It had been ages, or an hour, or maybe even just a few minutes, of kicking up sand as I ran, of following the fish through the sea.
I didn't take much note of my surroundings, eyes fixed on the fish who continued to plunge forward. Until I ran forward after them, and a looming shadow passed overhead. I stopped. I looked back. When I glanced down, I was gliding just above the surface of the sand, just like Grandma had once sailed over land. The fish waited.
The shadow was a tunnel, an archway of blackest stone, the water under it slightly warped, almost distorted, as if it were a portal, or a magic shield of water. It was fashioned from such dark rock that it seemed to eat up the light, carved into the shape of a fair maiden with a fish's swishing tail, decorated with elegant whorls. A mermaid. Whose face was frozen in terror. A doorway of dark, deadly beauty, an entrance to a deathly place.
A portal of night.
A gateway.
A gateway…to where? I turned back and saw that two fish had pushed back the slimy kelp growing down from a rock overlay. The kelp, I realised, which had been covering the sight that lay ahead.
I drifted forward to see better. And I forgot how to breathe.
If Atlantis was a lost city, then this was a forgotten empire. The simple grandeur of the houses in Kaleveh looked positively destitute next to these residencies. The buildings were all fashioned of the same dark stone, like a giant sheet of blackness under the sea, radiating an unholy power. From up above, you might mistake it as the dark depths of an underwater sinkhole, but instead it was a lightless domain, a kingdom with no warmth. A land that did not sing.
Little adornments of crystals flashed here and there, an altar in a temple, a dome on a church, a decoration on a building. A rose on a vine that crept up the side of a memorial pyre in a park. They were like stars, whose pure glow lit up even the inkiest of nights. Despite the ravaging shadows, it was exquisite. I could see signs of life; a bubbling fountain in a square (how the fountain managed to flow, I had no idea), a light turned on in a building, the sound of voices. Some crystals were positioned like streetlights on the corners of roads, some glaringly bright fish mindlessly swimming about. I loved it, but I hated it. It looked a heavenly place to live, yet it felt like hell. Like if I dared to set foot in their streets, I might be stuck there forever.
And in the middle…
A palace, a towering castle completely constructed of the same luminescent crystal, it put all the other magnificent architectural pursuits in that undersea land to shame. Through the way the darkness reflected off its panes of glass, I could see every engraving, every designed dent made with a hammer and chisel, every single swirl of blossoming vines, every added little detail, every corner and curve and crevice. It made my breath hitch in my throat, it made my imagination come alive and dance, and yet it made a chilling tingle run down my spine, made a shudder rack my body. What was the price of such controlled, careless extravagance? How many lives had been spent needlessly, how many years had been wasted to make this sinfully stunning masterpiece? In the Northern Lands we were not so much frugal as effortlessly basic, in the East they were modern and unique, in the South the people were regally minimalist. I'd never stopped to consider what life might be like under the sea that spanned all continents.
I thought of the mermaid whose stone body formed that archway. Had she been a sacrifice, a pure maiden killed as an offering, a victim of a horrible event, or did her mangled body simply serve as a memorial for some ancient purge? Or were her petrified limbs, her tortured eyes…a reminder?
The fish had stopped to let me take in the unearthly view, but now they raced forward again, like beacons of cheerful colour in the gloomy streets. I followed them again, but I hesitated when I saw where they were taking me. To the castle, the silver palace in the dead centre of the region.
But I didn't stop for long; it would be impossible for me to make my way back to the boat, this ghostly metropolis was my only hope of salvation. Where am I now? I wondered. That point in the Channel was notorious for its trench-like depth, but it seemed like I'd been going downhill the whole time I was following the fish—and then on the threshold of the archway, there had been a winding stairway that I had to go down to reach the ground level of the city. How far had I gone? Where was I? I didn't suppose there would be any maps displayed in plain sight here. I snatched a look at my watch; it had a built-in compass. But the screen was blank, showing nothing. How far down did the sea truly go?
As I walked hurriedly on, I noticed countless pairs of eyes staring out from the windows of the perfect, obsidian houses. I saw people swimming around—people with the torsos of humans and the flicking tails of fish. Merpeople. I saw their floating clouds of hair, I saw their pointed, arched ears, and I saw their piercing citrine eyes, stares that immediately went down. Down to my slightly brown legs, my bare feet covered with a crisscross of scars mostly from me dropping things on my feet when I was young, my stubby, wriggling toes. I grimaced at them and waved tentatively, only to be met with them turning tail and disappearing into the darkness of their eerie homes before I could get a good look at them, vanishing swiftly into the gloom.
