Interlude
A Cage of Light
Mira
The upper spires of the Reef are a blinding cage of crystal and light.
Navigating the spiraling coral walkways, my blue tail propels me through the warm, sunlit water. I'm twelve years old. I'm a betta, a true Vael, bred for the Vanguard infantry and destined for the heavy iron spear and the perimeter lines.
But I do not care about spears. I care about the young mer swimming ten lengths ahead of me.
Vaelis is a Red. A masterpiece of biology. His flowing crimson hair catches the sunlight, flashing like polished rubies. His red fins trail behind him, long and elegant. He belongs in the light.
Pushing my tail, I close the distance.
"Vaelis!" I call out, my voice echoing off the polished stone.
He stops, his shoulders dropping in a heavy sigh. Turning to face me, he crosses his arms over his chest, his golden eyes filled with deep irritation.
"Mira," he says, his tone holding no warmth. "You're supposed to be at the training grounds. The drillmaster will dock your rations, you know—"
"I don't care about the stupid drillmaster," I say, catching up to him. I hover in the water, trying to catch my breath without looking weak. "I want to know where you're going. You skipped the morning formation."
"I am a Prince," Vaelis says, lifting his chin. "I do not need to drill with the grunts."
"You are vain," I snap, the insult slipping past my lips before I can stop it. "You only care about yourself and your status."
Vaelis narrows his eyes. The accusation stings his pride.
"That's a lie," he says, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I care about a lot of things."
"Prove it," I demand, folding my arms.
He hesitates, only for a moment.
"Come with me."
He turns, swimming toward the forbidden western ridge.
I follow him, my pulse racing with the thrill of breaking the rules. We weave through the shadows of the towering monuments, avoiding the guard patrols. Vaelis leads me to a hidden cave behind a curtain of thick, drooping kelp.
We slip inside.
The cave is small, but it holds foreign treasures.
The sand floor is covered in human goods. Rusted iron gears, shattered porcelain plates, and tarnished silver forks line the rock shelves. A massive, waterlogged wooden chest sits in the center, overflowing with strange glass bottles and water-damaged books.
"Where did you… find all of this?" I whisper, my eyes wide.
"The scavengers," Vaelis says, pride swelling his chest. "I trade them food from the royal kitchens. The surface is fascinating, Mira. The humans build machines that breathe smoke. They forge metal that cuts through stone."
Picking up a silver pocket watch, he traces the cracked glass face with his thumb. Obsessed.
"Do you plan to leave the Reef?" I ask, floating closer to the chest. "Do you want to go to the surface one day?"
Vaelis laughs, a harsh, realistic sound.
"That's a silly dream," he says, placing the watch back on the shelf. "We are mer. Our gills would dry out in the wind. We can only survive up there for a few hours. The surface is a death sentence."
The glass bottles in the chest spark a wild, dangerous idea in my mind.
"I want to mix potions one day," I confess, keeping my voice low. "I hate the infantry drills. I love alchemy. I read the old texts when the tutors turn away. Vaelis, I can figure out something to give you more time on the surface. A draught. A spell— Maybe I can go with you?"
Vaelis studies me, his golden eyes unreadable.
"I'll do anything for you," I say, the raw desperation spilling out of me. "Anything."
Recoiling, Vaelis drops his hands to his sides.
"Get a grip, Mira," he says. His voice is cold water. "You sound ridiculous."
The rejection lands like a physical blow, sinking me closer to the sand floor.
"Why do you not like me?" I ask, my throat tight. "Is it because my scales are the wrong color? Are my fins too small?"
Vaelis laughs, shaking his head.
"I don't care about any of that stuff," he says. "Color means nothing to me."
"Then who do you fancy?" I demand, desperate for an answer. I list the names of the prettiest girls in the noble houses. "Lady Elara? Cressida? Seraphina?"
Vaelis makes a face at every single name, looking nauseated by the suggestions.
"No one?" I ask in disbelief. "The court is throwing the spring celebration next cycle. Who will you ask to go with you?"
Vaelis sighs, turning his back to me to study his collection of human garbage.
"I'm not interested in courtship," he says.
"But you are a Red," I remind him. "The Council expects you to continue the breeding line. You are the future of the royal house."
"Breeding?" Vaelis scoffs, a bitter edge to his voice. "I am a fighter, Mira. I'm going to the Vanguard."
Swimming around him, I force him to face me, teasing him to find a crack in his armor.
"If you keep disobeying the natural order of things," I warn him, "you will lose your status. Stealing trinkets? Refusing to court the ladies? The Elders will punish you."
"Not possible," Vaelis says, his chin held high. "I am a Red. I have the blood of the deep. I can do whatever I want."
I study his absolute confidence. He defies the entire world without a second thought.
"I like your drive," I whisper. "I look up to you. I want to be like you." I pause in thought. "Does that mean I can pursue potions? Can I study alchemy instead of the spear?"
Vaelis grimaces, the playful arrogance draining from his face. He offers a genuine warning.
"No, Mira. That path is different."
"Why?"
"Alchemy corrupts the blood. If you feed your foolish fixation," Vaelis says, "you'll rot in the dark. Just like the evil witch."
The forbidden danger fuels my curiosity.
"What witch?" I ask.
Lowering his voice, Vaelis leans in close. The shadows of the cave dance across his scales.
"They say there's a monster living in the Silt District," he whispers, spinning a terrifying tale.
