It isn't true what they say; that the more often you experience pain the more bearable it becomes, that you become somewhat immune to it. After only a week of constant changes, Eric had become increasingly fearful at the day's end. Nastasya had told him that's he'd get used to it, that it wouldn't seem so bad after a while.
Such wasn't the case.
Shortly after his seventh birthday, Eric first attempted to ensure that the pain that came with changing form never again caused him anguish.
A Memory:
'Eric, come on my love we haven't much time,' prompted Nastasya, grabbing the previously prepared kelp and tuna salads from her kitchen. The sky above had slipped into a deep pink, and after two years she had developed a tendency to know exactly when the change would commence, most of the time managing to get Eric safely to the surface if not to the cave before it started. There had been several close calls in the beginning, especially with the coming of the winter solstice, and on a few occasions she had left it far too late. The change was swift, perhaps twenty seconds in total, not enough time, Nastasya had come to realise, to get Eric from the seabed to the surface.
Eric knew this too, and so the fact that he had made no attempt to move when she informed him of the approaching sunset bewildered her. Perhaps he hadn't heard.
'Eric,' she tried again, louder this time, 'we need to go now.'
Nothing.
'Eric?'
The seven year old sat at the foot of his bed, motionless, his head turned away from the woman who had cared so dearly for him these past two years. Had she been able to see his face, Nastasya would've been by his side in an instant; as it were, she remained by the door, waiting. He had been quiet these past few days, too quiet, even for him, and Nastasya hadn't been able to figure out why. How could she though; for the thoughts that assaulted the boy's mind were far darker than any seven year old should ever be able to begin to fathom.
Nastasya grew ever more worried with each passing second. When she approached him he pushed her away, when she asked what was wrong he began to cry, retreating into himself, and by the time Nastasya realised what he was trying to do it was too late. Eric screamed in agony, made a final weak attempt to refuse help… and then panicked, seeming to only then realise the true implications of his plan.
The look on his face as Nastasya bolted upwards with him in her arms was one that would haunt her to rest of her days. The sheer terror is his eyes the moment he found himself without breath so far from the surface, begging without words for her to do something.
Nastasya couldn't remember having swam so fast before… or since. She had made it to the surface, of course she had. Eric hadn't. He was too young, too weak. She had gotten him breathing again after half an hour, and uttered soothing words to him on the long swim to shore, whereupon she had held him close to her breast for hours, and listened to words she could scarcely believe.
He was only seven.
It was the spring of Eric's tenth year, more than half a decade after his arrival at Nastasya's secluded shack, although he didn't know this; to him it was a though he had lived there all his life, content asides from the crippling agony that assailed him every evening.
He was out stripping kelp, a bag his mother had made from an old sail and half the size of him hanging from his elbow, already heavy with what would later become his dinner.
This was a trip the young merboy had made every week for years now, the last dozen or so of which he had made alone whilst his mother soured the shipwrecks half a nautical mile north of the kelp forest.
It would be at least another hour before he was expected to return home.
But there was something he wanted to do before that, something he had wanted to do for months now. In his isolation, Eric had inevitably grown curious, and today he had decided to fill that curiosity, if only partially.
His mother had told him almost on a daily basis never to venture too far from the house, that it was exceedingly dangerous and he could easily become lost. But Eric knew the forest couldn't go on forever, he had seen its edge, if only from a distance, when he made the assent to te surface every evening, and had seen the soft glow that emitted from somewhere beyond. Perhaps there was someone out there who could help him!
The path he took lead him in that direction; what if he were to keep going? Would his mother be mad?
He had debated this many nights as he lay upon the sand in the shadows of the cave that had in many ways become a second home to him, the moonlit beach and twinkling lights of the coastal village enchanting him, enticing him. That was but another place he wished to venture someday.
Perhaps he should make a list, and tick them off one by one.
Placing his bag gently upon that seabed and tying the loose cloth that acted as a handle around the stipe of the nearest plant, Eric held his dagger out to his right and experimentally sliced through the next dozen in quick succession. Upon turning back he could clearly see a path of damaged kelp, one that he sincerely hoped would lead him back to familiarity once he had reached his destination… if he reached his destination. Realising the enormity of what he was about to do, Eric paused, wondering if he were brave enough, or whether he would turn back half way, suddenly too afraid of what might await him.
His life had been somewhat uneventful thus far, aside from the change he endured morning and night, but his mother had told him that nothing could be done about that. This was the first time he had elected to step outside of his comfort zone. What awaited him beyond the kelp forest?
Now there were two ways of discovering this: one, to ask his mother, something that he had done on countless occasions, only to be told that there was nothing of importance there, and that it was too dangerous a place for him to venture; and two, to go there himself.
He began at a measured pace, checking behind him every once in a while to ensure that the trail being left could be followed. A number of times he actually returned to the bag of kelp, just to reassure himself that getting back was possible. He had no way of knowing how long he had been swimming for, but soon the muscles in his tail burned, forcing him to stop periodically. It was a pain that he was used to, the changes from merboy to human and back again causing an almost permanent ache in the lower limb, one that was very much accentuated by movement and exercise. When he was younger it had practically paralysed him, though as he had grown older and stronger he had been able to regain the movement of his cobalt tail. There was no denying that it hurt though. This was the farthest he had ever swam without the assistance of his mother, and he was certainly beginning to feels the effects.
