The Little Mermaid

2 - Varian

A mischievous glint sparked in Varian's freckled face as he surveyed the moonlit castle courtyard. The familiar walls, usually a source of frustration, now presented an exciting obstacle course. Tonight, Varian wasn't sneaking out to test a new hair-growth potion on his pet raccoon, Rudiger (though that was always tempting). He had a mission – to witness the meteor shower with no pesky light pollution.

Queen Arianna had tucked him in with a kiss and a gentle reminder about "no night sailing," and King Frederic had delivered a well-meaning, but slightly dull, lecture on the dangers of bioluminescent jellyfish. Varian, however, clutched a secret fire in his heart, fueled by astronomical charts and whispered rumors of the spectacular meteor shower. He wouldn't let a few parental precautions clip his adventurous wings.

His first hurdle: the castle gates. They were imposing oaken beasts guarded by burly knights who doted on the young prince (a little too much in Varian's opinion). Tonight, however, dozing was their weakness. Varian, a master of silent movement thanks to years of "borrowing" forbidden ingredients from the royal kitchens, shimmied past them like a shadow.

Next came the moat. Now, the moat was a different story. It was home to Nigel, a grumpy crocodile rumoured to have a sweet tooth for pastries (a rumor Varian had strategically spread himself). But tonight, Varian had a plan B (and a plan C, just in case). He slung his trusty knapsack, bulging with sandwiches and a star chart, onto his back and sprinted towards the boathouse. He could almost hear Rudiger's excited chattering from inside.

The boathouse door creaked open with practiced ease (a loose hinge courtesy of one of Varian's "accidents"). Inside, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, sat "The Inspiration" – his rickety sailboat, lovingly patched and christened with a flourish by a younger, and slightly more optimistic, Varian. He tossed the knapsack into the hold, feeling a surge of pride at his meticulous planning. He wouldn't let a little darkness, or a grumpy crocodile, stop him from witnessing the celestial magic.

With a silent prayer to the stars (and a mental note to appease his parents with a particularly dazzling alchemical invention tomorrow), Varian pushed off from the boathouse. The cool night air whipped his teal-streaked hair, carrying with it the promise of adventure and a breathtaking light show.

Varian, a whirlwind of a teenager with skin the color of sun-kissed sand and eyes that mirrored the summer sky, clutched the railing of his rickety sailboat, the salty wind whipping his teal-streaked hair. Unlike Lashanie, who yearned for the surface world from below, Varian felt a constant tug towards the mysteries that lay beyond the familiar shores of Corona. Tonight, that mystery was a meteor shower, a celestial dance unobscured by the light pollution of the kingdom.

His parents, of course, had forbidden it. "After dark? On a rickety old boat you call 'The Inspiration'? Absolutely not, Varian!" Queen Arianna's voice, though laced with love, had held an unyielding firmness. King Frederic, ever the pragmatist, had simply muttered about rogue waves and bioluminescent nasties.

But Varian, a budding alchemist with an insatiable curiosity, couldn't resist the allure of the night sky. He'd snuck out after dark, a knapsack filled with sandwiches and his trusty notebook overflowing with alchemical theories, determined to witness the celestial ballet. The bobbing of the boat mimicked the nervous fluttering in his stomach. His parents' warnings echoed in his head, but the anticipation of the meteor shower outweighed his fear.

 As he sailed towards the open sea, a glint of movement caught his eye in the water. Could it be...? No, surely not... but there it was again, a shimmering form breaking the surface, moonlight glinting off what appeared to be... a tail?

Varian squinted, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The rocking of his little sailboat mimicked the nervous fluttering in his stomach. His parents' warnings echoed in his head, laced with the image of bioluminescent nasties lurking in the dark depths. But there it was again, a flicker of movement just beneath the surface of the water. It couldn't be real, could it?