https://youtu.be/Q_6b3srQr90

ONE MONTH LATER

Dea watched the bubble rings expand and ascend. One. Two. Three.

They were too many to count. Each ring represented a fallen soldier.

A few thousand rings had already floated up, glittering and entwining in the sunbeams. They dissipated into the shimmering surface high above the cerulean blue waters.

The hypnotic spectacle reinforced the lull that permeated the gathering. They were assembled in the Memorial Circle not far from the royal residence. Dea swayed her tail flukes to stay vertical and panned her gaze over the hundred merpeople in black, white and navy blue against the golden beams of Calliathron's sunrise.

The war had ended a month ago. The wounds still ached, but the mind had a way of rebuilding itself—much like an immortal jelly sinking to the seafloor and starting anew.

"Dea," a deep voice burbled to her right.

She turned to look at Talmus Mora, who leaned towards her while the band played the final tribute.

"I just received word that the new human PM has appointed the cabinet," the burly merman said. "He and his envoy will arrive in Calliathron next week."

Dea straightened up. "That's excellent news."

A hundred possibilities whirled in her head as she swayed in the tranquil current. Ever since the peace accord was signed with the new human government, she was caught up in the heady pace of civilization on the cusp of a new era—a preoccupation that helped stay the nightmares.

"I presume it would cause quite the excitement when it's announced," Mora mused almost to himself. "Humans visiting our city. What a time to be alive."

She closed her eyes, trying to contain the emotion that welled up.

The merman added in a low rumble, "This summit would be quite a challenge to organize—we don't have the infrastructure to accommodate human guests."

"We'll have to sort that out soon," Dea said quietly. "I look forward to speaking with the humans on how we will proceed."

"Indeed. I actually spoke with the PM last evening."

"Oh?"

"The consignment of marine grain was met well, and he's very much interested in our solar power tech. He also agreed to facilitate a safe haven for the nomads in order to strengthen bilateral ties. The chosen location is an archipelago to the east of Serendiva."

"That's promising." Dea's eyes lit up. "We can help them develop sustainable industry with marine grass fields—suck tons of carbon from the air, revolutionize the food system and create new jobs for both merpeople and humans."

"It's certainly promising." Mora's face turned pensive. "A mighty wave of change is upon us, and the world will never be the same again. Your reign will be unlike anything Calliathron has seen before, Dea."

She took a sip from her oxy-canister, a smile hovering on her lips. The music swept over those assembled, and a sense of peace hung about the water. A brooding merwoman with a scar on her cheek caught her eye and nodded. Sagari.

"On another note," the merman said. "My family's looking forward to dinner with you and your grandmother."

"Thank you again for the invitation—it's very kind of you." Dea paused. "But I want to make it clear that I'll be visiting as a guest and not for a potential marriage arrangement—contrary to what my grandmother has in mind."

Amusement flitted over his features. "Is there something disagreeable or lacking in Anemon?"

Dea wondered how to convey the fact that she simply wasn't interested in the guy—in a manner that sounded formal and polite. "Anemon is...very agreeable and obviously accomplished. But if I were to be honest, Mr. Mora, I need something more than matching star signs and family compatibility to tie the—to consider marriage."

Mora burbled something under his breath along the lines of headstrong young women of the day. Dea bit back a retort and watched the last bubble rings drift to the surface.

Then he said in a louder rumble, "I have agreed to arrange something that would be pleasing to you. Though for the life of me, I can't see where this is heading. We don't even have a—well, I believe it is fitting for the times."

"Pardon?" Dea blinked at him. "Arrange what?"

"You will soon find out." He turned his attention back to the final notes of music that rippled across the space.

She followed suit. Way to be enigmatic, Mora.

When the memorial ended, Dea bid farewell to Talmus Mora and the other officials. Shortly afterwards, she allowed herself to be escorted to a state submersible.

The vehicle transported her to a modern house on an algae-lined road not far from Sirye. She had made the decision to only use the royal residence for official purposes, since the loneliness was overpowering and the ghosts of the past lurked behind its opulence. The new home was as unfamiliar as everything else in her reality, but the monochrome affair, dabbed with pink, resembled a bigger version of her room at Gramma's.

"Thank you, Mobula," Dea said to the driver as she disembarked.

"No problem, Your Highness," she replied, her breath fizzing out in the vehicle's interior. "I will arrive to pick you up later today."

Dea frowned, wondering if there was something she missed on her schedule. "Later today?"

