Sea of Angels: Book One of the Crithian Trilogy

By M.J Manning

Deep in the shadows of the Estorian seas, Crithians live a peaceful, utopian existence. When a poison they call the Blackness kills the sea creatures and destroys the waters, they are forced to unite and use immortal gifts.

The sea kings daughter, XANADA, is thrust into a world of chaos when she uncovers the truth surrounding her birth. Her fate collides with NEMESIS, a realm walker fighting to gain her trust while covertly submitting to evil.

Estoria plunges into chaos, with Crithians, mortals, the undead, and the gods all fighting for one ultimate power, a power that is XANADAS birthright and one she must learn to control before the Blackness turns both land and sea to ruin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Mar 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781482864854

M.J Manning

Monica Manning is the Author of 'Where I Found My Joy.' She is New Zealand born but currently resides in Cairns, Australia. She lives with one of her sources of inspiration, her Jack Russell Jerry. Monica changed her own life in miraculous ways when she taught herself to connect to her Inner Being. Her book is written from 'inspirit'ation.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Nemesis paced angrily, back and forth, along the shoreline. Pieces of coral and broken shells crunched under his boots and beyond, the tide swept in, sending dying fingers of foam to soak the hem of his long black robe. He hated the world of Firestorm. The rugged and dangerous journey through time and space to find this ghostly place had left both body and mind exhausted. He had mastered travelling to thousands of actual realms scattered throughout the Universe but this spectral place was as unpleasant a place as he'd ever been, where thousands of tormented souls pleaded for mercy throughout his stay. For the sake of what he had to accomplish, he had to ignore the supplications. It left Nemesis with a sense of pain and bleakness.

The Blackness, creator of this damned place, approached, an ominous dark cloud, sliding over the rollers. It hovered above the water, a vulgar ghost with no distinguishable shape. It wavered a little as if feeding on the screams. Nemesis clenched his fists when the cloud haltered before him. He bowed obediently but snarled in the depths of his cloak's hood. A vision filled the Crithian's mind. This kind of power, caused him great torment. He fell to his knees and clenched his head as if it were about to explode; and then he witnessed the struggle of Alexies, trying to protect her foetus.

The Crithian female swam at frantic speed. Her raven hair fell to her waist and flowed across a heavily pregnant belly. Her bright green tail pushed forward as fast as she could manage, until she finally reached her destination.

Alexies dived deep and hid behind Euphemia, City of Gems. Her heart pounded in terror, and pain lanced through her as the birth contractions began. "It is time, little one, for your birth here, during this special time in history, means you will be blessed with The Secrets of the Sea, and that blessing will ensure your survival while others perish." Alexies cried out as the Gelker alignment of planets began. The six planets: Gragoa, Emporia, Laydon, Karloo, Estoria and Renidon formed into a straight line once every 50,000 rotations. A Crithian born in the City of Gems during the alignment would possess power that even the Gods would envy. Alexies panted and pushed in terror, wishing that someone was there to assist in the birth. She had no choice but to suffer the severe pain until finally her daughter slipped from the womb. A ring of blinding light rose from the sand around where she lay, and tightened, to envelop the infant. The eternal, secret knowledge and power seeped into the infant's soul and, for a few moments, she glowed as brightly as the sun. Alexies lifted the girl to her breasts as the light faded, unaware that she was haemorrhaging. A shark, swimming some distance away, picked up the scent and turned fluidly towards the source. Xanada, Alexies thought weakly, welcome to the world. Be strong my daughter, for the power you possess means you can trust no one.

A disturbance in the water broke her concentration and Alexies looked up. The shark was approaching rapidly, excited by the promise of easy prey and the smell of fresh blood. As fast as was possible in her condition, she kissed Xanada goodbye and hid her in the cleft of a rock. She had fulfilled her destiny; that of bearing a healthy daughter despite the circumstances; and now Xanada's life force pulsated with the divine power of the Secrets. Alexies would take with her, into the realm of the dead, the feel of Xanada's skin, the sound of her tiny heart beat, and the beautiful emerald green of her eyes. She allowed herself one final moment of peace; a twinkling of time where she could immerse herself in the joy of the new life she had borne.

The shark circled, sniffing and savouring the meal. When it was ready to feast, it lunged at Alexies, with lightning speed, in all of its water-foaming fury. A short distance away, Necksa, hiding behind a tall statue while watching his wife being devoured, realised that now was the moment to snatch the wretched infant. The thought of feeding it to the shark as dessert was tempting but Alexies had planned cleverly and ensured that her daughter would be born in prophecy. Necksa considered the fortunate tragedy that was being played out before his eyes, and smiled. The advantages he could gain by keeping the infant alive far outweighed the disadvantages.

