Early in the morning, it was easy, to get lost in the rays of light that danced down through the water, splashing across the reef. The light played across the corals and sealife that called the reef home, entrancing the young merman. Getting lost in such a display was something he'd been doing for most of his life, despite his family rather much preferring he pay more attention to his tutors and the political activities his father and brother got into. Telius had learned, however, many years ago, the political stage was not one he was made for. Unlike them, they who were so serious and practical, the youngest prince of Atlantis enjoyed exploring, learning new things, and discovery. Mermish politics and training to lead someday (as if Telius would - Aeneas was both eldest son, and better suited to it, and Telius had no doubt he would be the next king), these things simply were not on Telius' list of things to deal with, this day. Actually, more accurately, they weren't on the list any day.
In their ways, Aeneas and their father, King Aenon, both seemed so disappointed in Telius' interest in everything but his princely duties. Yet, he did perform a function that royalty should, that his brother and father never did. He mingled, he met the commoners, he saw what they dealt with everyday. Some called Telius the People's Prince, as he was always out interacting with someone outside the Atlantean court, provided he wasn't getting stuck in coral structures or scoping out a sunken ship. One would likely presume, someone born to such a high station as Telius was, the court and its inner workings would be far more interesting, more homey to him. Certainly, there was no shortage of things to do. Atlantis was the first Mermish settlement to forge a relationship with Sims, the creatures that sort of looked like mermaids, but walked on two legs on the land.
Even now, hundreds of years after the Atlantis that had graced the skies on the surface had fallen, no thanks to clashing with Sims of the time, the Atlantean royal line had interest in Sims. Modern Sims had progressed technologically in ways that the ancient Sims were incapable of at the time. Atlantis had been a very forward-thinking, progressive kingdom, and that much had not changed. They knew, in time, Sims would find the merfolk again. Someday, the Mermish settlements would have to decide how to deal with Sims again, how to live in peace, or they'd have to go to war. Many Atlanteans were concerned that, someday, the same tragedies that befell Atlantis before would occur again. Sims were not known for their hospitality, or their tolerance, and the concern was not unfounded.
King Aenon's advisors had warned against establishing contact with Sims again. Even if, by some miracle, it went well, the other merfolk and settlements could well take offence to their return to the shores. Lemuria, especially, would feel slighted. Lemuria, which fell from the surface back to the waves not long before Atlantis did, Lemuria, that had followed Atlantis to the surface to begin with, Lemuria, that had lost much, and yet given more to help the Atlanteans recover. Telius knew, someday, word would reach the Lemurians that Atlanteans were associating with Sims again, after all that had happened, and it threatened to explode with the force of a geothermal vent that'd gotten clogged.
Truthfully, Telius wanted nothing to do with it. He had his own opinions and ideas about the entire situation, but fortunately, his father had not asked, neither had Aeneas, and Telius was certainly not volunteering. He respected their decision to return to the surface, he even understood why, and he also respected Lemuria's decision not to, and understood why. This all could only end in tears, and perhaps too much blood. Telius was not about blood, not really. He much preferred the company of tranquil corals and lazy fish.
As he watched the dim strands of light dancing on the coral, the fish and other marine life that called the reef home began to stir and awaken. One hand reached out, brushing against the side of a fish, gently, as it lazily swished out of its anemone home. Telius could see, somewhat easily in the dim light, as merfolk had long adapted to the often poor lighting conditions, clusters of eggs hiding within the reef's many nooks and crannies. The anemones swayed gently in the water, the only indication of a gentle current beneath the constantly moving waves above. Down here, even the most dangerous, turbulent storms didn't reach and disturb the peaceful, constant ebb and flow. The darker depths of the sea were even more untouchable, quiet and solitary. They were peaceful, in their ways, but also terrifying, and dangerous in more ways than one. Merfolk typically did not traverse so far down. Their eyes were not adjusted to quite that poor lighting, and the ocean density eventually began to threaten their lives, but no one ever really called Telius smart.
He'd only traversed so far down once before. He'd nearly gotten killed on accident, that venture. Just as he realised how screwed he was, and the panic began to set in, a hand reached out from the dark, took hold of his wrist, and pulled. It had taken a few moments, to figure out it was only his brother, and that he was safe, but, it was, perhaps, the most terrifying few moments of his currently somewhat short life.