"Why, yes, I was asked to arrive at five."

Dea made a mental note to bring it up with her secretary, though her stomach sank at the prospect of an extra commitment. This memorial Sunday was supposed to have been a day of rest.

When she swam into the airlock, Gramma's loud complaint filled her ears.

"Gramma, what is it?" she called out as the water flushed out of the airlock chamber.

"Grey, grubbing groupers in an infernal cyclone! This is the fifth time I'm trying to open this useless device. That poor man Mr. Nudibronk is down with a nasty cold, and I can't even call."

She suppressed a laugh. "You need to jot down your password somewhere! It's codswallop, remember?"

"Oh, yes." There was a patter of noises. "You change that password, young lady."

"Not my fault you said that when I held up the ogi."

A string of disgruntled clicks issued out. Dea giggled and entered the living room.

It was as if she had undergone a second growth spurt, and circumstances had solidified her public persona, allowing only limited time to ease into her true self. She now led two lives—one as the queen and the other as the young adult that she was, though a balance was yet to be determined.

Her grandmother sat on the watercouch, stowing away her new ogi in a tote bag.

"You wouldn't have to use it if you just come live here, Gramma," Dea said, paddling up to her. "You don't have to live alone in—"

"I prefer my little place," she said, eyes now glued to the TV. "You've been working so hard, child. I had to come in today and cook you some lunch."

"Thank you! I was actually craving some of your seitan." Dea broke into a smile at how pleased the merwoman looked. "It's just...there's so much to do."

Gramma's face morphed to a solemn expression as she flipped through the channels. Dea's eyes followed her gaze to the TV. A nature show was on, with a school of fish swimming in a mesmerizing tornado formation.

"You're wrong, Gramma," Dea whispered.

"What was that?"

"You told me that fish know their place—that they belong in the ocean."

Gramma said nothing.

"Well," Dea said, lips inching into a smile again, "I happened to meet fish who walked on land, climbed trees and flew in the air."

The old merwoman squinted at her. "What in the blazing geysers are you on about, Dea?"

"Nothing, nothing..." She splashed towards the conveyor belt that led to the upper floor.

"I was...wrong about another matter."

Dea jolted to a halt, head swiveling to her grandmother. "What?"

"I should have known that man was up to no good." Gramma smoothed her starfish-printed dress. "We all bought into his talks and promises."

Her jaw tensed. "It's over now—Massa won't be getting out of jail. I wish Serendiva could bring Dilip to justice too."

"They still couldn't arrest him?"

"No, he's hiding out in another human country. Only his dad is facing charges—mismanagement of public funds and marine life trafficking. They couldn't prosecute him for crimes against merpeople, because Serendiva's current laws only protect humans."

Gramma heaved a sigh. "I'm glad those innocent people are finally home. I can't even begin to imagine what they must have gone through in that horrible island."

"What I still don't understand is," Dea said, frowning, "what made Massa so twisted and vengeful. It seemed...personal."

The merwoman was quiet for a long moment, vacant stare fixed on the TV. "Do you remember what I told you about your father?"

She blinked, and her frown intensified. "Yeah."

"Well, I mentioned that Bathyal befriended two people who shared his views and that one of them was your mother."

"Who was the other?" Dea asked, her voice barely audible.

"Hal Moray Massa's son."

The very air stilled. She let go of the breath she was holding. For the umpteenth time, she pondered how much she still had to learn of the past. It was a vast interconnected web that shaped the present and set in motion what she was just beginning to understand.

"Did he...die?" Dea asked.

"Yes—after that fatal encounter with the human whaling ship." Gramma kept rubbing the dress, even though there were no creases in sight. "Out of what Bathyal told me of his friend, Massa was proud of him and had high expectations."

Dea tried to unravel the tangle of thoughts that the revelation evoked. Her mind strayed to her darkest moments when she could hardly recognize herself. What if you let the monster take over and let it grow...Would you have turned into the very person you wanted to stop? She shivered.

The old merwoman drew in a long breath and switched the channel to a soap opera. "You swim along now. Hima is here—she went to your room."

"Oh." Dea steadied her voice. "Yeah, she said she's coming..."

Leaving Gramma to her show, Dea propelled herself to the conveyor belt in one fluid diving motion. When she neared her room, the upbeat vocals of the Dottyback Boys greeted her.

Hima was spyhopping by the mirror, clad in a sports outfit. She pulled her long pearl hair into an otter tail.

"Are you going to Flipping Flukes?" Dea asked, moving to deposit her handbag on the table.

