33. 33 #2
I understand that feeling—of something being kept from you, especially by someone you care deeply about.
When I found out my parents weren’t my biological parents, I was furious for so long.
I wanted to run away. But eventually, I realized they chose to love me when my own parents couldn’t. “I know that feeling.”
“We've searched the entire kingdom. We cannot venture past the barriers, and I fear that's where he's gone.”
“How many sea days has he been gone now?”
“After tonight, it will be eleven.”
My eyes go wide. My timing must still be off. I’ve been trying to keep track ever since Orion and Nyxalene told me how old they were.
“This is going to sound stupid—” That’s a dumb way to start a sentence, Sarah. “How long have I been here in Virellan? I’ve done the math in my head. It was the beginning of August when I gained these powers, and I know we spent several weeks training for Current One—”
“Yes, you were slow.”
“I’m ignoring that.” I roll my eyes. “And Current Two is roughly a couple months, so that would mean I’ve technically only been here for about four months?”
“Well, no. Not exactly.”
“Wait—what do you mean?”
“Time here is a funny thing. Within the barrier, it moves faster than one would think. One surface day still measures out to three sea days. But one sea day actually equals about one hour on the surface.”
The concept wraps around my brain more times than I can grasp. This completely blows me out of the water. My hope of being home before the holidays . . . before my—
“Nyxalene, how long have I been here?” I ask. My next question hangs by a thread, waiting on her answer.
“I'm unaccustomed to how you land-dwellers track time,” she says, “but I would assume somewhere around nine or ten sea months.”
My mouth falls open. “I missed it . . .” I whisper, my heart sinking as my body follows, lowering to the floor.
“Missed what?” Nyxalene asks.
“My birthday . . .”
This year, I was supposed to celebrate at Lucky Gold’s Irish Bar with Leo and my parents.
To kick off another great year of school—my final one—and turning twenty-eight.
I’ve been so overtaken with everything thrown my way here in Virellan, my thoughts have drifted far from everything I worked so hard for on the surface.
“Your birthday?” she asks, as if the idea itself is foreign.
“Yes. A day to celebrate the day you were born, typically. Though I do not celebrate the same as others.”
“What are some things you do on these days?”
“Well . . . for me, I mainly get drunk.”
“Drunk?”
“Yes, drunk.” A small laugh slips through my words. “A drink that makes you inebriated. I usually only do it when I want to forget things for a while.”
“Oh. I have the perfect place for you, then.”
Nyxalene drags me halfway across the kingdom, refusing to tell me where we are going. I stopped asking questions the moment a grin spread across her face when I mentioned wanting to get shit-faced.
I never imagined getting drunk under the sea would be something I’d experience, but when we arrive, I watch Nyxalene inhale a large bubble of gas, and within seconds, she becomes completely different. Almost relaxed.
“With Orion gone, and not being confident in whether he will return, I'm supposed to inform you that you have his permission to return to the surface if you would like.”
I turn to face her, shocked by her words. Orion knew he would be gone for a few days, but to assume it could be longer than that . . .
“I mean, I always knew I'd be going home eventually, but the threat is still out there, and with Orion gone . . .” I hesitate. “I feel like I would be abandoning him—and Virellan—if I didn’t stay to help.”
“Without him here, I'm not sure you can help. You'd be more of a liability. And I say that in the nicest way possible.”
Why does this feel like she's trying to get rid of me? I pause, processing the meanings behind her words and Orion's orders to Nyxalene.
“Give me a few more days to decide what to do before I make a rash decision on something so major. Unlike when I came here to Virellan, I would like to think I can actually choose what I want to do this time.”
She simply nods, taking in another gas bubble. She holds it for a few seconds before releasing it into the water before us. We sit in silence now, perched on the edge of two jagged stone rocks.
My mind drifts through the many possible endings—what could happen if I stay, and what could happen if I don’t.
If I stay, I could help fight, but without Orion’s guidance, I’m not sure I could reach my full magical potential.
And if I go, I would get my life back, but I would always wonder what happened here, and whether Orion ever returned.
Surely he would come to find me, wouldn’t he?
My thoughts are interrupted.
“Are you going to try, land-dweller, or have my assumptions about you been correct this whole time?”
At the base of the rocks we rest on, several cold seeps dot the sea floor.
Small cracks and openings in the sediment release streams of bubbles in all sizes, some no larger than grains of sand, others large enough to hold my attention as they drift upward.
They rise through the water, occasionally popping before reaching the top of the dug-out cave we relax inside of.
The cave is no bigger than a few feet on each side and tall enough to accommodate my size. Algae coats the surface of the cave, casting the space in a slightly darker shade than I'd like, though it isn't much of an issue given my ability to see better in the dark.
“You promise it won’t hurt?” I ask, skeptical of the mysterious gas. After years of studying, the only known gases below the surface are CO2, air, and methane, but the latter is definitely not safe for consumption.
“If it were not safe, I would not be on my third intake,” she says confidently. “Orion and I used to come here all the time, but after the duties of being king took over, he hasn’t come to enjoy this with me in a while.”
“You know this is the equivalent of getting high where I’m from?” I smirk at her, realizing she’s the general of this kingdom, partaking in a leisure activity . . . not exactly professional in my book.
“Whatever it is, I do it sometimes to release the stress of being second in command all the time. I didn't choose this life. It was forced upon me.”
I wish I understood that last statement.
An unspoken secret she has yet to reveal.
I understand not wanting to share it, though.
And with that shared understanding, I push past my hesitation as a new bubble forms at the base of our tails.
It rises to my eyeline, and I take a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds like she did before and releasing it when my chest starts burning.
Within seconds, my head feels lighter, and the constant chatter in my mind fades. When I glance at Nyxalene, something feels off . . . disorienting. I laugh. Over and over again. Her face blurs, her eyes no longer quite matching.
“Careful, land-dweller, this is your first time,” she says, but bursts into laughter the moment she finishes her warning.
I don’t know when she became comfortable enough to bring me here, or to laugh with me, but I don’t take it for granted.
And when I wake the next morning, unsure of everything we talked about, I hold onto one thing—I’m certain we’ve grown closer .
. . even if our time together may be coming to an end.