A Short Story
Kelp forests were normally too shallow for swimming dragons. But water rises and falls.
On flood night Oceanus could swim above the towering vegetation, high enough that the barnacle-riddled leaves never brushed his scaly belly. When tides moved, so did underwater treasure.
A pearly shimmer caught the dragon’s eye. It couldn’t have been a reflection of moonlight. What Oceanus saw was bone-white, and his moon was sapphire blue.
It was a slow moon, but long astrological rifts never pressure dragons. Oceanus lived forever. All he had was time and treasure.
There it was again. The sparkle stayed in place beneath layers of gently flapping leaves. The dragon stared. He wondered if this could be some kind of spellbound pearl, for it was so bright it seemed to emanate light.
To investigate Oceanus had to dive below the glassy surface, leaving a silent whirlpool in his wake. The blue moon watched, perfectly impartial.
He pushed apart kelp stalks, focusing his ancient eyes on the white glitter. Though he could swim above the forest with ease during the flood, crawling through the dense kelp took diligence. So it was. He ripped at the leaves. Not even iron-clad cavalries could keep dragons from treasure.
But there was no magical pearl. He found a baby. A human toddler. She was swaddled in a kelp leaf, like tuna in a sushi roll.
He recognized her face immediately.
Her name was Catalina Cutlass. She was the daughter of two legendary pirates: Daria and Jakob. In fact, her parents were the only creatures of that era the reptilian hermit could consider his friends. Oceanus protected treasure for the Cutlass pirates, promising to keep it safe long after their mortal lives. Their alliance was deep. Dragons and pirates share the same ironic longing; both seek to protect their plunder from other thieves.
The baby looked different than he remembered. Her skin was so white it was as if she had never seen the sun.
Had Catalina drowned? Oceanus felt his heart sink.
He lifted her from the kelp bed, but his giant claws ripped apart her delicate seaweed bundle. Catalina’s legs had been replaced by a crimson fishtail. The dragon, who witnessed epochs of ocean life, had never seen humans merge with fish before.
That’s when he caught sight of three green slits on either side of her neck. The slits slightly opened to welcome in and expel water.
“How can this be?” Oceanus wondered aloud, softly as not to wake the merchild.
He must return her to her parents.
The giant creature rushed to the surface, clutching the young mermaid. He had to get back into the open ocean to find the pirates. He swam like a crocodile, with batty wings folded against his back. Serpentine swishes of his massive tail sent waves to faraway shores.
Rain began to pour, filling the watery world with a muted drumming sound. The ocean became turbulent, dark, and cold. All of a sudden, Oceanus could tell that he and Catalina were no longer alone. Someone was watching them. The dragon felt scales on the back of his neck rise. Oceanus scanned the kelp forest, but saw nothing approaching.
“Hello again, water dragon,” said a red-hot, searing voice. In her sleep the young merchild fidgeted.
“Kraken! Be gone!” The dragon boomed with a violent thrash. His movements ripped great, old kelp from the seafloor. The baby mermaid began to cry and wriggle, but the dragon did not drop her.
If the Kraken entered his aura, resistance was futile. The only way to be rid of the Kraken was to listen. It’s just that, usually, Oceanus didn’t want to hear what it had to say.
Oceanus opened his eyes. The beast looked like a purple octopus with a protruding parrot beak. No other Krakens lived in the ocean. It came from somewhere else, somewhere kaleidoscopic and blazing with bizarre qualities.
“So it was you, Kraken? You cursed the girl? And you left her in the forest for some crab to prey on?” asked Oceanus. No matter where he looked, the Kraken was right in front of him.
“No, water dragon. I left her for you. And I know she is well protected. That’s what you promised the pirates, right? What could possibly protect treasure better than a dragon?” said the Kraken. When it spoke its beak did not move. The Kraken’s voice was coming from inside Oceanus’ own mind. “Now Daria and Jakob’s treasure is finally yours, water dragon. Such a lucrative alliance you forged with those pirates, eh? ”
“How do you know about our agreement?” the dragon asked.
“Don't you see? Nothing in your waters can hide from me. The Kraken has a tentacle in every affair,” it screamed. Lightning flashed to reveal dozens more Kraken tentacles, as if they were there all along. They vanished. But Oceanus had a creeping feeling that the tentacles were there, still, somehow.
