"Dad, where did you get me?" Aurelia asked abruptly, her voice steady but laced with urgency.
Her father froze, his expression unreadable as he looked at her. "What...? I... I don't understand what you mean," he stammered, his discomfort obvious.
"Please, Dad," Aurelia pleaded softly, her voice almost a whisper. "Don't hide it. Just tell me the truth."
A tense silence filled the room, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Her father finally exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping as if a great weight had settled on them.
"Your mother..." he began, his voice low. "Your mother couldn't have children."
Aurelia's gaze dropped to the floor, her heart sinking at the revelation.
"We tried everything," he continued, his tone heavy with sorrow. "Years of treatments, consultations, and prayers... but the answer was always the same. Nothing. It wasn't until one evening, when your mother and I were walking along the beach, that everything changed."
Aurelia looked up, her full attention now on him.
"We found you," he said, his voice trembling. "You were lying in a basket made of what looked like seaweed. You were sleeping so peacefully, your tiny fists curled up, and your hair—your blue hair—it was unlike anything we'd ever seen. You looked like an angel sent from heaven itself." He paused, wiping at his eyes.
"We were overjoyed, but also... confused. We thought maybe someone had lost you, so we searched the area. But there was no one—no sign of anyone nearby. The only thing we found was this."
Her father stood up, walking into the small living room. He opened a red box resting on a shelf and carefully pulled out a folded piece of aged parchment. Returning to the table, he handed it to Aurelia.
"This came with you," he said quietly. "We couldn't understand it. It's written in strange symbols, nothing we'd ever seen before. So, we kept it safe in this box all these years."
Aurelia unfolded the paper, her fingers trembling slightly. The symbols looked like intricate, flowing script, entirely unfamiliar to her. She turned it over in her hands, hoping for a clue, but it remained indecipherable.
Arielle leaned closer, curiosity lighting up her face. "May I?" she asked.
Aurelia nodded, handing it over. Arielle scanned the parchment, her green eyes widening slightly. "This... this is written in ancient Atlantian," she said, passing it to Caelum.
Caelum took it, his expression calm and focused. "Yes, it's an ancient dialect, but I was taught to read this during my studies. Give me a moment."
Aurelia leaned forward anxiously as he examined the text. After a few seconds, Caelum spoke, his voice solemn. "It says, 'please keep her safe and happy. Never let her return Atlantis .'"
The words hit Aurelia like a wave crashing over her. Her chest tightened, and an ache formed in her throat. "They didn't want me," she whispered, her voice breaking. "They just... abandoned me?"
"Aurelia," Arielle said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"No," Aurelia said, shaking her head, tears welling in her eyes. "They didn't even want me back. Why? Why would they leave me here? Why would they... reject me like that?"
Her father reached out, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "They may have left you, Aurelia, but your mother and I—we chose you. You've always been our daughter. Always."
Despite his comforting words, the note's message echoed in her mind. She was loved by the people who raised her, but the truth of her origins carried a sting she couldn't ignore. She looked at the paper again, her vision blurred by tears, and resolved to uncover the real reason she was sent away.
They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity until Caelum broke it. "We have to leave now," he said, his voice calm but firm. "It's not safe for you or your... uh, father."
"Wait, you're leaving?!" Aurelia's dad exclaimed, standing abruptly. "You just got here! Where are you even going?"
"Dad," Aurelia said softly, looking into his worried eyes. "I have to go back to Atlantis. They already know who I am and probably where I live. If they find out about you—about you being my dad—they might hurt you. I can't let that happen."
"But... if you leave, who will I have left?" His voice cracked, the weight of losing his daughter all over again bearing down on him.
Aurelia's heart ached, but she squeezed his hand tightly. "Dad, I'm not leaving forever. I promise I'll come back. But I need to go now to protect you, my friends, and even Atlantis. I don't fully understand it yet, but... I'm their princess. At least, I think I am."
Her dad sat down heavily, holding her hand as if afraid to let her go. "Your mother... she would be so proud of you. Just remember, no matter where you go, you'll always be my daughter. And we'll always love you."
Aurelia fought back tears as she hugged him tightly. "I love you too, Dad."
Finally, he let her go, his hands lingering as if holding on to the memory of her touch. Arielle and Caelum exchanged quick goodbyes, offering words of reassurance before leading Aurelia out of the house.
As they walked away, Arielle glanced at Aurelia. "That went well, didn't it?"
"Yeah," Aurelia replied, her voice heavy with emotion as she glanced back at her father's house one last time. "I just hope I'm doing the right thing."
"You are," Caelum said with certainty. "Now, let's head back to Atlantis. We'll fill you in on everything, start your training, and prepare for what's to come. You have a kingdom to protect, Princess."
Aurelia exhaled deeply. The title still felt foreign to her, but she nodded. "Alright. Let's go. "
As they headed toward the water, Aurelia couldn't shake the mix of fear and determination bubbling within her. The weight of her responsibility was daunting, but she was ready to face it .