Turbinella spoke to no one of her journey into the deep.
She covered the scrapes on her back and her tail with layers of gauzy fabric, letting the brilliant betta red hues help cover the marks. At first, she thought that would be the end of it and that her questions would go forever unanswered.
But, that very evening, the guards came with a report: Abalone Moray is circling the kingdom. She overheard it and hung her head, scared that should she meet her father’s gaze he would see the truth in her eyes.
Each and every day after, the guards came in with the same report: Abalone Moray is circling the kingdom, and he’s getting closer.
King Brittlestar and Queen Conch spent much time talking about it, locked away in their private chambers. Often, those discussions led to arguments. Turbinella tried to listen in on them, but the door to her parents chamber was too heavy. She could only guess that it was about Abalone, but she wasn’t entirely certain why.
One day, she asked Murex, “why will no one tell me anything?”
Murex gave a tilted smile. “We tell you many things, princess. What slight are you speaking of?”
“Abalone Moray, and the fact he draws closer to our lands. I’m young, but I’m not blind. I can see how it is pushing my parents to separate stances. But, I do not know why.”
Murex looked away, holding his eyes on a vase of corals as long as he could.
Finally, he said, “it’s not my place to tell you, princess.”
“As I said! No one will tell me anything,” bemoaned Turbinella. She slouched against the table where she had been studying, giving a dramatic sigh.
Murex had never been able to stand the sight of the princess unhappy. He could only put up with her sorrow for so long before he broke, admitting, “the Queen wishes him gone, for she fears he might try to hurt you again. The King does not wish to take such dramatic matters, for he knew Abalone long before his sickness soured his mind, and pities the man.”
“So it’s me that is the cause,” said Turbinella. It wasn’t a question.
Still, Murex told her, “no, princess. It’s the sickness of the ocean that is the cause.”
But Turbinella didn’t agree. In her mind, the only reason for all this madness was herself.
One evening, after a long and loud argument between the King and the Queen, in which even the door did little to muffle their shouting, the King stormed into his throne room. He grabbed the first guard that he could find, announcing, “go! Go gather your forces! I want Abalone Moray in my halls, now!”
For a brief time, Turbinella felt hope. She thought that her parents had decided to come together, and offer aid to the clearly hurting mer. It soon became obvious that was not the case, for when Abalone was brought into the throne room, he was not a free mer being offered aid.
He was a captive, shoved into a metal cage which the humans had lost long ago. The slithering tail barely fit within the bars, bulging out in spots, dented and dotted with his age. He grabbed at the bars, but there was no way that he could pull them apart.
King Brittlestar demanded to know, “why are you circling my kingdom, Abalone Moray? Have you forgotten your banishment? Have you forgotten that I have already been lenient with you once? Do you really wish to push me that far? To see if I will raise my hand against you?”
“You won’t,” hissed Abalone. “Time and again, you’ve proven that! That you’re weak!”
Queen Conch swam forward, so she was just in front of the cage. “He might not be willing to do it, Abalone, but I hold no such fear of striking out. I forgave you once, when you harmed my daughter. I will not allow you to do it again!”
“He hasn’t done anything,” blurted Turbinella.
All eyes turned to her.
Turbinella continued, “he has done nothing but swim! You cannot keep him in that horrible thing! Father! Mother! Please!”
King Brittlestar looked away.
Shortly, Queen Conch did, as well.
“Please,” begged Turbinella. “He hasn’t done anything wrong! And that’s cruel! It’s cruel to keep him in something like that!”
King Brittlestar asked, “my love?”
Queen Conch took in a deep breath. Then she asked, “Murex, please take my daughter to her room.”
“Yes, my queen.” Murex bowed to the queen, then turned to Turbinella. He took her by the arm, saying, “come, princess.”
Turbinella tried to wrench herself from him, but Murex was too strong. He easily guided her from the room.
Just before the door shut, the Queen could be heard saying, “and Murex? Make sure she stays there.”
Turbinella was tossed into her room, feeling very much like a prisoner herself. She banged on the door, first arguing with Murex, then pleading with him, then cursing him. Through it all, Murex stayed silent just outside of the bedroom door.
Finally, when it became clear that Turbinella would not be getting out through her door, she swam to her window and leveraged it open.
Some could argue that Turbinella was being childish. This was a man so lost in madness, he had once tried to kill a fry!
Some could argue that she was only acting out of anger, being called the princess but kept under lock and key, with no agency over her own actions!
Some could even say it was misplaced curiosity, for she wanted answers, and she wanted a chance to talk to Abalone Moray herself.
But no matter the reason, and no matter what thoughts might be had about it, the fact of the matter was the same: Princess Turbinella was leaving, and she would not be back until she found a way to get Abalone Moray out of that cage.
Turbinella swam farther and faster than she had ever gone before. She was in desperate search of something that could help. Anything that could help! The humans often left things to sink to their land, mostly hooks and sharp glass, but occasionally things that they could use.
In the distance, there was a strange sight floating through the waters. It was as though someone had taken a jellyfish and stretched it out thin; as though someone had removed all the colors from the tail of a betta fish.
“I wonder,” she said, to herself. “Is that something that could help?”
She reached out towards it, fingers just barely brushing over the strange material. She misjudged how large it was, however, and with a swish of the water, the strange thing unfolded – and unfolded – and unfolded.
Startled by the sheer size of it, Turbinella let go. She splashed her tail to propel herself away from the strange fabric, only for it to wrap itself around her fin instead!
“Let me go!” Shouting, Turbinella ripped and tore at the fabric, where it was wrapped around her fin. But the more the young princess struggled, the more she became entangled in the awful thing. First, her tail, wrapped up tighter than tight. Then her torso, and her arms! And then it was wrapped around her face, and the young princess found that she could not breathe!
Turbinella began to struggle anew, desperate to break free of her bonds! It squeaked as her finger slid across it, not ripping or tearing! When she breathed in it entered her mouth, sealing around her in an invisible layer. Her eyes darted wildly. This jellyfish or whatever it was, it had no stingers, no stomach, no brain. How was she to argue with the beast? She thrust, tugged, arched and bent.
But it clung to her too tightly, too thoroughly.
This is not part of the sea, she thought, but it was a distant, fleeting thought. This did not come from the mer or the fish. What a travesty. I hope that strange mer will still be alright.
The young princess thrashed – and she twisted – and she writhed – and she grew still: perfectly packaged in the translucent trap.
