Storms and Sabres (a retelling of Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Little Mermaid”)

The golden sun rose gently above the horizon, painting the sky a brilliant shade of red. I grinned as the saltwater licked my toes, taking in the glorious sight. God couldn’t have given me a better gift for my sixteenth birthday. I walked along the beach a little while more, until the sun had completely chased away the night sky, before finally heading back to the palace. The chef had prepared an extravagant breakfast feast for my parents and me, which pleased me greatly. Upon finishing my meal, I sent the rest of the food with the servants to be handed out at the children’s home in the village.

Throughout the afternoon, the castle busied itself in preparation for the evening departure. There was to be a grand celebration on the sea tonight, in honour of my coming of age, for this year marked my first year of apprenticeship under my father the King. In three years hence, I would assume the throne, and all of the weight and responsibilities that currently sat on my father’s shoulders would come to rest on mine. 

But I shouldn’t worry about that now. I was already well-prepared to become King, for I had been raised in the conduct of a monarch. Today I simply wanted to make the most of my time on earth. I wanted to live up my first day of adulthood as much as possible. 

The day seemed to fly by, until it was time to embark. We left the dock when the sun began setting, and followed it into the horizon. The sea was a deep cornflower blue, and I grinned when I felt the salty breeze kiss my brow. By the time the sun sank into the murky clouds in the distance, we had left the palace far behind. 

Toward the beginning of the party, I remained below deck. Lively music echoed throughout the ship, and I danced with more young ladies than I could count. After wearing myself out, I resigned myself to the side of the room, where I watched the merriment continue from afar. My eyes wandered about the room, and I found myself peeking out the window at the sea. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw the face of a young girl in the window, but I blinked and she was gone. It must have been the motion of the sea playing tricks on my mind. 

Suddenly, I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, and I turned to see my father’s weary face smiling at me. “It’s time,” he said. 

I followed him up the stairs, smiling to myself as I thought about what awaited me above. The moment I emerged from the cabin, a great cacophony rocked the boat. Fireworks in every colour known to man lit up the cloudy night sky, turning night into day. The brilliant colours swept across the sky in the same way the wind might carry the branches of a weeping willow. Coloured lanterns hung everywhere, and sailors danced across the deck. I chuckled at the sight, beginning to make my rounds. It was customary to greet everyone who came, and though I had already talked and danced with many people, I began to greet them formally now, shaking the hands of gentlemen and kissing the cheeks of ladies. 

The festivities continued through the night, though the sky only became darker. Eventually, the lanterns burned out and the music died down, and I decided to retire for the evening. Sleep found me easily that night, for the ocean waves rocked me gently as I lay in bed. I felt comforted by the steady movement, and soon entered a peaceful slumber. 

Not long after, a violent thunderclap shook the boat, snatching me from my pleasant dreams. I rolled out of bed, reaching for my boots when an enormous wave hit the boat and knocked me off my feet. A jolt of pain raced up my spine as my body slammed into the wall, and I fought to pull myself up to the door of my room. I made my way up to the main deck, bracing myself for the storm outside. A torrent of rain poured down on me, and lightning flashed in the sky. 

My men were fighting against the mighty gale, pulling at the ropes and hoisting the sails. Just as I ran to help them, another bolt of lightning came and split the deck in two. One of the three large masts collapsed, just barely missing my head. 

“Your highness!” The captain of the ship cried from the helm, spotting me in his peripheral. 

Just as I opened my mouth to respond, assuring him of my safety, one of the sails collapsed from above me. I leapt out of the way, hearing wood split behind me. I clung to the side of the boat, gasping to catch my breath. I felt pain in my shoulder, unsure where it had come from. The ship groaned and creaked, and I knew there was not much time before she gave in to the will of the sea. 

I didn’t know where my parents were, but I prayed to God that they were safe. I stood up and braced myself against the ship’s starboard. Across the deck, where the mast hadn’t fallen, I spotted my parents and the ship’s crew and guests, making ready a smaller boat. My father’s panicked, dark grey eyes met mine, his brow deeply creased as my mother clung to him. It appeared as if he were yelling something to me, but the sound never reached my ears. Instead, it was drowned out by a great wave slamming into me, its force splitting the ship and sending me over the side, where the mysterious fathoms below beckoned. 