Aeneas had never cared for Telius' wandering. It was probably more that Aeneas couldn't understand why Telius wandered so much. The older merman used to tell him that someday, he wouldn't come back, and Aeneas said he was good at finding his brother, but insisted, someday, it wouldn't be good enough. It was all intended to make Telius fear the unknown, fear going so far, he was sure, but he never stopped. It was the only thing that was his own, the only refuge from the courtly intrigue many would kill to experience, but Telius never asked for and honestly couldn't keep up with, most of the time. Aeneas was made for politic and tact. Telius was not. He still had not figured out what he was made for, but it wasn't the role he was born to.
His wanderlust, exploring the sea, learning and discovering, all went back to Telius' strong desire to escape all of this. To leave this insanity behind. Would he wish merfolk could live on the shore, like they did so long ago? Perhaps not. Most merfolk grew up on the stories of the fall of old surface Atlantis. Would he wish he were born in another Mermish settlement? The thought had crossed his mind, on more than one occasion. He'd never admit this to his father, even Aeneas, who was so unlike him, it was honestly a miracle they'd ever gotten along at all. Sometimes, the pressure of even just being an Atlantean at all got to him.
Of course, Telius loved his people, he loved his family, Atlantis' rich history and strong culture. He wished that someone, either he, or someone else, could find a way for it all to live on in peace, alongside the other histories and cultures that found root on this planet. The merfolk were not alone, and never had been, though it was easy to believe that they were. Telius only wanted the best, and hoped to avoid another war. If their clashing with Sims in the past had taught anything, it was that Sims were not to be underestimated. For all their lacking advancements, where Atlantis had been impressively technological, the Sims had still won in the end.
Yet, no one won in war. There were only the dead, not winners.
A blurry, dark shadow hovered just out of Telius' clearer vision. He could sense that shadow, someone, or something, watching him. Telius held very still, hoping it would get interested in something else, and go away on its own. Usually, they did, presuming they were a fish of some form. However, the shadow seemed to spot him, despite his colours blending in with the coral reef well, and turned, moving closer. Telius didn't think about it, as quick as his tail would go, he darted in a nearly random direction. Perhaps he could outswim it.
"Don't," a distant voice keened through the water. Telius stopped, recognising it, though the interest in fleeing did get even stronger.
"Aeneas," he greeted, turning back around, letting the current move him closer as it would.
Aeneas slid through the water, more gracefully than Telius had ever moved, or more so than he thought he did, coming to a stop not far away. He hovered just slightly higher in the water than Telius did. Aeneas always did that, like he had to be higher than everyone else, for whatever reason. Telius used to wonder if he didn't have an inferiority complex, but, his brother wouldn't have one of those.
For a moment, the two eyed one another, Telius in vague curiosity, though if you knew him, you'd recognise it more as his even expression, used when he'd rather be anywhere else but didn't want to offend anyone, and Aeneas with a rather blank expression. Telius recognised this look as his brother trying to decide what to say, and how to say it. He was the one that thought before he spoke, deliberated before he did anything. Telius simply dove into everything head first, and hoped for the best.
Aeneas was a more mature form of handsome than his younger brother. His expression was usually serious, but he had well-defined cheekbones, obvious muscles, and neat, short platinum blond hair. He wasn't as pale skinned as their father, but he had the same faint dusting of freckles across his nose, brilliant blue eyes, and his tail scales shifted from silvery white to a shimmery gold. There were plenty of Mermish females that were interested in him, even a few males, but he had no interest in what he called 'distracting frivolities.' If you asked Telius, not that anyone did or would, Aeneas could really use to get lai-
"King Aenon has asked for us," Aeneas stated, tone flat and blunt. "Both of us."
"Ah," Telius answered. "You could just tell him you couldn't find me." It was a futile suggestion. Aeneas was unlikely to go for it.
"I do not make habit of lying, particularly to his majesty," Aeneas replied, one eyebrow quirking upward. King Aenon was not exactly mer-fry, after all. Decades old, he could tell when one wasn't being particularly honest. Aside from that, Aeneas wasn't very skilled at the art of lying, or even simply mincing words. He was harsh, but he was honest, and he was fair. He would, if ever given the opportunity to do so, make a decent king, a worth successor to his father.
