Seas and Skies

She hissed and writhed behind the confines of the large metallic bars. Her dark green hair hung in thick strips, limpid around her sallow face.

    "Give it back," she screeched, banging against the walls, afraid to touch the metal bars, her blood smearing across the gray stone.

"Silence," a voice bellowed from further down the long dark corridor. It sounded hesitant, unsure of itself.

    This dungeon, of human conception, was preferably dark for her sensitive eyes, but the frozen wetness, metal, and stone agitated her. Furthermore, she was trapped by this insufferable supernatural darkness, a bleak sludge-like magic that left her cramped, short of breath, and unable to even see her hands.

    What thoughts she had drifted away and was swept like sand into the sea, what stormy strength she had began to weaken into mist, her courage was slipping away like eels through coral.  

    There was a dense pause of silence, a moment of deliberation.

    "Why did you come here?" The same mysterious human voice echoed from deeper within the darkness, surrounding her and battering against her ears. She could only sense one human in the corridor, but more waited elsewhere, they always managed to be everywhere at once.

    She crouched down. She couldn't see the bars, but she could feel their iron. It burned, not only because of the metal — antithetical to her fey nature — but because of the cold and frost. There was no give to the metal, or the hard packed rocks that surrounded it.

        "And why would I tell you anything?" She shook her head and chuckled, fingering the spot where her necklace should have been, a string and silver amulet that rested against her dark grey flash.

    There was no chance for her to call on a power that was currently unreachable without the focus of her mother's amulet. It was the last remaining artifact from Father Sea and Mother Sky, long before they started their feud. It was the only object that hadn't been destroyed when her mother had been found among the charred, wooden pyre of human ignorance.

    In the element of darkness, her sight was best, but the humans had conjured an unholy night to blind her now. It was a sorcerer’s darkness, made to bear down on her psyche and slow down her wits. Humans had an uncanny magic, from an unknown, unfamiliar source.

    She turned away from the human voice, edging further into the stone and frost prison. She skirted around the corners, shuffling on tiny bare feet, touching the perimeters, trying to find its weaknesses.

    "You will find no escape, unless you tell us why you came," the darkness spoke, it seemed more sure of itself now. Gaining courage from her blind shambling.

    It was too hard to tell the gender of the voice; humans all sounded alike to her untrained ears. In her homeland, by the sea, in the cavernous realm of water and sky, she could easily tell her people apart. Physicality stayed mostly the same, but hair color and skin color varied amongst the sea fey folk. Humans all looked the same: lumpy, pale, pink, but not weak. No, one did not underestimate humans as she had. Her fey protective nature had gotten the best of her, and now she was imprisoned in impenetrable darkness, metal, and frost.

    "Not until you give me back my amulet," she lied, pressing up against the bars without touching them. Her teeth chattered, her legs shook, and the stress of her strained muscles fed her anxiety.

    "Why did you come here, sea fey," the darkness said once more, "We do not take kindly to your ilk amongst us. Too many times, your kind has brought mischief and mayhem to our villages. We proceeded with caution upon the notice of your arrival," the darkness was gruff and devoid of any emotion reaction to her bravado. For a human, a race of irrational emotional creatures, this lack of response was unnerving.

    She crooned, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Oh, human," tears sprang forth as she laughed, "you think we bring your turmoil." Her head and shoulders swayed like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.

    "Yes," the voice barked, the darkness vibrated now with agitation, "When your ilk slinks through our towns, you bring storm, wind, and destruction." She felt mollified by the agitation, something to mark this voice as human, an emotional response that she could work with.

    "No," she said, drawing a deep breath of excitement as clarity burst through her befuddled mind. She felt a stabbing fear in her cold heart, fear of iron mechanisms and human magic; it urged her to speak the truth.

    “Can I barter with you human? Will you give me freedom if I speak the truth?” She said, standing up straight and facing where she felt the iron bars. Maybe she could barter words with the human, a truth for her freedom, maybe she could strike a bargain.

    Before the human could respond the magic wrenched her words out, her heart screamed in terror, her freedom felt further away then ever. Her words were stilted and staccato as they were pulled forth.

     "No,” she stuttered, “we come because the balance of nature is distraught. Father Sea and Mother Sky fight, and we calm them, before they destroy too much in their feuds. Sometimes we come too late."

    She brought her hands to her face, the acrid scent of her blood, mingled with dirt, filled her sense. Tears pebbled from her grey eyes, glowing in the dark, but no visible light cast from the tears. The sky trembled far above human perception, whispering Mother Sky’s furry, "I'm too late now..."

