“ S ire?” My bodyguard’s voice pierced my solitude.

“Enter,” I commanded.

“Bourne, a messenger from the other Royals arrived.” Ahtu entered the meeting hall chamber first, his motions swift.

Behind him, the small messenger, a tiny, young shrimp-like creature mixed with delicate tentacles, followed in Ahtu’s wake.

Two bulbous, telescoping eyes peeked from behind Ahtu’s robe.

“Speak, messenger,” I demanded.

A young brineling of indeterminate gender emerged once Ahtu’s wake calmed.

“My sincerest apologies.” It pulled an object I couldn’t identify from the ragged edges of its simple seaweed tunic and raised it up toward its mouth with a spindly tentacle.

The creature’s eyes, large and round for its body, bore into me with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

I’d seen that look on many creatures before, my own subjects included.

From the microscopic box around its neck, the brineling’s tinny voice filled the hall.

“Bourne, ruler of the Nonmore Chasm, your presence is required, not requested, at a meeting on the surface with a group of potential settlers on our planet. I repeat, you are required to attend.”

“Absolute madness!” I bellowed.

“How dare they assume they have the authority to order me around? Off to the trenches with this!” My words echoed in the meeting hall.

I threw the shell with such force against the cavernous wall it shattered into countless pieces.

The brineling’s skin, a mottled grey which matched the dark stones of the sea floor, blanched at my outburst.

It scurried against the wall of the ancient meeting hall, blending in with the bioluminescent ink which coated the walls.

The ink narrated the countless decisions made over the eons of our people’s history.

“Sire, please understand the gravity of the situation!” the messenger’s voice squeaked into the amplifier.

Its thin tentacles quivered with anxiety, no doubt from my reputation.

The motion sent clouds of sediment from the bottom, shrouding the tiny ambassador in foggy dust.

It clamped its mouth shut, but the corners of its lips twitched, as if it had more to say, yet was afraid to speak.

“Apologies.” My skin flashed bright blue for a few heartbeats, outwardly displaying shame at my behavior.

Still agitated, my tentacles swirled and churned.

How bold of the others to assume I would arrive for the meeting with land-walkers and assume my place with the others.

A second surge of rage rose under my skin, and I fought to control my hidden shame, bulky legs, which I kept tucked away in my tentacles.

Of their own accord, my tentacles, each thick as giant kelp, slapped the ground in a rhythmic show of displeasure.

The messenger brineling took a tentative step forward, extended a quivering limb to retrieve the message which had fallen in its haste to escape my outburst.

It collected the pieces of the scattered shell from the rocky bottom.

I took a deep, calming inhale of the nutrients in the water, and allowed my anger to dissipate as the surrounding current settled.

“I understand, messenger,” I said, my tone softer now.

“I will attend this meeting with the land-walkers and the other royals of Sanos. We must present a united front against whatever threatens our waters. Fetch my ceremonial armor,” I ordered Ahtu.

“Sire, we do not know for certain that the land-walkers wish us harm,” Ahtu said.

“I know enough. They walk the land.” I dismissed Ahtu’s huff of disbelief with a wave of my hand.

“Bourne, you know the prophecy as well as I,” Ahtu said.

“Prophecy?” the shrill voice of the messenger asked.

“It is of no consequence. Return to the others and let them know I will join them for the meeting.”

The brineling’s skin returned to its original color, a sigh of relief escaping its pursed lips.

It tucked the amplifier into a pouch, bowed once, and darted out of the chamber into the murky depths, moving swiftly through the water.

Ahtu joined me as I headed toward my chamber, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Bourne, what if this is the catalyst?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Nonmore Chasm is not a place for a land-walker.”

“As if it is a natural place for us.” Ahtu’s voice held a hint of sadness.

“It is for the best. We are abominations. Half-breeds. We result from forbidden love.”

“We should not hide in the darkness. Nothing about love is wrong. We are not wrong, nor are we abominations.”“So you say.” Now in my private quarters, I turned to Ahtu.

“Drop the servant angle. In here, we are equal, old friend.” I flopped on my plush chair made from the softest sea sponges and allowed my tentacles to part, displaying my humanoid legs.

Few in Nonmore knew my dirty secret, and Ahtu could be trusted.

“Bourne, shall I accompany you to the meeting with the others?”

“To the surface only. I assume it will be a closed-door meeting.”

“As you wish.” Ahtu fussed around my chamber collecting the ceremonial armor and the crown last worn by my father.

I had not worn it since the day I ascended the throne.

He rested the crown on a sea sponge used for displaying my precious possessions.

For the last few seasons, an image of my late mother graced the stand.

Ahtu placed the crown around her likeness, and a strange calmness washed over me as if the crown belonged to my parents and I was only an impostor pretending to rule.

