Page 17

LUCY

I sat on the rim of the garden terrace, dangling my feet in a shallow pool filled with tiny, glittering fish that darted between my toes.

The memory pearl hung warm against my neck, its weight both physical and symbolic.

Queen.

The word echoed in my mind, both thrilling and terrifying.

Just days ago, I’d had one mission---find a habitable place for humanity’s survivors.

Now Thalassar wanted me to stay as his queen.

The fish scattered as I stirred the water with my fingers.

What would my team say if they knew?

What would the mission commanders back on the Legacy think?

I’d essentially gone native within days of landing.

But then.

.

.

was that so wrong?

I’d come looking for a new home, and I’d found one.

Just not in the way anyone had expected.

“Troubled thoughts swim loud as school of chora fish,” a voice said from behind me.

I turned to find Elder Veda approaching, her silver scales like liquid moonlight.

Her black eyes studied me with gentle humor.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my hand instinctively going to the translation pearl.

“My understanding is still... incomplete.”

“You learn quick. Faster than any outsider I’ve seen.” She settled beside me with a grace that belied her age.

“Pearl likes you.”

I smiled, focusing on forming the words in her language.

“Pearl... helps much.”

“Your pronunciation improves,” she praised, switching to my language with noticeable effort.

“Now tell me what troubles your heart.”

I sighed.

“Thalassar asked me to be his queen.”

Veda’s eyes widened slightly.

“And this brings sadness?”

“Not sadness. Confusion.” I struggled to express the complexity of my feelings.

“I came here with a purpose. My people need a new home. I have responsibilities.”

“Ah. Duty versus heart.” She nodded sagely.

“Old battle, fought in many souls.”

We sat in silence for a moment, watching the fish return cautiously to investigate my toes.

Below the terrace, the city stretched out in glowing spirals and domes, alive with movement and light.

“His mother would approve,” Veda said suddenly.

“She believed in connections between worlds.”

“What was she like?” I asked, genuinely curious about the woman who had shaped Thalassar.

“Visionary. Brave.” Veda’s expression softened with memory.

“She saw beyond borders. Beyond differences. She dreamed of alliance with land-dwellers again.” She patted my hand.

“You remind me of her. Same fire in your eyes.”

Before I could respond, the sound of children’s laughter echoed from a lower terrace.

I leaned forward to see a group of young ones playing in a shallow pool.

Their small scales shimmered in iridescent patterns as they chased each other through jets of bubbles.

One child, smaller than the others with scales in shades of purple and blue, sat apart, watching wistfully as the others played.

“Why doesn’t that one join in?” I asked.

Veda’s expression turned sad.

“Mira lost her parents to a Mersai raid. She’s still learning to play again.”

Without thinking, I stood.

“Can we go down there?”

Veda looked surprised but nodded.

We descended a spiraling staircase carved from coral and mother-of-pearl.

As we approached, the children noticed us and stopped playing, their black eyes wide as they took in my human appearance.

“It’s alright,” I murmured, the pearl warming against my skin as I formed the words.

“Please... continue playing.”

They stared until Veda made a shooing motion with her hands.

Gradually, they returned to their game, though they cast curious glances my way.

I approached the solitary child, Mira, and knelt beside her.

“Hello,” I said softly.

“I’m .”

Her solemn gaze met mine.

“You’re the human. The one who will be queen.”

Her directness made me smile.

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Why not?” she asked with a child’s blunt curiosity.

I considered how to explain.

“It’s a big decision. I have friends I’m worried about.”

Mira nodded seriously.

“My friends are gone too. After the bad ones came.”

My heart ached for her.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged with a childish attempt at nonchalance.

“Elder Veda says sometimes we lose people but find new ones. Not to replace, but to heal.”

Out of the mouths of babes.

I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat.

“Would you like to play with the others?” I asked, changing the subject.

Mira looked at the other children longingly.

“They move too fast. I can’t keep up since I hurt my fin.”

I noticed then the slight discoloration on her right side, a healed injury.

An idea formed.

“I know a game from my world,” I said, smiling.

The pearl hummed, guiding my pronunciation.

“One that doesn’t need much swimming. Would you like to learn it?”

Her eyes lit up.

“Yes!”

I taught her “Duck, Duck, Goose” -- though we replaced the animals with local equivalents: “Delfyra, Delfyra, Kyvthos.” Within minutes, the other children had gathered around, curious.

Soon we had a circle of little ones seated around the pool's border, giggling as I explained the rules through my still-limited vocabulary.

As they played, squealing with delight, Mira’s transformation was remarkable. Her face glowed with joy, her earlier solemnity vanished. She tagged another child and ran-swam around the circle, laughing when she barely made it back to the empty spot.

I felt Elder Veda’s hand on my shoulder. “See? You bridge worlds already.”