"Of course, well," Telius went on. "You could turn the other way, and I'll make my daring escape, and that will be that."
"Telius," Aeneas deadpanned, tone flat and perhaps a hair annoyed.
"Right." Telius heaved a sigh, and he couldn't help it when his eyes rolled, just slightly. "Fine, I get it. Coming."
"Good," Aeneas answered. "I'd hate to spend too much time on arguing with you. We both know it is a fruitless adventure, and I wouldn't want to keep the king waiting."
Telius' features scrunched up in displeasure. Aeneas insisted on referring to their father so formally. At times, Aeneas kept that formality, even when there was no one outside the family to hear. It probably had something to do with that politics and public face thing Telius didn't entirely understand.
He couldn't help the annoyance. Whatever it was father wanted, it probably wasn't good, but the fact Aeneas had found him at all made his hair stand on end in irritation. It was not as if he was easy to find. Unlike his brother, Telius had a darker tan, perhaps more of a baby-face, with less sharp features, currently more rounded. His nose was a little bigger, eyebrows a bit bushier, and his golden blond hair was notably messier. His tail shifted from a pale sea green, to a shimmery deep blue, making him blend into coral reefs and other marine plants much easier. Yet, somehow, his brother still found him, every time, even when Telius decidedly did not want to be found. And now they were off to talk to their father about Poseidon only really knew what, and Telius dreaded it. He always managed to say the wrong thing.
Aeneas tilted his head, and then turned. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to, for Telius to get the idea, and somewhat sullenly follow.
"Our interest in Simlish culture and civilisation will, undoubtedly, cause strife among the Mermish settlements," King Aenon was saying. Telius stood at a lazy attention beside his brother, floating there almost effortlessly. Aeneas was far more engaged in what the king wanted to talk about, and Telius had honestly begun wondering why he was even here. It wasn't as if the king spoke at any sort of length about these sorts of things, not with him. Much to his pleasure, but that was an ill-kept secret.
He'd asked them both to his throne room. King Aenon only did so when he was speaking to them not as a father, but as a king. The throne room wasn't much, at least, not by two-leg standard. It was carved and broken out of rock and long dead coral, with pieces of living coral and tubular sponges decorating the area. Clams and oysters, a few sand dollars, scattered across the sea floor. Coral polyps had begun climbing the carved stone structures. In a few dozen generations, there'd be another reef, here, on top of the one they were already on.
"Nevertheless," King Aenon went on. "My curiosity in regards to their civilisation's advancements only grows. We must learn to live alongside Sims; it is inevitable, that our two cultures will come back into contact with one another someday, someday quite soon, and the future of the Mermish settlements depends on how that contact goes."
"Our preliminary scouts have found very little to suggest the Sims can be trusted, or lived with," Aeneas pointed out. Telius had heard of these preliminary scouts. Sent to the surface only to watch and observe, to learn, the scouts kept their eye on coastal Sim settlements, and reported back to King Aenon. Yet, Telius couldn't help the sinking feeling that merely observing wouldn't be enough. There was no telling how they'd react, until they were given the opportunity to actually react.
"Yes," Aenon agreed. "But neither have they found anything to suggest they cannot be. Sims are inherently complex creatures, Aeneas. You can meet ten, and still find more that are surprising. They are all unique. We will find opposition, Sims that cannot be trusted whatsoever, but so too will we find allies."
"But will we find enough allies," Aeneas grumbled, his light blue gaze falling, incidentally, in the direction his brother lingered in. Telius made a helpless gesture. He didn't want to be involved in this conversation. He had very little to add. Much of this fell firmly into the category of 'political muck Telius doggedly avoids.'
The king glanced between his sons, pausing in his apparent pacing. "You're particularly sour this day, Aeneas," Aenon noted. "Did you have to chase your brother around to get him to come?"
"Fortunately, not really," Aeneas answered coolly.
"This must be a first," Aenon chuckled.
Telius looked perhaps a hair offended, but, he couldn't deny the king was mostly right. Very rarely did Aeneas manage to wrangle the younger merman, and bring him back home, when his presence was requested, without having to dart around coral reefs and jellyfish blooms. Telius never wanted to go home when it was required that he did, and had a nasty habit of making his elder brother work for the privilege of returning him.
