The Kingdom of @Retold and @WattpadFairytales

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"Far from home, aren't you, Princess Ariel?"

The horned sea serpent's voice reverberates inside my head. He peers at me, his eyes gleaming with hunger—for my defeat or my flesh, I can't tell.

"What of that?" I ask out loud, brandishing my spear.

I didn't come here to be a monster's meal.

The ceramarist laughs darkly. "You know only the safety of Abyssos, but your laws have no power here, where there are creatures who would be only too glad to devour a merprincess. We have not feasted on royal blood in centuries."

His veiled threat sends shivers through me.

I cast a nervous look around, tightening my grip on my spear. I am alone with the ceramarist, but maybe I shouldn't be so sure about that. Anything could be lurking beyond where the light gives way to darkness; watching, waiting.

At that thought, my lungs squeeze closed. I feel like I'm on dry land, suffocating.

I turn back to the monster.

I can't let it get into my head. If I do, it has already beaten me.

The ceramarist slithers through the water towards me, its segmented bone-white horns glinting. "The ocean would talk of poor Princess Ariel dying at a beast's hand, the bones resting in the depths of the Dead Waters the only evidence of her existence."

"Enough!"

I hurl my spear. It slices through the water. With a dull thud, it bounces off the ceramarist's scaly head.

So that's why legend says these monsters are impossible to kill.

I gulp as my spear sinks into the inky blackness of the ocean.

The monster is unharmed.

I am unarmed.

With a flick of my tail, I dive after my trusty spear. The monster's laughter echoing in my mind spurs me faster. The ceramarist's jaws await me should I be too slow.

If I knew the sorts of creatures that gave the Dead Waters its name, I might have heeded my Father's warning and avoided this part of the sea, so far from his rule and protection.

But Abyssos is dying. I see it in the sickly pallor of my people, in the coral being bleached of their bright colours every day. While Father consults his advisors, we are running out of time.

The dried sea-flower on my wrist reminds me of that. Although wilted now, it was lovely once.

My sisters laugh at me for wearing it still, but it's the last flower I picked before everything in Abyssos began to wither. It represents what we have lost but can reclaim.

Only the return of the stolen Ocean Song to Abyssos will make this right.

With that thought, I snatch my spear and face the ceramarist, even as everything within me shrinks back in fear.

With a roar that echoes to the furthest reaches of the ocean, the enormous sea serpent turns its small, cruel eyes on me.

The ceramarist strikes, snapping its jaws. I fall back to avoid it. I aim my spear at its fleshy underside—the only chink in its armour. Before I can attack, the ceramarist knocks me off course with its tail. In the moment it takes me to regain my bearings, the ceramarist's body spirals around me.

My rising panic paralyses me. Before I can escape, the deadly coils of the monster's body tighten around me.

My tail is trapped, leaving my arms free to use my spear, but the ceramarist is out of my reach.

I'm dead.

I should've stayed in Abyssos. I should've left this to Father and his men to solve. They know what they're doing. I don't.

I am going to die before I restore the Ocean Song, thereby dooming my people.

I flinch as the ceramarist bellows in triumph. It opens its maw so wide that I can count each of its sharp, glistening teeth. There must be hundreds of them—terrifying, but not enough to make me surrender.

It reaches down to take a bite of me.

I plunge my spear into the floor of its mouth until it protrudes from the top of the monster's head like a third horn.

The ceramarist cries out, the sound distorted with raw pain. It sputters before going still, falling like a fluttering ribbon into the blackness that had bored it and taking my spear with it.

No matter. I have a spare strapped to my back.

I watch as the cermarist disappears, dazed at the sight, at the death my hands have wrought.

I can't dwell on that for too long, however. The witch siren is away from home, leaving me with a rare opportunity.

My oldest sister has invited her for supper under the guise of negotiating for the return of the Ocean Song. They are meeting in neutral territory—somewhere far from Abyssos and the Dark Waters—so that I wouldn't be caught halfway.

Their conversation can only last so long. The witch siren wants her voice to be the loveliest in the sea. No matter what we offer her, she won't return the Ocean Song.

We must take it back by force.

I swim up to the cave entrance.

I may have slain a ceramarist, but my sister is braver than I am. I wouldn't like to meet the witch siren. She possesses beauty and an ethereal singing voice, but her years of loneliness have driven her to dark magic and given her time to master it.

She couldn't find me in her lair. All she could know was that the Ocean Song was mysteriously returned to Abyssos. There's no telling what revenge she would wreak on the kingdom if she suspected we tricked her.

I enter the witch siren's dark lair. The only light emanates from an underwater ledge. A soft humming trills through the water—the voice of the Ocean Song—but it's coming from all directions. Something is wrong.

My eyes adjust to see an oyster with a glowing pearl sitting on the edge of the sandy shelf closest to me. There's a line of them arranged in a curve along the ledge.

My gaze sweeps over them. One of these oysters holds the Ocean Song within it, but they are identical. How can I tell the difference?

All hope curls up inside me, as black and dead as these waters. I have come this far, but the witch has outwitted me.

She stole the Ocean Song by sheer cunning. I should've known she would clutch it close to her with the same wiliness.

An idea zaps me like an electric eel.

The other oysters must be echoing the Ocean Song, but what if they don't share its power? The Ocean Song gives life, something the imitations shouldn't be able to do.

I hold the dying sea-flower on my wrist in front of the nearest oyster. In the tender embrace of the Ocean Song, the sea-flower stays dry and lifeless. I move onto the next oyster, holding the sea-flower out in the same way.

I move down the line, testing the power of so many oysters and failing that I wonder if I had been wrong. Just when I'm about to give up, the sea-flower in my hand blooms to life in all its orange and red finery. I watch, enthralled.

Never have I seen life blossom before my eyes. My mind grasps for words to describe the beauty, but it finds nothing.

I lift the oyster that rejuvenated my flower. As I withdraw it from the collection of lookalikes, the Song fades, only being sung from one soul.

I cradle the Ocean Song against me. There is hope for Abyssos.

The Dead Waters are less eerie when I swim through the second time. If monsters are eyeing me for their feast, they stay well away. Such is the power of the Ocean Song—it drowns out the darkness with its light and defeats death with the force of its life.

When the sea warms around me, I know I am back in the waters of Abyssos.

The sun flickers above my head, frolicking with the waves in celebration of my victory. From here, the journey will be smooth. I know these waters well enough to know that no monsters lie in wait for an easy dinner.

The crumbling marble columns that mark the entrance to Abyssos stand tall in welcome. As I pass through them, the oyster lying against my palm draws every merperson's eyes.

Its song floats around the kingdom, waltzing into every house and dancing into every cold, dark corner.

Dull, lifeless faces light up as if they have stepped out of the shade and into the sunlight. The plants perk up. The coral brightens as they drink in the life of the Ocean Song.

My heart overflows as my kingdom transforms around me, blooming into its former splendour. Warmth spreads from the oyster I hold, giving hope and safety.

The Ocean Song is home.