As the years passed, Turbinella grew into a lovely young princess. Murex was promoted to be her personal guard, and followed the princess, not only to all of her lessons, but to the celebrations she attended, her frequent trips to the Royal Coral Garden, and, as Turbinella grew older, through the Kingdom of Mer itself – at a safe radius of course.
It was an opulent kingdom, crafted from clams and crushed sea shells, held together with silver and coral, overlaid on the sunken city. Mer swam through the crowded streets by day, their many colored tails forming a cacophony for the eyes to look upon. Busiest of all was the city square, in which there was a statue of King Brittlestar and Queen Conch, and many mer would set up carts and stalls in which to sell their wares; jewelry, combs, and other such crafted items. On occasion, treasures from the Brittlefins surfaced here too, some traded and many others found on lost wreckages amongst the bones.
During her first few trips into the city that surrounded the castle, Turbinella spent a lot of her time here, looking at the various strings of pearls and sea shell mugs. It came to be that she knew most of the people in the kingdom, and that they knew her – not just as a princess, but as a kind soul.
It was not long, however, before the same paths grew tiresome to Turbinella. She had seen all that the inner city had to offer, twice over. The whales travelled to mate, and she was told that sea birds migrated up above. Why then, could she not travel too? To follow her instinct?
One day, when Turbinella was fourteen, she told Murex, “I’m going to see the bounds of my kingdom.”
Murex frowned. “I don’t think that is a very good idea, Princess. You have studies shortly.”
Princess Turbinella jutted out her lower lip. Stubbornly, she said, “how can I help my kingdom when I don’t even know what it needs?” Her logic was flawless, perhaps one too many lessons had been had.
“You have seen your kingdom. You know their needs.”
“The lowest caste is always sent to the outskirts. The mer who need the most help... pushed aside. That is what my books say.” She said, much to his pride at her learning and simultaneously, his irk. “I want to see what the edges of my kingdom look like, to make sure that is not happening here.”
“You are too kind,” said Murex, with a sigh. He seldom won debates with Turbinella. “Your parents see to it however.”
She gave a grin, kissing her seahorse on the head. “Then there is no danger in a swim there.”
“Let us go, then. We’ll see the outskirts of your kingdom.”
And so the two mer and the seahorse swam through the kingdom, to the very outer reaches. And, yes, the lowest caste did live here, but Turbinella’s parents were very kind, and they were very attentive. Even the poor were well-cared for. Their poverty might have stopped them from wearing silver around their necks or pearls bound to their tails, but they still had decent homes, and none went hungry. So long as all took only their needed amount, the kingdom had enough for all.
The houses were smaller but well-tended, and the colors were not the same rich purples and blues as the castle, but they were there. The reef still made it’s home, and where there was shadow it was hushed by the gathering of fish of every color – just as within the city.
An older mer was sorting shells on a stone bench just outside of his house. He waved when Turbinella went past, clearly not recognizing her. Thrilled at that, Turbinella waved back.
Still, Turbinella pushed on further, until the houses faded away. Around her, the city structures grew older, and then more broken, and then vanished completely like ghost ships when the sun splits the horizon. In the distance, the coral and stone structures were covered in shadow, looking haunting and exciting at all once. It was as though she had found herself in the pages of one of the books she held so dear!
Murex spoke up, “the Deep Waters will approach soon, Turbinella. We cannot go any further. I won’t allow it.”
Turbinella wanted to go further, but she didn’t want Murex to get in trouble with her parents, either, so, after a longing look, she relented. Just as they were turning to go back into the kingdom, however, a blur in the distance caught Turbinella’s eye.
She pointed at it, gasping. “What is that?”
The streak was there a second time and then gone, zipping between two rocky outcroppings. It seemed to be going further into the distance, away from Turbinella and her guard. It was clearly alive, and far too large to be just a fish. And yet, Turbinella had never seen a mer with a tail as long as that!
Murex found his cheeks falling to a frown, bending like long since sunken metal that cannot hold the weight of the sea. “That is Abalone Moray. The Deep Waters are his home.”
“...someone... lives out there? I thought everyone in the kingdom lived behind us, in the city.”
