5
Nerina
Thalassia, The Veil
The currents pulsed with nervous energy, the water vibrating with tension that mirrored the storm inside me. The ocean churned—wild, unpredictable—it must have sensed my unrest too. Swirling tides tugged at my fins, their chaotic rhythm echoing the uncertainty twisting through my thoughts.
Each ripple against my skin felt like a whispered question from the sea itself, daring me to leap into the unknown—to decide, to move, to act. I hadn’t planned to make this choice so soon, but the Oracle’s words left little room to hesitate. The answers I craved weren’t here.
I’d have to leave quickly, slipping away before my mother or the Tidekeepers noticed. They’d never let me go. Their vigilance was unmatched, and the thought of their wrath sent a shiver through me. Staying in Thalassia was no longer an option.
Yet there was so much to love about it. I remembered drifting through golden kelp forests where beams of sunlight filtered down, painting everything in rippling gold. Maleia’s laughter as we raced through coral tunnels. The soft glow of moonlight catching the palace spires. Moments when I almost forgot I didn’t belong.
Thalassia was the only place I’ve ever known, even if it had never truly been mine. The endless expanse of reefs. The cool touch of the sea against my skin. The taste of salt and starlight in the water. A paradise.
But a golden cage is still a cage. The Veil didn’t feel like protection anymore. It felt like a hand held just shy of my throat.
From the whispers about my crescent mark to the careful avoidance whenever I asked about old legends—or myself—it was always there: the proof that I was different. The cryptic smiles. The way people looked at me for a moment too long.
Even among peers, a boundary. An invisible line they wouldn’t cross, as though my presence was both curiosity and burden.
The ceremonies—meticulously planned, flawlessly performed—felt less like unity and more like spectacle. The glances exchanged during rituals, heavy with expectation, had become a language I understood too well. They wanted obedience. Reverence. A willingness to accept tradition without question.
My power was meant to be contained. Controlled. Never explored beyond their carefully drawn lines.
Each ceremony felt like a test. A quiet demand that I fill a role I never agreed to play. Guardian. Weapon. Or merely a symbol of something they feared but refused to name.
The longer I lingered, the stronger the pull became—something greater, calling me beyond the boundaries that confined me. Beyond the Veil was my only path forward, no matter the risk.
Even if it kills me—at least I’ll have tried.
The only thing worse than not knowing where I belonged was knowing where I didn’t.
A smirk tugged at my lips despite the fear. The Oracle’s voice echoed in my mind—every truth you take will take something back.If that was the price, I would pay it. How could I ignore the call, knowing the truth might finally be within reach—even if it shattered everything I thought I knew?
Her warning surfaced again, colder than the water:What waits beyond the Veil will not save you. But it will answer you.
It lodged deep and refused to loosen. Not a comfort. Not a promise. A direction that felt like truth in my bones. If not here… then where? Land, sea, sky—somewhere in between?
Whatever I was meant to find would never be uncovered in Thalassia’s sanctuaries or rituals. It was out there, past the Veil, waiting to be claimed—if I was brave enough to take it.
The pull toward the unknown was unbearable.
Inaction pressed against my chest like judgment—almost as heavy as my mother’s.
I swam in tight circles, body moving on instinct as my mind churned.No one crosses the Veil.Nobody. The warning was carved into every merfolk tale I’d ever heard. It wasn’t just a barrier; it was a force—alive, aware—punishing anyone who dared to challenge it.
I wondered if it could sense me now, its power stirring like a predator waiting for prey. Did it know I would try? Did it relish the thought of my failure?
But how could I stay, knowing the truth I sought was somewhere beyond it? The Oracle’s message had unlocked a desperation I hadn’t known was possible.
My crescent mark tingled—a constant reminder of power I didn’t fully understand. It surfaced in small, unbidden ways: a faint glow when I was upset, an uncanny sense for currents no one else noticed, the way sea creatures lingered near me longer than they should. Sometimes it answered the moon, warming beneath certain phases.
Fleeting. Almost trivial.
Except it never felt trivial to me.
And the Tidekeepers—talking of balance, of what might beupset—had drilled fear deep into my bones. They wrapped warnings in doctrine, shaped caution into obedience.