Nemesis, on the other hand, stifled the urge to scream. Not only had the Blackness forced him to visualize the images of birth and death in his mind, but it had added the agony the Crithian mother had undergone throughout the birth and afterwards, being devoured. He trembled at first in horror, and then relief when the pain finally subsided.

When the vision was complete, Nemesis thought about the prophecy into which the infant was born. Xanada could pose a threat to their plans. Nemesis watched as the Blackness disappeared beyond the wild, crashing swell of the ocean. He held his hand aloft and released a current of energy from his palm which, in turn, revealed a channel for his journey to Estoria; where the Blackness had already commenced its destruction.

The bolt of pure energy was unique to Crithians. Their immortal brains had evolved far beyond that of land dwellers, to the point where they could also converse by thought or word of mouth. The brain cavity was larger in proportion and contained an extra chamber from where the fiery energy could be summoned to their palms. The race was, on average, a full head taller and wider shouldered than the people on the land. Their dual-action lungs held twice the volume of air when compared to a mortal and each was made up of an upper and lower chamber. The upper chamber breathed air but shut naturally when the Crithian was beneath the ocean, where the lower portion 'breathed' water. They were the result of many millions of evolutionary rotations but knew not from where they had originated. Nor did they know where the land walkers had originated. They loved the ocean and didn't dwell on such things, until the ocean came under attack.

Chapter One

Sea king

Xanada tried to dry her long, silken hair as quickly as possible by pulling and twisting it in an effort to ring excess water off the extremities. On land, so much wet hair was a burden and, to make matters worse, it looked like sky-water would fall soon. She questioned herself as to why she hadn't planned the trip properly. Something had been stirring in her thoughts for the last while. A thunderous voice called out in her dreams yet, when she awoke, she could never remember what words were spoken; until last night. Go to Wisdom Cliff!

She had scaled the torturous cliff face many times, simply for the reward of enjoying the spectacular scenery and the thirst for escapades which urged her to leave the relative safety of the sea for adventures on land. When she first emerged from the warm water and into the cold wind, her legs began to tremble. It was a natural occurrence for her body to undergo the transformation from Crithian to land dweller form. She vigorously massaged her leg muscles, to increase the blood circulation, and took in a first breath of air to inflate her lungs. She wheezed and coughed, voiding salt water, until her breathing eased. Leaving the waters and entering the dry land environment proved a difficult, and sometimes, painful transition but, on this occasion, she did so using sheer determination. The desire to discover, if the voice was indeed real, drove her onwards. Pontus help me, she whispered, when her voice was functional, for if no answers are found on Wisdom Cliff, then surely I am going mad!

Xanada only dared to leave the protection of her natural home after sunset when she used her keen eyesight to move away from the shore and enter the heavily timbered forest. It proved difficult for her to navigate around the trees and over frozen ground in the bitter cold. She longed for a heavy cloak of the type land dwellers wore but dared not enter a village in an attempt to steal one.

As far as she was aware, land dwellers did not know the Crithian race even existed; and the sea laws were written to ensure it remained that way. The number one law was simple; never exit the sea. Nevertheless, Xanada chose to break that law, and she wondered at times if there were others who did the same. She negotiated her way through the forest silently, keenly aware that the senses she possessed in Crithian form, while in the deep waters, were of next to no use on land. Her only advantage over land dwellers was the keen sight she possessed in darkness. During her last visit to the cliff, Xanada had made a point of laying a subtle trail by snapping particular branches and intertwining vines in order to return the way she had come. Almost six moon passages since the last time she had been in the forest, she was pleasantly surprised to discover that portions of her trail remained, even though they were difficult to detect.

When she had climbed high enough to be within sight of the bluff face, Xanada's heart skipped a beat on catching sight of her father and the sea king standing toe to toe by the cliff's edge. They were arguing fiercely and loudly, no more than 15 paces from where she had huddled into a ball behind a boulder, soaking wet and shivering in the strong, cold wind rising up from the ocean far below.

Wind assisted, the angry voices carried to within earshot. You are the King! her father roared. You are the only one who can change the sea laws!

The existing laws were created to protect the Crithian race, and it is my duty to enforce them! Gliesis, the sea king, felt a rising surge of anger and expanded his huge chest pectorals as a sign of his regal authority and, at the same time, as a warning to his fellow Crithian who dared to challenge the laws. Gliesis had known Necksa for almost 20,000 rotations and, throughout that time, neither man had liked the other.

