CH 2 — The Forbidden Surface
1086 Words
Lyriana did not descend into the deep so much as she fled into it. The moment the human prince drifted out of sight, carried by the guiding current she had summoned, she dove beneath the storm-darkened surface, her heart pounding with a confusion she could not give voice to. The weight of the ocean welcomed her, pressing cool and familiar against her skin. Schools of startled fish darted aside as she streaked past them, her tail rippling with frantic intensity.
What have I done?
The question spiraled through her as she plunged deeper.
Saving a human was forbidden punishable by exile, imprisonment, or worse. And yet, in the moment she had seen him sinking, fear and instinct had seized her. Not fear for herself but for him. His eyes had been filled with a quiet resignation she could not bear.
Her heart tightened.
She had touched him. She had sung to him.
That alone was treason.
Far below, the murky gray slowly shifted into vibrant blues and violets. Bioluminescent coral formations rose like towers, illuminating the path back to the kingdom. The water grew warmer; the currents gentler. The familiar silhouette of Aqualith the mer-kingdom carved into the massive spine of an ancient leviathan materialized through the haze.
Crystal spires jutted from its sides, glowing faintly with the magic woven into them. Bridges of coral bone connected domes and dwellings shaped like seashells the size of houses. Hundreds of merfolk moved through the city in elegant streams, their tails shimmering like ribbons in the lantern-lit water.
Normally, the sight soothed her. Today, it filled her with dread.
As she approached the gates, two guards lifted their spears, barring her path.
“Princess Lyriana.” The taller guard bowed his head. “Your father summons you immediately.”
Her stomach twisted. “Already?”
“He has… felt a disturbance in the Deep Currents,” the guard said carefully, not meeting her eyes.
Of course he had. Her father, King Nerion, could sense every major shift in ocean magic. Her Song had been powerful too powerful. He must have felt it ripple through the wards of the kingdom like a crack in glass.
Lyriana forced her fins to remain still. “Very well.”
The guards lowered their spears, allowing her to pass. She swam through the gates, weaving through crowds and spiraling schools of lanternfish thrumming with light. Murmurs followed her whispers about the storm, about strange magic pulsing miles above, about the king’s rising anger. She tried to ignore them.
The throne chamber loomed ahead, flanked by pillars carved into the likeness of serpents. As she entered, the water chilled noticeably. Her father stood before the great pearl throne, his long tail dark blue with veins of gold, his hair drifting around him like strands of midnight. His expression was carved from stone.
“Lyriana.” His voice reverberated through the chamber, deep enough to stir the currents. “Come forward.”
She obeyed, though each stroke felt heavier than the last.
When she stopped before him, King Nerion’s eyes sharp as honed obsidian fixed on her with a piercing scrutiny that made her wish she could disappear into the reef.
“You left the kingdom’s boundaries today,” he said.
Lyriana kept her gaze steady. “Yes, Father.”
“You ventured to the brink of the Forbidden Surface.”
“Yes.”
“And you used the ancient Song.”
A quiet hush settled around them. Several advisors floated nearby, their expressions grave.
Lyriana’s voice wavered despite her attempt at composure. “Someone was drowning. I couldn’t”
“Someone,” Nerion interrupted, “or something?”
Lyriana swallowed. “A human.”
A ripple of shock spread through the advisors like a tremor. King Nerion’s jaw hardened. His aura pulsed, dimming the chamber’s lights.
“A human,” he repeated, the word heavy with disapproval. “You would endanger yourself endanger us for a creature of the land?”
“He was drowning,” she said softly. “He would have died.”
“Good,” Nerion snapped. “Let him drown. Their kind brings nothing but destruction. They burn the surface with war. They slaughter creatures of the deep with metal hooks and tangled nets. And when they look at us, they see nothing but stories to exploit.”
Lyriana flinched. She had heard these words before, from tutors, guards, even her own siblings. Yet the memory of the prince’s eyes terrified yet strangely calm rose unbidden.
“He wasn’t like that,” she said before she could stop herself.
Silence echoed louder than any whale-song.
One of the advisors, Elder Mareth, drifted forward, his white hair swirling like mist. “Your Majesty, the princess has violated our oldest law. The Song is not to be used for humans. It binds magic to them. It leaves traces.”
Traces. Lyriana’s heart stuttered. If a trace remained in the prince even unknowingly it could lead others to her. Or worse, it could reveal the kingdom’s magic to the surface world.
King Nerion’s voice dropped to a dangerous calm. “Lyriana. Did you bind him?”
“I…” Her breath caught. “I only meant to save him. Not bind him.”
“But you might have,” Mareth pressed. “Even a single note of the Song can forge a connection. It must be severed.”
Lyriana’s pulse quickened. “No. I won’t harm him.”
“You already have,” her father said coldly. “You have jeopardized our kingdom’s secrecy.”
She looked up sharply. “What will you do?”
Nerion exchanged a look with Mareth.
“You will remain within Aqualith until I determine whether your Song has created a lasting bond,” he declared. “You are forbidden from approaching the Surface again. Guards will ensure this.”
Lyriana felt the world tilt. “Father”
“You will obey,” he commanded, his voice echoing like a crashing wave.
Lyriana’s throat tightened, but she bowed her head. “As you wish.”
King Nerion turned away, dismissing her as though she were nothing more than a ripple in the water.
But as the guards escorted her from the chamber, one truth burned in her chest stronger than any command:
She could still feel him.
The human.
The prince.
The bond if that’s what it was pulsed faintly like a hidden melody.
And no matter what her father forbade, she knew this was only the beginning.
- Writer