“He is not of the kingdom. Not anymore, at least.”
“What do you mean, Murex?”
“He was banished fourteen years ago,” said Murex. “For trying to kill you, when you were just a small fry.”
Turbinella couldn’t believe it. She’d never heard such a tale before!
She demanded to know, “why? Why would he do such a thing?”
“He is sick,” said Murex. As both a guard and a shark, he knew the dangers that the water could bring. “And he believed that your death would save the ocean.”
If she believed for a moment it was true the sweet young thing would have given her life in an instant.
Turbinella asked, “save the ocean... from what?”
“A fever-dream fear,” answered Murex. “Come, Turbinella. We must go now, before you’re late for your lessons.”
All evening, Turbinella found herself unable to focus. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the strange mer at the far reaches of the kingdom. Even through dinner, Turbinella found herself unable to focus on the spread: smoked salmon, seaweed biscuits, and buttered bass nuggets. Something which did not go unoticed by her mother.
Queen Conch asked, “is something wrong, daughter?”
Turbinella, startled, shook her head. “No, mama. I’m just... very tired tonight. I think that I might retire to my chambers early, if that would be alright?”
Queen Conch and King Brittlestar exchanged worried looks. Their daughter was a growing mer, and always hungry.
King Brittlestar tried, “but it’s your favorite.”
Turbinella said, “and it’s very good, as it always is. Our chefs are second to none, I’m sure. But I’m so tired, I can barely lift my own hands, let alone properly enjoy my meal!”
Queen Conch asked, “are you getting sick?”
“No, mama. I’m not getting sick. I’m just tired,” insisted Turbinella in the politest tones. “Please, might I be excused?”
Again, the Queen and the King exchanged worried looks.
Finally, Queen Conch relented, “you may, Turbinella.”
Turbinella jolted out of her seat, but Queen Conch raised a hand to halt her. “But!”
Turbinella grew still. “But?”
“But,” repeated Queen Conch, very seriously. “Only if you promise to come find me if you begin to feel ill.”
Relief spread through Turbinella like a gentle wave lapping on the shore.
She said, “I promise, mama,” and then turned and left for her room.
The nursery had long been converted into chambers fit for a young princess. Turbinella had a double-shell bed, piled full of blankets and sheets and the softest sea-sponge pillows (though her parents had been most odd about those). She had a vanity that was piled full of ink based make-up and jewelry, gifts from the kingdom when she was just a babe, and a shelf full of tomes and books she had read many times over.
Outside her bedroom door, a guard was stationed, there to watch over her and make sure nothing happened. But also there to make sure that Turbinella didn’t do anything wrong. The latter seemed like somewhat of a pointless reason given her behaviour was more angelic than an angel fish (they can be fiery little fiends indeed!), yet it had not been too long since her parents had been teenagers. They knew the potential of sneaking out after hours and coming back in the early ones.
Unfortunately for her parents, Turbinella was still a small mer. She often sneaked out of her bedroom window, swimming out into the peaceful waters of the neighboring city square. That was something they hadn’t counted on when placing a guard at her door, but not her window.
Most of the time, that was as far as Turbinella went. She would sneak out to visit the catfish in the alleys, or explore the city without a guard trailing her every paddle.
Tonight, Turbinella had other plans.
She swam through the empty city streets, past shuttered windows and closed doors, and to the outer circle of the kingdom.
Turbinella hesitated at the edge of it just for a moment, and then she carried on even further than that. Slowly, the light of the city receded from view, and coral skeletons grew dense – exchanging brightly colored fish for plumes of anemone. The shadows stretched over the land, like fingers reaching for her. The coral here grows in thick forests. Shadows swim through them, strange creatures too hidden to really recognize.
Further and further from the city, Turbinella swam. She passed by moray eels that had formed their homes in rock formations, and a rather large black reef tip shark. Barracuda’s swam past her fast enough they were mere silver blurs in the dark water. Parrotfish watched from a particularly squat cluster of coral. It was all so unique, enchanting in it’s own way.
There were wrasse and groupers, butterfly fish and sparisoma. Many of these fish, she knew that she should be leery of. In fact, Turbinella knew that this whole stretch of the sea should scare her!
