Page 26 of Sea's Secret

“How dare you!” he boomed, swimming closer to me, his face only inches from mine, and his glare full of so much hatred that it made me afraid. His melody, too, was darker–not light and happy.

Did I just cause that? What is wrong with me? Why do I have to question things and be this way?

“Father, I am sorry. I did not want to cause any trouble. I love the ocean, I do–I do not want to leave it. I just wanted to know.”

“All you need to know is what I tell you. Be silent!” he shouted.

“I’m sorry, Father,” I repeated, and I flinched, doubting I had done the right thing by speaking my thoughts at all. I was not sure what I believed anymore, but even so, seeing my perfect and solid life dissolving and my father’s faith in me wavering—that made me ache inside.

What if I was being led astray? What if my heart and soul were being swept away in a current where I was never meant to swim? But what if that current led me to waters where I truly belonged? What if that current, when explored, could save all the merpeople who needed the Marren Lights just to survive? What if I could make my father understand I was not going against our ways, only trying to help.

My rebellion would not stop, even though I really was sorry that I had caused my father anxiety, I thought, Perhaps, if I get everything out now, I will end my traitorous thoughts, and come to trust my father again. I couldn’t let it go, so I continued in my traitorous line of reasoning.

“I am sorry, Father, but I cannot help but wonder–what if the reason our lights are fading is a sign from the Ancients that we are to go above the waves? What if that is what they want?”

“Meria–” he spat in another warning. I could tell his patience was waning. “You will forget all this nonsense; we are merpeople. That is what the Creator wanted us to be.”

“But our people, they are getting sick; some of the mermaids, those furthest from the lights, have become sirens, vanishing into the forbidden seas, and the merman in those darkened sectors have shriveled and died, all because our lights are dimming. The lights are flickering—I cannot stop being concerned. The Ancients have not come.”

“Don’t you think I know all that! I am sick about it. The Ancients will help us, though; we must be patient.”

“I am trying. I believe in the Ancients, Father. What if our people lose all of these beautiful lights, and what if all of our souls’ melodies become lost–or worse; what if the entire race of merpeople become corrupted, just like it has happened to those mer who lived in the depths?”

It was something not often spoken about, but it was true that with the loss of the Marren Lights, many merpeople, especially those simple mer who lived, beyond the main city, were becoming ill. At least, the ill mermen only died once they lost their souls. Soulless mermaids, on the other hand, were far worse off. Some had already transformed into very dark beings as a result of the lack of light, and they had become sirens. Long ago, it was something we thought was only a scary tale to tell our children to encourage them to behave, but we recently had discovered the existence of those heart-eating sirens. They mutated from us, for when mermaids were without light, they became dark, and their souls’ melodies were no more. A dark magic took over, corrupting them, and they quickly swam far away from all light, dwelling in extreme depths within the Misted Seas' very cool waters. It was said that the sirens’ soulless songs lured men to the depths of the sea.

“Do not speak of sirens, Meria. I sense a fear inside of you that is making you act out. You do not need to think or worry about that; that is my job as King. You only must obey.”

“Okay–I am sorry father.”

I wanted to help, but how could I help when my help wasn’t wanted, when my opinions were not respected, when the only contribution accepted from me to help my people was “silence”? It was clear that my father was not going to change his mind, or even listen to my mind.

“You will be silent about this, daughter! You will not speak of such things ever again. I forbid it!” he bellowed.

I moved back, afraid of his temper. I’d seen him upset plenty of times before—but having it aimed at me was horrifying. I should have never spoken. I always regretted speaking my mind. “I am sorry Father,” I said, bowing my head. Even though I apologized, I knew that my traitorous heart would not allow me to stop.

“We know the truth,” Father said, shaking his head. “Meria, please, I am begging you to be silent on this matter. It is forbidden. I do not wish to banish you.”

“Banish?” I said, surprised.

“You leave me with very few options if you do not obey me.”

My heart ached.

My father–he would do such a thing–to me?

“Why would Edmar tell you this, anyway? I told him in confidence.”

“Edmar–he has always been a constant help to me–with you.”

“What does that mean?” I whispered. My heart felt ready to crack at the possibility of what my father was then telling me.

“He has been keeping an eye on you for me. You are usually very obedient, and even shy and quiet. Something I always admired. However, your mother, she was just the same. Then, all at once, she became bold about her traitorous beliefs. I was concerned about you because you were so similar to your mother.”

He has, for a long time, believed that I was going to betray my people? My heart ached even worse, as if I had been struck by a stingray.

My father’s faith in me was gone—and my faith in him was nearly gone as well.

“I—I want to know more about my mother.”

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