Spirits of Thule

“You know, maybe you should be worried?”

Alun looked up at his friend, brushing away his cyan hair from his face. A lofty grin played on his lips. “You shouldn't be so uptight, Clyde. What could the humans do to us now?”

Clyde snorted. “They made plastic. That’s concerning enough on its own.”

Alun let out a merry laugh. “Oh, please. We’ve survived for thousands of years already. The humans couldn’t possibly pose a threat to Thule anymore. Don’t worry about it, Clyde.”

“Whatever you say, Alun.” Clyde cast him a stern glance. “But Thulans still have to be careful. They’re unnatural -- which reasonable being needs that many weapons anyway?”

“Loosen up, Clyde!” Alun slapped his friend’s arm teasingly. “We‘re smarter now. We’re stronger. We don’t have to worry as much.”

The prince scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t underestimate them, Alun. You know how they sunk the old Thule.”

“Old Thule? Back in 1945?” Alun ducked his head. “That was ages ago -- besides, we’ve left the Pacific anyway. I doubt the humans would cause any more trouble, considering what happened last time in Japan.” Clyde stared at him, concerned, and Alun looked away from his prying eyes.

“You would think so.” Clyde sighed, replying at last. “But they’re still doing damage -- the citizens of Thule are concerned. They’re finding more and more trash, even in the Secret Tunnels. Not to mention all the shipwrecks; they’ve piled up over the years. They’re dangerously close to finding the shield of Thule.”

Alun examined his friend, unsure of what to say -- Clyde’s long, dark blue hair was tied into a ponytail, signifying that he was -- and had been for a few days -- stressed. Not to mention that though Clyde was only five thousand years old, like Alun, he had started to develop small wrinkles on his forehead.

“Look,” Alun started. “We'll clean the garbage, the wreckages, and the shield of Thule will be fine. The humans are too cynical to believe in civilization underwater -- and they’re too busy with their systems and hijinks in space anyway. You have no cause to worry. What could some chunks of plastic possibly do to the mighty royals of Thule?”

“But what about the peasants -- the ones in the farms, the school buildings--”

Clyde was interrupted. 

“Prince! Prince Clyde!” A green skinned water spirit ran into the level of the underwater castle. Alun examined the intruder calmly. Strands of dark green hair fell over his blotchy red face. The golden seal of royalty hung onto his black vest.

Alun tsked. What a disgrace to the royal name.

Alun waved a hand, bored. “What is it?”

The messenger bowed down, placing two fingers on the royal seal as a salute. “The Southern Patrol has asked me to inform you of this as soon as possible.”

Thule had issued four Patrols, all for the different borders. They ensured that the secret entrances of the underwater city remained hidden from the humans. After all, they had to be careful after what happened to Old Thule.

“What is it?” Clyde asked, concern creeping into his soft voice. Alun laid a hand on his shoulder, comforting him subtly.

“There were fishermen out.” The messenger gulped. “Most of the patrol was able to avoid them, but… a scout got caught in their net.”

“What?” Clyde stepped forward, coming face to face with the messenger. “Surely the humans freed them?”

“N - no … the humans didn’t see the scout within their net, he was buried under the fish.” The messenger winced. “Scouts say he was strangled by the net. He had turned into sea foam by the time the patrols got him out.”

What a shame, Alun thought to himself. His mind whirled with how their funeral would be set up, and whether they should use pink or yellow coral for decorations.

Clyde murmured to himself while pacing anxiously. After a few uncomfortable moments, he turned and faced the messenger. “Alright. Alright. Who was it?”

“It … it was a new scout.” the messenger stammered. “They had just transferred from the Northern Patrol to the Southern this morning…”

Alun paused. Northern Patrol?

“His name was…”

Everything seemed to be slowed down. Alun could feel himself slowly come to the realization, the beads of sweat gather, the tears line up behind his eyelids. He felt the wave of grief coming to strike him before it was even there. Clyde turned to him, already aware of what was about to happen.

“Loche…”

No no no no no…

“Morwenna.”

Alun felt as his breath had been pulled out of him by a greater force. He was forced to double over, but still remained standing. His pride was the only thing stopping him from falling to the floor and sobbing. The messenger looked at him, startled. Clyde opened his mouth to say something, probably trying to comfort him. 

But Alun didn’t want comfort. He didn’t want to cry or feel himself crumpling up and shattering and breaking from the inside. He didn’t want to see Clyde’s gentle pity, or the way his eyebrows furrowed and his blue eyes filled with sorry. 

He just wanted to leave.

And so that’s what he did. Alun ripped away from Clyde’s hug and jumped into the open water.