“The pirates left you everything, even their greatest treasure,” screeched the Kraken.
“What? What happened to Daria and Jakob? And what’s their greatest treasure?” Oceanus asked.
“She lives and breathes water! You’ve come to know her as Catalina.”
“Where are her parents?”
“They’re gone!” It spoke with absolute authority.
“What happened to Catalina?”
“Oh? Did you notice her tail? And her gills?,” the Kraken asked with a shrill tone.
“Yes, of course. Now is she able to live underwater?” asked the dragon.
The Kraken laughed. Its skin flashed from purple to white in a series of disorienting flashes.
“Every drop of water in the ocean will come to know Catalina. And in some later time the mermaid will still be heard as a soft echo in the heart’s of men gazing at sea. Catalina must live underwater. It is her fate.”
“Enough stories! You have to tell me, Kraken! What did you do to Daria and Jakob?”
“What if, water dragon, I cannot even tell you? What if you could never understand? Just one drop of water has no idea why it rises or falls. Only the Kraken can see that it’s a drop on the crest of a wave. What if, not even an immortal water dragon can understand like the Kraken?”
“Why don’t you just stay out of my ocean? Stop meddling!” Hot air surged from the dragon's nose, distorting the water in front of him. The Kraken remained sharp in his view, as if the tentacle-rich body were just a film draped over his eyes.
“No! The Kraken never meddles. You know the Kraken is just a servant to fate! All heroes must face rough waters, even the Cutlass pirates. And all heroes have a fate, even you, water dragon.”
Overhead, rain fell harder onto crashing waves. Oceanus stayed silent, waiting for the Kraken to continue.
“Can’t you see? Dragons are meant for the sky. But you answered the call of the ocean. You live in the water’s shadow where you can’t even breathe fire. This merchild is yours to raise. It’s your fate!” squawked the Kraken.
“I thought that was the fate of the Cutlass pirates. You know, her parents,” Oceanus cried.
“Silence! The pirates are gone. But, rest assured, I was not their killer. Maybe it was just a storm!” the Kraken said.
Oceanus wanted to ask more questions, but he felt an emptiness settle in the water. The Kraken was gone. The rain and waves dissipated. All was still. Even the young merchild had fallen back into her slumber.
Oceanus felt something materialize in his free talons.
It was a mirror. Oceanus was an avid collector, yet there was not one single mirror in his hoard. However, this was no ordinary mirror. Where there should’ve been a reflection, was a replica of a dark ship, seeming to soar out of the mirror. It sang of pirates. It promised danger and thievery, all under a black flag.
Oceanus knew the ship from bow to stern. Enemies of that black ship swore the name ‘Cutlass’ as they lost their lives to the sea. The ship was fast, getting away with heist after heist, even while heavy with treasure. Before she ever tasted seawater, Catalina was born as a human girl in that very dark and haunted cabin. It was rare for pirates to have kids. Daria and Jakob could live only at sea, for they had made enemies at every port. They were pushed further, into deeper and deeper waters to avoid violence. The dark ship was their haven.
Now, the Cutlass ship was trapped in a mirror. And the pirates were gone. Oceanus squinted.
The mirror became hot. There was a flash of light, a wincing scream, and the ship was gone. Mysteriously, then, it seemed to be a normal mirror.
The dragon’s own reflection startled him. His eyes were portals of grief. He took a deep breath and resisted the urge to sigh it all out. Oceanus descended, holding the merchild and the mirror close to his heart.
*** *** ***
“Can you tell me the story, Oceanus? Please?”
“Catalina, I’m afraid there’s no time. I must go now,” said the dragon.
“But, what about the short version?” Catalina asked. She looked at him with pleading eyes. As soon as the dragon thought her eyes were green, they took on a wild orange. It was hypnotic. Oceanus wondered if her eyes knew what their observer was seeing, and wanted to counter their conclusions.
“Fine,” Oceanus said.
The mermaid was holding a piece of coral. It resembled an antler, branching off into elegant geometry. When she looked closely she could see a myriad of hexagons and lines carved into the coral. It was bleach white, nearly as pale as the mermaid.
“What you’re holding is a structure, but it did not grow on its own. Coral is made up of thousands of tiny creatures. They all work together. It took hundreds of years for a coral to grow tha—”
“Oceanus?” Catalina interrupted.
“Yes?”
“Why isn’t there any coral here in the trench?” she asked.
