The breeze is calm and fresh off the sea. The Majestic had stayed in port at the Creature Refuge for a while, and it would stay there until Clarinet laid her first clutch by her mate, Pierre. Off in the rocky alcoves, a blue dragon named Richard snoozes, snoring deeply. Richard and Tren had easily become friends, for both shared a deep love for music, but Richard has his bondmate in Indyana, the Refuge's owner. Huddled around the mast is Clarinet, her smooth, snake-like body coiled in tight against the breeze. Sandrylene, sleeping soundly in her cabin, is nowhere to be seen.
Tren, however, can not sleep. Dreams had plagued him for some time while the ship stayed in port. At first, they were simply fleeting visions, haunts from his past. Now, however, they are detailed and deep, telling him more than he cares to know.
Tonight's had started out like many others. He had been standing beside a rocky cliff in the moonlight, and the breeze had been calm then, too. A partial-Marian trumpeter sat atop the cliff, and he belted out a long tone on a shell, and then waters rose above them both. Tren was not frightened of water; he had no need to be, and so, in his dream, he let the waters rise above his neck. The trumpeter swam down to him, and that is where it had become odd. Instead of swimming passed him, the trumpeter stopped and addressed him.
"You are not coming?" the other Marian had asked in a flowing stream of the Marian language.
"Coming where?" Tren had replied, surprised at how easily he had responded in the tongue he only half-knew.
The trumpeter had rolled his eyes. "We have been calling you for months, and yet you don't know to where? You will know when you awaken. For now, I shall tell you this: my name is Aki, and I will be your guide. You must leave for the deep ocean when you awaken. Your friends will be saddened by your sudden departure, but they will understand. Go, Tren Galdro. Your destiny awaits."
The vision had faded like a human was viewing it in the salty depths. Amusingly, Tren then had a dream of a horse that taught school, but it held neither significance nor a subtle message, and he quickly forgot its details. He had awakened around midnight.
The breeze seems to call his name, whispering the word "Tren" as if it were the hushed voice of a beckoning woman. Tren shakes his head, cursing his loneliness. He has a friend in Sandrylene, but he can not be his object of affection; she loved Clar; he, her. Tren had respected that, and so whatever he felt for Sandrylene was deeply hidden, so much so, in fact, that he did not even know it.
"Tren," the breeze sighs again. Tren unfolds a slip of parchment, scribbles on it with a quill, both of which he had commandeered from the galley, and tacks the note to the deck of the ship with the quill's sharp tip.
"I'm coming," Tren tells the breeze, returning to the side of the ship. "I'm coming," he repeats. The breeze calls him again, and he hops the railing and slips, silently, into the water.
Back on the deck, Clarinet peals open her eyes. *Good luck, Tren,* she projects quietly. Upon closer inspection, she is smiling happily for the sea-dweller.
When Tren awoke, he was on an ornate couch, his head propped up by squishy, pillowy things. All around him is water, and the room is bright with light, despite the dark stone of its smooth, glassy walls. A light, lilting music wafts through the room. It directs Tren's attention to a man, one similar to the one from his dream, sitting across the room and playing a flute.
Surprised that music can be heard underwater, Tren tries to sit up. He finds it unbelievably difficult, and he winds up falling over to his side and off the couch rather than sitting up. The flute-player falters, looks up, and chuckles.
"The world's pull on us is stronger here, Milord, than it is on the surface; little separates us now," the other says, helping Tren to his feet.
"Aki, right?" Tren asks, steadying himself.
The man nods. "Yes," he says. "Also, it is more difficult to walk across the bottom of the sea than it is the top of the land. You will grow used to the water's tendencies soon enough." Aki smiles, holding Tren's arm to steady him as the partial-Marian wobbles to the only doorway in the room.
"Where are we, and where are we going?" he asks, staring around at the smoothed, seemingly natural grotto and its subtly artificial graces.
"We are in Harniok, the Marian city-state, and we are going to visit your mother, the Queen," Aki replies matter-of-factly.
Tren falls to the ground with a misplaced foot. "My what?" he demands, taking Aki's extended hand and pulling himself back to his feet. "If I didn't know better, I could have sworn you'd said my mother."
"I did," Aki replies calmly. "Your mother is Queen of Harniok."