The waters were dark as pitch, equally poetic and unruly. I felt the air inside my lungs abandon me when I hit the ocean, and I fought to find the surface. My eyes burned from the saltwater, and my lungs burned from a lack of air. The darkness enveloped me, and I couldn’t see where to swim. My vision slowly faded, leaving me to sink slowly into the depths. 

🟍🟍🟍

Was this heaven? 

I felt strangely at peace, but I wasn’t sure where I was. I couldn’t see anything around me, but I felt comforted, as if I was a boy again and my mother was holding me and stroking my hair. I drifted in this haze for a long while, a fuzzy feeling behind my heavy eyelids. 

I felt a sudden warmth pouring into me, as if I were standing by a fire on a snowy day. A soft hand caressed my cheek, and I opened my eyes to the most beautiful, tender face I had ever seen. A young girl with long, blond hair knelt over me, her melodic voice tickling my ears. 

“Are you alright?” She asked, and I smiled in response. 

“I believe so,” I said, trying to sit up and wincing from the effort. 

The blond girl placed her arm around my back and let me lean into her. Several other girls surrounded me, too, leaning in to get a better look at me. I was on a beach, near what appeared to be a convent of sorts. 

“What happened to you?” The girl asked, her brow puckering in concern. “Your clothes are soaked, and your sleeve is torn.” 

I glanced at my shoulder, still throbbing from the night before. She was right. My sleeve was torn, and my shirt was bloodied. But the wound looked clean, likely from the saltwater purifying it. 

“Shipwreck,” I managed to mutter. The girls gasped. 

“It’s a miracle you survived!” The blond girl exclaimed. 

“Thanks to you, it would seem! I cannot imagine what would have become of me if you hadn’t found me.” I smiled up at her, meeting her brilliant turquoise eyes. 

She blushed and grinned, helping me to my feet along with the other girls. “Let’s get you dried off,” she said. They led me to a pristine, white temple , and helped me find dry clothes and a place to rest. I saw the blond girl once more, in passing as I walked to a carriage they had fetched me. 

Before I fully processed what had even happened, I was on my way home. We reached the palace, where servants tended to my every need and my mother clung to me with all her might. My father told me of her refusal to eat or sleep until I was home safe. After he mentioned that, the bags under her eyes and her dishevelled hair stood out even more. 

I retired early that night, but sleep evaded me. Every time I laid down, my bed became the roaring ocean and my pillow became the smothering sea. After tossing and turning late into the night, my mind finally gave in to my body’s exhaustion, and I slept. Though I expected a dreamless night, my sleep became even more restless than my waking. I could only dream of the blond haired girl- with her eyes like doves and tender cheeks. My heart ached to feel her skin against my own once more. It seemed to me that I owed her my life. 

Dawn came the next morning, and with it, a thousand new responsibilities. I was no longer a child, and despite the traumatic week we’d all had, my father began training me more thoroughly. He realised that if he were to suddenly pass on, I would need to be ready to assume the throne and the burdens that came with it. 

He taught and trained me for the next few months, until the spring rains came. Oftentimes, however, I found myself distracted; I caught myself gazing out the window toward the open sea, enamoured by the blond girl who seemed to only exist in my mind. My guardian angel. The only one for me. The beautiful girl who rescued me, whose name I did not know. 

I began taking walks along the oceanside each morning, in hopes to clear my mind. One such morning, I was walking along the beach when I came across a girl collapsed on the sand. I watched her for a moment, unsure what to do. She had no clothes, but she was breathing. I approached her gently, and she awoke, looking up at me with enchanting blue eyes. When her eyes met my own, she glanced downward, making an effort to cover herself with her long, dark hair. 

“Who are you? Where have you come from?” I asked her gently, afraid to startle the poor thing. 

She said nothing, and her expression became sorrowful. I realised she could not speak. She was dumb. I endeavoured to help her to her feet, and though her gait was beautiful, she looked as if walking pained her. I took her to the palace, feeling pity for the dumb girl, and had my servants dress her in the finest linens. 

Later that evening, she joined my parents and I for a great performance. She wore a gown made from silk and muslin, and I had the servants place her in a chair adjacent to mine. We watched several girls perform, first singing and later dancing. One of the singers had long, blond hair and sang beautifully, and I could not help but think of the girl who rescued me. I clapped loudly after her performance, and she curtsied in return. Later on, the girls danced to music from the finest orchestra in the kingdom. At this, the girl seated next to me rose and began to dance with them. 