“You know we live far too deep. There’s not nearly enough sunlight, and I really must go” he answered.
“I want to meet them!”
“Maybe another day.”
“But you’re going to the surface right now, Oceanus! Why can’t I come?” the mermaid sang. Her voice had an eerie echo, as if she were speaking inside a hollow shell.
“I don’t think so,” said Oceanus.
“I can! I really can! I promise!” she said, swimming in tight circles right in front of the dragon’s path.
“Won’t you, please, Catalina just stay? I really must go take a breath now,” the dragon said.
“Okay. But next time I’ll go up with you!”
The dragon refused to agree or disagree. He simply swam upwards, leaving the young mermaid alone. She flared her gills with a sigh.
Catalina’s voice flooded the water. She sang with direct focus, watching the dragon’s silhouette become smaller and smaller until he was finally invisible. She wondered what it would be like to swim in a coral reef, still toying with the skeleton. A hint of melancholy haunted the song.
All she could remember was the dragon’s trench, which echoed her whimsical songs between its crystal walls.
The ocean taught Catalina to sing.
Ever since she was a baby merchild, she watched ghostly shipwreck sails being pulled upwards by the surge. That’s how she learned rhythm. She grew up in a hoard of shipwrecks; the trench served as their final harbor.
Floating ships had tales, but when a vessel no longer kissed the wind it was forgotten. The planet would keep spinning, and the blue moon would keep orbiting. Comets would pass and eventually so would the ship’s crew. Time ate tales.
Only water remembered. And nobody could talk to water, except for mermaids. When Catalina touched the ship’s waterlogged wood, it told her about the wind routes and those who sailed them. She heard about treason, arson, and daggers in the back. And all those ships met a blue dragon who cast them to the trench from far reaches of the sea.
The mermaid kept singing, sitting up on the deck of the ship. Catalina wanted to explore the ocean, but Oceanus told her she could never leave the trench. There was a soft whisper of water that promised the mermaid a life outside the trench. In fact, she could hear everything in the ocean. Catalina heard wailing water being carved by wind in the backs of sea caves. She heard lethargic water, heavy with salt, sink to the bottom of grottos. It clashed with the grotto’s surface, which sang of soprano raindrops. She heard the presence of her blue moon’s gravity. The water whispered to her exactly where it was. She also heard the sun, warming the water in its cycles. She heard the rumble of tsunamis, the slow crackling of icebergs, and the hymns of whales bigger than dragons. She felt the lure of the moon and the pull of stars. But Oceanus told her to stay put.
She liked to hold the coral, because when she touched it the coral blossomed with rich impressions of sunlight. Catalina could hear the song of a warm life in tropical, shallow waters. And she wanted to go.
But Oceanus wouldn’t have it. He cherished her. He wanted her to stay in the trench, because he would miss her spirit if she were gone. A mermaid’s song soothed the heartache of his endless life.
The mermaid had been holding the coral skeleton and singing, but her suppressed urge to swim out of the trench filled her voice with extra resonance. Sound waves ricocheted through the water. The vibrations were so strong that the coral skeleton cracked. A small piece broke off. Catalina gasped and her gills stuck straight out.
The broken piece sunk and the mermaid flipped over, scrambling. It sank between fractured planks, through a hole too small for a mermaid’s prying, webbed hands. .
She had to find it. The mermaid swam through a passageway to go below deck. It was furnished with only a pile of treasure. Catalina went straight to the top. She pushed aside emerald-encrusted pirate blades, golden coins, and mysterious bones.
The coral should’ve been right on top. That’s when Catalina found a handheld mirror. When she picked it up, she forgot all about finding her coral. She even forgot the time of day and phase of the moon.
The whole ocean faded from Catalina. The mermaid, a natural hypnotist, had entranced herself at first sight.
Her gills moved water slowly. She was raised by the dragon, who restrained his breath to stay in the trench for as long as possible without breathing. She mirrored him. She was a calm creature, especially by herself. She got lost easily. In the mirror she was more lost than ever before. She could see her own eyes, changing colors faster than she could understand. Catalina’s golden hair floated in the water. Her curls were alive like serpents of Medusa’s crown. Time and space completely disappeared.
She began to wonder if she was born in the trench. Oceanus never mentioned the kelp forest, the mirror, or her parents. Dragons had secrets, but water was transparent.
