The Seeker

Long ago, when the land was young and the stars were shy as children, there lived a mighty king. His flesh was molten rock and his mane was pillars of smoke, and he reigned over his kingdom all alone.

Countless lives teemed beneath the ocean waves, their drab colors churning in riotous dance, but they did not concern him; they were all beneath his feet, and so he deemed them unworthy of regard.

For a time he was content with shaping the soil, its deepest bones wrought to his will, but then he yearned for what he did not have: he was alone.

Consumed with longing, he searched all the corners of the earth, but he could not find a companion. With a heavy heart, he turned his gaze to the sky.

A shimmering blanket stretched out before him, vast in its majesty. Distant lights gleamed above like gems in the dark, tempting him as they rejoiced together in communal splendour.

But before all these subjects shone their foremost, their lady with no equal: the silver moon. She hung high over him, peerless in strength and beauty, glowing so brightly that his eyes cast aside in shame.

Mustering his courage, he spoke. "O radiant queen! All these seas and stones are beneath me, for I am the lord of all their denizens. But one such as I still stands here humbled before you."

The skies remained quiet, but he was forlorn. "See how my fiery veins burn for a consort! If you have any mercy in you, heed now this plea of mine."

Something stirred in the empire above, whispers aghast at his daring. A soft voice replied to his, musical and sweet.

"O brazen king! I am not like you, and do not wish to be so. You disturb me with these cries, and my nights are quiet no longer. I shall grant you audience with me.

"But know this," the queen warned him. "Were it not for pity, I should have stayed my hand. For we are not alike."

"I am grateful for your gift," said he. "Anything you desire, I shall give you. And you will find me worthy of your gaze."

"Your lands are as harsh as your tongue," she complained. "They would make my tender flesh ache so. Build me a bower, so that I may rest my feet on a bed which is suitable."

Undaunted, the king reached deep into the earth. From its darkest breast he pulled forth its highest pillars, his backbone straining with the effort. These spires were as tall as his pride, and they reached higher than his every creation, boldly caressing the clouds above.

"Ahhh ... " sighed the queen with relief. "Perhaps you are not as crude as you seem. You may now attend my court ..."

The king ascended his mountain towers, anxious to see her. And so they lived together in her realm, for a while.

In time the queen bore a princess, a maiden of seven hues, her smile as luminous as her limbs hale. She dwelled in the noble palace of her parents, and was their greatest treasure.

Whenever the queen beheld her daughter, she cried tears of joy, and this blessing would rain down from the mountains, showering the realm below with her love. Thus were the first flowers born, jewels of the earth with which to revel and adorn.

Then came the day when the princess asked the king, "O father! Your lands are vast, but where are your subjects? Surely a king must have people to rule amongst, in the manner of my dear mother."

"These questions are unbecoming of one such as you," chastised he. "Subjects must be worthy of one's gaze, but all that I know are beneath us. You must never speak to their kind."

She was subdued with his answer, but not sated. Surely those whom he ruled deserved to see their own king?

In quiet night, when her father slept in his highest castle, the princess snuck out of her chambers. Hastening to visit new lands, she hurried down into the world below.

Its beauty astonished her, rivaled only by her mother's. Soothing forests and hidden lakes, shimmering falls and humble valleys all teemed together in fine display.

"I should have journeyed here all along," the princess mused. "These lands are well suited for one such as I." Gathering as many blossoms as she could find, she placed them in her hair and continued on, radiant as the dawn.

Thus she reached the ocean shore, white sands gleaming like bone in her morning light. She breathed deep in the briny air, sighing as she sat near the waves.

"Such wonders have been kept from me until now! I should like to build a new home here, and live in it forever."

Her words reached the dwellers of the sea, and they all crowded the shallows in unison, awed that their princess should visit ones such as they.

She laughed in delight and stroked their faces, cooing as she bequeathed them petals from her hair.

How could her father spurn such gentle creatures? They were guiltless and frail, and not so ugly themselves.

She bade them farewell and turned to leave, when a voice called out to her from behind.

"O beautiful one, will you not here take some tribute from our people? For you are the first to meet with our kind, and you treat us so well."

She wheeled about at the sound, ears blushing with pleasure.

A slim youth gently parted the crowd, muscular and tall. His skin was as polished marble, and his teeth gleamed like the sun.

"I am the prince of your subjects," said he. "And I would not wish you depart without these gifts of mine. Open your hand."

She did so, her skin tingling. Into her palm he placed knuckles of coral, the darkest shells and the brightest pearls he could find.

"Now I am content," said he. "For you did not find us ungrateful."

She was impressed by this stranger. Why was one so gallant and strong confined to such dungeons below?

"Stay with me awhile," she commanded. "I should like to learn more about your kind."

"Very well," said he. "But we must keep to these waters. Your father forbade us entry into his lands."

And so they spoke for a time, each enjoying the other's company.

… but both were heedless, for they did not sense the sly wind spying on them from above.

"Tcha!" it spat. "See how she defies her father so. And see how he rests his peasant gaze upon her. I must warn my lord of this grievous trespass."

Up floated the ocean breeze, seeking the highest tower far above. Reaching the king, it whispered everything into his ear.

The proud king seethed red with rage, ash and embers spewing from his eyes.

Blood boiling ablaze, he shattered all the pillars of his castle, throwing them asunder. Seizing his weeping daughter by the arm, he swept her into a gnarled tomb of stone, and cast it deep into the shadowed earth.

"And as for you!" roared the king at the prince. "You did not heed my law, so now you must heed my wrath.

"I curse you," proclaimed the king. "I curse you with eternal hunger, such that you consume even your own people's flesh without being sated. And I curse you with eternal longing, such that you will seek my daughter without a moment's rest.

“But you will never find her, so lightless and far is the prison I have made."

The prince begged for mercy, even as he felt his body warp with cruelty and pain. His subjects fled in terror as he sought their blood, grasping them in his teeth and tearing them to pieces.

He butchered all through the morning and into the night, so dazed with his lust that he collapsed upon the sands.

But still he could not rest, for his soul ached toward another.

"Woe is me!" he cried out to the night sky. "For I am a monster, and I am alone … yet still I must hunt for my princess ... "

He paused, feeling the moon's glow at his back. The queen whispered from above.

"Despair not," said she. "The king was blinded by his pride, but he and I are not alike. I have seen the love you held for my child, and I know you are worthy of one such as she.

"As you once carried gifts to my daughter, take now these three from me: I grant you fronds of palm to adorn your flesh, so that you may carve the oceans with ease. I grant you blackest pearls for eyes, such that they keep diligent watch in the gloom. And I grant you abalone shells to mould wide your jaws, enough to carry between them these scattered mountain peaks, and shatter open the cages of my daughter."

Graced as her champion, the loyal prince staggered into the water, steeling himself for his mighty task. Turning one last time to the wind, he addressed the shifting betrayer.

"You would not grant me a moment's happiness," hissed the prince. "I shall never breathe you again."

Resigning himself to a fate of cold and endless night, he plunged into the waves.

… and so the prince stalks the deep to this day, maw agape in quiet moans of torment, desperate for any trace of his beloved.