The Little Mermaid Part II: Battle Cries
A short story retelling the Hans Christian Andersen dark fairy tale.
The Little Mermaid’s tail rippled with excitement. Followed by a trail of simmering bubbles, she sailed through twilight, diving towards her underwater home. Her thirsty skin could not withstand The Sun’s love long enough to be blessed with a soul and a waning existence prohibited her from claiming one across the ages. If she were human though, if she were no longer captive in a soulless mermaid body, she prayed it could be so. And she was willing to try anything.
Each withering stroke chipped away at her decaying flesh. She clung to hope knowing that this would be her ultimate adventure, her last crusade. There were two pathways she could take to become human. The first path meant battling her father. Victory over the confrontation would have great significance, and failure great betrayal. The latter meant venturing into a dreadful unknown she wished to never explore. Her last hopes of survival, in the arms of two very different fears.
The silhouette of her royal home emerged amongst a backdrop of profound blues and rich blacks suspended in midnight. A brilliant underwater castle stood at the beating core of the kingdom. Romanesque pillars held up ancient rock pediments with carved out scenes of merfolk legends. Curated by dedicated mermaids with vision and talents she could only imagine. Erosion by frolicking tides revealed new scenery over the ages, like watching history unfold. The castle was lit by bioluminescent sea life that ebbed and flowed, hypnotised by swaying streams. From a distance the rest of the kingdom resembled smaller, shallow reefs, colourful and lively with cracks and crevices for all kinds of creatures to thrive. The whole city was doused in ethereal greatness.
The intangible essence swelled around The Little Mermaid as a crushing weight came to mind, breaking across her face like waves meeting the shore. The very thought of confronting her father induced an ailing pit in her desolate stomach. She hadn’t eaten in days yet felt full of flittering fish, leaping through organs to escape.
She knew her father could not understand. Since the passing of her mother and grandmother he had become distant, colder, unable to face her up on the discovery of her curse. She loved him dearly for everything he had done for her. Protecting her sisters and the entire kingdom was no small feat. Though what good is this protection if she no longer exists? She could not simply become nothing. That thought was like the constant sting of a jellyfish tentacle. It numbed her fears, willing her to glide through the kingdom, through the cracks and crevices towards the castle with no streaming consciousness to stop her. An entranced chorus of bodily senses had taken over. A pulsing heart, swaying arms, an undulating tail. Propelling her towards her greatest desires.
The Sea King’s resounding voice awoke her from the trance. He instructed his advisors with an authoritative cadence that permeated through the castle, seeping into the walls. His being was as much the castle as his flesh, scales, and bones. There wasn’t a flick of wisping hair or a splashing fin that happened without his pervading presence.
His voice bellowed around the rotunda, whipping her like a formidable wind as she hid behind a marble column in the throne room. The measure of his power was emphatic and she, insignificant, like the smallest fish in the deepest sea. Peering apprehensively around the column, she watched her father casually settled on his imperial throne. His majesty crowned by the ocean stones, gifts from the two ocean spirits which framed either side of him. The founders of their kingdom. Four giant columns stood beside him representing his strength and authority backed by the senate. He caught sight of The Little Mermaid’s pinkened face. Her exhaustion startled him. He adjusted his demeanour switching to fatherly tones.
“My dear daughter, how happy I am to see you looking so well.” he lied.
“Father, I have one final wish before I die.” she held her breath as the abrupt declaration resounded through the circular hall. It wasn’t customary to talk about such things in their culture. They were proud, independent, strong; creatures of the deep. Except she had no time to mess about with niceties. And couldn’t pluck up the energy anyway.
The Little Mermaid’s brazen request struck The King across his stoic face. He would not ordinarily hear of such insolence but the life draining from his dear daughter right before him was enough to waiver from such traditions. Any moment he could spend with her was a moment to preserve.
“You may speak, my dear daughter.” he finally pardoned her. His voice so low it provoked a frenzy in the water surrounding him.
“I wish to become human, so that I can spend my final moments bathing in the Sun Goddess’s love” – inhaling desperately, she scavenged any spec of courage within her and continued – “so that she will bless me with a soul and I can have eternal life in the heavens.”