“You were born from pirates,” the ocean whispered, clear as a newborn turtle’s path back to sea. She felt her blue moon’s pull on her blood, as if it were fetching her for life as a sea fugitive.
All of a sudden, something silver twitched in the corner of her reflection.
The trance faded. She turned.
A barracuda glittered. Its silver eye stared directly at her with a lifeless hunger. She lived with plenty of barracudas in the trench, but none of them ever looked at her before. This one was perfectly still.
Her blood ran cold. The mermaid took a sharp breath.
Just then, a swoosh propelled the barracuda forward to attack, but the mermaid was faster. Somehow, water was always on her side.
Catalina swam away, out of the ship, and into the heart of the trench. The mermaid was panting. She swam all the way to the sandy bottom. She planted her tail in the cool sand, trying to make sense of what happened. Tears streamed down her face. A mermaid’s tears were far heavier than drops of water; they fell to the sand faster than cannons.
Catalina held the mirror close to her scaly hip, but didn’t dare look at her reflection again.
“Well, that was a close call,” someone said. She had a silky and feminine voice.
“Wait, who are you?” Catalina spun to look around.
A black and white sea snake hovered in the dark water. A blue pearl glowed over her third eye. The mermaid was startled, as she was so used to being invisible.
“My name’s Lyra. And I believe you were looking for this, young mermaid,” The snake said and offered the mermaid the broken piece of coral on her flat, paddle-like tail. Catalina grabbed it. Immediately she heard a sunny, warm echo.
“Oh wow! Thank you! I just lost this. Did you know that it's coral?” The mermaid’s words tripped over each other.
“Yes, of course. I am from the reef;” Lyra said.
“Really? You are? So, you’ve seen the sun?” Catalina asked and became even more excited. Her heart was racing again.
“Yes, of course,” the snake said. Her gaze penetrated deep, beyond the mermaid’s curiosity.
“Hold on… How do you know I was looking for this coral?” Catalina asked. She realized that while swimming away from the barracuda she had dropped the larger piece of coral, but not the mirror.
“Snakes always know more than they seem to perceive,” Lyra said. Her third eye flickered.
Catalina heard the water moving around the snake, but she couldn’t understand what it whispered. She felt something slither up her spine.
“Well, I want you to tell me about the corals. I have always wanted to go to the reef and swim in the sunlight. Ever since I was a small mer-”
“Oh really? Then why haven’t you gone?” the snake interrupted. Her voice became cold.
“Well…” Catalina couldn’t answer. Nobody asked her a hard question before.
“I can tell, nothing’s really stopping you from swimming up to the coral reef,” Lyra said. Her words were raw.
“I just… never thought of it that way before,” Catalina said, losing her confidence.
“That's because you only ever think what Oceanus wants you to think,” the snake said.
“Oh, you know Oceanus?”
“Yes, we’ve met before,” the snake said with a chill in her voice. “Do you always do what dragons ask?”
The mermaid gasped. When she looked at the snake her eyes stayed a fixed, ashen gray.
“You may have dreamed dreams for yourself, but have you ever done anything for yourself? I bet you’re going to stay in this trench and wait for the barracuda to come back and get you,” the snake said. Lyra lunged at the mermaid in jest, driving her point home with a snap of her sharp, curved teeth. One drop of her venom would put any creature into completely immersive hypnosis.
Catalina shivered.
“How did the barracuda see me? How can you see me? And hear me? Only Oceanus has ever heard me.”
“Hush… “ Lyra hesitated on her words, as if she knew better than to tell Catalina too much, “I will say, every higher snake knows of only one thing that can lift a mermaid’s invisibility. That’s when she faces her reflection in a mirror. Only then will she understand her power. Then she becomes free for the world to see.”
“You mean there are other mermaids?”
“Not yet, you’re the first”.
“What? Then how can you speak of others?” Catalina was bewildered.
“Young mermaid, you have a fate. And as soon as you looked into that mirror you became visible. You want to go to the coral reef. And you should. The trench isn’t safe for you anymore. But you’re going to let an old dragon stop you? I guess you’ll die belonging to him, then,” Lyra hissed.
“But Oceanus said I am safe in the trench.” the mermaid pointed out.
“Yes, he may have said that. But Oceanus doesn’t know what just happened,” Lyra continued, ravishing every word.
