Finally, the female inhabitants of the palace, including the Queen and the newly-acquired nanny, confirmed that it was Time. Together they descended to the depths of the birthing chamber. Hours they waited, as the egg would occasionally quiver, then fall asleep again. Finally, a soft rumble emerged from the gamete and it began to quake violently. Huge tears appeared in the thick, pulsing membrane, and sticky ooze excreted from the rapidly deflating ovum. Finally, a small hard blob flew from its cell, and landed unceremoniously upon the floor. As the egg’s remnants evaporated in a sickly steam, all eyes watched the little knot of matter, as it lay like a dead thing.
The Sea King began to feel alarm but it was unnecessary, for after a few moments, the blob began to rise with the current and struggle in the water. From the hard grey pod, a pearly, gleaming tail emerged and weakly kicked against the water. A little white fist broke through the husk, and along with it, all the other parts that make up a merchild’s body. Discarding its final prison, the King’s eldest daughter flew upon the Queen’s full breasts, and fed like a ravenous, dying creature.
For two years, the child was nourished by her mother, until her fins grew strong and her teeth brittle enough to tear through flesh. By that time, the second princess had been born, and their mother was pregnant with another egg. For six years, the noble queen produced daughters, all precisely one year apart, and the King was pleased, because he had selected her upon the promise of her fertility. After these exhausting years, the Queen’s beauty was slowly sucked out of her and siphoned into the bodies of her daughters. Her breasts were empty and sagging, her womb stiff as cardboard.
As mentioned earlier, merfolk live for three hundred years precisely, if they are not hunted and slaughtered. The Sea King’s ancestors had been such successful negotiators that the entire ocean respected the law and rule of merfolk, and large predators refrained from attacking or consuming any citizens. In fact, sea creatures tried to avoid the merfolk as much as possible – for to them, the species was too much human for their liking, and far too little fish. There was something nasty about the merfolk, they decided. Even though they appreciated that the merpeople did not meddle in the natural order of things, they felt uneasy in their territory, and they suspected it had something to do with the things that lived under the gorge.
Being a peaceful race, and a race that did not practice violence unless killing for food, the merfolk had one major predator: themselves. As intelligent beings, they were mainly cautious when surfacing, and did not tempt fate by drawing human attention. Merfolk were unsure how old their race was, and they assumed they had existed from the very origins of earth, as all species do. But the sad truth was that in the short generations since they were created, sea creatures began to avoid merfolk increasingly as the race evolved to stranger and stranger heights. Large shoals of fish no longer passed over the populated parts of the reef, choosing instead the route over the wastelands. Octopus and ray also avoided these areas, because the great pale orbs of light that were erected all over the kingdom stung their eyes. These days, food was difficult to find, and prices became higher, causing the poor to kill cold-bloodedly for items to trade for their food.
It came as a great surprise to the kingdom when, after the birth of the sixth royal princess, the Queen disappeared. It was certain she had not been murdered, as anyone who had seen her lately knew she wasn’t worth a red herring. The princesses told themselves that she had gone to the land, and would return when the time was right. But the Sea King knew she was dead.
When mermaids die, they are not buried. Their flesh does not loosen from their bones and slowly decay. Instead, they instantly dissolve and become sea-foam, riding on the crust of the waves. In the rare occurrence that they die on land, their bodies become the mist that settles on the ocean. The Sea King did not know how she died, nor did he trouble his mind with theories or possibilities, as that was not his way.
He was a good King, and a good father, and it did not concern him that he produced no male lineage, for in that world, no gender was valued higher than the other. As any parent in the animal kingdom, he was fiercely protective of his own. But even the animal kingdom has glitches.
Merfolk mate for life, and love-making was not for any other purpose than to produce offspring. This is why the Sea King was perturbed when he discovered hot desires were directed toward a particular female he had once encountered, but had never seen again. There were rumours about this woman, and because merfolk do not question information, they were widely believed to be truthful. She was known to be a witch, a conjurer of powerful spells, but spells for freaks and outcasts. The wishes she granted were against nature. Those desperate enough to seek her help were never found again, and so it was assumed she practiced cannibalism. There was only one rumour that was completely accurate – that she was the most beautiful creature in the kingdom.
She lived beyond the borders of the kingdom, so deep below that all was in darkness, save for the light of the skeletal torch-fish, who sifted through the murky currents for bits of stray plankton. It was this place that the larger predators refused to frequent, and no sea-plant wished to thrive. It was believed that the witch was self-sustaining, for no nourishment was to be found in this part of the ocean.
The King recalled the last time he had seen the witch, and the memory was so vivid and fresh in his mind, it was like it was yesterday. In truth, the King had last seen her one hundred years ago, when she had sent him a message asking him to call upon her.
Now merfolk did not possess human pride, this was bred out of them in the earliest days. Neither did disloyalty, jealousy or guile exist, and if a King is asked to visit any subject of his realm, the King has no reason not to do so. As he and his guardians carefully descended to the deepest pit of the sea, he felt no anticipation for the coming event, and no sense of wonder or curiosity for the person in question. Therefore, it was a great surprise to him that suddenly, in the oily blackness, three very white and ghostly females appeared. They appeared to be hovering in the still, silent water and stared at him with their bewitching eyes, and when they opened their mouths, their words chanted in unison. Bewitching, musical unison.
“Be warned o King who enters here
The earth and water part
For the one who watches near
Will grasp your beatless heart.”
The King did not understand them, for he was distracted by their sudden appearance, and his ears were not accustomed to the melody of such voices. They turned away, as if made of one body, and holding three glowing lanterns between them, began to lead him to their mistress.
Illuminated from the weak light of the lanterns, the King studied his new companions. They were white, whiter even than the complexions of his daughters, but this whiteness spread to every inch of their bodies, like a disease. The only exception was their hair, which was the palest shade of yellow, yet moving with a life force that did not emanate from the creatures. With a dull sense of horror, the King realised that entwined in that strange, colourless hair were the tentacles of great warrior jellyfish, twitching like bodies in the final throws of death, sending reluctant, dying sparks into the water; halos crowning spectres. And all over their bodies, the bleak whiteness seemed to have forgotten an identical patch on each of their lower backs, a section about the size of a coin, which was an ugly dark brown, and several black hairs sprouted from it.