by C. S. Wilde
The soldiers forced the crowd in the circle forward, forming a line headed to the forbidden zone. A whirlpool followed the queue, thrashing above the prisoners’ heads and preventing them from escaping.
Waterbending was a basic skill for every waterbreaker, but the soldiers’ abilities clearly outweighed those of the civilians about to meet their end.
The group pushed back against the soldiers, but these were fishermen and builders, teachers and weavers with no experience in battle.
Queen Ariella raised her silver triton and everyone silenced. Even the doomed stopped fighting.
“May Poseidon find you on the day of Regneerik, brothers and sisters. May he call you to his side for your bravery!” She lowered the triton.
Belinda Tiderider’s mother headed the line. Mera knew her from the times she had lunch at her friend’s home, or the nights they’d spent studying for tests.
Salina was as beautiful as her daughter. They shared the same sandy blond hair and pinkish hue to their hides, the same bright purple irises.
Belinda’s mother had always been kind to Mera. This was what she envied the most about Belinda; not her developed bosom, not the attention she got from every young male in school, but the fact she had a caring, loving mother who cheered for her at school sport events, who supported her through everything she did. A mother who hugged her daughter and told her she loved her.
A bitter taste flooded Mera’s mouth, and she searched frantically for her best friend, hoping, praying she wasn’t in the doomed crowd with Salina.
Luckily, she wasn’t. She did, however, sit on one of the pews below, forced to watch.
Belinda was trembling. She grasped the rails of the pews so hard that tiny cracks spread on the limestone underneath her fingertips.
Mera’s heart beat in her temples as she saw Salina step into the forbidden zone.
Instead of trying to swim away or put up any fight, she turned around and faced the soldiers. She then faced the queen herself, in one last act of defiance.
Mera wondered why those Atlanteans had been chosen. Were they a nuisance to her mother? Did they belong to the weakened resistance that defied Ariella’s rule?
Salina Tiderider kept staring at her mother as purple and black rust began eating away at her skin, her glare calling Ariella the forbidden name whispered in the streets of Atlantea.
Mad Queen.
She did not scream, even as the rust ate away her arms and legs. She merely stared.
This time at Mera.
And in that bitter stare, Mera saw herself turning into Mother. She saw a murderer and a monster, stopping at nothing to get the bloodbath her predecessor craved. A mad sovereign, aching for the approval her mother would never give.
After all, the queen tried to shape Mera to her image. It was why she made her watch as her own people died, made her suffer until all the fight in her subdued.
As the rust ate away Salina’s fierce, judging eyes, Mera understood. It had always been about survival. Either hers or Mother’s.
The thought terrified her.
Mera was just a merling. She wasn’t strong or fast and she wasn’t ready to die—but neither were those Atlanteans down below.
The atrium went silent like the dead. Silent like Salina Tiderider. Even Belinda held back the sounds of her grief, her hands clasped over her mouth as her shoulders shook.
The silence settled over Mera like a cape, smothering her fear, leaving no room in her mind for anything but cold determination.
She swam forward as the queen ordered the next civilian’s doom.
“What are you doing, weakling?” Mother snapped at her with gritted teeth. “Go back to your seat.”
“I defy you,” she spoke quietly. “In the name of Poseidon, god of the seas, I defy you.”
“You use your father’s name in vain.” That mad, furious glare that turned an otherwise pretty waterbreaker into a monster, took over her mother’s face.
“He’s not my father,” she spat. “And you’re a liar.”
If Poseidon was truly her father, he would’ve taken Mera from this miserable life a long time ago.
In one quick move, the queen grabbed the rusted sword attached to her war corals, pressing it against Mera’s throat. “Defy me again, merling,” she leaned closer, “and you will not live another day.”
“I challenge you!” Mera screamed, her voice captured by the device on Mother’s mouth, booming so loudly that not just the audience and the soldiers, but all of Atlantea must’ve heard her.
Shocked gasps rang from everywhere around them.
As mad as her mother had become, she knew the rules. The queen might be able to enforce much of her will, such as ordering her own people to a senseless death, but when one of her own bloodline challenged her, she was obligated to accept. If she killed Mera right now, defenseless and without a chance to fight, then Atlanteans were bound to do the same to her. Mera guessed many in this atrium needed the excuse.
Belinda especially.
Yes, the law protected Mera. A royal challenge demanded a battle, but she hoped she’d angered the queen enough for her to make a move. If Mother killed Mera right now, she’d give Atlanteans a reason to tear her apart.
Let Mera’s death serve a purpose.
The crowd around them stood still and deadly silent, certainly expecting Mera’s end.
She was ready.
“I volunteer!” Professor Currenter swam forward, despair in his eyes, his hands balled into fists. “I volunteer to take the princess’ place!”
Mera skipped a breath as panic took over. He was the only good thing in her life. If he died in her place… Mera couldn’t fathom what she would do.
Thankfully, her mother was swift. “Denied. The blood challenge shall not be extended.”
“She’s just a youngling, my queen,” the professor begged. “Have mercy!”
Ariella clicked her tongue, watching him with disgust. “So soft… Smart, valuable,” she said as if justifying his existence, “but so terribly soft.”
