Aella 6, - New Moon
The sea swelled momentarily. Then subsided. Then swelled again. Then subsided. Beneath the waves sand shifted in time to that rhythm, forever being washed into new patterns by the eternally moving ocean.
Aella watched the sand move. It wasn’t that interesting, but the cursed girl had become an expert on passing the time any way she could. Seconds passed.
But tonight she was trying to keep more than boredom at bay and despite her best efforts a shiver of fear ran through the mer-girl. More seconds passed.
She pressed her eyes closed, then opened them again, staring into nothingness. Aella wished both for an end to this terrible suspense and for the waiting to go on forever, for what she was waiting for to never come. Yet more seconds passed.
The sun set.
The ocean heaved as it surrendered up its burden. A massive wave surged onto the shore before slipping back again, leaving a wet girl behind it.
Aella pulled herself to her feet quickly, pushed wet tendrils of hair out of her eyes as she rose. Above her the last traces of sunlight were quickly retreating and the stars were beginning to shine; no moon would rise tonight though, tonight was a new moon.
The girl who had moments ago been a mermaid was not alone on the beach.
“Hello,†the man standing only a small way down the beach greeted her coldly.
She said nothing, fighting to hold onto her courage, ashamed that a single word should scare her so. Still, Aella forced herself not to look away, not to show she was afraid.
The man was dressed mostly in black; his clothes were old fashioned and suggested scholarliness. In one hand he was clutching a small pouch.
His lips curved into a small smile as he read the terror in the girl’s eyes.
“I have brought you supplies. Will you not repay me for such kindness?â€Â
“No.â€Â
The moments stretched out in silence, waiting. Aella allowed herself to feel the slightest pride for not allowing the fear to show in her voice, she felt very small and very vulnerable standing there on the beach. Around her wrist the key dangled loosely, she had to suppress the urge to grab it tight; he couldn’t take the key from her, ever, not unless she let him.
“You could be free. You know that.†He regarded her coldly, “You hold the key to your own freedom, quite literally, just give me it.â€Â
“No.â€Â
The waves lapped up onto the sand, washing around Aella’s ankles, she welcomed them, it felt as if the sea itself were supporting her.
“If you choose. I can wait.â€Â
“You will be waiting a long time.†Aella didn’t know how long he would be waiting, but as long as she had some strength left she would not give in.
No more words passed between them, he emptied out the pouch full of supplies onto the sand and Aella carefully gathered them up, being careful to keep one eye on the man. Time continued to slice up the tense, uncomfortable hours until sunrise.
“Being alone is terrible, but my once-monthly meeting with my tormentor is worse.
I don’t know how he travels to my isolated prison, but he leaves no trace of it. Yet once a month he comes, as surely as my curse awakes each sunrise, arriving before I pull myself from the sea and leaving after I have once again been called into the watery depths.
Sometimes it seems as if the sun and moon are conspiring against me, marking the approach of my troubles and bringing it mercilessly. My only calendar is the sky, and while it tells me neither the day nor month it predicts the approach of my tormentor perfectly.
My only ally in this terrible game of waiting is the sea. It shields me each day and seems sometimes to support me by night. Or maybe I’m imagining things.
On occasion I wonder about that terror’s plans. He can’t have found what he is searching for yet, that is why he is willing to wait. Until he has located the treasure that it is my duty to protect he can afford to be patient. Once that treasure is found…
I could be happy. I could be safe. I could be free! But the price of that freedom is the Key to my tormentor’s victory and I am not yet so desperate as to give him that.
When it is dark though, and when I look at my lonely, confined world I wonder how much my resistance is really worth. I’ve never even seen the treasure I ‘guard’, I probably never will, but despite that I hold on to the Key to it at even this awful cost. Maybe I’m crazy.
I still defy him, after so very, very long, but my courage and my strength are hanging by a thread, do not know how much longer I can stand this. Never in my long and lonely time of imprisonment have I truly believed that this period of waiting would go on forever, yet at some point the reason for that shifted; once I was certain that I would one day find an escape or be rescued if I couldn’t free myself, now I know with terrible certainty that my resolve cannot last indefinitely.
Though I will never admit it for as long as I have the strength to defy my tormentor he is winning.
The ocean murmurs around me, reminding me of all I am fighting for, and I am fighting even if it is not with weapons or physical blows. I clutch the Key for a moment, feeling its familiar shape. I twist in the water, changing direction gracefully, a mermaid once more. My monthly torment is over again.â€Â
Aella
More stories by me can be found at Rhiannon’s Stories.
By Rhiannon Watson
Concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2006 reserved by Rhiannon Rose Watson. The right of Rhiannon Rose Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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