Bah! Necksa hissed, why should we be afraid of land dwellers? They are pitiful, useless creatures. Crithians should be ruling both sea and land!

Enough, Gliesis raised his hand, palm out, toward Necksa's face, bored of the useless argument. "I cannot believe you dragged me up to the pinnacle of this wretched cliff to argue such ... such idiocy! I will not change the sea laws and you, as one of my subjects, will accept my judgment in the matter, Necksa! This time-wasting conflict is at an end." Gliesis turned his back on Necksa and stepped to the very edge of the precipice. He lifted his powerful arms into the air and dropped off the cliff edge, arrowing down towards the ocean.

Necksa's entire body was shaking, but not from the bitter cold. Rage enveloped him, and his chest heaved with fury. He screamed his wrath into the wind, I WILL NEVER ACCEPT! before sprinting to the cliff top's edge and diving downwards, into the night.

Gliesis glided down the rocky face, with the sleek grace of a seabird, hungering to be one with his natural home; the water. He was nearing his destination when, out of the darkness, a massive, hand seized his neck. In an instant, Necksa took the king in a headlock and they began a rotating, free-fall struggle. Gliesis' shock and unpreparedness gave the other Crithian the upper hand, but the king still tried gamely to defend himself. His attempts were in vain because Necksa had fallen on him much too quickly. When Necksa had taken a tight grip, he twisted viciously and broke the sea king's neck before letting him go. Both crashed into the ocean at great speed, but it was of no consequence to Gliesis. Necksa swam out to sea, leaving behind the sea king's lifeless body, floating face down in the dark water.

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One moon passage later, Xanada was present at her father's coronation, even though she was desperate for sleep and it took all of the willpower she could muster to feign interest at this very special time. Crithian kings, and queens, ruled for 10,000 rotations before stepping aside for another. It had always been that way.

She should be rejoicing in the coronation of her father as the new sea king, yet she could not shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong. She hadn't witnessed what had occurred between her father and Gliesis once they had left the cliff top. She simply felt that flying down from Wisdom Cliff was not deadly, in fact it was a simple accomplishment for any Crithian. Gliesis' body had been found half eaten by sharks but, for some reason, nobody had dared to question how a shark could possibly kill the mighty and powerful sea king?

Reluctantly, she looked up at the moment when Pontus placed the gem encrusted crown onto her father's golden head. Who was she then, to question the wisdom and power of the sea god? Pontus' massive glowing body gleamed in her eyes and, for a moment, the god turned to face her. She trembled involuntarily. His eyes, shimmering with the colors of the sea, seemed to look right into her soul but then, he smiled gently and nodded with reassurance. Xanada, mesmerized and partly mistrustful, could only stare back at him with tired eyes.

The entire Crithian race attended the crowning of the new king. Their numbers were alarmingly small when it was considered they were a magical and powerful species. Three hundred and fourteen, including herself. It was difficult for a female to become pregnant, let alone give birth. If it wasn't for their immortality, the Crithian race would have dwindled to nothing long ago.

Every one of the other 313 Crithians swam up to Necksa to pay their respects and show adoration. Xanada stayed in the background, shaking. Ever since she was a child, her father had done little else but constantly reminded her of how useless she was; and not an Estorian rotation passed without him telling her that she was responsible for her mother's death. A fully-fledged adult now with a deeper understanding of herself, Xanada stayed away from him as much as possible. Nevertheless, it seemed strange that, as endless as the waters were, she could never entirely escape from his presence.

It's a small world after all, Pontus said in her thoughts. Mindreading was a race attribute, but could be a curse. One had to be careful to shield private musings.

She whipped around to face him. It is rude to interfere with another's thoughts! Even a god does not hold that right.

Pontus laughed in her mind. It seems to me you're tired, Princess. For that reason alone, I will forgive such an outburst, he said. His voice thundered in her mind, pounding in between her ears to stress his point; and his gleaming body was almost blinding in its brilliance. During this time of the crowning, the god had chosen to greet them using the body form of a Crithian. It did not matter what form Pontus chose for, even as a sea barnacle, he could read her thoughts and those of any Crithian.

Why do you allow this? she asked him, eyes darting behind him to make sure no one was listening in her mind. My father cannot be trusted, she said, forthrightly and forcefully. There are many others here more worthy of wearing the Crithian crown.