She danced in such a way that it moved me next to tears. She was graceful beyond her years, and glided across the floor as if she weighed less than a feather. She was simply beautiful. Her eyes told stories as she danced, both of sorrow and of hope. 

After the lovely performance, I beckoned to her, calling her my foundling. She was to remain near me at all times, for her presence soothed me more than that of anyone else. We began riding together, seeing the sights of the forests surrounding the palace. We even climbed mountains together. As we were climbing one day, I noticed that each of her footprints were marked by blood. When I tried to point it out, however, she merely laughed and kept walking. She did not seem bothered by the wounds her feet suffered through, and she carried herself with such elegance that I myself couldn’t even muster. 

As time passed, my dumb foundling became even more dear to my heart. I still thought of the blond girl on the beach, but this girl was very similar to her. She reminded me of the girl I saw in my dreams. My foundling had the most precious heart, and she seemed more devoted to me than anyone else. 

Weeks passed, and my parents began pressuring me to marry. They wished that I would marry a certain princess from a neighbouring kingdom, and I obliged to go visit her at the very least. I respected my parents, and could not disobey them , even though I knew my heart belonged elsewhere. 

The night before we were to embark on the visit, I pulled my dumb foundling aside. “I must travel,” I told her. “I must see this beautiful princess; my parents desire it; but they will not oblige me to bring her home as my bride. I cannot love her; she is not like the beautiful maiden in the temple, whom you resemble. If I were forced to choose a bride, I would rather choose you, my dumb foundling, with your speaking eyes.” 

It was then that I kissed her. I had kissed her brow and cheek before, but never a kiss like this. It was gentle, yet passionate. My fingers toyed with her hair, and she smiled at me. Her eyes seemed to confess her love to me, and not for the first time. I brought her close to me, thankful for her and knowing that she would accompany me to this foreign kingdom. 

Upon our arrival to the small neighbouring kingdom, trumpets blared and soldiers welcomed us. The whole kingdom was celebrating us, though the princess had not yet arrived. She had been raised at a religious home far away, where she learned her royal conduct. At last, she came, bringing with her a small entourage of people. 

I bowed when she entered the palace, and when I looked up, I gasped in delight. “It was you,” I breathed, “who saved my life when I lay dead on the beach.” I embraced her, and she kissed my cheek lightly. The blond girl- although now I could see clearly that she was a woman- was more beautiful than I remembered. Her blue eyes seemed to laugh at my delight, and I pledged my commitment to her right then and there. 

Moments later, I held the hands of my dumb founding, pleading with her to rejoice with me. She knew how I had longed for this more than all else; surely she would share my happiness. She kissed my hands, which I took as her blessing. 

All were delighted at our immediate engagement, and I could not take my eyes off my bride at the following wedding ceremony. My dumb foundling, who was ever so dear to me, held the train of my bride’s gown as she walked down the aisle, a more beautiful sight none could behold. We were married, and that night we set off on a ship in celebration. Coloured lanterns were lit, and fireworks were launched into the sky. Sailors danced, and everyone joined in the festivities. 

That night, I fell asleep peacefully, my bride’s head against my bosom. For the first time since the shipwreck, I had a dreamless slumber. I awoke to the rays of dawn peaking above the horizon, and for a moment I thought I glimpsed my dumb foundling standing above me, a small sabre clutched in her hands. In an instant, she was gone, and I blamed my imagination. To wake in my love’s arms was a pleasant feeling, despite the disturbing image I had seen moments before. 

That morning was a peaceful one, until we could not find my dumb child. I stood at the ship’s port with my bride in hand, and we gazed out onto the sea. We saw nothing other than the sun’s reflection on the sea foam. The caps of the waves were pearly white, and though it was a beautiful sight, our hearts were troubled. 

A soft melody rang in my ears, though my bride was not fazed by it. I heard voices in the distance singing in a melancholy despair, and my heart sang to the same tune. I knew not where the voices came from, except that they seemed to come from the ocean itself; even though the sky spoke of clear sailing, the voices spoke of an unruly storm on the horizon. 

I glanced down toward the ocean, expecting to see calm waters. 

Instead, I saw a spot of blood: scarlet bubbles foaming to the surface of the sea, as if a gleaming sabre had stirred up the water, taking with it my precious foundling.