unusual sight to behold. His thoughts began splurging one after the other, tales of these beings who walked on land and created fascinating contraptions and structures that spanned as high as the sky. Beings who roamed free above the ocean, explored the world with eagerness and creativity. Beings who destroyed their own land and hunted their kind. Beings who have four 'arms' – a pair situated atop their body and the other placed below their hips, "a strange oddity" is what Aren's grandfather called them. In lieu of glossy scaled tails like theirs, these beings had longer 'arms', bizarre arms that they use to travel, to walk, and occasionally these beings would even swim into their underwater realm for a short period of time but never did last long.
Because they could not breathe underwater.
Aren scrambled towards the girl, cautiously removing the vines that held her back, the words of his grandfather ran through his mind, these beings could not last their atmosphere, they were too weak, too frail and would eventually die submerged from over exposure. The thorns that adorned her body were sickening at the least and fatal at best, time was his adversary and he desperately pleaded to the gods for more time, he wanted the girl to survive, to live.
The sea vines were too challenging for Aren to handle alone. For what seemed like minutes, his fingers struggled to cut down the interlacing twists of the vines, yet as he continued, he felt the vines lengthen, extending itself longer, further wrapping the girl with more and more vines. A life for a life. Aren straightened at the sheer sound of the voice. Its icy wrath menacing and unforgiving, much like the waves during a storm. It was just too much; layers upon layers of vines were stacked upon each other—the girl was chained to the depths of the ocean.
Then, a pulse. Followed by another. His gaze immediately fixed onto the girl's chest. Aren felt a tug in his mind.
Try Again, it said. He did.
Aren clawed his way through the girdled vines, its inner layer becoming easier to remove as it was somehow rugged and burnt on the edges. His thoughts grew rampant yet again as he reeled towards the girl's lower torso and began unwrapping the thick coatings of vines that kept the girl chained underwater. The inner layers of the vines were burnt. Burnt. Fires underwater were indeed possible but rare, it was treasured among the sea folk and can only be summoned by one creature - the one and only creature and yet there he was, hurriedly tearing open tons of scorched vines that may very well be summoned by a mere alien.
Once Aren finished unwrapping the girl's body from all the chains of vines and moss, he noticed that her striking pearl skin was embellished with countless scars, scars of various shapes and sizes intertwined with one another to form a far greater scar, a vine-like scar that swirled from her right collar bone to her left arm which then ran through her belly and finally down onto both her lower 'arms'. It was almost like a tattoo, a sweet frightful spectacle to behold and yet it was almost too beautiful to watch.
In one swoop, Aren held the girl carefully as he began his ascent to the surface. With one final glance back at the heaps of disfigured vines and moss, Aren swiftly whirled overhead, surpassing one of the huge neighboring boulders that kept the girl company. Nevertheless as Aren went farther and farther away from the seemingly eye-catching boulders his body tensed, halting his movements and speeding the rate of his heart, he felt watched. The cold dark waters did nothing but hasten the residual aura that now took Aren by the neck. His eyes travelled back and forth to his sides, searching for nearby creatures.
Not so fast prince. It chuckled. Wrapping his thoughts with fear and panic.
Aren never stopped, despite the forbidding voice slamming against the walls of his mind, his tail persisted. Rounding the dark depths of the ocean, straight to the surface he went, his right arm cushioned the back of the girl while his other arm supported her lower body, nesting the girl's head onto Aren's shoulder. He felt the girl move onto his body, snuggling onto his warmth as best she can. Aren's grip tightened as he brought her body closer and he could feel her ice cold frame trace his skin. She was dangerously cold and yet it was of wonder to Aren that she was still alive.
The surface of the ocean was near his reach, a few meters was all it took for him to save this being's life, to breath the surface of the clouds once again—to their territory. Aren swam to the surface, with the girl in tow, her face calm and at peace. Beautiful. Slowly, his calloused fingers caressed her face, tracing the beautifully carved lines of the alien thoroughly, engraving her face to his memory. His eyes felt anguish and nostalgia, as if he had known her before, a kindred spirit, he felt a connection-a bond.
His thoughts raced back to his grandfather, telling the young Aren of the precautions and dangers in encountering such 'cursed' beings. The legends and the myths, their 'shortcomings' and viciousness, and how they butchered his kind in cold blood.
The burning sensation shook the prince, dropping his hand from the girl's face. His right wrist burned. An icy grip. A life for a life, dear prince. His gaze lingered onto his wrist, the burn still fresh and terrifying. The lines that wrapped the base of his wrist throbbed and darkened to black, mimicking a dark tattoo-like bracelet of thorns and vines, much like the ones he removed from the girl.
A mark. A reminder for what was to come.
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The witch watched. Her eyes instilled on both of the beings above, to the girl whose origins remains a mystery, as she regained her consciousness and slowly took in the presence of the prince, his arms encased around her to keep her frail body afloat. And to the prince whose eyes stretched wide as the girl's beauty enthralled his majesty.
The witch only observed, her lips tugging upward at the sight of the pair. Connected and cursed, they were. Foolish yet hopeful, it seemed. The fates shone on both of them once more, intertwined beneath the beguiling shade of the moonlight, unbeknownst to both of them, the cynic wheels of fate turning and weaving another tale of love and sorrow. And for a moment, the witch felt nothing but pity for the trials and events that were about to be set in motion.
Their story.