Pontus put up his massive hand, shaking his head with displeasure. Dare you question me, Xanada? He bent and placed his head close to hers. She allowed herself to lock eyes with his, daring to break the unwritten rules of deference. What did she care? Pontus had proven himself incapable of choosing a worthy sea king. Trust... his words boomed in her brain before he disappeared, leaving bubbles and sand where he had just been.

After his disappearance, she felt a great heartache, a physical pain in her body. Xanada! Come here, her father called. She snapped out of her momentary trance and swam reluctantly over to him. Necksa draped a muscular arm over her shoulder and kissed his daughter roughly on the head. You all know my daughter, Xanada, Necksa said into the minds of all of those about him. Or should I say, Princess Xanada. His pronouncement sounded completely absurd, and she could not help but laugh with embarrassment. Nobody appeared to notice her mirth, except her father. Necksa squeezed her shoulder with brutal force, the pain brought tears to her eyes.

To her relief, a Crithian by the name of Starllon swam over to them and bowed. For a moment, his azure eyes met hers before he noticed Necksa's hand under her hair. Come, Princess Xanada, Starllon smiled warmly at her, and held out his hand for her to take. I am Starllon. Please, I would be honored if you would share some time with me, and my good friend, Uthon.

A grand idea, Starllon, Necksa grinned, roughly letting go of Xanada's shoulder and pushing her towards Starllon. I want her to know everyone before this rotation is over; and that means no more solitude, Daughter. No more hiding from the world. For herself, Xanada wanted to cry about the tragedy of this immoral coronation and from the pain in her shoulder.

She took Starllon's hand and he led her away from the crowd to introduce her to his friend. This is Uthon, Starllon said. The two had met fleetingly on occasion but, nonetheless, Uthon gave an over exaggerated bow, his silver tail stretching out to one side. He was magnificently adorned with hair as white as the sand and was of a tall, noble stature that surpassed even her father, who stood at seven feet.

Xanada had heard of these two's escapades. They had a reputation for outlandish and adventurous behaviour and were also very popular with Crithian females. A pleasure, Uthon said, with a lopsided grin while studying Xanada's perfection. In all his life, he had yet to see a Crithian more beautiful than the one who floated before him, meeting his gaze with a frank and open stare. Her black tresses shimmered, falling down to her waist where the startling colours of her tail took shape. Silver and blue, blue and silver; the flickering contrasts made him giddy. 'Surely such a magnificent creature could not be real,' he thought. Her cheeks flushed pink, but not from the chill of the water or the cold wind that blew across the surface. Uthon could tell from the look of anger and distrust in Xanada's emerald eyes that she was ill at ease and would rather be anywhere but there with them. Her breasts, round and large under her hair, heaved up and down and she struggled to control her breathing.

Starllon interrupted Uthon's transfixed state with a hard hit on the arm. Never mind him, Starllon said. I believe celebrations are in order.

Xanada's back stiffened. There is nothing to celebrate. Silence fell over the trio, and Xanada immediately regretted what she had said. She would have to be more careful with her outbursts.

If Starllon was startled by her angry words, he did not show it. He simply said, Well, Princess, if you have no wish to celebrate the great occasion, then perhaps you would like to spend the rest of the celebration with us? I promise I won't allow Uthon to flirt with you in his usual juvenile way.

Xanada looked back to where her father was holding court amongst a crowd of fawning subjects. She nodded as she turned back to Starllon. Yes, thank you, she transferred, matter-of-factly. I think I would like that. She swam behind the two Crithians, watching the magnificence of their tail's glide through the waters.

It seemed they had been swimming for hours before Starllon finally called a halt and turned to smile at her. Look, he pointed, do you see the glow?

Xanada looked to where he was indicating, and sighed. Of course I do. How can one miss it?

The glow of the greatest City in the realm, and possibly the entire universe, Uthon said.

Tell me something I don't know. Yonder is my birth place, and where my mother died, Xanada said. She wrung her hands in frustration at being brought to the one place that held so many sad memories. 'Have I not suffered enough torment?' she considered. 'But perhaps,' she sighed thoughtfully, 'it's fated that I join with my mother's spirit for a short while.'

Starllon grabbed her hand. I'm sorry, Xanada. Come, let us leave.

No, she said, while gently removing his hand. Please Starllon, it will be alright,

Starllon and Uthon placed her between themselves, took a hand each and swam by her side to Euphemia, City of Gems. To all Crithians, this was the most enchanted, and most beautiful place, in all of their world. Tall pillars rose up from the sea bed in a circular formation around mammoth statues of Crithian gods and heroes of old, and embedded in the coral and rock were precious stones of all colors, glistening, under the sun's rays, in every sculptured crevice.

