Sprite (Annabelle's Story Part One)

by Leigh Michael

  “I don’t know, stop hitting me so I can think!” Another blow connected with my arm.

  “Are you going to be able to think during an attack? You need to learn how to use your affinity for protection.”

  “Just stop! This isn’t working.”

  “Come on, Annabelle. Use it!”

  STOP IT!

  Like before, a current flew from my hands and threw Adrian back five yards, smacking him into the ground. It was an impressive feat under water.

  “You did it!” he exclaimed as he jumped back up—unfazed from hitting the sand.

  I had, and this time, I felt more in control of it. I better focused it. Like with the hippocampus, my mind controlled the current.

  In both scenarios, I wanted them to stop. First, I wanted the hippocampus to stand still so I could easily get on his back. Then, I wanted Adrian to stop hitting me with that damn stick.

  “Go again,” I said. This time I welcomed Adrian’s advances.

  His first swing hit me dead on.

  Same with the second.

  And third.

  On his fourth swing, I concentrated on stopping the momentum of the stick. In a split second, a humming pulse built within me and traveled to my hands. From there, a jerk of my wrists released the current.

  By doing so, I created a force field that Adrian’s stick hit and bounced back from.

  Adrian was shocked. Natasha, too. Me, three.

  “I can’t believe it! Looks like you had control over that one.”

  “It kind of felt like it,” I said. Excitement poured from my voice. “Go again.”

  For another twenty minutes, it was my thoughts versus Adrian’s sparring skills. By the end, we were both exhausted: Adrian physically and me mentally.

  My sense of accomplishment was overwhelming. Sure, Adrian still managed to land some blows, but most of the time I deflected them away. I gotta admit, I loved this affinity.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  After Adrian and I parted ways with Natasha, we headed back to the palace for another meal of tasty king crab and to get cleaned up. I was happy to report that I wasn’t as filthy today as I was the past few days.

  YaYa greeted us in the foyer as soon as we walked in.

  Adrian couldn’t contain his excitement. “You won’t believe what Annabelle did today during training.”

  “What is that, my child?”

  Pride filled his voice. “Her water affinity… she learned to use it.”

  “So I have heard.”

  “You what?” he said, the excitement fading.

  “Well, of course. You thought I would let Annabelle train the past three days without keeping a watchful eye on her? This is very important and I wanted to make sure she was ready.”

  “She’s come a long way.”

  I felt I had as well.

  “Did you see her with the hippocampus?” he asked.

  “Annabelle, would you like to tell me about it?” she offered, giving me the opportunity to showcase my newfound skill.

  So, I told her about my attempts earlier in the morning. Basically, how they didn’t go so well.

  Then, after my success with sparring, Natasha and Adrian partnered up to practice and I returned my focus on the black hippocampus—the one that taunted me. Being able to wrangle him felt personal now and I simply couldn’t accept defeat.

  At first, I mimicked Natasha’s “six sense” approach, and then I quickly decided to do things my own way.

  With sparring, it was easier to control my thoughts and the current with the parrying stick right in front of me. I just thought normally. But the hippocampus was a greater distance away, forcing me to scream inside my head.

  During the first few attempts I overcompensated and sent too strong of a current, stopping him dead in his tracks. Of course, this worked and I held the hippocampus still until I successfully positioned myself on his back. However, one of the purposes of wrangling a hippocampus was to escape from those unnamed throes of danger. Stopping him completely wasn’t practical because, quite simply, starting to swim from a standstill took more effort.

  With a little more practice, I learned to ease up on the volume of my thoughts. Before I knew it, I slowed the hippocampus just enough to where he didn’t outswim me. Then in one fluid motion I launched myself onto his back and released my thoughts, allowing the hippocampus to accelerate forward.

  YaYa locked eyes with me after I finished telling my story. “I am pleased you are coming into your own. Ideally, I would prefer more than three days for you to train and prepare for your journey, that is, should you decide to help us. With the New Year approaching, we have little choice but to leave soon.”

  “Soon?”

  “Yes, my dear. The day after tomorrow.”

  “Oh, wow. Um, okay,” I stammered. That was a lot sooner than I’d expected to hear.

  Easing my tension, Adrian wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Natasha and I will take great care of her, YaYa.”

  “Natasha is a great warrior. I feel confident that she will do whatever possible to restore her family name. But Adrian, you will not be going on this journey.”

  “What? Of course I am.”

  “I am sorry, Adrian, but I cannot risk your safety a second time.”

  Each word came out like its own sentence. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “You must be reasonable. You are the Prince of Tritonis. The only one left to carry on the Triton bloodline. It was poor judgment of me to allow you to escort Annabelle to Tritonis.”

  “We were fine,” he insisted.

  “Yes, in the end, you both arrived in Tritonis safely, but that was after the Trackers attacked. You were both put in grave danger and I will not let that happen again. At times you were also careless with Annabelle, letting her fall behind you.”

  “This is ridiculous. I’ve been training to be a guide for the prophecy since I was a child. The fact that I’m the last of our bloodline is even more reason for me to go.”

  “Why is that?” YaYa said, her voice steady.