She turned to Mera. “The challenge is accepted.”
The queen removed the device from the corner of her mouth and lowered her sword. “You should’ve flung yourself into that barrier, weakling,” she whispered. “You would have been more useful to me.”
Chapter 19
Still in the past…
* * *
Professor Currenter fixed the back straps of Mera’s armor.
Her battle clothes were made of shark leather, with blue and white corals sewn to it that protected her chest, stomach, waist, and knees. Underneath, she wore a navy bodysuit, with scales that glinted against the light from the neon corals peppering the professor’s cave.
Mera watched herself in the standing mirror, which leaned on the wall close to the round window. The professor had fixed her hair in a high braid, the way most female soldiers wore it.
The mirror was reminiscent of his time on the surface, for he’d been a youngling when the war broke, hundreds of years ago. Nowadays, plenty of Atlantean households had mirrors. It was easy to forge them by channeling the heat of the lava pits into refined sand—thanks to her mother’s technology.
The dark stone walls of the professor’s place were uneven and unpolished, a nod to how Atlanteans used to live back in the day.
Most households now had smooth curved walls of the brightest colors, and many held special advancements to help with everyday tasks, such as the repurposed rainbow-neon corals with intensified glow which Mother named lamps.
Funny that the apparatus resembled the broken lamps found in shipwrecks.
The queen loved her precious technology, but in the end, it was nothing more than a copy from the world above. A yearning for things no merfolk could have.
Through the window, Mera observed the neon town ahead, its lights dimmed by faint sunlight coming from the surface. The light hit a silver spot that glinted in the distance.
Atlantea’s castle. Beautiful on t
he outside, wretched within.
Mera hated the gloomy and empty stone corridors, the silent servants, her endless beatings and echoing screams.
It would all end today.
The castle might be a beacon of the modernizing era the mad queen pushed forward, the apex of her rule, which had given her many supporters, but those halls were as rotten and ugly as Ariella herself.
Professor Currenter tugged the straps tighter, and Mera turned back to the mirror. She looked small and scrawny against her armor.
Most Atlanteans only joined the military after their coming of age. The armors available hadn’t been made to protect a child, and even though Professor Currenter had adjusted as much as he could, her battle wear was still enormous. And heavy.
Moving would be a problem, not that being fast could save her anyway.
Nothing could.
“You can’t win by using strength,” the professor advised as he clipped the straps, making it hard for Mera to breathe. Today he wore yellow fighting corals over his black scaled clothing, his white hair trapped in a tight bun.
In putting on his own battle wear, he honored her.
After all, this was Mera’s funeral.
“Use the water,” he added quietly, avoiding eye contact. “Fight like we’ve practiced so many times. And use the macabre. I know I told you to control it, but let it consume you, just this once.”
Had he lost his mind?
“Using the macabre in a royal challenge is forbidden,” she reminded him. “The punishment is death.”
“We’ll cross that valley when we get to it,” he assured. “First, you must survive. No matter what, Mera.”
Resignedly, she shook her head. “Mother is stronger in every way. I’m not leaving that arena alive.”
He didn’t deny it.
“The queen calls you daughter of Poseidon,” he stated, adjusting the back of her armor, pulling and knotting the straps, trying to adapt it to her frail body as much as he could. “The gods may not be real, but I’ve come to think she calls you that because she favors you.”
Mera chortled, but the professor didn’t seem amused.
“I hope that in her madness, in thinking you’re the daughter of a god, she might show you mercy,” he added quietly.
“You know my mother. Being merciful isn’t one of her qualities.”
Mera’s life was pure torture, thanks to queen Ariella. Not only that, but Mother was now slaughtering her own people, left and right. Yet, none of the grownups dared to go against her. None dared to say “Enough.”
It wasn’t fair that a merling had to do it.
Not that it mattered.
Mera had a terrible, agonizing existence. Unloved by her own mother, tortured and beaten through most of her days, she would finally find peace. Dying today was the only mercy the queen would grant her.
“If you win,” the professor said, turning her around to face him. “Your uncle Barrimond will take the throne until you are of age. He’s a good Atlantean, and not like your other uncles. He’s strong enough to lead and keep them in place.”
Uncle Barrimond had protected Mera from a beating once, standing between her and the queen. He would sneak sweets to Mera when her mother wasn’t paying attention, and he also told her stories of brave warriors who fought for Atlantea and Poseidon.
“With pride and honor, they fought for glory,” he used to say.
“Your uncle will give you the childhood you’ve always deserved, my little fry.” The professor didn’t actually believe this, Mera found fear and doubt in his face. His amber eyes glistened as he checked her armor, the water around them saltier than usual. “You are a flower born from a wasteland. The most precious—” His voice broke, and he lowered his head. “The most precious treasure in the seven seas. I am so proud of you.”
Inhaling deeply, he clicked the last front straps and wiggled the armor, making sure it would hold in place. He then pulled Mera close in a tight hug, and put a hand over her head. They stayed that way for a long while, her little fingers digging against his back armor.
