Deep in the ocean, a young woman with a fish tail lay on her belly, chin propped in her palms, watched two crabs lock pincers in a furious brawl across the seabed.
Their shells clattered, sand puffed up in little clouds, and Celestine found herself oddly entertained by the miniature duel. One crab had a broken pincer, but it kept charging forward stubbornly, refusing to back down. Celestine smirked. That one's me, she thought. Outmatched, but still fighting.
This was Celestine—the blue warrior mermaid. Her long black hair swayed rhythmically with the currents, fanning around her face like dark ribbons. Smooth, angelic skin gleamed under the shifting rays of sunlight filtering down from the surface. A careful arrangement of seaweed and polished shells covered her chest, while her shimmering blue tail arched above the algae like a proud banner.
But then,something prickled at her senses. A presence behind her, heavy and unmistakable.
"Anyone in need of my help?" she called lightly, though her eyes never left the battling crabs.
The reply came sharp and dripping with disdain.
"Help? From you?" A woman's voice, cool as the currents, rolled through the water. "I wouldn't expect anything from a powerless creature like you."
Celestine spun, and her gaze locked on the orange-tailed mermaid before her. The water seemed to hush around them. Tiny fish scattered into the shadows.
A gleaming spear was clutched in the stranger's hand, its point aimed casually as though it needed only the smallest flick to strike. The sight made Celestine's heart tighten.
And that was Klara. The head of all warrior mermaids.
Her very presence radiated authority. The currents shifted subtly with each beat of her powerful tail, and even the light seemed to bend toward her, sparking against the edge of her weapon.
"I am not useless," Celestine snapped, her voice rising like a stormwave. "As soon as I awaken my powers, you'll see. I am special."
Klara's lips curved into a smile that was more threat than kindness. "Special? Perfect. Then prove it." She pointed her spear toward the shadowy form sinking above them. A boy—human, limp, drifting slowly toward the oceanbed. Beyond him, sinking debris were all over. An evidence of a recent shipwreck.
Celestine's breath caught.
"Why don't you save that half-lifeless land boy?" Klara's tone was cruel amusement. "If you succeed, perhaps you're as special as you claim."
Around them, other mermaids gathered, their different coloured tails flashing like banners as they circled the scene. Their voices rose in a cruel chorus.
One swirled her tail in mock applause, another whispered into her sister's ear before both broke into shrill laughter. Their jeers carried like distorted bells through the water.
"You can do it!" one mocked.
"If you fail, maybe that strange tattoo of yours will finally mean something!"Another chimed, her grin sharp enough to cut.
Celestine's jaw clenched, her thoughts burning hotter than the salt around her.
No way. I will not let them have this victory. This humiliation ends today.
Without a second's hesitation, she shot upward, tail slicing through the water as she raced for the boy. She wrapped her arms around him, startled by how heavy he felt. His dark hair floated around his pale face, and bubbles trickled from his parted lips. His weight dragged her downward, threatening to pin her to the ocean floor.
She kicked harder, powerful tail beating against the currents, but every stroke drained her strength. The boy's head lolled against her shoulder, eyes shut tight, skin cold to the touch. He had minutes—maybe seconds.
Celestine's gaze darted upward. The surface shimmered faintly, impossibly far, the sunlight fractured into broken shards. To her, it felt like she was trying to reach another world.
I can't fail. Not now. Not in front of them.
But her arms trembled, muscles burning as though the boy's body were carved from stone. The distance was crushing. Every beat of her heart thundered louder, echoing in her skull. The pressure of the deep pressed against her ribs until she could barely draw a breath.
What do I do? What can I do? Her mind screamed in panic.
Then, a strange warmth pulsed against her skin. Startled, she glanced down. The tattoo etched along her arm—the one she had always hidden, always been mocked for—was glowing. Faint light blue at first, then brighter, a steady thrum of light that pushed back the shadows.
Celestine's eyes widened, but she dared not stop swimming. Her chest burned, her body screamed, and yet the light seemed to surge in time with her heartbeat.
"You better make it to the shore, Celestine," she whispered hoarsely to herself, clutching the boy tighter. "You have no choice."
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For the less fortunate in life, there's always something powerful within their reach. Come, let's see what's in for our ambitious Celestine.