Cloud

Silence was what Orm had grown to expect of his father. It was a two-way street; silence was what Orvax gave, and for the most part, what Orvax demanded of his son. But the path to Xebel was long, and Orm knew his questions couldn't wait until they arrived, so he spoke up.

"What is the situation, exactly?" he ventured. And then hastily added, "—Apologies. It's just that I've heard very little by way of details."

"You will see and assess it for yourself," Orvax replied coolly, "but by my own evaluation, it's…a disaster."

"Were there any casualties?"

"Something like this wouldn't kill us immediately, but the long-term effects could endanger everyone. Animals caught in the wake are dying right now, but we've got future disease to look forward to. It's very likely that you'll be watching the aftermath long after I'm gone and you've succeeded the throne." Orvax sighed, a rare show of emotion. "Nereus is much closer to the epicenter. He'll have a hell of a time if it spreads any further into the sea. But he's still got some of his youth left to fight it…"

The old tyrant trailed off and Orm couldn't delay his most pressing question any longer.

"Do we know whether or not it was intentional?"

"It's still impossible to tell. You may not realize this, but it's not the first time surfacers have gone spilling toxins into the sea. There were spills like this before you were born, just nothing so big." Orvax seemed to ponder his next words for a moment before letting them go. "Even if it was premeditated, I don't know if we should retaliate."

"Why not?" Orm said, once he had processed the statement. He'd wondered if he had heard it correctly—and if so, how could he believe it?

"First, answer this question. Do you think we're ready to take on the surface as we are now?" Orvax's response was passive, almost disinterested. Orm couldn't tell whether he was disappointed or not.

"I think…we could do it. Fighting only with Xebel at our side, we'd be at a numbers disadvantage, but we could still win."

"Incorrect," Orvax sighed. "And since you can't seem to grasp it, I'll tell you why. First, we need the support of the Brine and the Fishermen. It would be a nightmare to negotiate with either of them while fighting a battle with the surface, and yet we would need to retaliate swiftly if this was a real attack. There is one other reason," Orvax paused, and as the silence dragged on, Orm felt compelled to say something.

"Is it because…maybe they've laid a trap?" he ventured, unable to come up with any ideas more likely.

"You're close, at least. They could only attack if they know about us, and yet, they would have targeted Xebel or Atlantis directly if they'd known exactly where to strike."

"So they're baiting us? To get more information?"

"Exactly. I didn't raise you to be this slow, young Prince. Maybe you're less advanced in your learning than I had thought. Maybe I shouldn't have even left you in charge the other day." there was a note of melodrama in the old tyrant's voice, something theatrical and mocking. Orm thought for a moment, and realized that however real Orvax's disappointment might be, the wording was intended to garner some sort of spiteful response. He was being tested again, as always.

"Perhaps my zeal for my homeland drove me to foolhardiness," he admitted. "I only want to protect Atlantis. I am grateful for your counsel, father." Instead of giving a reply, Orvax simply nodded. Orm hadn't taken the bait, hadn't lashed out in indignance, no matter how cutting the words had been. He had passed.

They, with their small group of bodyguards, pressed on in relative silence after that.

When they had finally arrived in Xebel, it was sometime very early in the morning. Orm had fallen asleep multiple times on Dorci's back, but he was still exhausted.

They were ushered into the shell-like palace of Xebel by a handful of tired-looking serving staff, who were evidently the only inhabitants of the castle at this time. Orm was reluctant to leave Dorci with the stable-hands who had come to collect everyone's weary mounts, despite knowing that the grooms here were well-acquainted with her kind. After all, this is where she had come from.
Inside, the pale pink floors, polished smooth and pearlescent, reverberated every noise they made against the equally pink walls. This was some sort of reception hall, but it felt more like the inside of a clamshell. Small half-moon shaped windows situated around the upper half of the room would let some more light in once dawn arrived, which was just a few hours away. The travelers were led through this hall and down smaller branching corridors until they each had their own room. Instructed to rest as long as they needed, they were left to their own devices. Orm fell asleep before he had a chance to properly admire the white coral bedframe or round windows of the small room.

At some point, King Nereus had returned to the palace after overseeing damage control near the spill. Orvax, who had not slept, had joined him almost immediately. By the time Orm woke up, the two were deep in discussion. It was daytime again, but he couldn't gauge how late in the morning it was, or how long the kings had been speaking. Attempting to attract their attention from across the room, he was able to make eye contact with Nereus, who merely nodded.

Orm settled awkwardly at the edge of the room, tempted to sit on the floor. Before he could make a decision, the kings moved in unison towards the door, beckoning him to follow. Moments later, they were traveling again, towards the fringes of the spill.

"We won't go very far into the cloud," Nereus broke the silence. "My men have been monitoring the perimeter, unable to venture inside. It's growing slowly but steadily."

"What of the creatures inside?" Orm asked.

"We were seeing schools of fish emerging from the cloud at the beginning. Many of them were coated to the gills. We've been catching some and trying to clean them off." Orm still had difficulty picturing the cloud Nereus referred to, but he knew he'd probably do better not to ask about it. "The coral are probably dead."

As they continued, a faint and sharp odor began to permeate the water. As if it had appeared instantaneously, a dark and nebulous cloud of opaque water had appeared before them. Had they been closer to the surface, the brown slick would have filtered the sunlight pouring down into a sickly yellow color. But at this depth, there was no light. Brown flecks the size of Orm's fingernails began to float past, and the bitter smell was quickly becoming overpowering. Nereus halted, and so did his guests. Orm reached out to pluck one of the flecks from the water, and recoiled as the slippery, squishy thing hit his fingers. He gagged.

"Alright, Prince Orm. If you were king, what would you do to fix this?" Nereus prompted. The massive cloud before them seemed to be advancing outwards even now, threatening to swallow them whole. Orm did not know what to do.