"She was once a young mer, like you. She dabbled in dark potions.
The magic twisted her biology, to the point she no longer appears to be a mer at all.
She is a horrific abomination. She lives in the dark, feeding on the desperate. "
He tries to scare me, using the tone young boys employ to frighten their peers.
I'm not scared. I'm intrigued. A mer who defied the Council and bent magic to her will. A mer who carved her own power, and her own path.
We part ways outside the cave.
Vaelis swims back toward the royal spires, his crimson tail disappearing into the glittering light.
I don't report to the training grounds.
Turning my tail, I swim down.
Leaving the warm, sunlit waters of the upper city, I swim toward the lower docks, where the light fades and the water grows heavy with cold.
I'm searching for the old prophet.
Thalos the Elder sits alone on a rusted iron pier.
He is ancient. His scales are the color of oxidized copper, a muted, beautiful green-brown. His fins are tattered and long, floating like torn kelp. His eyes are golden, his white hair trailing behind him.
Swimming up to the pier, I grip the rough stone edge.
"Thalos," I say, bowing my head.
The old mer looks down at me. His bright eyes crinkle at the corners.
"Little Mira," he rumbles. His voice is a deep, comforting scratch in the water. "You are missing your combat drills. The Vanguard will not be pleased."
"I have a question," I say, ignoring the warning. "About the witch in the Silt District."
Thalos loses his smile. Sighing, a heavy sound stirring the silt around the pier, he bends his long body down to my level. Despite his age, his movements hold a fluid, enduring grace.
"Curiosity is a dangerous game in the Reef, child," Thalos says. "Playing with such things leads to severe punishment here."
I frown. "What do you mean?"
Thalos stares out toward the dark drop-off of the trench.
"The Council demands perfect order," he says. "I am a storyteller. I share the old histories. I speak the truths they wish to bury. They have never been happy with me, little one. I am a loon meant to disrupt their perfect, quiet control."
"But we cherish your wisdom," I argue, my young mind struggling to understand the politics of the adults. "We all gather to hear your stories. Why would the Elders be unhappy with you?"
Thalos places a slim, scarred hand on the stone near my fingers.
"Because I teach you to question the cage," Thalos says, his voice a murmur.
He meets my gaze.
"Forget your childish desires for alchemy, Mira," he warns. "Forget that arrogant young Red. Vaelis will travel his own dangerous path. You must follow the rules. Obey the drillmaster. Or else, watch me today. Let my fate be a brutal lesson to you in going against the grain."
A cold knot of fear forms in my stomach.
"But— What have you done?" I demand. "I'm scared for you, Thalos. What will they do to you?"
Thalos laughs, a dry, fearless sound.
"Don't worry, child," he says, waving a dismissive hand. "I am a single, old Vael. I have learned the hard way that I cannot change what is happening to our home. I cannot impact the tide. I am a nuisance. I am to be silenced."
He leans closer.
"They fear the truth," he whispers. "They fear the bettas rising up against the Council. They fear me, because I speak my mind and I have no fear of their spears."
He stares into the dark water.
"I go to trial tomorrow," he reveals. "They will find a way to break my spirit. But they can't scare me. I have nothing left to lose. I despise the ways of the Vael. I have lost all hope in our kind, Mira. Maybe this is the way it must be. The strong eat the weak."
The finality in his voice breaks my heart. Tears blur my vision, mixing with the salt of the sea.
"That's not fair," I sob, gripping the stone pier. "You are good."
"Life is not fair," Thalos agrees. His eyes soften.
"So you must decide, youngling. You can control your own destiny, knowing you must do so under threat of danger, and make the most of the short time you have.
Or, you can die an old soldier, following every rule, never knowing what your life could have been. "
He strokes his mossy beard.
"I tell you this to keep you safe," he says. "I don't want you to experience my fate. But the choice is always yours."
"The Council is trying to take care of the Reef," I argue, clinging to the lies I was taught. "They protect us from the monsters."
Thalos laughs, a bitter, hollow sound.
"Oh, are they?" he says, his voice dripping with heavy sarcasm.
I nod my head, desperate to believe it.
"Good luck, child," Thalos says, reaching out to place his hand on my small shoulder.
"I am old and bitter," he confesses. "The hope and justice I fought for have failed. I accept my dark fate. But I hope you will make the right choices in your own life."
I turn to leave, my mind a chaotic swirl of fear and rebellion.
"Mira," Thalos calls out, stopping me in the water.
I look back.
"I knew your parents well," Thalos says, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "They were two brave mers who died on the ridge after you were born. You carry her rebellious spirit. Your mother also harbored a profound fascination with potions."
My breath catches in my throat. My mother remains a complete stranger to me.
"She loved a lot of things she should not have loved," Thalos says. He gives me a sad, knowing look.
Leaving it at that, he turns his back to me, staring out into the endless, silent void of the trench.
I swim away.
The next day, the Council guards drag Thalos from the docks. They punish him for the crime of free speech. They take the wise storyteller and lock him away in the dark.
He becomes a recluse. The Reef forgets his name.
But I never forget.
As I grow older, the training hardens my muscles. The Vanguard teaches me how to thrust a spear and hold a shield wall. I become the perfect soldier.
But in the quiet hours of the night, I slip down to the Silt District. I search for the glowing cave. I search for the magic my mother loved. The old mer makes more sense to me with each passing cycle.
The Reef is a cage.
And though I stay quiet, I am tired of the silence.