Mermaid Macabre(Old Version)

Part I, Chapter I

   The Ugliest Mermaid of Them All

   Long ago, there was a mermaid as ghastly as can be. Her hair was a dark seaweed green, almost as black as ink. Her skin was a ghostly white, that had an olive tint to it. And her tail was an ugly, swampy green. And finally, her eyes were a mesmerizing black.
   Cast out by the beautiful, almost goddess-like mermaids of the isle of the mermaids. “Macabre! The ugly, ghastly Macabre! The ugliest mermaid of them all!” they called her, and so her name was Macabre.
   She swam near the rocky coast of the kingdom of Morlore instead. Every day and night she’d stare at the palace entranced by its royal colors, though she did not understand the significance of them all. She loved all the colors of the kingdom; she thought they were all so pretty. Now and again the fish crows that hung around her would give her gifts of the most elegant fabrics from dresses worn by the women of the kingdom. And with those scraps of fabrics, she managed to make a dress, which she was proud of.
        One night when the night filled with stars, Macabre sat on one of the sandy, gray rocks of the coast. Once she saw a shooting star pass by that night, a wishful whisper came from her porcelain lips.
    The next morning a strange feeling came over her, it was her tail, it felt…different. She looked that at her tail, and with a fright, she shrieked. The curious fish crows cocked their heads and peered at her. Odd appendages were where her tail was supposed to be.
   Then she felt a cool sensation on her chest. An emerald amulet hung from her pale neck. She showed the necklace to fish crows. Cocking their heads to this angle and that, one even nipped at the chain. Macabre figured they had not come to any verdict. She clutched onto the rock that the fish crows were perched on. Some hopped and others flew back. She looked up at the palace, then down at her new appendages. She thought back to all the times she saw humans did that thing that did with their appendages. She studied the movement in her head for a moment then attempted it herself. One, and then the other. One, and then the other. One, and then the—She stumbled and fell. Her left elbow and both knees were scraped and bleeding, but she kept going. This time she tried walking in a circle. The fish crows cawed after her successful attempt. After a good amount of practice, Macabre decided to finally go to the palace like she always dreamed of.
   Still going slow she took one step after the other. One of the fish crows cawed. He pulled out her makeshift dress from the rocks she hid it under. Her eyes lit up at the idea and she took the dress and put it on. Feeling a way she had never in her life felt before she smiled. She went and stroked some of the fish crows’ backs, and kissed a few of them. She waved to them goodbye.
            Once in the capital city of Liem, Macabre got all kinds of stares and comments, too amazed by the architecture she didn’t notice. Suddenly, a young man surrounded by women was walking towards her. The man was average height, face just the right shape. He had glimmering gold hair and a dazzling smile. Crystal blue eyes that any woman would desire. He wore a blue military uniform. The man stopped as he came upon Macabre. He looked at her quizzically up and down. He smirked, then giggled, then laughed, and then the women joined in too.
            “Nice dress!” one woman said.
            “Don’t tell her that, it’s horrid!”
            “Look at her skin! What’re you? A ghost?”
        “Ugh! You smell like a fishery!”
            She went up to one of the women and grabbed her dress and gazed at it with sparkling eyes. The women quickly snatched it away. The man grabbed Macabre by her left forearm and examined her more closely.
            “You are ghastly,” he remarked, intrigued.
            “Don’t touch her!” one woman said. “You might catch fleas!”
            All the women laughed. The man noticed Macabre’s amulet. “Where did you get this? I bet you stole it didn’t you? I’ll let the authorities handle you. See what hole you crawled out of!”
            He dragged her by her arm, her feet mostly dragging. Once she realized she was at the palace she ran out of his arms. Macabre’s feet twisted and she fell on a woman. The woman was older and plumper. Her fat cheeks were ruddy and her nose was the snub kind. Her thin brown hair was sloppily tied up in a bun that was concealed by a bandana. Her dress was a dull grayish blue color. Her apron was dingy.
            “Get off of me!” she cried.
            The man again took her by her forearm and pulled her off the woman. The woman got up and dusted off her gown.
            “Lucy,” the man began, “take her to the servant chambers.”
She bowed. “Yes, Prince Allen. Prince Allen, your brother has returned from his expedition.”
   “Has he now? I’d like to know what he’d think about our little friend. She kind of looks like him.”
   “Come with me,” Lucy said. Macabre stared blankly at Lucy. Lucy grumbled and took her hand.
   Lucy led Macabre to her room. Macabre looked at every inch of the room filled with beds. She watched as Lucy plopped down on the couch against the wall next to the door. Curious, Macabre mimicked her sitting down on the bed.
    “So,” Lucy began, “what’s your name?”
    Macabre didn’t answer.
    “I’m going to put some tea on...would you like some?”
    Again, a word didn’t leave her lips. 
    “What happened?” Lucy asked, noticing Macabre’s elbow and knees.
    “Don’t worry, I’ll fix you up.”