  “The Trackers stole my parents from me. They stole my sister from me. They’re the ones who are responsible for cutting our bloodline short. It is my responsibility, as the Prince of Tritonis, to return Triton’s shell so that our kind can continue.”

  “Adrianus, this is not some mission fueled by a vendetta. This is not revenge. The future of not only sprites, but also mankind is at stake.”

  “You don’t think I know that,” he growled, his voice low.

  “This conversation is over for the time being,” she said definitively. “Tomorrow, the Elders of Tritonis will meet to finalize our strategy. You and Annabelle will attend and I will provide my decision on your involvement in this journey.”

  She faced me, then continued, “Hopefully then, Annabelle, you will have made your decision if whether you will accept your fate as the ‘Second Alpha.’”

  With that, she turned and swam toward the left wing.

  Accept my fate…

  That short three-word phrase rattled in my head, especially after everything that’d happened to me in the past few days. I had no clue what my fate was.

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Adrian said softly to me, interrupting my thoughts.

  “No, it’s okay. I just feel really bad. I see how hard you’ve been working.”

  “Whatever. It doesn’t really matter what she says. I’m going if she likes it or not.”

  “But Adrian, she’s the Queen.”

  “Nah, not to me. To me she’s just my grandmother. Even if she sometimes forgets that.”

  I knew he didn’t mean this. I saw through YaYa’s rough exterior. I knew she looked at Adrian with pride and devotion. He was just upset. But really, I couldn’t blame him.

  Selfishly, I didn’t want to do this journey without him. In fact, I didn’t think I could.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As always, the corals woke before I knew it. After Adrian came
to get me, we went down to meet YaYa and the Elders of Tritonis.

  Adrian’s anxiety weighed heavily on his demeanor. I hoped, no, prayed, YaYa would allow him to come. I wondered who else would set out on this mission, well besides Natasha. I was thankful I’d have a familiar face with me—if I chose to go…

  Ten heads turned in unison as we rounded the corner into the room. My hand blindly found the wall to steady myself.

  All of the mermen looked the same, with long beards and gray wavy hair. They sat around a long marble table in a room where large rectangular portraits covered the walls.

  YaYa greeted us, remaining in her seat. “There you both are. We were just speaking about you, Annabelle.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. Everyone still stared.

  “Will you have a seat?” she said.

  From the head of the table she gestured toward two chairs on either side of her. I barely had time to lower my hands onto the table before her attention landed on me like a heavy blanket on a hot summer day. “First things first, have you made a decision as of yet?”

  I’d spent much of the night consumed in my thoughts about whether I’d accept this mission or not. I don’t know why, but my duty to help the sprites pulled powerfully on my decision. I hated to turn my back on people in need. My decision still wavered though. I hadn’t wrapped my head around everything yet.

  “Is it okay if I take more time to think? I mean, I can still help strategize, but I just, I dunno, I guess I need time.”

  “Very well,” YaYa replied in an even voice. Her attention shifted to her other side where Adrian sat. I was shocked she let me off the hook so easily after the initial intensity of her gaze. “Adrianus, I thought long and hard after our conversation last night.”

  I swore the sound of a pin drop could’ve been heard as we waited for her next words.

  “When you were a boy, I held you back from a very important mission. I am no fool and can appreciate the only reasoning being your once young age. Now, I am afraid the outcome would be much different. As much as it pains me, I must be realistic about this.

  “Adrianus, it will be your decision whether you go on this mission. I can only hope that I will not one day regret these words.”

  Adrian didn’t waste a single moment. “I choose to go.” His voice sounded as fierce as a warrior’s.

  Upon his response, a mixed expression crossed YaYa’s face. I knew Adrian’s bravery impressed yet terrified her. She’d already lost her husband, her son, her daughter-in-law, and her granddaughter. I was sure that it was an unbearable thought she may also lose her grandson.

  The contortion of her face lasted only a moment before her usual stoic features took over. After all, she was the Queen and had responsibilities that went beyond a concerned grandmother. “Well, then I suppose we must begin.”

  For the next few hours, we discussed different strategies, tactics, and so forth. Of course, these conversations had gone on for the months prior, but the Elders didn’t want to craft a final plan until today.

  For all we knew, a Tracker could’ve located the trapdoor into Tritonis and lived here without detection. Guards held their post twenty-four hours a day at the entrance, but Trackers had snuck into Tritonis in the past. Fortunately, all those who were caught currently wasted away in the dungeons.

  If a plan leaked the whole mission would be over before it started. Plus, the Trackers most likely devised their own plan as well. The worst part… we couldn’t be sure of their trickeries.

  Still, it didn’t stop us from examining different scenarios. The Elders tirelessly spoke about how the Trackers may ambush us along the way to supervise as I opened the chest. Another idea was to simply wait for the chest to be opened before ambushing us. And the third… make us believe we’d successfully pulled off our plan, and then capture me as bait to turn over the coins.

  To get into the fourth, fifth, sixth, and all the other possible ways things could go wrong wasn’t worth it. Just the thought turned my stomach upside down.