Still, he persisted, noting with relief that the kelp seemed to be thinning out somewhat.
After nearly an hour of navigating his way through the forest, of slicing kelp, the shadows that Eric called home gave way to open ocean. Limbs of sunlight penetrated the waves, reaching down as though the world above were extending a hand of welcome. A hue of blues and greens stretched as far as the eye could see, punctuated only by a cluster spectacular golden spires and surrounding… were they houses? Still panting from the exertion, Eric cast his scrambled mind to the coastal village beside which he took refuge each night. What he now saw looked similar, only far grander… magical actually.
Wary of his mother's warnings, the young boy remained hidden, peering out from behind the tall kelp, marvelling at the spectacle before him, though wondering exactly what dangers his mother spoke of. What he saw certainly didn't look hazardous.
It's easy to lose track of time when one's mind becomes limitless. Until now, Eric had known very little of a world beyond the kelp forest, and had only been able to fathom so many ideas given what little he had been exposed to in his life. But now… well, now he knew the truth of it, and could hardly contain his excitement. Whatever fear he had felt melted away as he regarded with wonderment the underwater kingdom before him. Perhaps there were merfolk living there as there were humans living in the kingdom above!
He remained almost in a trance for hours, questions and thoughts coming forth faster than he could consider them. But there was one questions that persisted.
Why?
Why hadn't his mother told him about this place? Why did they live in such isolation with such a magnificent kingdom only a short swim away? And, perhaps most importantly, was there somebody there who could help him?
Had Eric been able to see the palace more closely, he would have seen it's majesty in abundance; closer still, and such majesty may have been lost, for the mood within its walls quelled the initial feeling of awe almost entirely.
The King and his seven daughters lived mostly in silence, with the almost daily arguments between the sisters being one of the only instances when any sound at all echoed the many halls and rooms of their empty home.
The girls were nearing their teenage years, aside from Attina and Alana, who had already reached them, the former now spending the majority of her time studying for the day the kingdom of Atlantica would become hers. As she swam across the throne room once more, a vase balanced precariously atop her head, Attina began to wonder what trouble her younger sisters were no doubt causing.
Being the eldest, and with her father having become so distant, she had adopted the role of her mother, comforting the others when they became frightened or upset, as they so often did. The fourteen year old had steeled herself after the death of her mother, pushing away her own feelings of sorrow and focusing instead upon the task at hand. Her sisters would call her emotionless, and perhaps she was, but that was the way it had to be.
'Excellent Princess, that'll be all for today!'
Attina nodded, and thanked her teacher, placing the vase back on the table before making her way towards the room that she and her sisters shared, having no doubt that they'd all be there.
She heard the commotion the moment she rounded the corner, despite the long corridor that separated her from her squabbling siblings.
The Princess drew a deep breath as she entered the room, trying to determine what had happened.
Aquata and Arista were yanking a pillow back and forth, with Adella seeming to side with the latter, watching and shouting from the side-lines. Alana, who having only weeks ago celebrated her thirteenth birthday, was sat in front of a mirror, dabbing some greyish looking paste onto her nose whilst Andrina watched her with awe and anticipation, her older sister having already applied the product to her skin. Ariel, as usual, was nowhere to be seen.
'What is going on here?' Attina cried, raising her voice to be heard over the clamour and catching the attention of the five younger girls.
Aquata took Arista's lapse of concentration to snatch the pillow from her grasp, swiftly returning to her bed with it. This earned her a scowl from Arista, but nothing more.
It wasn't uncommon, for Arista to take something of Aquata's, in fact it seemed a form of entertainment for the young girl, and Aquata was an easy target. Ever since their mother's death and Eric's subsequent disappearance, she had distanced herself from her sisters. At first she had protested, insisting that they look for their little brother, but her pleas had fallen upon deaf ears, for at the time it hadn't been their biggest concern. Whenever they went for a swim about the kingdom with their father, she had searched for him, paying very little attention to her family. A few days ago, Adella had tried to strike up a conversation about boys and Aquata had broken down in tears, for only one boy came to mind, a boy she hadn't seen nor heard of for half a decade now. She missed him terribly, and it pained her not to speak of him. Alas, her father had demanded she forget him and, regardless of her attempts, she was beginning to.
Attina ignored her sisters sulking, knowing already the reason for it, and instead turned hr attention to Alana who, being the oldest beside her, should have been keeping a closer eye on things, on one little mermaid in particular.
'Where's Ariel?' she asked, pressing her lips together as she regarded Alana with cold eyes.
The teenager, who had managed to tear herself away from the mirror, glanced around and shrugged.
Attina sighed. This was the third time this week that Ariel had gone missing, the youngest daughter of Triton having long ago realised that she could entertain herself far better than any of her sisters. She remembered nothing of her mother, nor of Eric, and so didn't carry about her the same air of distress that her reclusive sisters did, making her by far the most popular with the residents of Atlantica. More often than not that was where the palace guards found her, making friends. And one day, though it was at this moment unknown, she would make a friend who would change her life forever.