"Dea, where in the blazing geysers have you been?" Gramma demanded, her hold tightening on her arms. "I've been worried sick! You said you were going to that factory, but you disappeared. Do you realize how serious this is? Where were you, child!"

Dea couldn't get a word in. It was just as well, since a lump had lodged in her throat. Her stomach was a shriveled husk, and a multitude of aches smoldered away like sputtering embers. Tears pricked her eyes again as she stared at Gramma's face, furrowed deeper than ever.

"Are you hurt?" The old merwoman peered closer, and her voice shook with alarm. "What happened to you? Speak!"

"I—I'm sorry, Gramma."

In the silence that stretched out, the distant gurgle of the fountain wafted in. The ocean outside the window popped out from the opaline walls and cast a bluish tinge on Gramma's tan skin.

The old merwoman slowly released her arms. "You...you went onto land."

The numbness spread again, and Dea clenched her jaw. "I'm sorry."

Gramma clapped a hand to her mouth, and her small eyes swiveled down to the plaster on Dea's swaying tail. "We need to go to the hospital—"

"It's fine—listen to me," she said, her voice breaking as urgency seeped in. "It's even worse than you can imagine. Serendiva is the human country closest to us, and it's powerful. The humans have captured merpeople who've gone onto land. Maybe they were nomads, but there must be Callians among them too. And they got Burpy. They got my cow, Gramma. I know things—I need to warn the state."

Dea paused, shivers quaking her entire form. Exhaustion almost overwhelmed her while her heartbeat thudded in her ears, amplified in the large, immaculate space.

Suddenly, Gramma pulled her into a hug, knocking the breath out of her. "You're all I have—and I could have lost you too. What were you thinking, little urchin...What were you thinking..."

Dea tried to corral her thoughts while a tidal wave of emotion swept over her. She sucked in air, and her bleary eyes fastened on a school of butterflyfish swimming outside the window. They appeared to mock her with their upbeat waltz.

She was no different just a few days ago—a sheltered fish with mundane struggles that now seemed inconsequential. The coral atoll was her entire world—a pocket universe where humans and darkness were nothing but bedtime stories. It was incredible how a mere day upended her whole reality.

"I'm not surprised about what humans have done," the old merwoman finally mumbled and leaned back to survey her granddaughter. "How did you get hurt? Tell me what happened!"

Her fists balled against her sides. "But what are you doing here? I don't understand."

"That is...Everything was planned yesterday, but then you decided to swim away." Gramma shook her head. "When they said you hadn't reached the Seastar factory, I was frankly bumfuzzled. They told me you'd gone rogue. I couldn't believe it."

Dea said nothing while guilt crystallized into a formidable weight in her gut.

"The state has been on high alert since they discovered that you took off. Mr. Massa sent a special force to track you down. As if all of this wasn't bad enough, a blasted human ship had come close again yesterday. That child, Hima, was distraught, saying your animal disappeared. That poor animal...I know how much you cared about him, Dea. It's appalling that...I must admit, I've fed him a few scraps myself. I—"

Dea's hands were so tight, nails dug into her skin. Minute plops made her realize that tears were rolling down her cheeks. They dropped into the water, creating tiny ripples.

Gramma paused and shook her head again. "I couldn't sleep a wink. They brought me here the moment you arrived back within the city borders."

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry..." Dea suppressed a sob.

"What's done is done." Her grandmother paddled to a sofa and sank down heavily. "You're back now, child, and that's what matters to me."

She closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. "You were right."

Gramma fixed the window with a contemplative stare. "Do you see that fish?"

The expanse of glass revealed a vision of blue, where butterflyfish pirouetted in a prismatic array of colors and stripes.

"Why do you think they do so well?" the merwoman mused. "It's because they've embraced their nature. They know their place. They don't try to walk on land or climb trees or fly."

Dea could only watch, momentarily dazzled by the sight. Then she slowly swam up to the sofa and perched on the armrest.

"Everything has its place." Gramma turned to survey her again. "Our place is in the ocean."

Minutes ticked by as they sat in silence. Dea rubbed her eyes, fingers pressing hard as they circled the lids over and over again. The ogi came to life with jarring abruptness.

It was Hima.

"Dea! What happened to you?" her friend's voice squawked in her ear, unnaturally shrill. "Are you okay? You're back? Why didn't you call me! I've been trying to call you since last night, desperately hoping you'd answer. I can't believe you just disappeared. Your Gramma is—"

"Hima, I'm sorry I freaked you out!" Dea cut in. "Yes, I'm okay. I'm with Gramma now."

A long exhale sounded from the other end. "Okay, okay..."

"Listen, I'll meet you soon. I—I need to go."