Sometimes, it was better not to say anything, particularly in conversations like these. Telius kept his mouth shut. Much of the time, he felt less like a necessary component, and perhaps more like a well-braided kelp wreath. It was, of course, decorative, an interesting conversation piece, but there wasn't much to the function. What did one do with a kelp wreath? In Telius' world, you ate kelp, you didn't braid it into a wreath.
"Telius, what say you on the matter?" Aenon asked, looking at his youngest. "I'm sure there's something in that mind of yours."
Of course the king would ask that. Telius' lips shifted to one side, perhaps thoughtful, or perhaps merely pensive. His mind went over what little of their conversation he'd understood. Telius was not particularly skilled with words. Some said he was, that diplomacy was in fact quite a strong suit, but Telius had never felt that way. Still, he couldn't lie, or simply not answer. He was speaking with King Aenon of Atlantis - while sometimes, it was better to keep your mouth shut, there were other times when that was the worst idea you could get.
"I... I understand, your majesty, why you chose the approach you did," Telius began, choosing his words carefully. "Sims are dangerous, in their ways, if their previous destruction of our kingdom is to be taken into account, and certainly, in dealings with them, we should. However, I don't feel as if merely watching them will tell the full story. We won't ever really know if we can find a way to live in peace with them by merely sitting back and observing them. One can't know how another will react to something, until they've had the chance to react. I'm sure you understand the risks that poses, however. I won't mention them." Telius paused. "Perhaps it isn't the best option, your grace, but I think it may be the only option that gives real answers."
Aeneas almost looked surprised, his eyes widening just a small amount. His brother understood all this much better than Aeneas had first thought. The king, however, did not appear quite as taken aback as his eldest son. Instead, Aenon floated almost absent-mindedly back and forth, one finger tapping his sharply-chiselled nose in thought, crystal blue eyes turned downwarnd and framed by swirls of pale platinum blond strands. Aeneas looked like their father. Telius, however, looked like their mother. Aenon's scales shimmered from icy blue to a deep purple, with glimmers of gold scattered across them in the light.
"Yes," Aenon agreed, finally. "I suppose you're right. I have an idea, if you two are willing to play along. I'd ask someone else, but I trust you two not to let word of this leak. We wouldn't want Lemuria catching current of it."
Aeneas couldn't help but shoot his brother a cutting glance, partly annoyed, and partly exasperated. It sounded as if he'd just gotten them into something dangerous. The youngest of the Atlantean ruling line was, after all, quite gifted at this. Telius recoiled, just slightly, under his brother's sharp gaze.
"What is this idea?" Aeneas asked. He had no choice but to hear the king out.
"You two will live among the Sims," Aenon answered. "We need to know if we can integrate, or they can be trusted to know of what we are. The future of merfolk depends on this. Can I trust you two to take this task for me?"
Yet again, Aeneas shot his brother an annoyed glance. Of all the things to ask them to do, Aeneas couldn't say he'd been expecting such a request. Their father wasn't known to be particularly present in the head, he was rather old by now, you see, but neither was he quite that gone. Perhaps that had changed, at some point, right beneath their noses. Telius made a face back, now also somewhat annoyed, in part because it seemed Aeneas believed that was his intended outcome. It had been an accident, and that wasn't entirely what he'd meant. Try convincing mister grumpy-tail of that. Living among Sims, he said. Like that couldn't possibly go wrong.
But it would be a decent escape from the things that drove him crazy, down here. Up there, he could get his exploration, his discovery, his learning. This entire mission would be a nonstop learning adventure!
"I'm up for it!" Telius practically chirped in response, somehow quite suddenly no longer so subdued.
Aeneas' gaze narrowed, before it turned back to the king. "Fine," he decided. "If he goes, I should go. And keep his tail scales out of trouble."
King Aenon chucked. "Ah, yes, one thing Telius has always been good at, no? Getting into trouble, that is." His tone was more amused, than admonishing, a child-like glint in his eyes. The elder merfolk all said King Aenon had once had a rather impressive appetite for adventure himself. For all that the princes looked like one parent, they took after the other in personality. Telius had gotten the taste for learning and adventure. Aeneas, on the other hand, had gotten their mother's refinement and grace, albeit he had also inherited the predisposition toward suspicion, and habit of brooding, from their uncle. Their mother was long gone, now, but Queen Tisiphone had been a lovely woman of grace and poise. Long flowing golden hair, beautiful green eyes, and a shimmering pink tail, she'd been as beautiful as she was intelligent. Sometimes, Telius regretted that he wasn't more like her. It did, however, have a side-effect of keeping her memory special.
