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Thylas

T wo moon cycles have passed since Atlas met his demise and I’ve been called King. I fought it at first, the warring inside of my soul. The darkness and flames that wanted to take over. I thought of cerulean hair and bright smiles and flames that burned in sacrifice. I remembered Siphonie and her constant teasing. I considered Rhenor and how he would be ashamed. I even thought of Ereon, who was strong enough to fight against his father. Antalis fell beneath the sea the same day I had the crown placed on my head. Reports state that everyone from Antalis vanished and no one from the kingdom has survived. But I know Carnaxa’s out there. I can feel her sometimes, her gentle magic twisting inside the confines of my heart, barely there. I think of her in the darkest of nights, when I know I shouldn’t enjoy what I have become, but I’m losing the battle waging inside me.

I’m learning to relish in this power, the stronger magic inside of me. I let the flames swirl around my arms, licking against the tattoos there. This power isn’t like what I had before. It’s stronger. Sache Ataiun stands outside, guarding the door to the throne room, waiting for my next command. The entirety of Prel does as well. The power of being king, something I never believed I deserved, now stretches out before me like a grand carpet. My thoughts are messy, the old me warring still with this new version of myself that threatens to consume my being. Words filter in, words of hate and sorrow, words of remorse, and yet words acknowledging I finally have everything I deserve.

I look down, next to the dais, where Anara lies in a golden casket crafted to keep her forever preserved in her beautiful state. I try not to forget her. When the moments of Khaysus' corruption on my soul don’t have full control, I think of her sacrifice. She tethers me, reminding me of who I once was.

Sache Ataiun enters and bows at the waist. “King Thylas.”

I look down at Anara, her brown hair laid around her like a halo. Home was always on her mind, a constant longing that tugged at her heart.

“Prepare the men to go to the Southern Continent.” I stand up, grabbing the crown from the side table and placing it on my head. As I gaze out over the horizon, I can see the vast expanse of my kingdom, with the kukhe and khind on the outskirts. The distant roars and distinctive odors wafting through the air can be sensed for miles. I called the khind, who fought against their wall, back from Midaeliea, not because I am done with their kingdom — but because, unlike Atlas — I aspire for more.

Khaysus has helped me learn much these past few moons, everything I need to know to conquer the lands stretched before me and to bring about his reign, because I am not the same as the ones who came before me. Atlas’ soul simply drifted from one body to the next, but here and now, I am something more than he ever was. The memories of Atlas remain, but I am the one who leads. A new being, a being that Khaysus is titillated to teach.

“The Southern Continent, King? Why?” Sache Ataiun asks, confused. Anger bursts through me, fury I was once told to keep controlled now floods my veins and I let it.

They don’t fully understand who you are.

Words slither into my brain. Words from the one the Shastonians call Ra Syam , but I now know him as Khaysus.

Show them and prepare for me.

“She always wanted to go home.” I look down at Anara. “I think it’s time we took her there, and we can remind the Southern Continent that they aren’t untouchable.”

“You want to conquer the Southern Continent?” Sache Ataiun words filter with shock. “Is that what I am to tell the men? They won’t like it, having already lost so many to Antalis’ fall.”

“I don’t care.” As I walk up to him, the heat from the flames I release engulfs his neck, serving as a powerful reminder that I am the one in control as the King. “Tell them to prepare for war.”

To Be Continued …

“But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.”

~ Hans Christian Andersen