“ALUN!” Clyde roared behind him. He heard a yell of frustration and could tell Clyde would be annoyed whenever Alun decided to come back.

He leaped into one of the currents that ran by the palace, letting it carry him above the main city of Thule. Alun looked over the underwater palace, rippling and shining beautifully in the reflected sunlight. Multicolored fish swam around it, diving into the large, untamed coral that wrapped around the building. The palace of Thule was large and beautiful, made with marble arches and dome-shaped roofs. Three pillars that surrounded the palace had disk-like floors running up their length. Alun could see Clyde floating just above one, watching him leave helplessly. 

The entire palace was surrounded by currents, pacified and controlled by Poseidon himself. They whirled around , spiralling up and around it until breaking away to their own paths. There was one heading to the smaller palaces and to the training grounds. Several more headed to hospitals, schools, and restaurants. And then there was a current -- an unruly, tumultuous current, untouched by Poseidon -- that only the ones closest to the royals of Thule knew about -- one heading to Sun Realm. 

Fortunately, Alun wasn’t in this current.

Not yet.

Ah, the Sun Realm -- it was infested with humans, humans and their ever so loyal pets. Humans and their democracies, tyrannies, foolish men in suits. Humans who infect everything with their stupid plastic. Humans who cast their nets into the water and strangled brothers.

Alun let out a quiet sob.

Loche, I told you not to join the Southern Patrol.

No, it’s my fault. I shouldn't have let you join the patrols at all.

I should’ve kept you at home.

I should’ve kept you safe. 

He kept jumping into different currents, getting more dangerous and fast as he sped away from the palace. Of course, he didn’t notice, too wrapped up in his own misery. Suddenly, a new current popped up underneath Alun and swept him away. 

Fear struck his heart. 

The Sun Realm’s current!

Alun gasped as the sudden intake of water filled his lungs and pressed down on his chest. He thrashed as he was carried through the sea and up, up, up, through the Secret Tunnels of Thule and away from the city. The navy blue hues of the sea became lighter and lighter until he splashed out of the water. 

Sunlight hit his dark face and he basked in the comforting warmth for a good amount of time. It seemed to melt into his skin and flow through his veins. The warmth filled him in mere seconds, and the sensation was exhilarating. Alun looked down at his submerged body and saw that his skin glowed faintly. 

The Sun Realm… 

It’s not as bad as it seems, not as bad as I was told it was… 

He hadn’t been here for years, not since he was a small, child spirit. His mother had carried him to the surface of the water and had raised him up to the sun. “Can you feel it, Alun?” She had said, in her deep, gentle voice. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

And it felt as wonderful as it had then, although the sunlight felt more tainted now. 

His speeding grief was slowed by the sensation. 

Alun looked around him. He was surrounded by twinkling blue water and small red flounders that swam energetically around him in welcome. He could see land, blackened against the bright blue sky. Clouds swirled around it perfectly, as if they were commanded to do so by some higher power. 

He propelled himself towards the blurred shape. The small fish followed him, drawn to Alun by the magical essence that radiated from him -- stronger and more noticeable now, that the sunlight had replenished it. 

Alun swam. He didn’t know for how long, or why, but he swam. He danced in the water, twirling and jumping within it, until he finally reached shore. A bright smile was on his lips as he pulled himself onto the sand, his sadness momentarily drowned by the invigorating sunlight. 

He examined himself in the reflection of the rippling water. Alun looked young — at least for human eyes. He had large, shimmering black eyes in which flecks of gold and green and blue swirled within. Alun lacked the tell tale signs that humans used to identify age; wrinkles, bloodshot eyes, stringy and straw-like hair. But though he looked young, Alun had trained with Clyde for his place by the throne of Thule for thousands of years.

Alun winced, remembering his friend. Clyde. I’m sorry for leaving abruptly. I needed a break.

Alun walked along the shore, letting the wet sand melt around his feet and form imprints. He watched the sea wash in and out, in and out, and wondered why the humans laughed at the thought of it hiding cities. If they had ever bothered to go deep into the crevices and cracks of the ocean, and truly see it without their cynical eyes, perhaps Thule might've been found by now.

The beach here was calm, and twinkling pieces of plastic shone within the sand. Humans couldn’t see them clearly, but the spirit folk could -- and feel them as well. It was one of the few things that spirits couldn’t phase through.

The beach was also empty of life — not even a single human walked upon it. The sun was setting over the sea, casting pink and yellow shades onto the water. The remnants of human presence still remained on the beach; a few buckets, towels, and stray hats littered the sand as Alun drew closer to a large building.

This large building loomed over the beach, dark in the shadow of the setting sun. Sparkling windows were neatly lined along the sand-colored brick walls. Royal red curtains were drawn over most of them, but the ones that were open emitted a faint yellow light. 