Mera would never meet her real father, but it didn’t matter. Professor Currenter had done an extraordinary job in his place.
“Be strong, my brave princess.” His breaths hitched. “You are too good for this world.”
“Don’t forget me, Professor.” She held her tears. “I’ll be meeting my brothers and sisters today.”
Mera pulled away, grabbing the silver triton that rested against the stone wall on the right corner. It felt awfully heavy, but it was the smallest weapon they could find.
Time to face her end.
With pride. With honor…
Like those warriors in Uncle Barrimond’s stories.
The arena was crowded. Rows upon rows circled around her, surrounding Mera in a dark tower that reached for the surface. A fiery gloom came from below, where a circling river of lava warmed the waters.
All it took was one steep dive and she’d melt into oblivion.
The atrium facing the forbidden zone had been an altar to sacrifice. This arena, with its ancient and uneven stone blocks, was an altar to battle, and Mera, merely a youngling, was here pretending to be a warrior.
Mother faced her as they both floated in the center of the space.
The queen wore starfish-red fighting corals with Orca leather straps. For the first time, Mera noticed how sharp the throngs of the royal triton were; how much bulkier the weapon seemed compared to hers.
The triton’s spotless silver matched her mother’s crown; the crown Mera would never get to wear. The queen had replaced its sapphire beads with rubies the color of blood, which mirrored her battle corals.
Mera held her triton so hard that her light gray knuckles went utterly white.
The crowd watched them, many with fear, many with excitement, some with horror, and others in disbelief.
The whole of Atlantea must be there today.
“You cannot kill me, weakling,” Mother assured lowly. “Retract your challenge, and I might forgive you.”
“You’re not one to forgive,” Mera countered, surprised at her own courage.
The queen smirked. “Your death will be meaningless.”
“Perhaps, but I hope it will serve a purpose.”
Fury raged inside Ariella’s beady eyes. “And what purpose would that be?”
Gripping her triton harder, Mera pointed it at her. “Your end.”
Mother cocked her head left, completely untouched by the threat. “In this world, the weak always die. There’s no purpose in their passing, as you’ll soon find out.”
Mera swallowed dry, glancing at the thousands of waterbreakers around her. A sour tang went down her throat as she asked herself why they didn’t revolt. Why couldn’t they put an end to the mad queen’s reign?
Why did it have to be Mera floating there, without an army?
Without anyone.
“Mera Wavestorm!” someone yelled from the crowd, and her gaze flickered over the masses to find Belinda Tiderider.
Her friend gave her an approving nod, then closed her fist, thumping it against her chest. Most of her colleagues from school followed the gesture. So did Professor Currenter. Others in the audience joined them, though not many.
Not most.
Mera feared for her friends’ lives. If the queen’s wrath hit them… Her mother had already narrowed her eyes at them as if keeping track of their faces, but she couldn’t remember them all.
She would remember Belinda, though, and Professor Currenter.
A horn sounded from above, a deep tune that reverberated into Mera’s bones.
She bellowed a battle cry that birthed from deep within her soul, scraping the walls of her throat. Mera boosted forward, possessed by utter despair.
If her mother survived, the only two people she cared for would die.
The queen’s face was full of surprise when her daughter nailed a punch on her left temple, sending her spinning away.
&nbs
p; Mera didn’t wait for her to recover; she couldn’t afford to. She willed water currents forward, engulfing Ariella in a raging maelstrom.
“Silly games,” her cruel voice boomed from inside the bubbling storm.
Mera felt her mother’s magic pushing against hers, taking over the current. With one swing of her arm, the maelstrom vanished into thin water, revealing a warrior with a wicked grin, her bloodthirsty focus on her own child.
The queen flung her triton at her. Mera dodged it at the last minute, but one of the throngs ripped her shark-straps, releasing the coral over her stomach. The piece of armor plummeted toward the lava pit in a zig-zag.
“This ends today, weakling.” Her mother’s hands moved, and water rushed the triton back to her.
She jolted toward Mera, who managed to block the first attack with her frail weapon, the throngs of her triton jamming against her mother’s.
Mera looped over the queen and got a free path to her back. She kicked Ariella’s spine, but Mother was faster and swiveled to the right. Grabbing Mera’s ankle, she pulled her closer, then punched her unprotected stomach.
Mera bent over in pain as Ariella threw her triton upward. The queen joined both hands and smashed Mera’s temple so hard, everything went dark for a second.
The arena spun around and Mera felt herself falling toward the fiery pit. She was still grasping her triton—the metal burned against her skin, so did the water.
The pain jolted Mera awake. Water boosted her up at her command, taking her higher until she was back in the battle space, facing her mother.
Mera could taste her own blood puffing around her and dispersing into the water.
“You should have burned, sweet Me-ra,” Mother hissed, tasting the two syllables on her tongue, looking every bit the monster that she was.
“Some call you mad queen!” Mera yelled for everyone to hear. “They’re right!”
Ariella snorted, but spotted the danger in her words. “Am I mad for bringing light to our city, laser guns to our army? For building homes that defy the harsh currents of the sea?” she asked the crowd. “Am I mad for wanting the future? For one day, taking us back to land?”