    At the prediction of her words a preternaturally loud rumble of thunder shook the entire dungeon. She knelt on the floor, shaking her head back and forth as the storm commenced. She hummed, but found that trying to soothe Mother Sky was nigh impossible within the depths of this earthen dungeon. Without her amulet as a focus, there would be no way for her to quell the oncoming storm.

    "Cease your devilry at once," the darkness yelled with a quivering voice, "Your magics will not be tolerated here." The air grew steadily warmer with the human's rising ire and fright.

    She fought her anger, ignoring the human, feebly attempting to sway Mother Sky from her rivalry.  The weight of the wet earth burdened her from reaching attunement.

    Her concentration was shattered as the sound of distant battle issued from further down the corridor, yells of confusion drifted from above.

    Beyond the dungeon, there were several sonorous bangs, metal clashed against metal, curses in a muffled human tongue, and an eerie silence that was promptly overwhelmed by the sound of Mother Sky’s furry.

    A tinkle of familiar boyish laughter filled the corridor, "Foolish humans." A startled cry came from her human captor. A strangled, gurgled cry came from its direction.

    There was a sudden loud crash of thunder, and with it grew a modicum of light that highlighted two figures. One black robed figure, her captor, lay prone on the ground. Beyond lay a heavy wooden door with several iron swords pierced into it. There were multiple human guards that also lay incapacitated like her captor.

    She gaped at the scene, “Were those all for me?” She whispered, confused at the unfounded paranoia of humans.

    She looked back to her unconscious captor, and then looked past him at the smiling, short fellow with dark seaweed green hair and stormy gray skin. The newcomer’s clothes were of an equal stormy gray, and his brown eyes sparkled with mirth. With him came the heartwarming scent of the sea: brine, fish, sand, and sun.

    "Hello, little sister," her brother said, reaching down with gray leather gloved hands to retrieve the iron-cast keys to her cell, "For your first attempt at quelling, this wasn't too bad." He chuckled and threw the keys up in the air before jingling them at her leering face.

    "Though I honestly can’t see why you needed to come so close to this,” he gestured to her surroundings. He pulled open the cell door, frowning with disgust at the human contraption, "That was rather thoughtless of you, Kelda."

    She kept her eyes downcast as she skittered out of the cell, trembling as she passed the metal bars, "I could hear Mother Sky better here. Father Sea was too loud by the shores." Though true, her excuse sounded weak.

    Her brother patted her on the shoulder; "That’s a pitiful excuse, Kelda. You know better than to come so close to humans. Do you want what happened to mother to happen to you?” He scowled now, disgust marring his otherwise pretty features. Whether it was aimed towards her or the humans was indistinguishable.

    His features softened as he regarded her with bemusement and a smile, “You'll get better with time."

    Kai’s joviality was renowned; many a tittering laughter could be heard from the dainty fey who followed him around. Concerning her, his acerbic tongue lashed out of protectiveness for his last living sibling, but his humor was not far from following. She tried to smile, but a heavy sigh was all she could summon.

    She walked over to the unconscious human, "Do you think they'll ever understand how much we do for them?" She prodded the human with a finger, feeling gently for her amulet within the folds of the robes with her other hand.

    With no success at finding her amulet she rushed to her brother's side. He put an arm around her and steered her towards the door.

    She rubbed her hands and wrists. Gnawing on her lip to stop tears from forming in her eyes she admitted to her brother in a soft whisper, "They stole mother's amulet."

    She was becoming incensed now that the human’s black magic was lifted. The oncoming rage at her insensitive treatment, the stealing of the last focus of her people, and the years of pain caused by humanity all reached a final crossroads. After generations of maligning sea fey as malefactors, the misnomers as miscreants, and the continued malediction against sea fey in every city — all of this highlighted of her fury. The irrational persecution and death of the sea fey, especially her mother, was the crux.

    Kai must have felt her bridled agitation because he went still, frozen mid-step, and for a moment she expected his retribution and anger to be directed at her, instead her brother said, "Well," Kai’s voice was cold enough to send shivers down her spine, "we'll just have to find it."

    She nodded. Her agitation gained weight, speed, and yearned to be expended on all the trifling, useless humans. She wanted them to understand, she wanted to protect them, but with Mother Sky raging above, imbibing her with anger, it was hard to think clearly. Even her brother was inebriated with Mother Sky’s fury.

    Kelda’s glowing grey eyes sparked with uncontrolled anger, "This human might know where mother's amulet is being held. We can lock them up,” she pulled the iron door close, the sizzling sound of her flesh was a remote melody of pain, “we can make them tell us." In all sea fey’s base nature they hated the prospect of harming humans, but Kelda’s wits were clouded by magic and a hatred that was churned by Mother Sky.

    The human was stirring. "We should do it quickly before the human gains full consciousness," Kelda whispered.