With panicked expressions The Sea King’s advisors gasped in relief as he gestured for them to leave. He mulled over the origins of such a request. He had no idea she knew of these fables and suspected his mother had filled her head with such fantasies. His eyes landed on the last flickering hope in hers. Coral flushed cheeks exposed her recent endeavours to the surface. The Sun Goddess had wounded his daughter's delicate skin with her callous bite. The punishment for breaking the law of the seven seas was exile.
“This I cannot do.” he muttered plainly, hiding behind a dam of pending grief.
The Little Mermaid felt her lungs collapse squeezing out any remaining oxygen. Her face still tingled, a sign of where she longed to be. The ocean used to bring her joy, but now all she felt was cold. A somber emptiness and she, a stranger in a place that was no longer home.
The Sea King studied the despair that blemished her beautiful face. Her spirit had been shattered. The curiosity and excitement that made her brilliant was a frail shiver. Silence ticked by. He knew he owed his daughter a longer explanation this time.
“The surface is no place for mermaids, my dear daughter. Humans are dangerous for all creatures of the seven seas. They hunt us and our friends for sport. They carve us onto their ships as they set sail to pillage and murder their own kind.”
Ignoring his plea, she looked towards the floor, decorated with pearlescent marble. A symbol of their oceanic monarchy. It was a great honour to witness such magnificent treasures – the marble, the ocean stones, the ocean spirits, The King. Many of her kind had only ever learned from those fortunate, or unfortunate, enough to be in the throne room. While her father continued she caught sight of peculiar light reflections, bouncing faintly around the floor. They illuminated the colourful pools within the pearl. It reminded her of The Goddess’s markings in shallow waters. Impossible, she thought. Her light does not reach the deep.
“Their Goddess is unkind.” he proclaimed, severing her limerence. “The very water which gives us our life and home is unwillingly sucked out of us in her presence. She scars our skin with her bloodied marks. Her love is conditional. She is no Goddess worth worshipping if she only blesses those able to withstand her malevolence. When we dissolve, we return to the sea and contribute to its prosperity. We give life to our brothers and sisters so that our kind may live on in peace.”
“Father,” her voice cracked, “I will be nothing.” she felt the words fade from her lips as they became too painful to speak. “I will cease to exist." she whispered. Her eyes began to tingle, the same trembling sensation from the world above. Invisible tears floated away, carried by the gentle underwater current.
Her defeated expression pierced The King’s broad chest. He announced as loudly as he could possibly summon.
“You will never be gone in my heart–”
“If I’m human–” she interrupted, pleading with him to help her on her final quest.
“My word is final.” The King exclaimed in a royal declaration, slicing her hope with every pounding echo.
Her tears persevered, vanishing into the prison around her. At least her father could not see them, she thought, one last inch of a shallow dignity, one last harrah of her people’s customs. She looked up at her father one last time, longing to see a crack in his porcelain demeanour. Praying to see a glimpse of her father when she needed him most. But she only met an enduring leader, an impenetrable king.
The betrayal cut her down in deepening canyons. With a strong swish of her tail she left the throne room to seek out her very last hope. A creature said to be cast out by far more sinister actions than breaking the surface.
Surrounded by worthless trinkets, The Sea King was taunted by the burden and sacrifice he inherited when his mother abdicated the throne. Watching her despair in every expression was like an implosion, eviscerating every inch of his being. He wanted nothing more than to slow time, to bleed the argument dry just to have her with him a little longer. Even in these defiant moments, The Little Mermaid was The Sea King’s most precious daughter. But he was a statue on his throne, paralysed by pride and duty. He succumbed to his fate that the sight of her floating away would torment him forever. A familiar defeated expression came across his face as invisible tears began to flow from his eyes. He had never wanted to abandon his duties more. His advisors entered the room cautiously.
“Bring her home.” he commanded without taking his eye away from the pearl floor. The idea of her dissolving away from home was a reality he refused to let sink.
The Little Mermaid written and illustrated by Kelsey Cameron is a short retelling of the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale told in four parts. It features a young and curious mermaid who embarks on an emotional journey to change her fate. A fate she cannot accept. This story is about perspective, grief, and eternal love.