"It's kind of a speciality," Telius murred.
"Too much of one," Aeneas groaned. "You've turned it into an art, little brother."
"Well, I have to think up some kind of artistry," Telius retorted. "It isn't as if we have many options for art down here. Paintbrushes don't even work."
"What's a paintbrush?" Aeneas asked.
King Aenon let loose a vibrant, jovial laugh. He reached over, patting his eldest son on the shoulder. "My dear boy," he said. "Perhaps this time, it may be your brother keeping you out of trouble."
The decision had been made, and it was clear that it was rather final. Aeneas was ever displeased at this turn of events, glowering at Telius whenever they were in vicinity of one another, yet he had chosen not to say anything. Likely, he did not want his displeasure at the idea of living among Sims to be made obvious to their father, but it was clear as the waters to Telius. He knew what his brother felt on the matter, yet now that he'd agreed to go, he couldn't, in good conscience, back out now. It would be a stain on his honour, in a sense, to change his mind.
Telius was determined not to let his brother's sour mood get him down, though he did have plenty of his own concerns about the arrangement. He still had not intended for things to turn out quite this way, but he knew better than to argue with the king, and often, things turned out in ways he didn't intend, anyway. He was rather accustomed to this.
Telius was not quite as experienced as his brother. Aeneas had visited many other Mermish settlements, learned the ways of other merfolk, the different cultural richness of other ancient sea kingdoms, and had travelled from one end of the ocean to the other. Telius had barely made it farther than a few dozen miles outside of the Atlantean border. He'd been to Lemuria, once, when he was younger. It was quite the swim, and thanks to a few unfortunate wording mistakes, his father hadn't seen fit to take him back. It suited Telius just fine. Aeneas was the one that did these things, not him. So how had he gotten roped into it?
Gently propelling through the water, Telius made his way toward the outer ring of Atlantis. Despite his father never approving of the relationship he had with Sandra, he couldn't help but feel as if, in a world of glittering words, lavish celebrations, and well-worded back-handed compliments, political games, and tactical thought, the world Telius was born to, but was never made for, Sandra was the only one that really understood. She was fair-haired, like his family were, her tail gold to red, blue eyed, and light skinned. Some thought her as beautiful as Telius did, but unlike them, Telius had chosen not to tell her. She was lower class, a mermaid of almost nameless blood, and wouldn't do for a prince's mate. Telius had only brought it up once. His father had said nothing at all, but he knew never to bring it up again.
Telius didn't care, but of course, his family did. He did have to wonder, though, whether or not his mother would have minded quite as much as his father did, and Aeneas probably would. He was smart enough not to use what he thought his mother would feel on the matter as fuel for an argument. King Aenon was never quite the same after he lost his Queen, and mentions of Tisiphone caused near breakdowns.
He found Sandra soon enough, tending the kelp. Atlantis had a large expanse of kelp and seaweed, growing just inside the ring of coral around their kingdom. Lower classes tended the kelp fields, ensuring other creatures did not nibble on them, or get caught in them, for that matter. He slipped over to her, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling against her neck. Sandra giggled, quietly, as always she did, finishing what she'd been working on, and reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair.
"Had a long day?" she asked. Telius grumbled against her skin.
"That's a way of putting it."
"That bad, huh?"
"You know how terrible I am at being princely," Telius answered, his tone dry. He perhaps sounded a bit annoyed, more at himself than anything.
Sandra loosed a sigh, shifting around in his grasp to face him. "Telius, you're not terrible at being princely." She brushed his hair back, turning him to face her. She liked seeing his eyes. "You're just good at different things than your brother is, that's all," she went on. "And there's nothing wrong with that. It doesn't make you bad at it. Really, it's a good thing. If you are good at different things, you and your brother will make a good team, someday, cover each other's weaknesses. No?"
Telius smiled, albeit it was more of a wistful smile, a touch amused, but it was only just so. "How do you always know what to say?"