What was I to them? To me, they were mysterious creatures of myth suddenly made real, siren songbirds with people's torsos and scaly dolphin tails, who lured sailors to their deaths. Was I just a human, an unknown creature with legs and arms from the land above, from uncharted territory?
But then I thought of how developers from the East, and occasionally the Northern Lands, expanded their business through sea travel, how fish were caught in massive nets to feed people like me.
Perhaps that mermaid had been the maimed result of a sailor's catch gone wrong.
I floated smoothly along the inky sand and nearly crashed face-first into an iron post. Stepping back, dazed, I realised the pole was part of a fence, a black fence of spiked iron spears. I looked around. The fish had slipped between the gaps in the menacing posts, but I was locked outside. The fish stared pointedly, almost bossily, in one direction; a queer sight. I followed their eyes and found myself looking at a stern mer-guard who floated in front of the gates, arms crossed over his toned chest. He glared back at me, caterpillar eyebrows not even twitching. Embarrassed to be the subject of such a fixated gaze, I suddenly found myself needing to professionally inspect the fence. I looked back up at the fish, who leered at me, then quickly flicked my eyes down. Through the corner of my eyes, I saw the merman uncross his burly arms with an exaggerated gesture and flicked a hidden switch. Slowly, too slowly, the gate slid open.
As one, the fish made a subtle gesture, like they were saying, hurry up, what are you doing? before darting forward again. Like a dog leashed to its master, I followed obediently, hearing the faint click of the gate sliding shut before I turned a corner and ascended the steps to the shining palace.
It was even more beautiful in person, all the more detailed, all the more lavish, but somehow less like a show of debauchery and more like a precious monument dedicated to some deity. Yet I did not realise how truly grand it was until I stepped inside, staring around in wonder. From the outside, the carefully cut precision of the walls allowed me to see only the darkness reflecting off them, but from the inside, the walls were as smooth and clear as glass. I couldn't get enough of the undoubtedly priceless splendour of even just the entrance hall, couldn't get enough of the crystal chandeliers hanging from the diamond ceiling, the exorbitant, etched artwork that was present at every corner.
It came straight out of my wildest dreams, but it was nothing like anything I had ever seen before.
I couldn't get enough of the fine tapestries on the wall that were somehow not affected by the water, or the elaborate doorways to enormous rooms. Fit for a king—or a god. I wanted to stand there forever simply admiring the ornate furniture and design, even while I wanted to smash this place down, the castle that was probably worth the entire wealth of Kaleveh, and bring the pieces of this treasure to share with the world. I wanted to live here forever just so my eyes might feast on this—this masterpiece, yet I wished I'd never seen it because I knew my future life onshore would seem doubly dull.
"Usually, one would not dare to enter my palace without first grovelling at my feet." a voice remarked casually. I jumped almost a foot into the air. Where did that come from? I wondered. The voice replied so quickly I wondered if I'd accidentally thought it aloud. "From here."
There was no pointing arrow that formed in the air. The sound echoed all around, making it impossible to tell where it was coming from. But I turned, and I saw her.
"You." I blurted without thinking. Said to the woman who loomed over me, taller than the Branokann had been, emitting an aura of incandescent power like the bright colours of a poisonous butterfly, as if saying, touch me and I'll kill you. Touch me and I'll watch you breathe your last. The strikingly powerful female who studied me like a predator eying prey, features so much, so much like…
Then as I saw that her skin was not such a pallid, chalky white but elegantly pale, smooth and unblemished, that her eyes were not dark, endless abysses of evil but an alluring navy with the crystalline light hitting them like stars. I saw that the hair was not stiff and black, like sheets of paper, but really a sweeping curtain of blue and silver. Then I started seeing those lovely features in other places. The cyan and silver hair in a temple by the sea. The eyes reflected in the colour of the deep ocean. The creamy skin, in a vulnerable position of respect before Nyoraia.
Barefoot, with sparkling jewels studded at her fair throat and wrists, dressed in a sweeping midnight gown embroidered with silver, there was no crown upon her rippling hair.
A queen of her own right, she did not need one.
She was my opposite in so many ways, two women with different realms to rule. One cool and harsh, immortal and unbending. The other, the other side of the same coin of the universe, with a heart of flame, mortally passionate.
For standing before me, was the Elemental, the goddess Aquanaya.