Vanessa [A Poor Unfortunate Soul]

34. History Repeating

Vanessa transformed in the water without struggle, this seemed to take Morgana aback a bit. She left the dress behind on the sand, and wore only the thin white bra that was under it. Perhaps she was shocked at the power her little niece had after all this apparent time. Even she, the witch herself had difficulty with her two human legs spreading more and morphing into eight tentacles. The woman had to down an obviously bitter concoction for the transformation to enact itself. 

"So where are we headed?" Vanessa asked, wading in the water. 

"To Atlantica." Morgana said and with one swish from her appendages she was already a few paces in front of Vanessa. "Try to keep up sweetie."

She was a matter of fact woman, but a sarcastic one at that. The cooling sensation of the ocean didn't seem to phase her anymore, it ran over Vanessa's skin like light winds on land. Her senses were muted. Still existent, just numb. 

"What are we doing here?" Vanessa asked when they reached the underwater, frozen entrance of Morgana's lair.

"How can you expect to help me, if you don't know the right spell." She replied with a cackle. "Or anyone for that matter."

"And just what is it, that I'm helping you with?" Vanessa asked and followed the witch. Morgana didn't answer until they reached the flooded bi level section, propped herself up out of the water and onto the ice.

 "Turning a little mermaid human, so she can attend school on land." She said and pulled a book off her frozen shelf. Vanessa hoisted herself up and onto the ice with minimal effort, her heavy tail only aided her now. Kicking the water it acted as a propeller. 

"Interesting." She said. "Why?"

"Because her family is paying me handsomely." Said the witch, licking her teeth. 

"Wouldn't it be me?" Vanessa asked crossing her arms.

"Why you?" Morgana asked and strutted around the ice with her long tentacles.

"Its my magic we're using." She said with a wicked grin.

Morgana turned to face her like Vanessa were a naughty child who spoke out of line, and should be punished. 

"Touche." She said, surprisingly. "That's a French word. It means"

"I know what it means." Vanessa said, cutting her off with her head tilted back and eyes closed in disgust.

Flipping through the pages Morgana folded over them and rested the dusty book onto the cold ice. Dampening its cover, the ice seemed to infuse it with leftover moistness. Vanessa was careful when she picked it up and ran her own wet fingers over the old text.

"Its in greek." Vanessa said and shot a look at Morgana. "I can't read it."

"Your mother could." Morgana said and stood tall. Crossing her arms, she looked more like a statue than a squidly-woman. That word stung her. Vanessa held her hand in the air, stretching her palm and fingers out in disgust. 

"That dead woman." She spoke through her teeth, with daggers in her eyes. "Is not and never was my mother."

"Perhaps you should reconsider your words." Morgana said and took a seat on her ridiculously over-sized seashell that she called a throne. "Ursula gave you life."

"And now." Vanessa said and threw her hand down onto the ice. "Ursula gives me indigestion."

Morgana didn't respond to that. At least, she didn't in words. She simply scoffed, shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. 

"What's your point anyhow?" Vanessa asked and resumed trying to decipher the language. 

"As it just so happens" Morgana said and stood again. She really couldn't decide if sitting or strutting around with eight appendages was better. "Ursula was an immensely powerful woman, the bitch that she was."