Crown of Thorns

Epilogue

The Priestess, The Shore of the Mainland, Day 138 A.F

I'd always been drawn to the water. I'd always worshipped the tides. I wished nothing more than to feel the tranquil sea tickle my limbs, embracing me, rocking me as I dozed in the gentle waves.

But after being trapped for nearly five moons beneath the surface, my skin begged to be dry, to feel the warmth of the sun. I'd fled the shore of what must have been the mainland, wanting nothing more than to see another human. Anyone. I needed to talk to someone living, someone who'd respond to me. I'd spent far too long listening to voices and carrying one-sided conversations with my peoples' corpses, or the fish I ate raw.

No matter how desperately I burned for human contact, I dejectedly reminded myself that I was no longer human. While my watery body had solidified upon meeting fresh air, those iridescent scales still clung to my arms like gloves. Sharp, blue fins still protruded from my elbows. Muscular tentacles dangled from my waist, flanking my legs; they skittered around me, almost of their own accord.

Any sane person I might find would surely run, deeming me a beast. I couldn't blame them for that sentiment. I'd already decided my sanity had left, by the time I reached the surface my body matched my madness.

What would Atlantis think of me?

I'd discovered a cave, or rather, little overhang of rock to offer me some semblance of shelter. With my golden trident, I'd even managed to spear a small snake. The meat went mostly to waste; though I struggled for nearly a day, I couldn't create even a spark of fire.

Starving, I curled up on the ground, shivering in my meager shelter. I was a constant prey to ravenous terror, urging me to slink back to the ocean's protection. But Matthew Matto had promised that some Viper had Cyprian, and, somehow, I knew whoever the Viper was, wouldn't have taken him to the water. If I secluded myself under the water, not only would I be abandoning the most important person in my life, but I'd doom myself to perpetual isolation. Normal people didn't live under the water, and, while I could, I knew I couldn't survive alone. I was bred, not just to lead, but to mingle and interact with my citizens, to be friendly and social. Alone, my mind swam in total darkness.

Even a sea monster such as myself needed company.

Nestled in what was to be my home for the foreseeable future, I could still hear the ocean. No, not hear it. Feel it. My heart beat with the crash of waves on rock. I could feel the tickle of each fish flipping its fin, pick out the shapes of marine life or sunken ships, identify each object as easily as if I ran my hands along them.

If I had such a kindrence with the water, why couldn't I have prevented that damned flood? Why couldn't I have at least foreseen it, predicted it early enough to have planned something, warned my people, saved them.

I was their queen. It was my duty to use all of my power to protect my people. That included magic powers. Perhaps I'd been blessed with these supernatural abilities specifically to protect my people from the Flood. Whether they were specifically for that purpose or not, I surely could have done something. It was my fault they were dead.

My mind drifted to the ever-warm Lady Angelique. That sweet woman painstakingly arranging bouquets of corals and seaweed for my coronation, or any other Atlantian event. She wouldn't rest until every leaf and branch was placed exactly in accordance to her marvelous imagination. It was my fault she was dead.

Memories of kindly Mister Tabolmon, the palace buttler, swam to the surface. He was something of a grandfather to me, always ready with a reassuring nod when I needed. With an unwavering hand he commanded the palace staff with such ease I believed he should have been crowned king, despite the fact that he'd never desire the throne. He'd have much rather organized a feast than a country. His death was because of me.