Sandra hummed. "You just can't see what I can see," she answered.
"And what do you see?" Telius asked. He'd never ventured to ask that, before, though he'd certainly been curious long before now.
Sandra went quiet for a moment. Telius was almost nervous, but after a moment or several, of narrowing her gaze at him and thinking, Sandra smiled, softly. "I see a young man that hasn't grown yet, into the role that he was made to play. A young man still trying to find his place, but he has a good heart, and a good head. He'll get there."
"That was a little kinder than I was expecting," Telius admitted.
Sandra laughed. "What, did you think I would insult you?"
"No," Telius shook his head. "I just wasn't sure what kept you talking to me. I'm still not."
Sandra smiled, tilting her head. "Sometimes, it's a better idea if I know that, and you just wonder."
Perhaps she was onto something.
He hesitated, a moment, before heaving a sigh. He trusted Sandra, and he didn't think she'd tell anyone. But he did want to talk about it, with someone that wasn't either his father, or his brother. Both would undoubtedly judge him, in some capacity, and he didn't want to have to live it down with Aeneas, or have his father's confidence in him damaged. Still, the arrangement was weighing on him, and sooner or later, Sandra would figure it out. If he couldn't trust her, then who could he trust? They'd been friends since they were teenagers, just learning to swim on their own.
"My father gave Aeneas and I a special task," Telius began.
"Oh?" Sandra asked, interested. This did explain his radiating nervousness, and she was honoured, usually, that he kept her in the loop of his life. She wanted to be a stable, supportive part of his life. He couldn't exactly turn to his family, and it was something Sandra thought she was good at. Perhaps, more accurately, she simply hoped she was.
"He wants us to live among Sims for a while," Telius explained. "Don't tell," he added quickly, in a hushed tone, one hand raising to his lips. "If anyone heard about it, it could spell disaster."
Sandra frowned, following his lead and lowering her voice. "What in the world for?"
"It's pretty likely that someday, we're going to come back into contact with Sims," Telius elaborated. "They're expanding relatively quickly, and eventually, they'll explore the sea further, find our hiding places. This is the last place we can go. We can't go deeper into the ocean, it'll kill us. It's inevitable. My father wants to know if we can live among them in peace, again, or if war is also inevitable. It'll help him decide what to do."
Sandra's eyes darkened considerably, at the mention of war. Atlantis and its oceanic allies had once before waged war with Sims. But, Sims were smarter and more adaptable than the merfolk had initially given them credit for. It had cost the merfolk several settlements, and all of their land was either lost, or reclaimed by Sims. None of the merfolk remembered how to speak Simlish. Likely, the language had even changed over the last many years. Mermish certainly had, from what she remembered of the old stories. Was this even safe? Gambling with his sons' lives that way, what if something went-
She was getting ahead of herself. She shook her head. "I don't think that's a very good idea," she said. "But, I understand I can't change his mind. So, be careful? Please."
Telius loosed a sound that seemed amused, but it had a thread of strain in it. "I always am," he answered.
Ah, but he wasn't, and Sandra knew it.
He shouldn't have ever told her that.
She continued on with her days, as always she did, even after Telius and Aeneas had left for Starlight Shores. No one knew, of course, no one but her. She'd watched them swim off in the direction of that specific Simlish settlement, and then went back to work like nothing was wrong. The other Atlanteans believed they were off to some other Mermish settlement, for some odd political reason, but Sandra knew better, and oh, how she wished she didn't. Her fingers kept fumbling, her concentration was constantly broken, and it wasn't strange to find her staring out over the boundaries of the reef, into the dark blue sea that extended far beyond Atlantis, farther than her eyes could see.
It was rare, that Sandra ever felt anything similar to frustration with Prince Telius. He was sweet, a bit goofy sometimes, somewhat clumsy, and a little socially inept, but he had his own form of charm to him. He loved his family, and Sandra always thought he'd make a decent father, someday, if given the chance to be one. Telius had a strange, old-world way of going about things. It only added to the charm, made it a bit less of a boyish charm, despite his beliefs otherwise. Sure, he was a bit rebellious and a trouble-maker, but most young merfolk were. He'd calm down sooner or later; it was part of growing up. Once, even Sandra had been a bit rambunctious.