“Because I saw my reflection?”
“Yes,” the snake said.
“Can you tell me about the coral reef?” Catalina asked, and passionate colors flashed in her enchanted eyes.
“Young mermaid, experiences are far greater than stories,” Lyra said, her voice trailing away. No mermaid had powers great enough to hypnotize a higher snake. Lyra vanished into the shadows.
Catalina was hiding beneath a rocky outcrop on the trench wall. Everything was different now that she could be seen; she was scared of the sharks. They were deeply evolved, and glowing blue warpaint decorated their gray bodies. Her heart raced until she wondered if some creature could hear her, cowering in the shadows.
The ocean whispered. Catalina heard sunlight kisssing the water’s surface.
She decided to make a mad dash, to swim as fast as possible out of the trench. There was no time to sneak through shipwrecks and shadows. She was going straight up.
Catalina sped from the sandy bottom and came face-to-face with a dozen sharks. They turned inwards, circling around the shiny, red mercreature. Catalina flapped her tail. The sharks stared at each other in confusion, wondering where their prey went. She kept swimming until the trench, and all its monsters, lay behind her.
She emerged into an underwater valley. As she soared, the water became warmer.
Catalina broke the surface. The air was disorienting and mystic. She laid on top of the ocean, her body rocking with the waves. There was a half moon, burning blue at sunrise. It pulled the ocean into a gentle surge, and the young mermaid went with its flow. The sun was just about the peak over the horizon, though it already warmed her alabaster skin.
Suddenly the sun and moon both stopped. She heard the water freeze, but not from being cold. It froze in celestial stillness. The planet stopped spinning. The moon stopped orbitting. The sun was stuck at sunrise. There were no more waves and no more tides.
Still, there was a whisper from the coral reef. She darted towards the sun.
*** *** ***
Oceanus noticed that Catalina had stopped singing, but he was unbothered. He figured she had fallen asleep. The dragon took his time warming himself in the sunny shallows.
It wasn’t until he returned to the trench did he feel that something was wrong. Catalina was nowhere to be found. And he started to feel like he was being watched.
“I heard you were treating the young mermaid like treasure,” the Kraken said.
“Argh!” Oceanus shook his head, but no matter where he looked the Kraken was right in front of him. “What did you do with her?”
“Oh, water dragon, the young mermaid left on her own accord. She finally swam up to the corals on her own,” the Kraken screamed. “You wanted to hoard her, like all the glittering treasures weighing down wood in the trench. The mermaid has her fate, Oceanus, and it’s not under your control.”
“Where is she, Kraken?”
“Well, it’s really not a matter of where she is. The mermaid could be right in front of you and you wouldn’t see her,” screamed the Kraken.
“Just tell me what’s going on. I haven’t got time for your riddles,” the dragon murmured.
“Oh water dragon, I know you’ve got nothing but time.”
Oceanus lashed out at the Kraken, but of course it had no physical body for him to reach. The dragon tripped over his own hasty strikes.
“I have paused time, but only for the mermaid. The sun and blue moon will stay fixed for her. She is frozen in time.You have an issue with your ego, with control, with possessing the mermaid. The Kraken must use time to teach your soul. But not your time. I know time is your abundance, water dragon. I am using Catalina’s time to teach you your lessons.”
The dragon roared. His throat summoned a flame, which turned to ash in his mouth.
“It’s time to let her go,” the Kraken said.
“How long will time be frozen for the mermaid?” the dragon asked.
“How long? That’s the wrong question, water dragon. Nothing can measure the length of frozen time!” The Kraken screamed. Lightning struck the ocean’s surface, with such a powerful flash that it stunned the dragon’s eyes.
The Kraken was gone. Oceanus dove deeper into the trench, his claws tracing the amethyst trench walls with a maddening squeal. He sank all the way to the sandy bottom, curled into a scaly ball, and wept into the ocean.
In fact, it was his lonely tears which started the ocean in the first place. Many moons ago, his tears formed a sea. It summoned storms. And the storms brought more water. Eventually sea life emerged. Oceanus saw it all, even the fossils buried beneath layers of sediment once lived beside him. For Oceanus, there was no escape. He faced an endless life of beginnings and endings.
It was then, lying as a defeated heap in the trench, Oceanus recognized Catalina. She answered the call of the ocean, just like him. And Catalina would meet every drop, all in her own time.