Tren sighs. "I think you have the wrong guy," he says simply enough. "I never knew either of my parents. How can you be so certain that I am her son?"
Aki smiles, but he says nothing. Instead, he walks onward, leaving Tren to follow or be left behind and unanswered. Shaking his head slowly, Tren follows. What choice does he have?
The throne room is massive. The ceiling is high and of semi-translucent orange stone. The walls are of the same smooth, black stone, and this time, there are many plants growing out of hidden alcoves and what. Tren can not help but stop and gawk, standing there in the middle of the doorway to the throne room.
Noticing the lack of his charge, Aki turns around and drags Tren by his wrist to the area before the King Consort. He is heavy-set with a sickly greenish tint to his skin. His hair is thin and wispy, though a mousy brown that clashes terribly with his Marian nature. He is probably at least a half-Marian, for no full-Marian would have such a mismatched body. Most are like the queen, who sits beside the King Consort.
She is thin and straight, like a single spire or a needle. Her skin is deep blue, her hair dark green, and her eyes pewter gray. Her neck is longish and her countenance is imperial. She regards Aki and Tren with a reserved amusement, a slight smile creeping onto her lips. Her gills are large and red, healthy with the flow of oxygen. Her nose is still there, though it is all but invisible, one of the few reminders that Marians and Surface Dwellers were once one and the same race, separated by some catastrophe or jealousy.
Aki drops to his knees and flourishes an arm at Tren, who is, unsurprisingly, still staring about the high-ceilinged, underwater palace. He takes in the lavish textures that carpet the floors, the plants woven into tapestries that hang about the hall, the colors and gaiety evident almost everywhere.
"Your Highnesses," Aki says, his voice trembling with a tint of pride. "I have sought long and hard, but I do believe that this is your lost heir. May I present to you, milord, m'lady, Tren Ipsi Galdro."
A collective gasp flows through those in attendance, a sort of sound that makes the whole occasion seem more than a little rehearsed to Tren, who simply stands there, staring at the King Consort and the Queen. He glances down at Aki. "You'd been practicing that, hadn't you?" he asks. Aki merely chuckles nervously in reply.
"My son!" the Queen calls, rising from her throne and float-walking down the stairs to where Tren and Aki stand. She embraces him before holding him out at arm's length and inspecting him. She glances from him to Aki and back again, numerous times in succession before standing back, letting her arms fall, and smiling at him. "You've finally returned after all these years." Her tone is kind and calm, much like the water in which she stands.
"Umm… Yes, I suppose I did," Tren admits, more than a little confused.
"You don't remember this place, do you?"
"No," he admits, feeling a bit guilty for not recalling something so trivial as a childhood home.
"That's understandable," the Queen replies consolingly. "Indeed, it's probably better that you don't recall this place. You will not then be pained at its passing."
"Passing? What do you mean?"
"We're all to be dead soon, Tren. We had Aki, your brother, call you here, for he has an uncanny connection to your dreams, so that you can perform for us a favor."
"Come again?"
"Aki is your brother, your twin. You and he were born to me by a human man -"
The whole court gasps and cuts off her sentence.
"Quiet you! You all knew that back when it really was a scandal … twenty years ago!"
Murmurs about the crowd admit her truth, and they silence to allow her to continue with her tale.
"I, myself, am a half-Marian, my father being human, too. So, therefore, you are both one quarter Marian, three-quarters human. It's amazing that both of you can survive underwater and above the surface. Thus, for that reason, when your father had to move onward, I gave him one of his sons. Somehow, I fear, he had lost you, for others had found his sunken ship far from here. In any event, you are more our species than Aki is, though both of you are immune to the Plague."
"What plague?" Tren queries.
"The Plague was carried to us by a massive, orange creature who had been imprisoned a bit ago. It died up current from Harniok, and the Plague spread to our city. It is only by the extreme force of our wills that we all appear healthy now. Besides this, the Plague is only transmitted at the death of one of its carriers. We hope to exterminate it, by quarantining the city after you two leave."
"I'm not leaving you, Mother!" Aki cuts in from his kneel on the ground.
"The Maelstrom you're not!" she replies, dispatching his misgivings with a cold stare.
