Page 16

THALASSAR

T he council chamber vibrated with undertones of discord.

Eleven pairs of solid black eyes fixed on Lucy as she entered on my arm.

I felt her tense beside me, though her face remained calm.

Guards flanked the entrance, their scaled hands gripping ceremonial spears tipped with sacred coral.

“Deep breaths,” I murmured to her, keeping my expression neutral despite the storm brewing inside me.

The memory pearl I’d given her nestled behind her ear, its opalescent glow nearly hidden by her dark hair.

Lucy squeezed my arm.

“I’m fine.”

I led her to the two carved chairs at the head of the crescent-shaped table.

Every council member’s posture stiffened when Lucy sat in the chair traditionally reserved for the queen consort.

Korus, my military advisor, spoke first.

“My king, while we appreciate your attendance, perhaps the human would be more comfortable waiting elsewhere.”

“The human,” Lucy said before I could respond, “would prefer to be addressed directly.”

I suppressed a smile as several council members shifted uncomfortably.

The translation pearl was working better than expected.

“This emergency session concerns her directly,” I said to Korus.

“Lucy stays.”

“As you wish.” Korus’s scales darkened along his neck---a sign of his displeasure, but he would not argue further.

“The attack on Lady Lucy was deliberate,” I continued, using the honorary title for the first time.

“I want answers.”

Elder Veda, her silver scales gleaming even in the dim council light, nodded approvingly at my words.

My mother’s oldest friend and advisor, she alone had supported my decision to bring Lucy to our kingdom from the beginning.

“The traditionalists will argue tradition,” Korus said, gesturing to the four eldest members who sat at the far end of the table.

“They believe the human presence---especially in the royal chambers---violates our most sacred customs.”

The eldest member, Ravis, thumped his coral staff against the floor.

“It is not merely tradition! The prophecies warn against allowing outsiders into our sacred spaces.”

Lucy leaned forward.

“What prophecies?”

Ravis’s mouth tightened into a thin line.

“I speak to my king, not to you.”

“You will address Lady Lucy with the respect due to a royal guest,” I said, each word sharp as a blade.

“Or you will leave my council.”

Elder Veda traced a pattern on the table’s surface, an old gesture of requesting permission to speak.

“Perhaps we should discuss what our scouts have found at the human landing site.”

My attention snapped to Maris, who oversaw the scouting parties.

“Report.”

“The site was abandoned,” Maris said, sliding a small memory pearl across the table.

“All the human females are missing.”

The pearl projected images of an empty metal vessel on the shore, strange equipment scattered around it.

Lucy stiffened.

“My team. What happened to them?”

“We don’t know,” Maris admitted.

“There were signs of struggle. It’s possible other clans took them.”

“Or they fled inland,” Korus added.

“Into territories we cannot easily search.”

Lucy’s hands gripped the armrests of her chair.

“We need to find them. Now.”

“Speaking of the Mersai,” I said, my voice hardening, “we’ve discovered how they infiltrated the gardens.” I gestured to Korus, who nodded grimly.

“They exploited the brief opening of the storm wall when our scouts returned. Our investigation shows they wore crude imitations of palace guard markings---enough to fool distant observers in the confusion of the scouts’ return. They then accessed the old maintenance channels---water pathways designed for gardeners that connect to the outer reef.” My scales darkened slightly with anger.

“The storm wall protects our shores, but our own security protocols were exploited. The investigation continues.”

“Your concern for your people is admirable,” Elder Veda said, her ancient eyes studying Lucy with interest.

“Much like our queen mother’s concern for ours, wouldn’t you agree, ?”

I nodded, grateful for Veda’s intervention.

“My mother would have considered all options before judgment.”

“Your mother,” Ravis spat, “was too trusting of outsiders. It led to her death.”

The chamber temperature dropped several degrees as my anger flared.

“Mind yourself, Ravis.”

“He speaks without wisdom,” Veda said calmly.

“Your mother envisioned a future where our people did not hide behind storm walls, but engaged with the world beyond. She would have welcomed this alliance with humans.”

“Alliance?” one of the younger council members echoed, shifting uncomfortably.

“We speak of alliance already?”

"Any potential alliance requires trust and security," I interjected, my voice sharp.

"Yet Lady Lucy has already faced two attempts on her life within our protected territory. We cannot seriously discuss alliances, Elder, until we identify and neutralize this internal threat. I would know who orchestrates these attacks."

Ravis leaned forward, his expression sour.

“Perhaps the threat is not from our enemies, King , but from loyal subjects acting to protect our traditions from contamination? The prophecies warn that outsiders will drain the Heart Tree's energy! ”

Lucy stood suddenly, drawing all eyes. “I understand your concerns. I arrived uninvited. I represent the unknown. But my people came seeking refuge, not conquest. Our peoples could benefit from cooperation—if you’ll allow it.”

Her words hung in the chamber’s stillness. Several council members exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable to human eyes but clear to mine: surprise, curiosity, and in some, a reluctant respect.

“The human speaks well,” Maris conceded.

“The human has a name,” I reminded them.

“Lucy,” Veda said, her voice warm with approval. “You must tell us more about your people’s needs. After we conclude the official business.”

