Silver and Blue, Part II

However, when both kingdoms began preparing for war, starlight delivered a warning to the northern mermaids, while moonlight offered guidance to those in the south. Both celestial forces urged them to seek a path other than conflict.
The northern mermaids heeded the starlight and recognised its wisdom. Likewise, the southern mermaids accepted the moonlight’s counsel and resolved to act with caution.

Thus, both realms began to patrol their borders. From time to time, a southern mermaid would encounter one from the north. They would circle one another warily, like sharks, before eventually swimming on. After all, they placed their trust in the wisdom of the celestial lights.

After a few years, however, restlessness grew on both sides. Once again, the southern mermaids turned to moonlight for guidance, while those in the north sought support from starlight. Both celestial forces strove to prevent bloodshed.
Starlight advised the northern mermaids to choose their greatest warrior, fully aware that the mermaids under moonlight would do the same. The two champions should face one another in combat.

Moonlight and starlight were convinced that the sides were evenly matched. In time, exhaustion would give way to clarity, and all mermaids would come to understand that their strength was equal. The warriors would put down their weapons and the two kingdoms could finally be at peace.

So, the southern mermaids sent forth their champion. His name was Meorelin. His hair was red like foam coral, and his fin and eyes were the turquoise of the calm southern seas. The northern mermaids chose Raehl, their greatest warrior. Her hair was as white as snow, and her fin and eyes shimmered with a dark, silvery gleam.

The mermaids of both realms gathered at the border as Meorelin and Raehl began their duel. At first, it was clear that they were evenly matched. He fought with a white blade blessed by moonlight, while she wielded a silver sword imbued with the power of starlight. They moved through the water like flashes of turquoise and silver, fierce and graceful, driven by courage and resolve.

As the sun set, the moon rose, and stars began to sparkle in the darkening sky, the battle still raged on. Yet their movements had grown sluggish, and they struggled to lift their weapons. Still, neither would yield. The mermaids of both south and north continued to cheer them on, though many began to wonder how much longer the fight could possibly last.

Both warriors came to realise that neither could triumph while the other remained so unwavering in their belief. It dawned on Meorelin that perhaps starlight was the greater force, while Raehl began to wonder whether moonlight might, in fact, be stronger than starlight. A sense of desperation overtook them both. And before they fully understood what they were about to do, moonlight and starlight looked on in dismay—realising, what they had set in motion:

Meorelin let out a cry and lunged at Raehl, leaving himself exposed as he drove his blade into her stomach. Raehl seized the moment and, with the last of her strength, plunged her sword into his neck. Arm in arm—silver and turquoise—they sank into the depths of the sea, fading into the darkness where neither moonlight nor starlight could reach. A stunned silence fell over both sides. No one spoke. No one knew what to say. How had it come to this?

‘Your warrior cheated!’ a northern mermaid suddenly shouted. ‘There was no chivalry in his attack—no honour in his strike!’

‘Your warrioress stabbed him in the neck as if Meorelin were nothing but easy prey!’ a southern mermaid shot back at the northern side.

‘You are all traitors!’ another northern voice screamed.

‘We shall meet in battle when the sun rises!’ cried a southern mermaid. ‘We shall avenge Meorelin!’

‘And we shall avenge Raehl,’ replied a northern mermaid, their voice as cold as ice.

The northern mermaids departed, preparing for battle, while the southern mermaids returned to their homes to ready themselves for war.
Above the kingdoms, the moon shone in all her brilliance, surrounded by silent stars. No wisdom reached the mermaids that night. And by morning, the crests of the waves in both realms were stained red with blood.

Both sides had launched their attacks under cover of darkness.
In the days that followed, the fighting raged on. Warrior after warrior fell. Mermaid after mermaid was slain. Moons passed, and the mermaids of the South and the North forgot what had sparked their feud.

Time passed, and moons turned into years. Years became centuries, and generations of mermaids were born into war and perished in battle.
The conflict raged on for five hundred years. The moon and the stars bore witness to it all—silent, horrified.

