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Fantasy Romance

I can't say I've never met the ocean before. But this is the first time I've met it as its potential bride.


And I can't say I'm not intrigued and terrified and constantly bewildered. But it's what's happened. I'm going to accept it.

-



The ocean on the other hand did not want a bride. It kept telling the humans so. They wouldn't listen. They brought girl after girl and presented them to It, but It was not happy with any of them. What can I do with a human bride? It thought. The humans did not understand. Humans think like humans, after all. They can't begin to think like the ocean.



-

"My name is Salacia Fiscella, age eighteen, five foot nine inches, one hundred and twenty-five pounds."


"Thank you, now could you please enter that side room? The lady will fit you for the dress."


I wondered, Is this all really necessary? We don't even know if he'll like me yet. I dared not say my feelings aloud. This tottering village on the cliff was convinced that I was the perfect woman because I bore the name of the former wife of Neptune. I was thinking, Wouldn't that bring back sad memories? No, no, they said, it will make him happy. I should try to be exactly like her. Hm, but I never knew her...


The story goes, she was so in awe of her suitor, the god of the ocean, that she hid herself away from him. He did not give up on her and sought her out. She finally consented to marry him. I suppose it's a romantic story. In that case, had I any business marrying someone or something that had loved so deeply before? I had not been very concerned that I should ever find a person meant for me, or that I would settle happily down. But I wondered if it were cruel to some part of my female soul to give myself away indiscriminately. Shouldn't I be chosen to be a man's one true love? It seemed so in my mind. Funny thing, when I thought outside myself, when I spoke the peculiarity of my mind, the solid opinions softened, run over as they were by the stronger opinions of other people.

-



The priest stood on the sand by the water. "The meeting is at three o'clock, Lord of the Ocean. Is there anything I can do to help you prepare?"


The salty water heaved up and sprayed the priest's face. "You have everything taken care of, I see. Well, here is the bucket. Do be on time, Lord."



-

In the shadowy dressmaker's shop, a woman with aged, translucent skin like the faded gauze scarf she wound around my hair, was readying me for my meeting. I would wear that scintillant green dress, this scarf, that paint, and those sandals. I would be patient and polite, she said. If I wasn't, the Lord of the Ocean was sure to be angry and dismiss me. You want to be married, don't you, she said, without a questioning tone. It was a statement. There were twenty...twenty-six girls who had not pleased him and would live their lives as a disgrace to their village.

 

I couldn't be a disgrace. I didn't come from here. I had visited with a knapsack of wares. A few people had bought them before I was known to be Salacia. Then I was brought before the leader, that priest with the warped nose and blind blue eyes, and he proposed a bargain with me. If I was successful in appeasing their god—and I would be with such a name—then I would live an eternally pleasant life in a kingdom under the waves. You will be his love and our queen, he said. They would bestow an official holiday on me and drop presents into the sea. All I need do was send a seagull to tell them what I would like each year.

 

Of course, this might be too good to be true. The god may not be satisfied. He might take me and drown me. Or suppose there was no god and they throw me in and I'm not caught. I drown in that event too.

 

I suppose I'm brave. And I'm also used to being run over.

-



The ocean looked through Its shades. Sapphire, aquamarine, emerald, turquoise... Why should It bother? Because the people who lived on the cliff wouldn't leave It alone otherwise. If I take a girl, they'll be satisfied. So It chose an aquamarine shade and dressed Itself, taking care particularly around the foam neck frills. But what will I do with her after that?



-

Everything was all but set. I stood beside the table laden with fruits, presumably for me, and a bowl of salt, presumably for the ocean, my hands folded nicely behind my back. I tried to stand straight and feel elegant, but I was born to hard work and was ashamed to be near such niceties. If this god grew angry at my presence, I shouldn't blame it. I had dared to offer myself, knowing I had rough hands, sunburned skin, and a bony face. And I was too tall, far too tall for a bride.

 

The priest came tiptoeing up the hill, a bucket in his hands. He placed it at the head of the table, on a carved chair. As he passed I saw there was water inside of it. "Greet him, and sit down," said the priest. "He's hungry."

 

I nodded my head in his direction and sat down. The priest conferred quietly with the bucket of water and then he and the children who had set the table left me alone with him.

-



The ocean could take on shapes as It could shades. It was commonly a horse, or a whole herd of them. This was because someone down the line had attributed the invention of horses to It. It knew this was not true, that the same one who had created It, had also created horses. Little did these humans know about the universe. Well, what about this girl? It thought. Is she stupid and annoying?



-

The bucket just peeked over the edge of the table. I could see the surface of the water, still and expressionless. If I was supposed to let him lead the conversation, I did not know. Whenever I'd spoken to the ocean before it hadn't returned words. I cleared my throat and gave it my heart and mind.

 

"Before I came here, I planned on taking a swim in you. But the people don't think that's a good idea. They say that the tossing waves are your anger. They say you are extremely angry of late. They say you want to be married again. I thought to myself, if these things are true, I would like to be someone's, anyone's, happiness. If I can do that for you, I will do it."

-



After even the trace of these words had faded from the air, the ocean realized that in this case It would do well to make Itself more approachable. Here was someone offering happiness. Of course, the happiness of an ocean is nothing like the happiness of a human, and the girl could not know of it.

 

But here was someone offering happiness. The ocean would be a fool to refuse.

 

It had never attempted a human shape before. As it rose from the bucket and arranged Itself, the shape before the girl became only vaguely human, resembling much more a monstrous demon from the depths. It stood seven feet tall, with the chair and bucket included. There were no eyes or nose, but there was a mouth, and from the mouth, It said,




"Do. Do make me happy."

August 29, 2020 03:01

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9 comments

Liya Mariyam
15:35 Sep 07, 2020

amazing story , love the plot , some spelling mistakes here and there , but we're all beginners . also would you please check out my latest story

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Hamadryad 77
21:01 Sep 12, 2020

Wow, thanks so much. Would you be so kind as to point out one or two of my spelling errors for me?

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Liya Mariyam
13:21 Sep 15, 2020

sure , not specifically spelling mistakes more like sentence errors ,like,"after even the trace of these words , " i think the even is not necessary . hope you don't mind feedback

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Hamadryad 77
15:53 Sep 25, 2020

Perhaps so...I was using the 'even' as an emphasis, but it could be unnecessary. Thanks for your perspective!

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Liya Mariyam
09:21 Sep 28, 2020

now that i think about it , you're right too

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. .
03:27 Sep 03, 2020

Beautiful story! The detail was so great

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Hamadryad 77
01:19 Sep 04, 2020

Thanks so much, Sarah! I first had--thinking back on it--a pretty bad idea for this prompt, but fortunately I was captured (two days before deadline) by a much better idea.

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. .
01:27 Sep 04, 2020

That's happened to me too. (actually, that happened to all my Reedsy stories). Oh, and no problem!

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Hamadryad 77
02:12 Sep 04, 2020

Haha, goodness. I guess it's really about starting somewhere even if it's not that great. I have to tell myself that a lot because I get frustrated if my stories aren't up to snuff, and then end up writing nothing at all.

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