The currents caught on his webbed fingertips and sped him inwards toward Meridia’s everyday hustle and bustle. He swept past scale-clothed merchants with their exotic fish-filled cages and sea plants. One of these particular plants caught his eye as he passed. What appeared to be a hybrid plant which he had not seen before, possibly sold to the peddler by a foreign traveler, knotted its notched deep purple tentacles in Meridia’s currents.
How bizarre it was; that he had never seen any particular plant like that before? Despite all his travels...
The peddler and his unique plant passed on with the pressing currents as Maanta ducked beneath an arched coral column which connected the inner tower to The East Shale Wall. He jetted upward with tensed legs and beating ankle fins and swept through a ring of playing merchildren who were not the least bit concerned with him.
It was the bizarre and favorite game of young merchildren to curve their bodies ever so slightly and chase each other in a ring, using their wrist and ankle fins to keep up in the loop until one of the children would drift out because of the suction that it created. The ring became smaller and did so each time another child was suctioned out. Sometimes when the ring was down to two it would seem as if it was a shimmering blue orb hovering in the waters, mystically resisting the aquatic currents.
As a young Meridian, Maanta had always loved to watch. But he could never join in, as he possessed webbed fingers instead of wrist fins. This was not simply a rarity among Meridians, it was a never. Maanta felt unique to be the only such as this. Most others thought him weak and a burden to their play groups. That and many things caused him to explore alone.
Currents pushed behind him as he swept his pale, webbed fingers down towards Meridia’s potion cove in anticipation of meeting with his newfound friend, Sift, and Sift’s riding companion, Lola.
Meridians of all shapes and sizes bustled above and below. A gathering of artisans squeezed different colored inks from fish-scale tubes onto a kelp tapestry, creating a rainbow of colors depicting a molten eruption. Mer families swept past, dining upon anemone-stuffed squid tentacles as they swept into the worship cove to learn about Gelu. One rotund man nearly rammed Maanta with his whale bone Noosechariot, while being pulled towards market by fanglet fish.
Maanta dove below the hollowed out bone contraption, physically pulling himself out of currents that were sucking him towards the Noosechariot’s jagged hull.
“Pesky pale child!” the hefty Meridian grunted.
The paleness of his skin, that’s all some ever saw. Maanta knew there was more than milky flesh to his whole, though some never seemed to see this. It singed the soul at times but molded him to be just who he was.
That’s not true, he thought. If I were bluer, adorned with wrist fins, the things I’ve seen would not have come to my eyes and the life I’ve lived would not be mine. It’s the taunting I have to thank for my adventures throughout the depths, because without it I’d have stayed and played with others, being not this me, but more like them.
It hurt though. It always would.
Sucking water through his lungs and curling down toward the bustling labyrinth potions cove, he dove.
To find a dark-skinned man adorned in gold and scorched tattoos amongst a potions cove of Meridians should not be hard, he thought. While sweeping toward the jutting cove of stone, Maanta saw what appeared to be a vast, barren space in the injured camp of Meridians.
“They’re coming to slaughter our women,” a man gargled while pivoting past Maanta away from the cove.
Maanta jutted through the depths towards the barren area, where only Sift lay hovering above a rising stone table.
“What have they done?” Maanta gasped as he reached him.
Forbidden fluid drifted up from Sift’s open lips.
“They have done nothing.” Sift grinned. “That’s not for lack of trying. Since morning broke neither healer or injured man have come near except to gawk at or threaten me. And I’ve noticed no-one has skin like mine, or yours for that matter. That is probably why they stay away. People fear what is different.”
Then how are you healed if none would come near? Maanta wondered. Where is the gash along your shoulder? And why so alert and lively if none have come with food? I trust you, Sift, but what is it you’re hiding?
“I’m sorry,” Maanta said. “They’re so scared of anything they haven’t known before. A year back the waters became warmer in Meridia’s Koffen Caves and cavern fishers haven’t adventured close since. Tales of poisonous ink fish breeding in the caves depths, heating their currents, run wild.”
And then it happened, a beginning none foresaw but it was just that.
Waves of Meridians that were huddling away from Sift before, swept in scurrying sheets above their heads towards the iris tower of Meridia’s center, towards the hearth of Zhar Nicholea, Cardonea Tower. Whispers excitedly passed amongst them and none took notice of Maanta or his companion.
“The look in their eyes, like a gossip freshly born,” Sift remarked. “Shall we see what’s whispered mongst these depths?”
“I’m curious, myself,” Maanta replied.
“Lola!” Sift lowly bellowed her to his side. He clasped the stones on Lola’s side, hoisting himself upon her scales. Maanta, Sift and Lola swept toward the commotion gathering about Cardonea Tower.