But it didn’t.
Turbinella was strangely calm as she swam through the various outcroppings of stone, the thick shadows, and the dips that led slowly ever deeper.
What was she looking for?
Honestly, Turbinella wasn’t sure what drew her out here. Guilt? Curiosity? Both, perhaps, or neither. Maybe she just wanted to see it. Maybe she was looking for the mer that her guard had spoken of.
What would she do if she found him?
Well, Turbinella didn’t know that either.
Ask him why, perhaps, he’d felt the need to try and kill a fry? Ask if he would do it again? Apologize, even, for being the reason that he’d been ousted from the kingdom, and forced to live out here, in the dangers of the deep?
There were many things she wanted to say and do. There were many things that she wanted to see and know
In the end, the choice was taken from her.
Turbinella was so busy looking that she didn’t actually see. From the shadows came a long, vicious eel!
It snapped out like a broken band, long and gray. Moray eels have very large mouths and rows of vicious teeth, quite capable of ripping apart even the most hardy opponents. The creature slammed into Turbinella, sending her flying through the water. She shouted, thrashing her trail to try and right herself. The eel wasted no time in snapping at her, teeth click clacking together with every missed bite.
“Get away from me!” Screamed Turbinella, but as all know, cries in the water don’t spread far.
She used the base of her tail to slap at the eel, but the sharp-toothed creature was unswayed. It shook its head and then made another grab at Turbinella. In all of her twisting and flailing, the young princess managed to back herself against a rock.
She stared at the eel, wide eyes meeting it’s glassy glare. “Please! Go away!”
The eel lunged again – and snapped its mouth shut just inches from Turbinella’s face!
“Enough,” said a voice, deep and rasping. The very same mer that Turbinella had been searching for was there, one hand curled around the tip of the eel’s tail.
The eel spun around snapping at Abalone, but he was too fast, too smart, and too strong. The sea-snake mer wrenched his arm back and threw the eel!
The eel went soaring over their heads and slammed into a stone with a crunch! It didn’t get back up. Instead it drifted down, staying in one place, ready to feed the ocean for days to come.
“By the Ocean,” breathed Turbinella who usually shunned any sort of blasphemy. She slumped down against the rocky outcropping, palms flat against the sea-dirt. “You saved me!”
“You should be more careful,” said Abalone. “The creatures out here don’t abide by your rules.”
Turbinella’s gaze fell on the eel. She couldn’t tell if it was dead or merely stunned, but either way, her heart went out to it. “It must have been very hungry, coming after something my size.”
Abalone snorted. “You are your father’s daughter.”
“What?” Turbinella turned wide eyes onto Abalone.
Without hesitation, he said, “go home, Turbinella.”
“You – you know who I am?”
“All the kingdom knows who you are.” And all of the kingdom did know who she was, yet none of them spoke to her in that tone. It dripped with derision, empty fangs full of venom.
“...but you aren’t of the kingdom. I... I’ve heard about you.”
Abalone narrowed his eyes. That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Suddenly, the mer was less than friendly. He reeled back, long tail swishing through the sand. It was almost mesmerizing to watch. None of the palace mer had a tail like that.
Abalone told her again, “go home. Don’t come back out here.”
“I want to learn about you,” said Turbinella. “Please! I want – I want to know how much truth is in the guard’s tale!”
But Abalone cared not for Turbinella’s protests. He turned and left, vanishing into the shadows of the wilds, leaving just as silently and suddenly as he’d arrived.
Turbinella called out, trying to go after him – but to no avail. She could not find the other mer.
Eventually, the young princess had no choice but to go back to the palace, and to sneak back into her room.
And though she made it back in plenty of time for sleeping, the young princess found that dreams did not come. No matter how much she twisted or turned, it was impossible to get comfortable. The sheets felt constricting. They wrapped around her tail fin and her arms. Her long hair twisted around her neck.
And through it all, Turbinella’s mind drifted back, back, back onto the strange mer known as Abalone Moray.
Perhaps she would ask her father about him tomorrow.
… Or perhaps not.
Somehow, Turbinella doubted that King Brittlestar would be pleased with her interest in the mer.