Now, however, she had his upcoming extended contact with Sims to worry about, on top of his own graceless stumbling into trouble. Sandra had long accepted she'd fallen for him, in her way, but she also knew their pairing would never be approved, and had never dared to ask him to try. Neither had he said anything about trying on his own. Telius was entirely outside of her reach, and she knew it. Like trying to catch one of those loud birds that roared in the sky, it just wasn't going to happen.
They'd met by chance, one day at market. She was selling decorative seashells, jewellery she'd made herself, and the Prince Telius had stopped by to look at her wares.
"Is there anything in here that you like more than the rest?" he'd asked her, smiling his boyish smile.
Sandra had frowned, slightly, but she'd eventually pointed to a necklace, made out of a Venus shell. "This one has a nice colour to it," she'd said.
Telius had bought that one, and a bracelet made of strung together cerith and cantharus shells. He'd kept the bracelet, but he'd given the Venus shell necklace back to her, and said it was a gift.
She knew even then that he was entirely outside her grasp. It didn't change her feelings, though. She worried about him, perhaps a little too much. Telius had told her they were meant to be heading to some place called Starlight Shores. Sandra had seen glittering mazes of lights and noises that made no sense, scents that held no meaning and were pungent and unpleasant, as a younger mergirl that had strayed too far from her mother. Even now, many years later, just the thought of those places, the shimmering lights that were too bright, and the noises too loud, sent chills down her spine. She didn't hate Sims, though she wasn't fond of them dumping that thick, black stuff into the water a lot, or any of those weird objects she found floating in the water, shimmery silver things stuck in the sand, those weird, clear bendy loops that fish and other marine animals sometimes got stuck in. It wasn't a matter of hating Sims, it was a matter of not trusting them, and perhaps a little of being afraid of them.
Sandra wondered how Telius wasn't scared. He was more courageous than he thought he was. No one could say the Atlantean backbone hadn't ended up in him, because it certainly had. She remembered several times, him facing off with jellyfish and sea snakes, barracudas and sharks, and he didn't think it all that extraordinary. It wasn't anything Sandra could have done, that was for sure. It was easy, when he was there, to believe that everything would be okay. That it'd all work out okay, in the end, things would be fine, and eventually, it'd all return to normal. Now that he was gone, though, Sandra couldn't help but wonder what would happen, after Aeneas and Telius returned from Starlight Shores. Would they return at all? It seemed only logical, that the next step after this, would be returning Atlanteans to the surface, back to the shores they were driven from so viciously many generations ago.
The stories had been told many times. The merfolk all told their histories through stories. After all, keeping written record simply wasn't a particularly worthwhile endeavour, when the ocean on its own was so corrosive. Eventually, their records would erode. There were stones and former coral reefs that were covered with indents and markings that, once, had been pictures the merfolk had carved into them. But over time, the sea washed it all away. The stories everyone told, you see, were still there, remaining almost as racial memories that were soul deep.
The tales of Atlantis' fall from the surface, the war between merfolk and Sims, they were most well-known. Likely, also a little embellished, but even toned down, they were... frightful. Sandra didn't want anything to happen, to either Aeneas or Telius. She cared for both, in her way, as the princes of Atlantis, as her friend.
They could take care of themselves. Likely, Sandra was just getting worked up over nothing. She huffed in annoyance, setting the jewellery pieces she was working on this time down. Neither of them were particularly unintelligent, and she'd meant what she'd told Telius. What one lacked, the other had. They would make a very good team, if they worked together. Yet, that was the key, wasn't it? Would they work together? Sometimes, the brothers were terribly antagonistic toward one another. She had to believe, though, that if things truly turned for the worst, they'd look out for one another. It wasn't like they didn't care for each other, simply, Sandra believed it to be some form of sibling rivalry. Sandra had never had siblings, she wouldn't really know. Perhaps it was, more accurately, 'sibling envy,' as they both seemed to envy the other for something.
Her fingers idly went back to weaving the seagrass together, wrapping around the shells. The princes were different, almost polar opposites, but it didn't mean one was 'good' and the other not. Aeneas had the tactical abilities and the political thought, but Telius had the charm, diplomacy, and the way with words. If they teamed together, they would be as near unstoppable. But could she let their future, their safety, ride on that, and only that? Their ability to put aside their differences and work toward a common goal seemed flimsy a foundation for either of those to stand on.
