Sea Witch

Vials and jars clinked together as I rummaged through my shelves, muttering under my breath. My long sleek tentacles propelled me through my lavishly decorated cave as I looked for what I needed on the next shelf. “Where is it?” I shouted, slamming my fist against the wall and making the various jars rattle.

Flotsam floated out from around my vanity with a potion wrapped in his tail, Jetsam right behind him. “Oh, my sweet babies, thank you,” I cooed. They vibrated at my praise as I took the jar from my eel and gave them each a loving stroke. Turning to my already bubbling cauldron, I poured three drops of the teal liquid into it, watching as it bubbled and changed colors. Inhaling deeply, a wicked grin spread across my face. Magic, especially dark magic, smelled and tasted delicious – like smokey sea salt and sun baked sand.

Satisfied, I languidly moved to another wall for more ingredients but my reflection in my vanity caught my attention. Pausing my pursuit, I slowly floated over and settled in front of it contemplatively. Small bubbles floated up around me as my tentacles nestled around themselves and I leaned forward to study my appearance. I was bewitching, of course, but there were drooping bags under my eyes and my hair was in disarray. With a sigh I caressed one of the sea anemones scattered on the surface of the vanity and collected the oil it released. Dabbing it under my eyes gently, I contemplated the cause of this disruption of my beauty.

Triton.

A low growl escaped me thinking of my wretched older brother. The king. The betrayer. He had been a part of why I had been banished to surface in the first place all those years ago, then he had banished me again! The humans had been right to be afraid of me and my powers once I discovered who and what I was. But my brother should have stayed by my side. My brother should have razed that human village to the ground with me for what they had done to me! Instead, he had condemned me and cast me out in exile – just as afraid of me as the worthless humans. Pathetic. He had been the focus of most of my waking hours since then as I devised all the ways I could make him suffer. And I would make sure he suffered.

Jetsam and Flotsam began leisurely swimming above me, sensing the disturbance in my peace, and began vibrating softly in contentment as I plotted and groomed. After smiling lovingly at them, my only true companions, I went back to my reflection. My hair was shorter now than it had been when I was living as a human as I had hacked it all off afterwards. That charade of a life was dead and gone and I wanted no reminders of it. While my hair had also once been rich and dark, it was now streaked with white. Courtesy and payment for my magic, no doubt. Worth it, I thought. After dabbing a cream from one of my bottles onto my hands, I ran them through my multi-colored locks until they drifted upwards around my head elegantly. Being human had been a vile experience for so many reasons – this was so much better.

After checking and double checking, I was happy with my now radiating appearance so I began working again. A witch should never perform at less than her best. My cauldron was stewing and only needed a few more small things to finish this particular spell. I glanced at my curio cabinet that was already glowing with a number of different concoctions and spells just waiting to be used. Chuckling darkly to myself, I made quick work of grabbing what was needed and finished the potion with a renewed excitement. I began humming as I bottled this particular batch of sorcery and organized my work space, forcing myself to focus on the end goal I was scheming so hard for. Every good witch knew manifestation was key.

As if summoned by my thoughts alone, I felt the disturbance at the opening of my home before the creature made herself known.

“Hello?” the meek voice echoed through the cave.

My tentacles coiled in excitement as a delighted grin took over my face. “Just a moment, dear!” I called back. Finally. Taking a steading breath, I swam through the caves until I saw the young merwoman floating in the entryway, nervously looking around as though expecting something to bite her. Her fear tasted divine. Wanting to feast on it some more, I slowly emerged from the shadows and saw her startle, her eyes widen at my dark swirling appendages. My grin remained, nearly hurting my cheeks, as I allowed her to take me in. “Why hello there, who do we have here?”

“Ursula,” the merwoman gasped shrinking away.

I tisked playfully as I slowly approached her. “No dear, that’s moi,” I responded cheekily. I nestled into a grove in the cave wall as I put on an aloof air. This young woman would be the first of many to succumb to my carefully laid trap. I had been spreading whispers of my… services among the merfolk, leaving traces of my enchantments to be sampled and then followed scattered throughout the sea. All merfolk could sense magic, it was in their blood, and I knew it would only be a matter of time until some poor soul sought me out.

When the young girl continued to gape, I grew bored. Snapping my fingers, I summoned my babies from the shadows to help shock her into speaking. Chuckling at my own joke, I looked pointedly at her. “Name, girl, I don’t have all day.”

“P-Pearle,” she stammered, trying to straighten her tail as she glanced nervously at my pets as they lazily circled her.

Pearle, I thought studying her. Of course it is. Her hair was an iridescent blonde that shimmered around her, her tail a pretty sunset blush that glinted in any light that made its way into my lair. I was curious what such a pretty thing could want or need so bad she came to me. “Pearle,” I drawled. “And what can I do for you, Pearle?”

The story she spun was one of love and jealousy; she was after a merman’s heart who had chosen another. I had to fight my smirk from blooming at this most perfect opportunity. She was ripe for the plucking. Once she was finished lamenting, I offered her my carefully crafted deal, which she took hungrily much to my delight. This little pearl that had fallen into my den was the first of many in my new collection I planned to start, my new garden, perhaps; the first of many in my strike against his highness.

Little had Triton known that by exiling me, he had armed me with the most powerful weapon of all – hate. And I wove that hate into every fiber of my being, every ounce of my magic until it grew and festered. He would see, they would all see. This sea witch would be the end of them all.