Young Writers Society

You live on mountains. Wherever you stand, in a cave or meadow or castle, you are miles higher than the rest of the world. There are lands on earth that none of you have known, plains and forests more uncharted than the moon. For the moon is at least visible to you. Of the moon we see only a bright blur, like silver dropped into water to cool, and the sun looks like a red flower, miles above us. Only the brightest stars are visible to us. We fly through the deeps, and it seems to us that we float in the night sky.

Chapter One

Silira lay on the hard stone, looking at the full moon high above her. The sea murmured close by, just at the bottom of the steps. At the top of the steps was a palace built of gold-colored stone, but she was too far down the steps to see it. Her long hair, pale blonde, was dripping on the stone, but her huge blue eyes, deep and dark as the sea, were dry. Since she could not cry, she suffered infinitely more than humans do. She pulled her black cloak around her, breathing hard from the long swim. Only one thing had to be done before she left her home forever.

She knew it was worth it. Not only for the prince's love, but to give everyone a chance at eternal love. It was all she'd ever wanted.

She took her thumb off the vial, took a deep breath, and drank the potion. For exactly three seconds, nothing happened. Then the pain came. Before she could wake the humans with a shriek, she fainted.

When she woke, with burning pain in all her limbs, the prince was standing over her, looking curious.

Barf.

She gasped, but the potion made her do it silently, and tried to stand up. She fell back, still exhausted. He knelt down next to her.

"Who are you?"

She wished to be able to speak more than anything, but only smiled mysteriously.

"Where did you come from?" She really wished she had had a plan.

He looked into her eyes. Though she had gotten legs, she hadn't become human. Her eyes were still huge, her teeth and ears pointed, her features angular and streamlined. But her eyes were the most surprising to him, huge and blue and glittering with sunlight and tears.

"Can you speak?" She shook her head again.

He took her arms. "Can you get up?" She considered, then nodded. After all, the witch had said the potion would let her be able to walk, not just give her legs--WHOA!

She was standing up with as much grace and fluidity as if she was swimming. But this was with legs. It was like the change from moving in water to moving in air, except that the change was far bigger. This was like a human waking up with a tail and being able to use it perfectly. As promised, she was graceful, more so than any human. Her feet didn't hurt yet, since she had taken no steps, and the pain in her limbs was fading. She felt wonderful, and turned to face the dawn, still not taking a step.

"Come inside," said the prince, confused, but he wasn't really thinking of why she was there. He was wondering who she was, and how it was possible that she looked so like a girl he tried not to remember. "Whatever the matter is, I'm sure we can sort it out."

She thought so, too, and kept smiling, standing without his help and looking up at the pinnacles and domes of the palace, hearing the fountain splash inside, and took her first step--

AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Pain. Large. Knives under her feet. Too much to stand. She collapsed too fast for him to see the pain on her face. Her eyes dimmed as if she were sinking back through deep water. The last thing she saw was the sea sparkling in the sun.

After a while, she began to dream.

Far out in the wide sea, where the water is as blue as a cornflower and clear as the purest crystal, with sea-trees and plants swishing under the currents, fish sliding like birds around and through them, stands the palace of the Sea King. The walls are coral, grown over thousands of years, and the high, pointed windows are gold-colored amber, shining in what sunset light can reach it; the roof is made of mussel shells, opening and closing as the billows pass over them, each holding a pearl.

Usually she was swimming and laughing in the spaciousness of the palace, where lovely flowers grew out of the walls on all sides, and feeding the fish that swam in through the windows. But now she sat in the garden outside the palace, full of fiery red and dark blue trees, whose fruit gleamed like gold, and whose flowers were like a bright burning sun. The sand of the garden was bright blue like burning sulphur, and that strangely beautiful blue was everywhere. A human would have said that the sky felt at once above and below. The water was still, making the sun visible as a burning purple flower, lighting up the world with a dim blue radiance. Each of the princesses had her own plot in the garden to use as she liked, and one was shaped like a whale, and one like a mermaid. But Silira had hers as round as the sun, which she was always gazing at through the vast expanse of water above her, and filled with red sea-flowers. She sat now among the red flowers, her green tail curving around her.

She opened her eyes. Light brighter than what she was used to shone back at her. It was about seventeen bright sunbeams, coming in the large window of a smallish room. A strong breeze blew the white linen curtains into the room. The walls shone bright yellow in the light. She was in the Golden Palace. Which was not literally golden.

Other than the soft white bed she was in, there was only a wardrobe, a small table, a chair, and a black woman in a simple blue dress who was sitting in the chair. The woman smiled, and said softly, "It's a good morning."