Though there were moments of ceasefire, they never held for long. A misunderstanding, a careless word, the smallest spark could ignite yet another great battle. Moonlight and starlight were wielded as weapons. Both celestial forces knew they were the root of this endless sorrow. And they knew, too, that they alone had the power to bring it to an end.

But not without sacrifice.

One night, just before dawn—before the fighting could begin anew—the moon and the stars cast a spell. The stars shimmered in all their colours, and the moon bathed the night in radiant silver. Their lights rained down upon the ocean, mingling with the waves below.

It was a spectacle of magic—yet none of the mermaids saw it. Exhausted from endless battle, they lay fast asleep. The colours of the moon, the stars, and the sea continued to blend. The waves churned gently, singing a new song of unity and healing.

The magic—silver, red, blue, and purple—glided to the ocean floor like a seagull’s feather drifting on the wind. And there, something began to grow: a coral unlike any the sea had ever known. Her stem was strong, gleaming silver and blue. Her branches spread like delicate fans, sparkling white and sapphire, with flecks of pink and violet shimmering across their smooth surface.

The light of the moon and stars slowly faded, and the sea—where their magic had touched the waves—grew still. For a moment, all was quiet. Then, the newly born coral began to hum a soft melody, echoing the spell cast by moonlight and starlight.

Barely audible, yet unmistakably present, she sang of love and peace, carrying a spark of hope and healing—ready to be heard by any sea creature willing to listen.

The sun rose, and her gentle song was drowned out by battle cries and the clash of weapons. But with each passing day, the coral’s voice grew stronger.

Moons passed, and the fighting continued. Yet the coral’s song spread far and wide, carried gently by the currents.

One evening, a mermaid of the North swam above the coral. Her hair was as black as night, and her eyes shone silver—just like the scales on her fin. Her name was Alahelea. Weary of the endless conflict, she had sought solitude, wishing for a quiet moment far from the other mermaids.

When she heard the coral’s melody, she paused and listened. It was unlike anything she had ever heard. Her inner ocean—clouded by the darkness of long years at war—was suddenly touched by moonlight and starlight.
A sensation unlike any she had known washed through her. Celestial colours stirred within, and her waters shimmered with newfound hope.

She loved the song, though its meaning remained just out of reach.

While Alahelea listened, a merman from the South approached the coral, drawn by the same melody. He had a turquoise fin, golden hair that shone like the sun, and eyes as blue as the open sea. His name was Azeathen.

He, too, was captivated by the coral’s music, and its magic flowed into his inner ocean, illuminating the depths of his wounded soul. The pain of battle, long buried, was momentarily lifted by the light now stirring within him.

Both of them lingered near the coral, each entranced by its song, unaware of the other’s presence. But eventually, the melody began to fade—for the coral could not sing without rest.

The mermaids returned to their senses and, when their eyes met, they recognised one another as enemies. Instinctively, they summoned their weapons.
But a heartbeat later, the memory of the coral’s song echoed within them—its melody of unity, of love, and of the beauty that could blossom in times of peace.

The northern mermaid looked at the unfamiliar merman. She no longer saw an adversary, but a handsome young warrior, his face marked by pain—yet his eyes were kind.

And the southern merman gazed at the strange mermaid. He no longer saw a foe, but a striking soldier of the sea. Mistrust lingered in her silver eyes, but within them shimmered a flicker of hope.

Without realising it, their hearts began to beat in unison, deep within the vastness of the sea. As waves must break upon the shore, so too did their feelings rise—and they fell in love.

The coral sensed the spark between them, and her song began anew. This time, the mermaid and the merman listened together. He flicked his fin and slowly swam closer. She remained still, allowing him to approach.

Their inner oceans responded to the coral’s melody, vibrating in harmony, reaching out—tentatively, yet unmistakably—for one another.

Alahelea moved closer to Azeathen, their flukes almost touching. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing against her hand.

Together, they listened a little longer to the coral’s song, her melodies soothing their inner oceans. Silver waves washed away the doubt that lingered within him, while streams of deep blue flowed through her soul, dissolving her fears.

