As a child who grew up in the Calamari County, music had been engraved into Craig Cuttlefish's life since the very beginning. The beauty and mystery of the classic folk songs of the county pumped through his body alongside his ink.
Like all the children of the county, the melody of the Calamari Inkantation had flooded his ears when he first came into this world.
Mysterious yet beautiful...
Serene yet wonderful...
That heavenly melody...
Cuttlefish's head snapped up as the loud horn of a boat vibrated through his ears, and he looked around, disoriented. Oh yes, he was atop Mount Nantai, the only place in the whole world where it seemed he could get some quiet.
He chuckled. Maybe that wasn't even true anymore. The inkling sighed contentedly, taking a deep breath of fresh, mountain air, Cuttlefish pulled his instrument back on his lap, calloused fingers plucking at it's strings experimentally.
The inkling came atop Mount Nantai not just for his usual relaxation session, but to work on his music, something he did not want anyone to know he did. Hailing from Calamari usually left you with some sort of musical talent, but Cuttlefish knew he had very little of that. Making something of yourself in the City of Cephalopods needed a special something, a spark, and Cuttlefish knew very darn well he did not have that.
He loved making music, and writing songs, and singing them, even if he wasn't the most gifted singer on this side of the mountain. Cuttlefish didn't even care if he was tone deaf, because what in the cod was loving something if you didn't quench that love?
So once a week, he came atop the mountain, watched the little boats sail by, and the sunset, and practiced. Not for anything in particular, just because it was something he loved. And he didn't mind if it was kept a secret.
"We're so sorry, Cap'n. The Commander Prince DJ Octavio Takowasa has declined your invitation to visit. Again."
Jet rolled his navy eyes, crossing lanky arms. "Could not say I am not surprised," he mumbled. "Plus, three titles?" The inkling leaned back in his chair. "One is enough even for me."
Shelley nodded her head, long pink tentacles bouncing with the movement. "I second that. He seems downright obsessed with himself!"
Hands placed on his lap, Cuttlefish just sat in silence. He knew that the Octarians had a strong military force, stronger than the City's. They had expressed interest in collaborating before, so why did their leader keep declining?
"if he seemed so adamant about wanting to join forces, why hasn't he wanted to be in contact?" Ammoses Shellendorf continued, looking up from his blueprints.
Cuttlefish furrowed his brows. So Ammoses and him were on the same page, eh? More than anything he wanted to establish good relations with the new Octarian leader, Octavio. Not much was known about him, other than the fact that he was, of course, the son of the former leader High Commander Queen DJ Muir. Cod, Jet and Schelley were right. These Octarians and their titles, Cuttlefish mused.
"I heard something about him not wanting to participate in any government relations!" Schelly gossiped, blue eyes wide. Ah, yes, Schelly lived for gossip as an urchin lived for conning people out of their money.
Jet nodded, arms crossing. "Apparently he just sits around all day training with his weapon, playing music!"
The Captain rolled his eyes. Where were they even getting this information? "You two'll believe anything that has eyes," he accused, frowning. "Prince Takowasa has had a tough life. His mama just passed on, I'm sure he's been grieving real hard."
Schelly's mouth shaped itself into a gaping hole. "If that's the case, he's been grieving for nine whole months now!"
"Cap'n, I think you're forgetting that he's only one year younger than you," Jet remarked, cocking a navy brow. "He's nineteen years old. He isn't a child."
"That doesn't mean he's not allowed to grieve," Ammoses responded, voice confident as he looked up from the blueprint. "You know, you are talking to two orphans," The clam looked to Cuttlefish, brown eyes warm and inviting.
The inkling nodded. "Yeah, I s'pose so."
Schelly sighed. "No matter." She took a deep breath, tossing a rose-coloured tentacle over her shoulder. Hazel eyes scanned the room as Cuttlefish cocked a brow. That was Schelly's thinking face, alright. When that face came out, they had to prepare themselves to be launched onto the other side of the planet. "So Princey won't come here, eh?"
Silence overtook the room as Schelly paused.
"Why don't we just go up to him?" She suggested, cheshire grin plastered on her face.
"We can't all just parade on up there, Schelly!" Jet mumbled, shooting a glare at the pink inkling. She stuck her tongue out at him in response, Jet's navy blue eyes rolling.
"He does have a point," Ammoses agreed, small hands expertly rolling up a blue print. Schelly frowned, looking at the horseshoe crab. He smiled awkwardly, glancing away. "I-I mean, m-maybe he's right. I don't know."
Cuttlefish nodded, pale orange tentacles bobbing with the movement. "I agree with ya' Jet." Cue Schelly glaring at him like he was the worst squid in the whole City. "Sorry, Schelly."
"Better," she grumbled, crossing her arms, her old wooden chair creaking as she leaned back.
The captain smiled. "Now that that's all sorted out," he started, using an elbow to lean on the table. "Who's goin' up there?"
It was silent for a moment.
"You should, Cap'n!" Ammoses exclaimed, throwing his blueprints onto the floor.
Gold eyes widening, Cuttlefish went stick straight, surprised. "What? Why me?" That was unexpected. Usually one of them would like taking the glory for themselves.
Jet rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time in five minutes. "Are you forgetting you're the captain here?" Cuttlefish rolled his eyes right back. Sometimes Jet could have quite the attitude.
