The Flame That Never Dies

Chapter 2, Edaline-

Mermaids were both the strangest and most fascinating creatures Edaline had ever seen.

It was entrancing to watch them glide through the water with their eel-like bodies. Their scales were purple and blue; quite lovely, really, if it wasn't for the tentacle-like strands of hair sprouting from their heads or their bulging eyes. They were smaller than elves were, but that seemed to benefit their ability to swim.

Just then there was a splashing in the water nearby; when she looked, there were two mermaids wrestling and shouting in their hiss-like language. She moved to do something, but in an instant they were swimming their separate ways.

She walked back to her spot on the beach, trying not to seem too entertained by the spectacle. The mer were easily offended even by something as small as a wrong look-- and they weren't afraid to get violent.

That was why Edaline had been assigned to oversee the migration; when the humans' horrible oil spill had happened and the Council had ordered the mermaids to leave the surrounding bays, some had fought back.

Edaline couldn't imagine leaving her home, but then again, she couldn't imagine using force against a direct order from the Council-- although that was changing too. There were rumors of the Black Swan, a mysterious rebel group who worked against the elvin leaders. At first they were easy to ignore, but lately Jolie had been mentioning them more, as if she thought they would actually help her and Brant's situation. Even Grady didn't denounce their existence as much as he had before.

But Edaline was afraid Jolie was taking things too far. Talk of finding them, joining them... Edaline was worried her daughter would do something she'd later regret.

"Do you think you have the situation under control, Ms. Ruewen?" a deep voice asked, startling her out of her reverie.

She turned to find Councillor Bronte glaring at his feet.

"Don't like the sand?" she said, unable to stop a small smile.

"I've never been fond of tiny, bothersome things that somehow find a way to stick with you indefinitely."

"Oh, like children?"

The pointy-eared Ancient's eyebrow raised. "Precisely."

Edaline swallowed a laugh and faced the ocean again. Cold, salty wind blew her hair back, and she smiled. "I'm afraid I disagree with you, Bronte. I find sand to be inspiring."

"How so?"

"It reminds you how such a tiny thing in such a big world can make a difference-- even if the only change is your mood's decline."

"You always could see the best in everything. That's why the Council found you the wisest option to oversee such a violent species."

Edaline watched as a group of small mer-- more than likely a class of children-- moved through the water. Although she could not understand what they were saying, she recognized the happiness of youth. A species of violence, yes, but also of hope for the future.

"They're not as different from us as you think," she said softly. "Elves aren't as compliant as the Council would like to believe."

In her periphery, Bronte stiffened. "Are you referring to the Black Swan?"

"Do you believe they exist?" Edaline asked, meeting his eyes.

He looked away. "Perhaps."

The Councillor said no more, so Edaline let them stand there in silence, listening to the roar of the waves and the calls of the birds and the chatter of the mermaids. Eventually Bronte cleared his throat.