"Wait," Hima's voice warbled again. "I left Burpy in the meadows yesterday and—"

"I know—it's not your fault." She twisted a hand in her hair as if that would stem the flow of memories. "It's—I'll get back to you soon, okay?"

As soon as the call ended, Dea sat still for a good minute, her tail flukes tapping a repetitive beat against the sofa. "I still don't understand what we're doing here, Gramma. Where's the Regent?"

"He will be here shortly," the merwoman replied with a sigh.

"I wonder what they'd do to me now. Maybe—"

"They're not going to do anything to you."

Dea blinked, mulling over the enigmatic statement. "Wait, what did you mean 'everything was planned yesterday'?"

"You're in no state for this, Dea. I will talk to Mr. Massa. We should go home and—"

"Gramma, I need to know." She locked eyes with the merwoman, ramrod straight and jaw set. "What's going on?"

The very house seemed curious to know. The subdued whir of its systems mingled with the biological noise that hummed in her earpiece. Dea braced herself, though it was as if nothing could shock her anymore. This terrible cyclone of a day had to end. Even though she was already at rock bottom, she would bear the full brunt of the onslaught. There would be no more secrets.

Surprisingly, her grandmother appeared to cave in to her adamant stance.

"Let me tell you a little story." The old merwoman slumped back on the cushion, a faraway look on her face.

Dea frowned but said nothing.

"There once was a young man who wished for a bright future—when we could join hands with humans and other city-states." Gramma clasped her hands on her lap. "Idealistic, perseverant...He had humble beginnings, but he worked hard and never gave up on his dreams. He was fascinated with humans. He even collected rare human artifacts that now reside in the museum. He went on to become the lead scientist who founded the humanology division at MerTech."

"Oh..." Dea's eye widened, despite the impatience that prickled within. "How do you know him, Gramma?"

"He also banded with two others who shared his views," the merwoman went on as if she hadn't heard a word her granddaughter said. "One was none other than the queen of Calliathron."

The rambling story obviously had no bearing on why they were there, which made Dea worry about the effect the ordeal might have had on her grandmother. She tamped down the questions that surfaced. This was not a time to be listening to this. It was imperative that she share the knowledge she had obtained with the SBI.

Oblivious to her mounting agitation, Gramma continued, "He married Queen Marina in a quiet wedding. For many years, they worked together to open trade with other cities. It was an uphill task, even though the Second Ocean War was over by then. Tensions and distrust still persisted. The royal couple also sent out expeditions to learn about the world above the waves and funded research at MerTech. It opened up wonderful new initiatives—like the vertical farming of salt-tolerant terrestrial plants. What do they call them?"

"Halophytes."

"Yes, exactly. We wouldn't have our cherries or beets otherwise. It was at this time that the Callian Seed Vault was constructed as well. Technology developed by leaps and bounds—the city was soon almost unrecognizable. What a time it was...Everything was set for an era of prosperity."

"Now is not the time for—"

"Some years later, the king and queen went on a diplomatic trip to the North."

"I know that, Gramma," Dea interrupted.

"Do you?"

"Who doesn't! And we've learned some of this in history class too. Weather conditions made them overstay, and the queen died giving birth. Then the king died soon after. Wasn't it pneumonia?"

Gramma shook her head. "That is the official story..."

"You wouldn't know what actually happened anyways," Dea intoned. "The state only tells you what they want you to believe."

"Things were a bit different back in the day. Before Mr. Massa was elected Regent."

She let out a frustrated sigh, tiredness seeping into her very bones. "How is this relevant right now?"

"Their child, the heir apparent, would have attained majority now," the merwoman said in statuesque stillness. "Yesterday, to be precise."

"I know," Dea said. "I mean, everyone's curious if they'd return from the North. I was talking with Hima about it just a few days ago at work."

Gramma finally turned to look at her. An old, weathered soul peered out through eyes surrounded by bags and cormorant's feet. Stray hairs peeked out of her bun and glowed silver in the light streaming in from the window wall.

"What if...the princess was never in the North?" Gramma wondered out loud.

"Princess?" Dea echoed, wondering why her grandmother assigned a gender to the heir apparent—a thought immediately overhauled by the desperation that set in. "Look, Gramma, the state needs to know about the merpeople that Serendiva's holding captive! I just can't—this is not the time for idle speculation."

The way the merwoman watched her cut short the rest of her words. She suddenly blinked as her overexerted brain started processing the string of coincidences. This royal child would be...my age. Their birthday was yesterday.

"It so happens...that young man was my son," Gramma said, the words rippling across the quiet. "Bathyal Ogin. The queen's consort."

Dea's heart stopped. The bombshell of a revelation exploded in her head, sending shockwaves through her system.

"You are the heir apparent, Dea. The inheritance your parents left you is none other than the throne of Calliathron."

Animal: Butterflyfish

https://youtu.be/B3eiM8fL720