The children’s laughter reminded me of my team. Even amidst this joy, worry gnawed at me. Each night I tried the communicator, sending signals into silence. Were they searching for me too? Had they survived?

I pictured Brooke’s authoritative calm, Emme’s nervous brilliance, Imogen’s dry humor. Had they made it to safety after the attack? Were they together, or scattered across this alien world? The diplomatic progress I was making here would mean nothing if I couldn’t eventually reconnect with them and explain what I’d discovered. “I need to find them,” I whispered, more to myself than to Veda. “Even as I build a life here.”

Lost in my thoughts, I watched the children play this hybrid game -- Earth rules with adaptations -- and something clicked into place.

This could work. Not humans taking over, not remaining completely separate, but something new. Something better. Together.

I could be that bridge here.

As the children played, I noticed two young mothers watching from nearby, whispering to each other. With newfound confidence, I approached them.

“Hello,” I said in their language. “I hope it’s alright I taught them this game.”

They exchanged glances, then one spoke hesitantly. “The children seem happy.”

“It’s from my world,” I explained, the pearl helping me find more complex words. “But it works well here too, with... adjustments.”

The second mother studied me. “Is it true what they say? That you’ll be our queen?”

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. “Thalassar has asked me. I haven’t given my answer yet.”

“Why not?” she asked, echoing Mira’s earlier question.

I considered my words carefully. “I worry about... belonging. About understanding enough to help, not harm.”

The first mother’s expression softened. “You play with our children when others see only their sadness. You learn our language when others would demand we learn yours.” She gestured to my necklace. “You wear the symbols of our people with respect.”

“These seem like qualities of belonging to me,” the second added.

A sense of rightness settled over me, brighter than the pearl's magic.

“Thank you,” I said simply.

As the afternoon continued, I found myself drawn deeper into the community around me.

More children came, then older siblings, then parents.

I taught more games, and they taught me some of theirs -- a complex pattern game played with shells and currents that I could barely follow but loved attempting.

I was sitting with Mira, who had appointed herself my unofficial helper, teaching the others how to make simple braided bracelets from strands of a soft, kelp-like plant, when I felt it -- the distinct shift in energy that always accompanied Thalassar’s arrival.

I looked up to find him standing at the edge of the gathering, watching me with an expression that made my heart skip.

Pride, wonder, and something deeper shone in his black eyes.

The children noticed him and immediately bowed, their movements graceful even in play.

Mira tugged at my sleeve.

“The king is here,” she whispered unnecessarily.

I stood, suddenly aware of my disheveled appearance -- my borrowed dress damp and slightly rumpled, strands of the plant material stuck to my fingers, my hair fallen from its careful arrangement.

But the way Thalassar looked at me, I might have been wearing the finest royal regalia.

“Your Majesty,” I said, offering a small bow of my own.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he replied, his voice carrying across the now-quiet gathering.

“Veda said I might find you here.”

One of the mothers stepped forward, bowing deeply.

“We apologize for keeping the future queen occupied, Your Majesty.”

A murmur rippled through the group at her use of “future queen.”

Thalassar’s gaze never left mine.

“No apologies needed. I see she has been exactly where she belongs.”

The statement, simple as it was, resonated through me.

Where I belonged.

Yes.

That was what I’d felt all afternoon, wasn’t it?

Mira suddenly let go of my hand and darted forward, forgetting protocol in her childish enthusiasm.

“King Thalassar! taught us games from her world! And I was the best at Delfyra - Kyvthos!”

“Mira!” her caretaker gasped, mortified.

But Thalassar only smiled, crouching to the child’s level.

“Did she now? And what else did you learn today?”

Mira beamed.

“That different doesn’t mean scary. It can mean new and fun!”

Thalassar’s eyes met mine over the child’s head, and the simple wisdom in her words hung between us like a revelation.

As the gathering dispersed for the evening meal, Thalassar approached me.

His hand reached for mine, scales smooth against my skin.

“Walk with me?” he asked.

We strolled along the winding paths of the terrace gardens, the plants gradually brightening as natural light dimmed.

Our fingers remained intertwined, a bridge between our different worlds.

“You’ve made quite an impression,” he said after we’d walked in comfortable silence.

“Veda says half the kingdom is already in love with you.”

I laughed softly.

“I just played some games with children.”

“You did much more than that.” His voice was serious now.

“You showed them humanity. Not as invaders or refugees, but as friends. As equals with different gifts to share.”

We stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the city.

Lights twinkled below us, homes and buildings glowing with pearl-light.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“I’ve been thinking about your proposal,” I said, turning to face him.

His expression remained carefully neutral, but I caught the flicker of hope in his eyes.

“And?”

“I have an answer for you,” I replied, my heart suddenly racing.

“If you still want to hear it.”

Thalassar took both my hands in his, his black eyes reflecting the lights of his kingdom.

“Nothing would honor me more,” he said.