"Hey! Yeah." Hima turned down the volume on her ogi and stuffed a water bottle into her backpack. "I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Mhmm, say hi to Oomie."

"Will do!" Her friend grinned. "You can maybe flirt with lover boy till I get back."

Dea rolled her eyes, though the temperature in her face soared. She caught her own reflection in the mirror. Her hair now brushed her shoulders in pastel pink waves, having reverted to its former hue.

Hima suddenly barked out a laugh. "I can't believe you actually ended up with the Sea Witch."

"Sh!" Her cheeks grew toastier. "I haven't—I'm just talking to him."

"Uhuh. I still can't wrap my head around it—I mean, he's human too. Like, imagine when your Gramma finds out—heck, when this goes public."

"I have enough stress on my shoulders without you adding to it!"

"Flirt away then. I'll be back later."

"Shuddup and go already."

As Hima paddled off, cackling, Dea plopped down at her computer and waited for it to boot up. Her idle eyes panned over her room and snagged on the vanity table.

Three precious items sat on it.

Her mother's starfish jewellery box gleamed next to the insect hairpin. She smiled when she recalled Mihiri and Jee, and how their testimony, corroborated by the older teen's viral footage, changed Serendiva's perception of her.

Her gaze lingered on the final piece on the table. Her heart constricted.

It was the broken starfish collar.

A painful cascade of memories flooded her brain, and Dea hugged herself, trying to slow her breathing.

The computer finally loaded the home screen. She hurriedly opened up the app that she used to communicate with the deep-sea colony. It was only possible with a special network card that connected to Anuk's buoy system.

He was offline. Her heart sank.

Dea proceeded to sync her ogi and called the general channel. The last person she wanted to speak with that peaceful Sunday picked up the call.

"Well, if it ain't the queen of Calliathron," Gog's voice said after a minor lag.

"Hey, Gog, where's Anuk?" Dea asked, slathering on a generous dollop of nonchalance. "Is he busy right now?"

"He's not in."

"Really?" Dea frowned. "He's in his land lair? He didn't tell me."

Gog muttered something under her breath—then said, "Well, you won him fair and square. I'll give you that."

"Huh?" She recovered a nanosecond later. "I didn't know I was competing."

"Very funny. Hope you break up soon."

Dea rolled her eyes. "Not happening."

The muttering went up a notch. "You ain't that bad. It's cool you're coordinating with the humans. Not saying I like you though."

"Why, thanks, Gog."

Voices wafted in from the other end before Kelp popped up.

Dea smiled. "Hey, Kelp."

"Hey! Muda says hi too." He paused. "Are you chilling today?"

"Not exactly. I have something to do this evening, though I'm yet to know what it is."

"Ah, but that would be pretty enjoyable."

"What?"

"Anyways," Kelp said, amusement coating his words, "I gotta go—we're busy."

Gog interrupted before Dea could respond, "Quite a few people here are excited about the move back to the surface."

The words didn't register. Her brain was too busy trying to make sense of what Kelp said.

"We'll still be using this station," Gog went on and cleared her throat. "But I'm looking forward to it too. Have a proper home, feel the sun and wind again..."

An awkward silence stretched out.

"Wait," Dea said, unable to mask her surprise, "how do you know that Serendiva's offering sanctuary? Mora only confirmed it to me this morning during the memorial."

"Anuk let it slip before he set off."

Mora was in contact with him? Dea blinked. "Where is Anuk now anyways?"

"He's busy with a few things—I think he'd arrive in Calliathron by five."

Quick Note: The oceanic carbon cycle (or marine carbon cycle) exchanges carbon within the ocean as well as between the atmosphere and the planet's interior.

In recent years, climate change has caused more carbon to dissolve into the ocean, which has led to acidification while also raising temperatures.

Seagrass captures carbon up to 35 times faster than tropical rainforests and, even though it only covers 0.2% of the seafloor, it absorbs 10% of the ocean's carbon each year (WWF). So it's a good idea to plant seagrass!

And remember the range of marine-grain-based food in the first few chapters? Dea's food bowl, Gramma's dough, grain balls (like onigiri), seitan, grain milk and ice-cream? All of that comes from varieties of marine grain. Some of these seagrasses only have scientific names, but Mermish has many names for them similar to our land grasses like wheat and many types of rice. So Serendiva is going to get lots of new food!

Animal: Immortal Jellyfish

https://youtu.be/Z7d5P0pDVUo