The sea around Ursula’s lair was cold, oppressive, the light barely penetrating the inky blackness. Here, in the deepest, most forsaken parts of the ocean, she ruled as queen of the dark abyss. Or at least, she once had. Now, her glory days were nothing but a distant memory, the echoes of laughter and music from the palace replaced with silence and hunger. Her cavernous lair, all jagged rocks and twisted remnants of what once was, stood as a reminder of her banishment.

Ursula watched the swirling currents in her bubble of magic, her long, black tentacles moving restlessly as she floated in place, unable to sit still. The cursed vision played out before her—the image of the little princess, the one they all fawned over, swimming with that foolish little guppy by her side. Oh, how familiar that scene felt. She sneered, her sharp teeth gleaming in the faint light of the magical orb. The bitterness inside her swelled like the relentless tide.

"Yes, hurry home, princess," Ursula whispered, her voice laced with venom. “We wouldn’t want to miss Daddy’s precious little celebration now, would we?”

The word ‘Daddy’ left a sour taste in her mouth. King Triton. Her brother.

How she loathed him.

Ha! Celebration. Bah! It disgusted her to even think about it. Celebration, indeed. How pathetic it all was. In her day, they didn’t just celebrate—they reveled in magnificence, they had fantastical feasts, overflowing with the most lavish foods, the rarest treasures of the sea. She had commanded respect, admiration, and power when she lived in the palace. She had been somebody. A queen in her own right.

Her eyes flickered down to the small, squeaky shrimp that dared to stray too close to her. Without hesitation, she plucked it from the sand and crushed it between her fingers, the tiny squeal it made bringing a twisted smile to her face. How easily it was to snuff out life here in the deep. This was her kingdom now. The forgotten. The feared.

"And now look at me," she hissed, voice dripping with contempt as she popped the shrimp into her mouth and swallowed. Her hunger remained unquenched, an ever-present gnawing that mirrored the empty pit in her chest. “Wasted away to practically nothing. Banished. Exiled. And starving, while he…” Her voice trembled with rage. “While he and his flimsy fish-folk celebrate as if they have the right!"

Her fury boiled over, her massive form coiling as her tentacles twisted and writhed beneath her. She drifted slowly, descending to the dark, cold floor of her lair. Each motion was deliberate, calculated, as if her entire body mirrored the dark thoughts swirling in her mind.

"Well,” she murmured, her voice dark and promising. “I’ll give them something to celebrate soon enough."

She reached out with her magic, sending a signal through the currents. Her trusted eels, Flotsam and Jetsam, would hear her call, no matter how far they were. They always did.

"Flotsam! Jetsam!"

In her mind, she could see them, the ever-loyal pair. A smirk twisted her lips as the image of Jetsam foolishly bumping his head against a rock flickered in her magical bubble. Idiots, perhaps, but useful ones.

"I want you to keep an extra close watch on this pretty little daughter of his,” Ursula whispered, her voice slow and menacing. Her eyes gleamed, the dark magic swirling within them. “She may be the key to Triton’s undoing..."

The mere thought of it—the downfall of her arrogant brother—was enough to send a thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins. But it wasn’t just vengeance that fueled her, no. It was something far deeper. Something far more personal.

Ursula’s thoughts drifted to a darker time, to memories that she had kept buried, even from herself, for so long. Memories of betrayal. Of heartbreak.

Uma.

Her heart clenched painfully at the thought of her daughter, stolen from her all those years ago. Triton had taken Uma, snatched her away under the pretense of protecting her, of claiming that Ursula was unfit to raise a child, that Uma would be better off in the palace, under his care. Lies. All of it. The truth had always been simple—Triton feared her. Feared what her daughter could become under Ursula’s guidance. He knew the power that ran in their blood, the same power that Ursula had been born with, and he had been terrified of it. Terrified of her.

And so he took Uma from her.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, the sound echoing through the empty cavern. She had been forced to watch from the shadows as Uma grew up in that wretched palace, unaware of her true heritage, raised as Triton’s "daughter". Ursula’s heart twisted with the ache of a mother denied her child, and her rage grew fiercer with each passing year. She had once dreamed of reclaiming Uma, of revealing the truth. But now? Now, there was something else at stake.

Uma had grown into a powerful young 16 year old girl, rebellious and hungry for something more than what Triton’s kingdom offered. Ursula had seen it in her—her daughter’s spark, the fire that burned just beneath the surface. And she knew, deep down, that it was only a matter of time before Uma would find her way back to her true roots. Her real family.

The magical bubble flickered, showing the reflection of Uma once again, her powerful form cutting through the water. Ursula’s gaze softened for just a moment, the pain of a mother’s longing flashing through her dark eyes.

My daughter.

Her mind whirled with plans, with thoughts of what was to come. She would see to it that Uma learned the truth. That she would know exactly who her mother was—and who her enemy was. And when the time came, Triton would pay for every slight, every injustice.

Ursula’s eyes glowed in the darkness, her voice barely more than a whisper as the image of her daughter faded from the bubble.

"They’ll all pay."

And as the light flickered out, leaving only the cold darkness of the deep, Ursula's glowing eyes were the last thing to fade, her vow echoing through the abyss.