All of these thoughts, swirling around in her head, they were becoming stressful, too much so. Even her friends and parents had begun to notice her distraction. Sandra was often distracted, to some extent, after a visit from Telius, but this was different. Sometimes, he said she was what kept him sane, got him through everything, but it wasn't her. He had the ability to work things out for himself, he just needed an encouraging nudge in the right direction, at times, an ear to listen, a shoulder to lean on.
Sandra couldn't honestly fathom what was going through King Aenon's head. Sending even just one of his sons to the surface was quite dangerous, but both? If something went wrong, and both the princes of Atlantis were lost, it'd be quite a blow to the kingdom's already shaky morale. Losing them could even trigger civil war, or even just war with one of the more upstart settlements, that wished to replace Atlantis as the most important kingdom under the waves. Aenon was ageing, and not entirely gracefully. Some surmised his mind was beginning to go, and while Sandra couldn't say whether it was or wasn't, she certainly wasn't too sure an entirely sane man would gamble with his sons' lives this way.
She gave up. Disentangling herself from her work, Sandra swam away, out toward the endless expanse of blue. Atlantis was settled alongside a coral reef, that had formed in something of a circle, upon an undersea shelf. The shelf dropped off in the centre, not far, though, and again at the outer edge. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you might catch sight of a very far off whale, or a school of fish, perhaps jellies. For a moment, she just breathed, watching the light filter through the water.
If she couldn't stop Aenon, if she couldn't change his mind, maybe she knew someone that could. It needed to be someone more important than her, far more important, someone whose words held dearest weight. Yet, would she want to break Telius' trust that way? This may ruin their friendship. Still, if it meant he lived, if it meant he and his brother came home sooner, and never went back to the shore, perhaps it was worth it. She would rather have him angry with her, than dead. Who knew what a Sim would do with a merman. They ate the fish they captured, or put them in a glass box to look at, and the thought of either of them on some Sim's plate, or living a life in a glass box in some rich Sim's dwelling, it made her sick to her stomach.
Sandra zipped off into the blue, beyond the shelf and the boundaries of the reef, the boundaries of Atlantis, toward where she thought was Lemuria. She had to stop Aenon, before it was too late.
Notes: Hellooo, and welcome to my latest fanfiction venture. I know this may be a little disappointing for those that follow me because of my Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfics, but this is a bit of a change of pace, and something I've had muse for now on three years. This is a very old story, years in the making. I will eventually return to The Badger: Northern Star, I promise, just, not today.
This story is based on the background that I came up with during the "prologue" generation of my first Sims Legacy Challenge, this being a mermaid legacy. Instead of just taking a Sim fresh out of Create-a-Sim and making a Legacy out of them, I moved an existing Sim out of her family's house, on her own, and ran with it. Things happened, inspiration hit, a story formed in my head for the family. Here is that story.
Because the Legacy Challenge is something you play normally, and honestly can't really rig due to the no cheating rule, this story, once it reaches generation one, cannot be outlined, so I'm just making story out of what happens in the game.
Enjoy.
If you are curious, and would like to see pretty pictures, and read the Legacy's current progress, check out their house, their Legacy graveyard, family tree, meet who is who, put faces to names, it does have a blog on Wordpress ( Google wordpress love seashells and kelp, first result should be it [kinglegacyts3] ). I am currently rewriting all the entries in story narrative form, instead of the journal style I've been using, and they're very likely to end up here, as a continuation of this story, but for now there are some pretty lacklustre and honestly occasionally embarrassing works of journal-writing on the Legacy's progress on the blog for now ( I can do so much better than that, I have no idea why I didn't from the start ).
For those unfamiliar with the Sims Legacy Challenge, for... whatever reason, it is a no-cheating, start-as-a-single-hobo challenge to go from rags to riches, and play the same family into its tenth generation. You start with a large residential empty lot, and 1,300 Simoleons, and... you pray. There's a lot of praying. Lots of "Don't send me a robber, don't send me a robber, pleeeease don't send me a robber..." Generation two of this Legacy has been born, and they are defined as rich by the game, now, so they're doing well.
Aenon was never made in the game, nor was Tisiphone, but Aeneas, Telius, and Sandra, were, though I do not count these three in terms of the challenge itself.