A resort, Alun thought. It’s been a while since I saw one. 

The last resort Alun had seen was in 1943, where Alun’s father had brought him along for a mission. They had stayed in a luxurious suite, paying with money that had been sourced from the endless coffers of Thule, which held, among precious stones and other treasures, hordes of human currency. They had transformed their appearance to resemble a human’s. Though his father loved being in the Sun Realm, Alun didn’t like being trapped in a restrictive human body.

Alun’s father, Maire Morwenna, loved the humans. As the leader of the Thulan Army, it was in his job description to hate them -- but he couldn't help it. He was always talking to them during their missions in Hiroshima. 

Of course, that faith had died when the bomb dropped, and when the terrified screams filled the air, as the smoke cloud expanded through the city. It had died at the same time Alun’s mother did, burned alive. And now he was old, and angry at the world. The humans had taken away his beloved, and now they had taken his son, too.

I wonder if he knows yet.

He was angry when he found out about mother.

Alun shook his head, shooing away the thought and the images that came with it. 

Past the resort, Alun could see a dark, blurred shape. It walled off part of the beach, breaking through the sand. The wall went out five meters or so out into the sea. 

Alun, curious, ran through the sand. He reached the wall and climbed over it swiftly. He leaped down from the top and landed smoothly on his feet. Alun took a deep breath, calming the adrenaline rush that had just washed through his body.

He looked up and gasped -- it was as if his breath was ripped from his chest. This side of the beach didn’t look like the resort at all; plastic bottles of all sizes and shapes were strewn about on the darkened sand. Chunks of glass were lodged in the sticky mud. Strings of dark liquid curled into the ocean, fading into the waves. A rancid stench filled the air and pricked Alun’s nose. 

He coughed, wiping his watery eyes with the back of his hand. His face seemed to burn and the hair on the back of his neck stuck up in disgust.

It smells just like when-- he started to think. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping for the memories to leave him alone again. This time, it was more difficult to convince them to go away -- the smells were too similar. 

Alun left the dump, wandering back to the nice side of the beach.

I should get back. Clyde will start to worry by now.

He was heading for the water when something caught his eye. The last sliver of daylight fell onto a small, round figure, sitting on the beach by itself.

Alun''s face contorted into a menacing snarl.

A human.

Anger replaced his silent grief. Rage swallowed him and before he knew it, Alun was storming over to the shape. He had no control over his actions, as the only thought that reverberated in his mind was a human.

A human. A human! 

How could they dare to show their face after doing such awful things?

They killed my brother. They broke my father.

They took my mother.

As he drew closer, the human rose its head. It was small, and childish. It was chubby, as tall as it was wide. It had large, bulb-like eyes filled with curiosity. 

Alun eyed the destruction around him.

The child smiled at him warmly, but Alun didn't seem to register that.

Just as his vision clouded red, as his mouth was about to incant a vicious curse -- a hand fell onto his shoulder. Alun gasped. It was as if it had sucked the rage out of him.

Alun’s vision cleared, and he swung his head from side to side like a confused shark. The child had run off -- Alun could see it scampering away. Growling, Alun whirled around to confront whoever had stopped him and found himself staring into a pair of sea blue eyes.

“Alun,” Clyde said, his voice stern but soft. “Calm down.”

Alun stared at his friend. He had never noticed how tall Clyde was. But now, combined with his frown and angry eyes, it was intimidating.

Alun let out a sob.

Clyde’s eyes softened.

“There, there,” he whispered. “It’s alright, Alun.”

Alun closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. This was extremely unprofessional.

After a while, Clyde broke the silence.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yes it is!” Alun choked. “I shouldn't have let him join the patrols. I shouldn’t have asked her to come with me back then, either.” 

Clyde sighed. “That’s not your fault either. Your mother would’ve come on that mission, whether you were injured or not.”

“B-but if I didn’t get myself into trouble-” Alun voice cracked.

“No, Alun.” Clyde repeated. She had to be there for a separate assignment — but it was classified.” 

They stood together in silence.

“Your brother -- you couldn’t keep him at home either. Loche is was... spirited. You couldn’t have changed anything.” Clyde patted Alun’s back gently. "We water spirits know that everything is connected and everything happens for a reason."

Clyde threw his arm around Alun’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Clyde.” Alun wiped his eyes and let out a nervous laugh. “Thank you for pulling me up. I shouldn’t have lost my head.”

Clyde laughed softly. “Oh, I suppose I’ll have to ignore it for now.” he joked. 

“Now then,” Alun said softly.

“Let’s get back to Thule, shall we?”