"You should totally go!" Schelly agreed, mood completely changed. "You're great at convincing people to do things!"
"With my wits and good looks?" Cuttlefish teased, already knowing the answer.
"No!" the whole table said in unison, before breaking into laugher.
When the laughter died down, Cuttlefish spoke again. "Come on, Octavio's gonna think I'm the most handsome squid he's ever seen!" the inkling joked, tightening his scarf.
Jet smiled, a rare occurrence. "More like the only squid he's seen," he started. "I don't know if he's ever stepped a foot outside of that palace."
"Well Craig'll be the one to fix that!" Ammoses chimed in, a wide grin stretched across his face. "If you're going, that is."
"Of course I'll go!" Cuttlefish announced. "I set sail for Mount Nantai tomorrow!"
Octavio grunted, flinging his octobrush at the targets. His muscles ached from practicing all day, but he knew he had to do it to get everybody off his case for playing music.
He looked around, two down, one to go, before noticing a target on the other end of the field. Spreading a patch of purple ink, he changed into his octopus form, coming onto the target at lightning speed before coming around from the side and flanking it.
Transitioning back into his humanoid form, Octavio smirked. He may have not been the most keen on battling, but he had certainly been improving lately.
A loud clapping noise sounded from behind him, and Octavio's head whirled around—and a short...well-fed octoling was standing there. It was his advisor, Kiawe. All of the joy in him suddenly deflated. Kiawe was a massive killjoy.
"Brilliant job, your highness!" he praised, large mustache concealing his grin. "I told you getting away from that music and onto the training field would help!"
Octavio huffed, untying an ankle piece. Kiawe was a bother. "I've heard it all already, Kiawe," he muttered, throwing the piece of the armour to the floor. "Would you mind helping me with my chest plate?" The octoling requested, trying to be as...tolerant as possible.
Kiawe nodded. "Yes, yes, of course, my prince!" The larger octoling exclaimed. A tug could be felt as Kiawe untied his chest plate, gently placing it upon a table.
A deep sigh came from the older octoling as Octavio turned around. His face was scrunched up in a look that could only be described as...nostalgic? Octavio cocked a brow. "What?"
"You have grown so much, Prince Octavio," Kiawe smiled, putting his hands behind his back. Octavio smiled back. Kiawe could be bothersome most of the time, but this was the man who had raised him, when his mother had not been around. "I remember how the whole world felt when you came into it." Kiawe shook his head, short tentacles bobbing with the movement. "They said us men couldn't do anything."
Ever since Octarian culture had been established, the female had always been seen as the stronger one, meant for war, standing on the front line. Octoling men, however, typically had jobs as doctors and engineers, working on things that were more behind the scenes.
Octavio smiled softly, knowing that his story truly meant something to Kiawe, whom had wanted to become a soldier, but instead became an advisor. That was, of course, one of the only things Octoling men could do back in Kiawe's prime. "I'm glad things have changed."
"Prince Octavio! I have a matter to discuss with you, very quickly," An Octoling soldier donned in the classic Octarian armour announced, long red tentacles swinging behind her.
"Oh, we'll be there!" said Kiawe, eying Octavio strangely.
Octavio forced a smile, really just wanting to get back to his room and work on his music. "Of course," The prince muttered, putting his helmet back atop of his head.
The octoling nodded curtly. "Follow me," the soldier requested, leading them over to a small meeting room.
"Wait, wait, wait—Who is coming to meet with me?" Octavio questioned, raising a brow. He didn't exactly like the diplomacy side of becoming king.
The Octoling soldier– Octavia, her name was. Parents must have been a fan. Glanced down at a sheet of paper, copper eyes darting across the words, she cleared her throat. "The Captain of the esteemed Squidbeak has requested to meet with you at this palace in two day cycles. No question."
Octavio bit his lip. Fantastic. He had been trying to avoid talking to the inklings for a while now, declining their offers to meet for months. The truth was, diplomacy made him...nervous. He had little to no conversation skills and could barely get his way around politics. He was so, so unprepared. Octavio slumped back into the chair he was seated upon, groaning. "Do I have to?" the prince deadpanned, crossing his arms tightly.
"Your Highness, you are forgetting the importance of communication with our allies," The soldier started, crossing her hands behind her back. "If we want to keep this world peaceful, this is a task we must carry out."
Kiawe, who had followed him there for some unknown reason, nodded in agreement. "I've heard all of your woes about diplomacy, Prince Octavio. Sometimes the only way we can get rid of our fears is by facing them, yes?"
Octavio rolled his sapphire eyes. Oh how he wished he could pull his mother up from the afterlife and force her to come back to get him away from this. "Yes, of course."
The octoling soldier smiled, writing something on the piece of paper. "Then it's settled. I'll inform the folks down in the City that they will finally have their opportunity to speak with us."
Octavio sighed, slamming his face into his desk. This was going to be absolutely terrible.
The rhythm of the waves roared in Cuttlefish's ears as he sat near the edge of a dinky sailboat, staring at the streaks of pink and orange painted across the sky as the sun set.
He smiled softly, corners of his thin lips turning up, the peachy colour of the sky reflected in his pupils.
Tomorrow, everything would change. He would make sure of it. This was going to be absolutely wonderful.