Silira stared around the chamber, still not used to everything being so dry and cool and the light being so bright.

The other woman said, "Can you tell me who you are?"

She shook her head.

"Can you speak?"

She shook her head again, looking at the woman. She was probably thirty-something. Her eyes were warm brown and somewhat concerned.

The woman sighed. "I feared as much. I'm Rosanna, the court doctor. Do you know sign language?"

Silira shook her head.

"Then can you write?"

Another shake. She knew the humans' language, but not their writing.

Rosanna folded her arms. "Then there is no way to know who you are. But you're still my patient. There are a few people asking questions, but fortunately not too many. The crown prince brought you to me quickly and quietly. Only his brother and the queen know about you. Everyone is busy because of the ball tonight. Dozens of monarchs and minor nobles will be there, so nobody cares to ask why one more guest arrived early." She winked. "The only questions will come from the royal family."

In that moment, Silira decided she would go to the ball. Yes, she felt terrible pain whenever she took a step, but she knew how to stand it. The first time had been a shock. This time, she was ready. Also, she had never cried in her life, not even as a baby. None of her kind could. And this meant that all of them had suffered more than usual. They knew how to look normal while concealing far more than could be seen, not unlike the sea. So she would not flinch. She might even dance.

Rosanna smiled. "I think I know you want to go. Actually, it might be better if you did. If you want to, that is. Frankly, I can find nothing wrong with you. You're of sound body, and I'm guessing your mind is fine, though that isn't my area. You fainted last night because you were tired, yes?"

Silira nodded.

"Do you want to go to the ball?"

Another nod.

"Are you an assassin? Because, if you are, you'll be speedily decapitated."

She shook her head.

Rosanna grinned. "Good. Then you can borrow my dress. I hate balls."

Silira smiled, trying to thank Rosanna. The doctor understood. She rose. "Get some sleep. I'll have the maids send up a bath. You're covered in sea salt."

Silira fell asleep, feeling, for the first time in a long while, as if she really had a chance at her goal. Which was love. If you're going to suffer through reading this, you ought to know that her only goal is love.

She dreamed again.

Up to the surface she shot, leaping out of the water, taking her first great breath of cool evening air. She landed back in the water, and stayed there, looking up and around. It was far more wonderful than she had imagined.

Dark clouds gathered at the horizon, seeming almost green in contrast to the bright rose and gold of the high-reaching sunset. The barely moving air felt refreshing, and she could move faster. She smiled. There was a ship, perhaps a mile in front of her, a lovely three-master with only one sail unfurled. She swam to it, hearing music and singing resounding from the deck, a rousing sailors' song in deep voices. Unseen by her, the clouds, the dark ones at the foot of the sky, rose higher, coming closer and blotting out more of the sunset, darkening the sky to a deep green. Hundreds of golden lamps were lit then, all at the same instant, all over the ship. Spunkies. Tiny Scottish fairies that glowed like distant fires. They served as fairy lights all over the world. Flags fluttered in the rising breeze, many of them, giving the ship a festive, glad, glowing look. She swam closer, trying to see the crew, her first humans. They were bustling around the deck, rough-clad, shouting cheerfully to each other. One went into the captain's cabin at the rear of the ship. She had an idea and moved astern, noting the name of the ship painted on its side, but in human letters which she didn't know. And there was a window in the back, a big one, and low enough for her to look through when the ship dipped down with the motion of the sea.

Inside, there were several well-dressed men, in good cloth and furs which she suspected were taken from land animals, though she couldn't tell which ones. And there was another, with his back to her, about her age, laughing and talking with the other men. She heard one of them call him "Your Highness." Then he turned, and she recognized him. That high forehead, and those big black eyes and thick black hair...it was the boy whose statue stood in her garden. She had been wondering what he was really like for years. And he was years older, and rather more attractive than the statue. She wished she could learn his name.

"Your Highness?" A burly, grizzled sailor leaned into the cabin. "We're all ready for you."

"Shall we proceed?" the kid asked a taller man next to him, and, without waiting for an answer (it appeared to have been a rhetorical question), walked out onto the deck. He balanced well on the deck, she noticed. She thought she might be able to walk well, with practice, if she had legs and feet. Their legs looked so strange. She turned and swam to get a better view of the deck, and that was when the hundred rocketing fireworks went up, every color of the rainbow, bursting with the sound of a thousand cannons. She was scared and dived back into the sea. After a few minutes of blastingly beautiful color above the surface, she rolled her eyes at herself and went back up. The sound startled her again when she came up, but soon she was watching the fireworks in the sky being reflected in the sea, the sounds bursting, as happy as she had ever been.