The Mermaid Prophecy (On Hiatus)

Chapter 7

Arsulu

My vision blurs and I sway before ramming up against the clammy wall. I hunch over and slide down it's side. My hand hovers of the knife, the slightest touch shoots pain through my side.

This is possibly the worst time to forget basic healing lessons but no matter how hard I try to sift through my fuzzy thoughts, I cannot remember what to do.

Do I leave it? Do I take it out?

Making probably the wrong decision, I take several quick and shallow breaths before holding my side with one hand and with the other ripping the knife out.

Everything goes white. I shake my head to try and clear it, to focus. I feel my blood spilling out of my wound and between my fingers. Yep, definitely the wrong choice.

I let myself fall over onto the ground. Crawling through the dirt and grime on the ground, I eventually reach the cobblestones and my satchel still in the middle of the road. My eyes flutter shut but I force them back open.

This is NOT how I'm going to die. Screw that stupid dream.

Searching my satchel, I smile when I find the vile full of crystal powder. Well, at least I think I do. I can't quite feel anything besides the pain emanating from my torso.

I crush the vile and pant through the incantation for healing. It's a chant I know all too well but it is also one that is long-winded. Longer-winded than my current shallow breaths will allow.

The powder glows and dusts around my body, searching and finding my wound. Like a spear, the dust clumps together and stabs through me where the knife once was. I bite into my lower lip drawing even more blood.

Tears fall down my cheeks until all of the dust has disappeared inside the wound. I fall over onto the cobblestones and lay just there.

Unable to move, I notice a few things. My damp hair sticks to my forehead. My breath slowly returns. Humans pass by me or step over me without a second thought, most without even an acknowledgement that I'm here in the first place.

Eventually, the crystal powder has healed enough damage that I can sit up but I don't. I want to believe that they aren't as barbaric as my brother believes them to be, even after all I've seen tonight. Even after watching the slaughter of our pets, or after the near defiling of a thirteen year old girl in an alleyway.

Fourteen, my mind reminds me.

I want to believe that there has to be a least one human that will stop by and check on me. That they wouldn't just leave a little girl with torn clothes lying on the ground.

But no one stops, no one asks. Even the children running around before bed make a point of avoiding me on the street as they play.

How cruel these humans are.

When the town square finally quiets down into the wee hours of the morning, I get up and limp back to the sea. By the time I make it, the sun peeks its head out over the ocean.

Opening my satchel, I hear the crackling pieces of the mirror falling further into my bag. Proteus will be furious. Debating and then realizing there really is no debate, I pull fresh seaweed from the water and wrap it around the pieces of the mirror that I could find.

An incantation passes my lips and after some popping sounds I unwrap the seaweed to see the mirror is mostly whole.

At least I should be able to go home.

Interesting how the notion of being home has never been so comforting to me before. But as I think about my favorite brother, I know that this little trip to 'live it up' has been possibly the stupidest thing I've ever insisted on. And I can't wait to hear Triton tell me so.