Tren nods in understanding. "I get the point. Because he and I are as yet immune to the Plague, you want us to do something for you. What is that something?"
"Aki can not perform what I must ask of you. He is too human. He has too much of his father and grandfather in him. Therefore, you, my son, must do it. I beg of you, as Queen to Prince of Harniok, as well as mother to son, you must do this for us!"
"What is it?" His curiosity is really getting the better of him now.
"Promise you will do it, regardless of what the favor is."
Tren is becoming annoyed. "I shall do whatever it is you ask of me," he answers heavily.
The Queen clasps her hands together with enthusiasm. "Splendid!" she cries, throwing herself upon her son and embracing him, ultimately thrusting him to the floor in the low-gravity water. Embarrassed, she hurries to her feet before helping Tren to his. She smoothes imagined wrinkles from her robes and smiles at Tren. "We will take you to the preparation chamber soon." She nods her head and three aides dash off through a discreet door. "In the meantime, why don't you and Aki catch up a little?"
"So you've lived here all your life?" Tren asks Aki as they stroll down the steps to the garden.
"Hardly! I may love Mother dearly, but I can barely stand to be in the same town as she for more than a month." He sighs. "No, I traveled, as soon as I was old enough to venture off on my own. Even when I was young, she would let me take a group of teachers out, and we would go camping or fish-watching, or something silly like that. Now that I'm a bit older, I prefer exploring ancient, abandoned grottos and the like. She couldn't easily touch me, once I located you through your dreams. Quite an interesting life you've had, brother." Aki smiles and begins to lead the way down a cultivated path of sand.
"Barely. The same thing day in, day out," Tren replies blandly.
"The romantic oppression of your personage," Aki adds wistfully.
"You're one messed-up idealist."
"So I've been told."
Tren and Aki exchange amused glances before laughing. The two continue along the path, chatting. Before long, they are in front of the palace once more. The Queen is waiting for them.
"Boys, come this way. We want to hurry you on your ways. You know why. If it were up to me, you would stay as long as you could, but this is to prevent your pain and ours. Come," she says, her words quick, calm, and flowing. She leads the way into the palace.
"Come on, Aki! Stop being so obstinate! You have to go out there, too. Make it at least seem like a group effort!" one of the courtiers is scolding Tren's new-found brother as the Queen, the King Consort, and the two young men are led out onto a terrace overlooking a massive crowd gathered on the ocean floor.
"My people!" the Queen cries. "After much struggling and patience, may I present to you my son, Tren Ipsi Galdro the third." She beams with pride, takes Tren by his shoulder, and shows him to the crowd before continuing. "Tren has, quite generously, volunteered to take with him our memories, so we will never be truly dead to this world." She stops, smiles, and leans over the balcony to address the people. "What do we saaaaay?" she asks.
"Thank you, Good Lord Tren," the masses chorus. They remind Tren of a school of youngsters who just received a treat. To a point, it is a bit sickening how they overindulge the Queen.
"Um, Your Majesty," Tren manages quietly.
"Hmmm? What do you want, Sweetums?" the Queen asks, turning back to her son. "Oh! And you can call me 'Mom' if you would prefer." She grins.
"Marians have healing powers, don't we? Shouldn't we be able to cure the Plague easily enough?"
"You're wrong, there. Marians have latent healing powers. Half-Marians have full healing powers for surface dwellers. They're really useless here."
"Did you try to use them?"
The Queen ponders this for a moment or two before shrugging. "I can't seem to remember," she admits.
"But-"
"Mom's had lots of stuff on her mind lately, which is why I came home. They did try, or at least some of them did. It seemed it sped up the process instead of slowing it," Aki supplies.
"That's it!" the Queen cries perkily, punching her fist.
"That's what?" Tren asks, for he had thought she was doing something other than paying attention to her sons.
"Umm... What he said." She laughs bubbily before turning back to her subjects. "Let us go to the Memory Absorption Chamber!" she declares imperiously. She leads the way down the stairs and into an ampitheather-type complex.
"I prefer to call it the MAC," Aki admits, following his mother with a sigh. He makes certain Tren is following. After all, if one of them has to be tormented with her final hours of cheer, they may as well both be.
Background by Backgrounds 2000.