Talen

A Teacher's Voice

Note: Transferred in full from ff.net, this fic was actually based off of a dream I had one night...

I live in a moment where a lifetime passes by. Amid the slashing pain thrust between my ribs, I see it all in a moment. And I weep.

It was always merpeople that ruled the seas. Most of them were not even aware of the fact. They just flipped their tails and swam their merry way through clean, clear waters and the sparkling currents of Atlantis. Their children casually plucked anemones for their hair or exchanged shells gathered from the ground, giggling with delight.

I would watch them from the shadows. I was small enough then to hide in the shadows. My arms were thin as twigs, and my tentacles barely held me up. I watched families lay out picnics on the sands of the ocean floor and gorge themselves until they lay back, patting their rounded bellies in satisfaction. My own bloated with hunger, I clutched it, begging the pain to stop. When I could bear it no more, I turned and slipped off through the cracks and shadows to the murky waters of the cave-riddled depths, where my sister and mother waited.

We lived off of the scraps and refuse left behind, the leftovers of the lavish palace feasts when we were lucky. Ours was a kind not even granted the dignity of a name by the merpeople. They would name the crab, the oyster, and the bottom-feeder before they would name us. On seeing us, they would say, "It's one of those things," before turning away in disgust.

I remember the day I met a merperson for the first time. It was a young boy, following a lionfish and tweaking its fins. I watched him, curious. Didn't he know the poison that ran in a lionfish's fins? He laughed, tugging and twisting on them as the fist flicked its fins irritably. The boy's laughter slowed, and I could see faint trails of red around his hands. He shook his head, as if trying to clear it of something. His swimming pattern faltered, and he started to drop lower. He drifted to the bottom, raising a small cloud of mud, and curled up, shivering and hugging his tail like a newborn.

Cautiously, I drifted toward him. His eyes were screwed shut, probably from the nausea. It would pass within the hour, but given the way he'd been playing with the fish he probably didn't know that. Glancing around, I checked to see if anyone was watching. No one was, so I pulled the boy into one of our caves, and laid him out on a rock shelf.

For the next hour I watched over him as he moaned, shivered, and cried. I studied the smooth scales of his tail and the supple fins sprouting from the end, so different from my own rubbery, suckered tentacles. I could not count his ribs as I could my own, nor could I make out his collarbone, but I was sure he had one.

When he finally opened his eyes, he looked straight at me. His mouth curled fearfully as he said, "Oh you're one of those things... are you going to eat me?"

I wanted to strike him, but I didn't have the strength. Instead, I said simply, "No, you were sick. I let you rest in my cave."

"I don't get sick, I never get sick." The boy boasted.

"You did and you will again if you play with lionfish," I returned.

"What do you know about fish? You're just a thing. I'm gonna be king someday." He grinned.

In spite of myself, I laughed. "You're the prince? Yeah right."

"I am!" He said defensively. "I just don't have my crown right now."

"A prince wouldn't be swimming out here, he would stay in Atlantis."

"I'm bored in Atlantis," he whined. "I know every current and cove there, I wanted to find a new place. Besides, nobody plays with me there." He lit up. "Will you play with me?"