Sunset was soon turning to an early evening, as Jetsam led Absalon through the streets of Atlantica. The city was quite the sight to see, even in the dimming water as the grand coral buildings shone magnificently. Soon the lamps would be lit, and the city would come alive again in another way.

Absalon was quick to note the lack of life on the streets however. There was nary a soul in sight, aside from the occasional cecaelian guard who would be fraternizing with other guards, or be on patrol. What few fish-folk he saw were quick to avoid being near either him or the eel. They didn't hide their disdain for the two of them though.

The fish-folk's eyes were boiling hot with hatred, and their frowns were so deep it seemed as if they would rip off their skin. Absalon even noticed a group of youthful fish-folk gripping stones in their hands; if not for the passing of a patrol, Absalon felt the situation would have gotten very ugly fast. He paid no great heed to it though. He was well aware the resentment fish-folk had towards his kind, and was willing to put up with it. A few glares and threats were nothing to the years of cruelty delivered unto his kind. Now the tables had turned, and justice was finally being delivered to the oppressors.

As he and Jetsam were about to turn around the corner, Absalon was shocked to discover a revolting sight. It was a polyp, planted on the corner of the street by a lamp. Polyps were plant-like animals that stuck to the ocean floor and either kept to themselves or would become jellyfish in due time. They were considered the lowest form of pest, right next to barnacles and nematodes.

It's eyes were disfigured and uneven, either bulging outwards or caving into it's head. The skin was flabby, and covered to the brim in warts. It had a shaggy beard trailing down to the sea floor covered in a mossy substance. The creatures expression was that of utter despair as it looked at him and Flotsam pass by. When it realized Absalon was staring back, it quickly shrunk behind it's stalk

Absalon gave a vocal cry without even thinking about, "Ugh, that's disgusting! I knew the situation was not ideal, but could you people not afford some pest control?!"

Jetsam turned around and gave an inquisitive stare. When he finally realized what Absalon referred to, his expression turned into a mischievous smirk.

"Aaaah, I see you have spotted one of my mistress'... trophies," the eel whispered in an almost aloof manner. He slithered his way across the darkening street towards the thing and gave it a sly pat on the head with his tails. "When my mistress graced this city with her presence; the merfolk didn't take too kindly to her. Certain dissenters became particularly rowdy and sought to depose her from her rightful throne, but through her cunning, these dissenters were fished out of their hiding places and given their just reward.

Absalon's jaw dropped immediately. The implications of what this eel was saying seemed almost otherworldly. He looked again at the creature, who seemed to be attempting to bury it's head into the ground in order to avoid his gaze.

"Y-you mean t-t-to tell me that THING was a-!"

"Exactly," hissed the eel as he slithered away from the sorry creature.

"The queen has, that much power?!"

"It was more than power that won this city, good sir. If power was all that mattered, that brute Triton would still be in control. Now, if you may follow me sir, it's getting dark."

As Jetsam slithered off, Absalon couldn't help but give one more glance towards the polyp on the ground. It's sad expression bore greater meaning than ever before, as it sagged in place as if waiting for the world to end.

For a moment, Absalon couldn't help but feel even a twinge of pity for the poor creature. To lose all it's hopes and dreams; to have nothing left to live for but to feed on plankton while the world passed it by. There was no fate that could be crueler than that, even for a despicable fish-man. And for just a moment, Absalon couldn't help but feel conflicted about the queen's methods.

He put these thoughts to rest when he heard Jetsam call out to him to hurry up, and continued on into the city. As they passed along the wide streets, Absalon couldn't help but notice more polyps scattered about the city, looking towards him with their sad faces. The sight of them made him cringe in disgust, but he put them out of his mind as he saw the palace draw nearer.

To his surprise, the closer they approached the palace, the more lively the streets became. The houses became more elaborate, and the streets burst with life. Merfolk wandered about in droves, with many being caecilias. For every one fishfolk, there'd be three caecilias. They ranged in various appearances, from young to old, to ornately dressed and those who wore simple fashion. People fraternized with one another happily and without a sign of worry on their faces, and Absalon couldn't help but share their joy the more he looked at them. Even the sight of a wayward polyp was not enough to bring down his spirits.

"This is magnificent, I never thought I'd see so many of our people in one place and so happy," Absalon cried. "Are all these immigrants?"

Jetsam turned and gave him a surprisingly earnest looking smile, "If there is one thing to benefit from a rapid depopulation of a kingdom, it's that the former populace leaves a lot behind for others to inherit. They are all the families of the growing city guard. Soon they're numbers will extend to downtown."

Jetsam then turned his head towards the throng and gave a deep sigh, "The queen does amazing things that no one else can accomplish. Perhaps now that things are calming down, these decisions will continue…"

Jetsam's sentence trailed off into inaudible mutters at that point, and he seemed lost in a trance.

As Absalon looked upon the crowd swimming by, he couldn't help but notice his throat was backed up a bit. To see so many cecaelians in one place was incredible, and it only served to remind him how small his lord's province really was. It was a terrible place, where the sea was too warm, and the water murky. The land was unfertile, and tightly knit, with perilous rock formations and currents so strong, that houses would constantly have to be repaired.

Absalon's people were trapped though. He remembered the stories his parents told him long ago when he was just a little squid. He remembered them speaking of the evil king of Atlantica who brought down his wrath upon all cecaelias and left them to die scattered and lost. All because of some conspiracy some years back involving cecaelias, Atlantica no longer became a friendly place for them.

Now though, things were different. The land here was beautiful and cool with plentiful space for all his people, and he would make certain they got the benefits they deserved. The fish-folk would be key to earning those benefits, if his plans could come to fruition.

"Sir Absalon? Are you alright?"

Absalon's eyes shot open when he heard his name. He turned to Jetsam and attempted to regain a level of composure.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "Let's keep going."

The rest of the trip remained short, sweet, and in silence. Eventually though, Absalon noticed a spire of golden light, approaching him. As he drew closer, it grew ever more impressive.

Finally, he came at last to his destination; the palace.