“I will let you change.” Ahtu inclined his head.

“Bourne, do not procrastinate. This is your birthright.”

I reached forward to clasp his hand.

“Thank you for being a voice of reason.”

Ahtu laughed.

“Who else would have the balls to stand up to you?”

“True.”

The chamber grew quiet once Ahtu left, save for the distant murmur of the sea and the steady pulse of the lives of my people humming in the water.

This meeting had the potential to be fraught with danger from the land-walkers.

I didn’t think the other species would frighten them, but my presence most likely would.

Since my parents passed in an unlikely alliance of the trench people and land-walkers, it fell to me to ensure the peace and prosperity of my land and my people.

The iridescent plates of the ceremonial armor shimmered with the colors of the deep sea, each a symbol of the power I held.

I allowed the weight of the armor to ground my thoughts.

When the armor was in place, I turned to face myself in the floor to ceiling mirror.

“Are you ready, Bourne? You’ve taken longer than usual.” Ahtu waited at my door.

“Yes.” I turned to leave.

“Forgetting something?”

“No.” My trident hung on the wall near the exit.

Ahtu entered and held the crown in both his hands.

“I can’t.”

“You must.” He placed the crown upon my head, just as he had at my coronation.

“There. Now, you’re ready.”

“Ahtu, I will not allow our people to let the balance of Sanos tip from the sea dwellers to those on the land. We have the wisdom of our ancients flowing through our veins. I have learned from my parents’ mistakes.”

“Understood.” Ahtu palmed his trident.

“The others were not asking to alter the power, only that we listen. You have an equal voice and vote among the royals.” He clapped me on my shoulder.

“Now, let’s go.”

We swam in silence toward the surface.

Our bodies, inky blue-black that blend with the depths, clashed with the ever brightening colors closer to the landmasses.

Simple fish, corals in varying hues and single finned creatures, the Quxoni, dwelled here.

“Do you hear that?” I asked Ahtu.

We paused in the middle of our ascent.

“Hear what?” His eyes shut.

“Nothing unusual.”

Thud.

Thud.

“That one. A thud.”

Ahtu cocked his head.

“No. Nothing.”

There it was again.

“What about now?”

Thud.

Thud.

“No, nothing.” Ahtu glanced my way.

“Maybe it’s your nerves. We’re close to breaching the surface.”

“Perhaps.” I didn’t think so, but I’d been wrong before.

We swam faster, our tentacles propelling us out of the water with five strong pumps.

We emerged next to an enormous boulder jutting out of the water next to a pristine beach.

An alien craft, the likes of which I’d never seen, had landed nearby.

A rickety platform allowed the occupants to descend.

The first to emerge was female.

The second as well.

I watched, fascinated, as they exited one at a time.

They were all different, with varying sizes, shapes, and hair colors.

None caught my attention, save for the last.

Sunlight glinted against her hair, spun like the yellowy glow of the bioluminescence common to my realm.

I leaned forward, hoping to catch another glance of her face.

Then I heard the noise again.

Thud.

Thud.

An explosion shook the beach where we were supposed to have our meeting.

Feminine screams came from the land-walkers, and chaos ensued.

“What happened?” Ahtu asked.

“I don’t know.” My gaze focused on the female with sunlight hair.

“Where did she go?”

“Who?”

I lurched out of the water, forcing my tentacles to work in conjunction with my legs, racing across the sand toward the female.

Where was she?

A second explosion near my position threw sand in my face, temporarily blinding me.

Instinct told me to return to the water.

Once under the waves, the sand dissipated.

The female struggled to surface, but was losing the battle.

A piece of surface debris struck her upper back, or head, and she sank like a castaway stone.

I spun around, allowing my tentacles to spread out, covering the maximum space possible.

The tip of my trident tapped against the glowing crystals of the crown that marked me as Royal.

A short electric pulse coursed over my flesh, stunning everything my skin contacted.

I reached the female in record time, grabbing her and pulling her against my chest as I turned my back to take the impact of the falling debris.

“What?” I shook my head as I stared into her Larimar-colored eyes.

Impossible.

Fates be damned.

She wasn’t any random land dweller.

The light-haired legged creature I held in my arms like precious gems was my mate.

“Bourne, your eyes,” Ahtu said, swimming up behind me.

“We need to go. Now.” I darted deeper into the darkness, away from the debris.

My tentacles tightened around the female, as precious air bubbles escaped her lips.

“Two heartbeats,” I murmured before pressing my lips against my fated mate, breathing life changing air and bonding venom into her mouth.

If the gods were kind, she would not suffer as my DNA intertwined with hers, allowing her to live with me.

“Damn.”