They drew nearer still, eyes locked, lost in each other’s colours and gaze.
Silver and blue began to blend, and in their eyes the ocean, the stars, and the moon were quietly reflected.

At last, they embraced—then kissed. The silver waves within Alahelea’s inner ocean poured into Azeathen’s, while a soft current of turquoise flowed from his into hers. And together, their colours began to merge.

They kissed throughout the night, their inner oceans slowly becoming one.
Silver and blue were united. They didn’t quite understand what had happened—only that they had found joy and bliss, emotions they had never known until that night by the coral.

They whispered secrets to one another and spoke for hours, realising they no longer wished to fight. But as dawn approached and the battle cries of their kin echoed through the water, they knew their time had come to an end—for now.

‘Let us meet again,’ said Azeathen.

‘But when?’ Alahelea asked.

‘In the cover of darkness. We shall find each other beneath moonlight and starlight,’ he replied.

‘With starlight and moonlight,’ she echoed, smiling.

And so, they made a promise—to return to the coral that had brought them both such joy and understanding. They swam back to their warring kingdoms, hearts heavy with the knowledge that the fighting was meaningless.
Not wishing to raise suspicion among their fellow warriors, they simply said they were weary of battle and spent the day tending to the wounded.

And when night fell, they met again at the coral, where they joined their inner oceans once more, giving themselves to each other in love. They talked throughout the night, whispering dreams and hopes, and vowed to return again the following evening.

During the days, they tended to the wounded, stood guard to protect the younger mermaids, or taught them the ways of battle and healing.
And at night, they returned to one another—finding joy and comfort in the love that had blossomed between them.

But with each passing day spent away from the battlefield, they began to feel the weight of a life divided. The knowledge of love and peace, gifted to them by the coral, and the realisation that all celestial light—moonlight and starlight alike—was sacred and healing, left them changed.

They no longer knew how to exist in two kingdoms that remained at war. Without one another, their lives had begun to lose meaning.

Before long, the other mermaids began to grow suspicious of their absence from the battlefield. Both Alahelea and Azeathen were known as skilled warriors—too skilled to simply vanish from the front lines.

‘Have you lost all hope of defeating the enemy?’ Alahelea’s closest friend asked her one day.

‘I haven’t,’ she replied quietly. ‘But I’m growing weary of it all.’

‘We’re all tired,’ her friend said, with a sad smile.

Alahelea considered telling her about the coral’s song—about her magic and her message of peace—but fear held her back. She wasn’t sure her friend would understand.

Meanwhile, Azeathen faced questions of his own.

‘What’s happened to your fighting spirit?’ his brother asked sharply.

‘It is still there,’ Azeathen replied calmly. ‘But for now, I choose to teach rather than to fight.’

‘We all prefer not to fight,’ his brother said. ‘But we cannot afford that luxury. We live in a harsh world.’

Azeathen thought of telling him about Alahelea—about the coral’s song and what it had awakened in him. But fear held him back. He doubted his brother would understand.

That night, when the two lovers met again, Alahelea’s inner ocean was clouded with fear, while Azeathen’s churned with despair.
And because they could see each other’s inner oceans as clearly as their own, they knew at once that something was wrong.

That night, they found comfort once more in each other’s arms, uncertain of what the future might bring. They knew that soon, they would be called to war again. Neither of them could say what they would do, should they meet on the battlefield—not as lovers, but as enemies once more.

And so it came to pass that the next day, Alahelea and Azeathen returned to battle. But this time, their hearts were filled with a strange mixture of love, hope, fear, and despair. Emotions they had never known before streamed through their inner oceans—colours blending in unfamiliar ways.

And yet, those very colours gave them strength. They gave them the courage to face the darkness of the day ahead.

Alahelea raised her silver sword, ready for battle. Azeathen took up his golden spear, prepared to fight. How had the world come to this?
That lovers should meet on the battlefield?

The moon, the stars, and the ocean felt the weight of their troubled hearts. And in their ancient wisdom, they understood: their new song—woven from love, pain, and the hope of peace—would soon demand a terrible sacrifice…

To be continued…