The meeting continued with reports of increased Mersai activity near our borders. I found myself distracted, watching Lucy process the pearl’s translations, her expression shifting subtly as she followed the complex discussions. She caught details I hadn’t expected her to grasp.

As the council dispersed two hours later, Elder Veda approached us, her movements slow but deliberate. “My king, might I request a private audience with you and Lady Lucy?”

“Of course, Elder,” I replied, surprised by the formal request. Veda rarely stood on ceremony with me.

The ancient healer led us through corridors less traveled, past guards who bowed deeply at our approach. The walls here displayed older architecture, carved with symbols of our earliest history.

“Where are we going?” Lucy whispered, her hand still tucked in mine.

“The sacred archives,” I answered, equally quiet. “Few are permitted entry.”

Veda stopped before a carved wall of ancient coral composite, its surface etched with our oldest language. She pressed her scaled palm against it and murmured words too ancient for even my translation.

The stone glowed, then an archway widened.

“Welcome to our beginning,” Veda said, ushering us inside.

Rows of crystalline shelves held ancient texts, memory pearls, and artifacts rescued from our original homeworld. The air smelled different here---saltier, with undertones of minerals not found in our current waters.

“This place is incredible,” Lucy breathed, her eyes wide surveying the columns of preserved knowledge.

“This is where we keep the truth of our origins,” Veda said, guiding us to a central display. “Your mother visited here often, . She believed our future lay in understanding our past.”

Veda activated a large memory pearl set into a coral pedestal. Images bloomed around us---a distant planet wracked by geological upheaval, ships departing its surface.

“We were also refugees,” Veda explained, watching Lucy’s reaction carefully. “Our homeworld was dying. The ancient kings and queens led our people across the stars to find a new home.”

Lucy’s expression shifted from awe to recognition. “Just like us. Earth is becoming uninhabitable. That’s why we’re seeking new worlds.”

“Perhaps not coincidence but destiny that you found us,” Veda suggested, her ancient eyes holding mine meaningfully.

“You told me that my mother believed we would one day encounter others like ourselves,” I said, remembering conversations long past.

“She would have welcomed humans as potential allies, not feared them as invaders,” Veda confirmed, touching a scaled finger to a text scroll. “These are her private journals. She wrote of opening relations with other species, of strengthening our kingdom through diversity rather than isolation.”

Lucy moved closer to me, her warmth against my side a comfort I hadn’t known I needed. “She sounds remarkable.”

“She was,” I said softly.

“And her son has more of her vision than he admits,” Veda added. “I’ll leave you two to explore a bit. The archives will inform me when you’re ready to depart.”

Before she left, Veda placed a withered hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Our people survived by finding a new world when ours was lost. Perhaps now we can help yours do the same. That would be a fine continuation of our queen mother’s legacy, wouldn’t it, ?”

The pearl door sealed behind her, leaving Lucy and me alone among the ancient records of my people.

“She arranged this,” Lucy said, still looking around in wonder. “Didn’t she?”

“Veda rarely does anything without purpose,” I acknowledged, watching how the soft blue light played across Lucy’s features. “She was my mother’s closest confidante. If anyone knows what my mother would have wanted, it’s her.”

Lucy ran her fingers lightly over a displayed text. “What does this one say?”

I moved behind her, close enough to breathe in her scent. “‘From the stars we came, and to the stars our destiny returns us.’ A secret that even I never knew.”

“Beautiful,” she whispered.

“Many of these texts speak of cycles,” I explained, reluctant to move away from her. “Of how patterns repeat across time and space. Endings become new beginnings.”

“Like your people finding this world after losing their own.” Lucy turned to face him, her back against the display. “And now my people, doing the same.”

The space between us charged with unspoken possibilities. My scales tingled with awareness of her proximity.

“Lucy.” I took her hands in mine, their smallness and lack of scales still fascinating to me. “I’ve made my decision. I want you to stay. Not as my guest or as an ambassador for your people, but as my queen.”

She inhaled sharply. “---“

“I know it’s sudden by human standards. I know there are complications. But I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

“We barely know each other,” she protested, though she didn’t pull her hands away.

“I know enough. I know you’re brave and brilliant. I know you care deeply for your people, as I do for mine. I know you’ve awakened something in me I thought died with my mother---hope for something beyond mere survival.”

“The council would never accept me.”

“Some already do. The rest will follow or be replaced.” I brushed my thumb across her cheek. “We can find your team together. We can forge an alliance between our peoples. But most importantly, we can build something neither of us expected to find across the stars.”

“And what’s that?” she asked, her pulse quickening under my touch.

“A future. Together.” I leaned down, my forehead touching hers in the intimate greeting of my people. “Stay with me, Lucy Stewart. Be my queen. Let us write the next chapter of both our peoples’ stories.”

As we stood there in the sacred archives, I felt Lucy’s gaze drift to a carving of the ancient tree on one of the scrolls. “The tree you showed me,” she said softly, “it seems to be important in all your histories.”

“It symbolizes our connection to this world,” I confirmed. “ According to tradition, it will bless or reject our union.”

Lucy’s fingers traced the carving. “When we were there, I felt something... something alive. Like it was aware of us.”

I covered her hand with mine. “The tree has accepted you already. I could feel it.”