    “I’m telling you, Edward! Her skin is like snow! I think she might have a disease!”
    Allen and Edward walked down the large hall, their feet sending echoes. Edward held his drum major hat under his arm. 
    “Please, Allen, enough with your daft tales. You shouldn't even be here anyway, you should be in Walland with father not here being the womanizer you are! You should be in Walland helping father make peace with their king and queen! How do you expect to be an exemplary king?” Edward sighed. 
    “Are you still going on about that? You know you are to be king.”
    “I know, but I feel that you will make a better king that I could ever be. You’re charismatic, dashing, a people person...and I’m not.”
    “I would not and you know it! You’re smart and...you like read...and--”
 “Just forget about it!” Edward grumbled. “I’m going to my room to sleep.”
    “Please, Edward, just come see her!”
Edward grumbled again. “Fine! But you have to leave me alone for the rest of the day!”
    Allen and Edward opened the door to the female servants’ quarters. In there Lucy was putting bandages around Macabre’s knees. Macabre and Edward immediately locked eyes.
   Edward was tall, a bit lanky, and pale. His slick back hair was squid ink black just like the circles around his sunken, green eyes. His cheeks were hollow and his nose was the Greek kind. His thin lips had a dark hue, almost purple.
     “Now, isn’t that better?” Lucy asked, finishing.
   “Look at her!” Allen whispered in Edward's ear. “She's so uncanny!”
Edward didn't say anything. 
    “Lucy, did she tell you anything about her?”
   Lucy shook her head. “I think she might be mute, sir.”
   Allen looked at Macabre again up and down. “Yes, I think that might be the case...Lucy, get her washed up and an actual frock, that pleases the eyes.”
    Lucy nodded. Macabre stared at Edward and Edward stared back. Finally, Edward looked away and sighed. “Why must you waste my time like this, Allen?” Edward said storming out of the room.
   “It seems as though Prince Edward is in one of his black moods again, wouldn’t you say, Prince Allen?”
    “Yes, it does. And ever since the war he's been having them more and more frequently. But I suppose Edward has always been the moody type.”
    Lucy and another servant, a young girl, in her mid-teens, named Mary Ann scrubbed Macabre head to toe in a trough. Lucy and Mary Ann discussed gossip and rumors as Macabre sat silently.
   “I love your necklace,” Lucy remarked. “Where did you find it?”
    She didn't answer.
   Lucy sighed. “We think she might be mute,” she whispered to Mary Ann.
   “Can she hear?”
   “I don’t know. She hasn’t shown any signs.”
   “Ma...Macabre…” Macabre suddenly said in a soft, croaky voice.
   They looked at each other then at her, then at each other again.
   “You can talk!”
   “But what does Macabre mean?”
    “...Macabre! Macabre! The ugliest mermaid of them all!” she chanted.
  “I think that’s her name--Macabre.”
   “No wonder,” Mary Ann said.