Once upon a time mermaids exist.
And castles.
And princes.
And villains.
But never witch, and princesses.
Silverleaf stands above the bricked walls of old shops where hopes were traded for a three year memory.
The old shops breathe on the path made of leaves and twigs and wishes. It ascended to the tower that looks up to heaven forever, to the turrets which the clouds never abandon, to the place where the prince lived. With his wicked uncle.
His mother, with a hair the colour of winter and eyes where dreams lay, died after childbirth. His father whose veins were made up of stars and heart of sandcastle, was murdered in his sleep. And he, the prince, like his parents, will inevitably be killed.
When the time comes.
After he had been crowned.
Before he rules the land.
As he was young and the air was crisp and the day luminous and everything the shade of honey, the mermaid found the prince. Her scales glitter in the sun like crystals basking in summer glow. Her hair was dripped in promises. Her eyes the shade of lilac, of verse, of those people whose world has been swallowed by the sea.
She said hello to the prince.
And smiled.
And the prince fell in love.
As everything does.
Before it falls apart.
The prince went back beside the cave wall, on the stone, to meet the mermaid, day after day. He told her endless tales about burnt maps and oil lamps and treasures and pirates and chivalry. He promised her great lands, and gold. He said he'd build a vast ocean inside the palace where she would live, after he had married her. He said they would have children whose name would be the name of the remote islands, of silence, of the distant worlds and secret happiness. It was the place where he looked at her, interminably. And kissed her. And made love to her. In summer time. On the stone.
And in that moment, I swear they were infinite.
It came. The prince was hailed as the king. The greed to be fulfilled. The uncle to do the act. The death to arrive. The prince to breathe his last.
So with a sword made of glass and unicorn's tears, he stabbed the prince and twisted his heart and snapped its beat like a flower's stem. In disbelief the prince moved back. In triumph his uncle laughed. The prince's hand darted in his pocket, felt the flusk, parted his mouth, exhaled her name and locked her memory in the bottle. The prince fell down. The bottled broke and scattered themselves like confetti. His heed fluttered away from his palm, into neverwhere.
He stooped low, the uncle, and carried the dead body of the prince to the cave, beside the stone. And owned the palace and ruled the land.
The mermaid emerged from the water, held his neck, pecked on his cheek as if marking him hers, and took him to the place where every second never ceases.
And down
And down
And away
they
went.
~Lacus Crystalthorn 2012