  Of course, this all assumed I’d have the ability to open the chest. My thoughts from earlier flooded back, and now that my water affinity matured, the notion that perhaps I was important to this mission lurked on the outskirts of my mind. However, I still wasn’t convinced that I was the only one who could do it.

  Right when my mind threatened to explode from various travel routes, diagrams, and attack formations, we landed on our final plan.

  The straightforward nature of it surprised me but I didn’t complain. The less moving parts our plan had, the fewer things that could go wrong.

  Meaning, the less I’d mess up.

  To keep the plan simple, the Elders assigned only a few sprites to our mission. Just Adrian, Natasha, Clemente, Shamus, and possibly myself would set off together.

  Out of the five of us, two groups were formed. Adrian and I’d stick together. Then, Natasha, Clemente, and Shamus would create a semi-circle around us about a quarter of a mile away, which was well outside of our bubble of light. That way, if we needed them, they’d be at our sides in under a minute. If not, we wouldn’t attract attention as a large group.

  We expected the trip to the chest itself to be fast. It was located in the Atlantic Ocean in between Portugal and the United States, off the coast of the Graciosa Island. What made it easy was the fact that the same jet stream we took from Atlantic City to Tritonis brought us rather close to the island. From there, only a matter of minutes separated us from the sunken chest.

  We debated not taking the jet stream as far and swimming a greater distance, but we eventually decided against it. It’d be just as dangerous. Plus, with this approach, we’d preserve our much-needed energy.

  The plan consisted of moving within fifty yards of the chest. Then, Natasha and Shamus would slowly approach it. The idea was to trick the Trackers into believing that Natasha was me. Shamus would shield the chest from the view of any lurking Trackers while Natasha pretended to open it. The only thing left to do at that point was to sit back and wait to see if an attack was imminent.

  Naturally, I hoped we’d beat the Trackers there and, after the coast was clear, I’d retrieve the coins. If all went according to plan, we’d crack open the chest before dinner.

  Unfortunately, the chances of this were slim to none. So, if an ambush occurred, Adrian and I were told to slip in unnoticed to grab the coins.

  Like I said, the plan was straightforward. Still, there were parts I disliked. I hated the idea of Natasha as bait. She wasn’t even in the room to weigh in on her role as a decoy.

  It was an argument I presented⎯one that was shot down just as quickly. I knew it was a bad argument too. Natasha jumped at any chance to restore her family name.

  I guess we’d have to wait to see how things played out. If everything went seamlessly, we’d find the flower, plant it at the trapdoor at the Lake of Elfin, and retrieve the shell from beneath the island.

  Sounded easy, right?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Once all the pieces were in place, YaYa insisted that we clear our heads and try to relax. We’d be leaving at the first sign of light. She even suggested we stop by the theater to catch tonight’s performance. I couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at her insistence. Apparently, the sprites of Tritonis would perform The Second Beginning.

  As the title suggested, it was a play based on the prophecy of ABA.

  I learned that it wasn’t just a play that the Triton’s held tonight. Every year around this time they’d put it on. It became somewhat of a tradition.

  Before today, I never had a reason to think about it, but so many holidays, events, and activities are shaped around the history of a group of people. In the United States alone, there’re days like Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July. Worldwide, activities like Easter egg hunts and trick or treating are performed.

  In Tritonis, the prophecy influenced not only activities, like The Second Beginning, but professions too.

  Generation after generation
of Guardians searched for the sunken chest. After finding it, these roles of exploration became those of protection of the chest. Then there were some who scouted out the “Second Alpha.”

  As soon as the play began, I learned that the prophecy also shaped New Year’s Day. But for the sprites, it was a day of mourning. Every year, it acted as a reminder that the benevolent sprites still hadn’t retrieved Triton’s shell.

  To show this, the merfolk draped in black moved slowly across the stage: both eerie and sad.

  Then in a snap, the merfolk tore off their black costumes exposing the silly, floral outfits that the encantado wore in their human forms.

  This part was somewhat comical. The exaggeration of the actors showed them as they peeked around corners and hid behind props on stage, trying to avoid detection.

  In the center of it all, a teenage boy went about his business—none the wiser.

  Suddenly, the “encantado” showed emotions of excitement, waving their arms and making eye contact with one another. Clearly, they believed this boy to be the “Second Alpha.”

  The next scene depicted one “encantado” and the boy hanging out together in the midst of a conversation speckled with outbursts of silent laughter. In that moment, it dawned on me that the play had no sound or words.

  The “encantado” then distanced himself from the boy and waved for him to follow. Together they moved away from the grassy side of the stage and towards the other. There he grabbed the boy and pushed him down against the sand.

  The boy struggled and grabbed his throat.

  Then, ready for this? When the boy realized he breathed the water, his face lit up with happiness.

  I recalled how this portion of the play went a tad bit different in real life. I wasn’t lured peacefully to the sea. I didn’t jump for joy when I realized I breathed water. In fact, I had little time to react before the Trackers started their game of tug-of-war with me. Then it was off to the races to safety.

  I experienced a more dramatic introduction to this ability. Whereas here, the boy and the encantado, that a real encantado now played instead of a brightly clothed merfolk, casually swam across the stage side by side. They looked chummy as ever when the curtain fell, marking the intermission.