Chapter 4 #2
Doren shot backwards, surprised by their mother’s words. She’d never done anything like this before. On the one hand, Doren hated that the news from above had scared them so thoroughly. On the other, Doren would not be a prisoner. Not under any circumstances.
“Father. Mother. I am more than a hundred years past the age of maturity. You have no right to hold me here.” Doren chose their next words carefully. “I love you both. But I refuse to be chained to the bottom of the ocean.”
Both Doren’s mother and father froze. Doren had never gone against their wishes, not in the many years Doren had been alive. But today they were rebelling, and they weren’t sure why.
Yes, Doren loved Linwood Falls and its delicious peppermint lattes, but a few decades of exile wasn’t much to a creature with a lifespan of multiple millennia. But Doren couldn’t allow it. The center of their chest was burning with anger and self-righteousness.
In a few decades, who knew whether Linwood Falls would be there? Who knew whether the coastline would still exist? Who knew whether Jake would still be there?
Hold on. What the hell was that? Doren had just met the man, so why would it matter if he were still in Linwood Falls in thirty years?
Doren’s father wrapped a tentacle around their mother’s torso, comforting her, before looking to Doren. He wasn’t angry, Doren didn’t think, but he also wasn’t happy.
“Tell us why, child. Is there a reason for your willingness to go against us?”
Doren grimaced, an almost imperceptible twitch of the area under their eyes. What could they say? They didn’t know themselves.
Before today, they would have grumbled, but they would have followed their parents’ instructions. Now, though…something had changed.
“My beach is there.” That was true. Right? Maybe not the whole story, but…
Waves of disbelief emanated from Doren’s parents, reverberating in their mind. Their mother’s tentacles were moving, curling and flexing, sending rivulets of water in a hundred different directions. Her fidgeting was a far cry from her usual calm.
“That can’t be all,” she said, a dash of anger and hysteria creeping into her voice. “You would go against us, risk exposure and violence from the humans, for the sake of a beach?”
“There’s more to it than that,” their father added. Doren had never seen their parents so uncomfortable. It would be so easy to acquiesce, not to cause waves. But Doren knew better. No waves meant no wind, and no wind meant your ship was stranded, unmoving, unable to progress.
“I don’t know. I can’t leave Linwood Falls alone. Not yet. I have unfinished business there.”
Blank stares greeted their words, but Doren didn’t add more. They didn’t say their unfinished business was more than friendly baristas and peppermint lattes, more than surfing and Christmas decorations.
They didn’t say there was a man, a handsome man, even if they’d only exchanged maybe twenty words with him.
They didn’t add that they couldn’t get the image of the man out of their brain.
He was forever playing on repeat in their mind, running after his kitten, his delicious body shifting underneath his red flannel as he dashed along.
His relief that the kitten had been saved.
His adorable discomfort at Doren’s flirting.
Doren couldn’t say any of that.
Eventually, Doren’s father tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You are an adult. It would be wrong to stand in your way. But…be careful.”
Doren’s mother’s tentacles clenched for a moment, and then a tremor moved through them. She recovered quickly, stilling her limbs, but Doren couldn’t tamp down the pang of guilt that welled up.
“Please don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger,” she said. “If I had my way, none of us would leave the depths until this current crop of humans were gone. But if you insist on going…”
She trailed off. There was nothing else to say. She was scared. But no matter what, Doren wouldn’t agree to this exile. They were already planning their next trip to the surface.
In one swift motion, Doren’s two parents headed off. Doren did their best to brush aside the remorse that filled them, but at the sight of their parents’ silent exit, they couldn’t shake off the guilt.
Even so, they wouldn’t relent.
Turning, they came face to face with Bard, whose eyes shone cold in the expanse of their midnight blue skin.
“Who are they?”
Doren stared at their sibling. What was Bard getting at?
“You’ve always been adventurous, reckless even, but you don’t disobey Mom and Dad. You don’t ignore warnings of danger, even if you toe the line occasionally. Something’s happened. Someone.”
A pulse went through Doren’s tentacles as they pushed themself a few feet away from their sibling.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Doren almost stopped at that, but after considering it, admitted something to Bard they hadn’t yet admitted to themself. “I’m lonely.”
Bard said nothing for a long moment. Doren assumed their sibling was judging them, and they didn’t blame Bard. Doren had loving parents. A big family. It made no sense to seek their loneliness cure among different species. Doren’s people were down here in the depths.
But they’d said it out loud, they’d named their loneliness, and there was no going back. Now that Doren had acknowledged it, it sat like a stone in the pit of their stomach. Their family was wonderful, but they were an adult now. They needed more.
After holding Doren’s gaze for a while, Bard spoke again. This time their voice was soft, compassionate and perhaps a little hurt. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope it’s worth it. If something happens to you, Mom and Dad will never recover.”
Would it be worth it? Doren didn’t know. That was the problem. They were causing all of this trouble for…a place? A man they’d met for all of two minutes?
“I hope so too.”