A silence hang over the village, cut off by the sound of the wind knocking against the windows of some small houses. A storm was coming, the sea was violent, the waves were moving in all directions. The villagers, plunged into a deep sleep, could only live the consequences.
On the other hand, in the castle at the other end of the village, a young prince was awakened by these big squalls. Panicking, he ran to take refuge in his parents' majestic bed. He was asked about his presence in their room, he answered, trembling, that a monster was hitting on his window. His parents, wanting to reassure their little child, told him that it was only the wind. Reluctant, the young prince returned to his room and looked towards the corner of the room.
The shape of webbed hands glued to the glass.
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La blanche
The day rose quietly, the moon giving way to the sun. Strangely, the sea had calmed down. The gusts of wind were gone, the sea, once agitated, was now calm. The great storm which had spent the night scaring our young prince, had now taken refuge in the depths of the sea, leaving pretty multicolored fish washed up on the beach. All the villagers were delighted and thanked the sea for these offerings. As for the young prince, he was more frightened than anything else. No one had seen what he saw, no one had experienced the fear he had experienced and no one could understand him.
His parents tried to understand what had happened to him, but neither believed the young boy who was telling the truth. Realizing that his parents would never believe him, the young prince let it go and went back to his room. Sitting on his bed, his little brain was trying to find a way to prove what he had seen, but nothing came to him.
He searched and searched for a long time, so long that he had forgotten the reason he was trying so hard. Eight years had passed and he was now 17. No one had forgotten that big storm that had raged in the pour, now rich, little village. But the prince had forgotten the one thing he should have remembered, the one thing that had marked him, but that had been erased by time. This thing that we can only see in fairy tales, which made us dream and which made us blind to reality. This horrible, nightmarish reality. This monster called a mermaid.
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Everything was calm, maybe even too calm. The prince was sitting on the sand, his feet soaked in the cold water of the sea. His chocolate brown hair flew in the wind, mingling lightly. He gazed at the horizon, his eyes in the waves and a heart light as a feather. His eyes were suddenly drawn to something dark red sticking out from behind a rock. He got up slowly and walked to this stone.
But the only thing he had time to see were ash gray hair disappearing between the waves of the sea.