Xanada swam around the statues in wonder. They stood at least three times as high as a Crithian male, their eyes glistening with jewels. Her hand glided over each of the magnificent chiselled statues. One, Abreillin, god of the sun, two, Valon, god of the stars and three, Eanos, goddess of the moon. Four, Libyen, god of the air, five, Xyon, god of fire and finally, six, Pontus, god of the sea. Pontus travelled to all of the worlds in the universe, hand picking every single jewel. There must be hundreds of thousands of them, Uthon remarked, staring up at the face on the statue of Eanos. Now she is a looker, wouldn't you agree? he grinned. The statue of Eanos was extraordinary. Her sculpted hair had been delicately carved to give an impression that it flowed in the most intricate of twists and swirls down her back, with jewels of gold and silver fitted into every stony strand. Her breasts were huge and diamonds had been used decorously to cover her nipples.

Xanada swam close to Eanos and studied her face from below. She was gazing at a mirror image of herself. High cheek bones reached up to reveal astonishing emerald eyes. The full lips of the statue seemed to be smiling directly at her. Xanada was beyond startled. The connection she felt to the moon goddess was electric and more powerful than the one she had felt in the presence of Pontus. Perhaps, she mused, the pressure she was under, and the long swim, had served to befuddle her mind and light her imagination. It took all of Xanada's pride and strength to stop herself from weeping. She did not want to show any weakness in front of her new friends. Instead, she swam a short distance away to shield her thoughts and dull the heartache, knowing that when she was eventually alone, she would cry for what once was.

When they had finished their individual exploring, they regrouped by the base of the Pontus' statue. Can you believe we actually saw him during this very rotation? Starllon said.

No, not really, Uthon replied. But do not forget, Starllon, that whom we saw wasn't actually Pontus himself, but a vision. A god dressed as a Crithian.

Starllon laughed. I wonder what Pontus does when he returns to wherever it is gods live. Do you think they have wives?

Do you two think of nothing but women? Xanada said, light-heartedly. She watched the two males as they laughed, and, despite her inner sadness, laughed along with them.

She felt a pang of guilt, showing mirth in the very place her mother had perished but she was sure it was okay to be a little happy when she was with two new friends. She settled on ignoring any feelings of guilt and, with a strained smile, drifted beside Starllon and Uthon. She so wanted to treasure this moment in time, to have something wonderful and precious of her own. Xanada looked up at the statue of Pontus and wondered if he had anything to do with the sudden appearance of these two males at a confusing time when she thought all honesty and righteousness was lost. She simply could not fathom why Pontus would crown Necksa as king. The reality of the entire situation, from the killing to the coronation, finally hit home, and she put her aching head in her hands.

Are you alright? Should we leave you alone now? Starllon asked her.

No, I'm fine. I was just thinking of Necksa.

It is clear to us that you did not wish him to be king, did you? Uthon asked using a concerned tone, his light blue eyes looking fondly at her.

I guess I know my father too well. His intentions are only ever selfish; to further his own ends. I just don't understand why Pontus would crown him when I'm sure he knows the truth. It's very confusing, to say the least, she told them.

I'm sorry for you and wish I could ease the secretive burden you bear. No one knows why our god allows things to happen, Uthon replied.

Gliesis wasn't the best of kings, but he allowed us to be free, to come and go as we pleased, Starllon said. Whatever the reason for Pontus allowing your father to be king, I want to know how his rule will affect us on a personal basis and, yes, how it will affect the entire Crithian race.

Xanada shrugged her shoulders. My father has never treated me kindly. There was a time, when I reached an age where I was mature and strong enough, I swam as far away from him as was possible. I managed to avoid him for over a hundred rotations but the fates which control my passage through life, dictated that our paths crossed accidentally, and from that moment up to a short while ago, he had not let me out of his sight. There was one night ... She hesitated.

Uthon took her hand and squeezed it gently. One night what, Xanada?

She wanted ever so desperately to unburden herself and tell them what she had witnessed on Wisdom Cliff, but something within her being, perhaps a concern for what might happen to her new friends if they had to carry such a terrible secret, told her to hold her tongue. It doesn't matter, she said softly, forcing a smile.

I believe you have come to us for a reason, Xanada, Starllon said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Uthon rolling his eyes and she laughed. Her mirth broke the building tension and her two companions joined in. Let us make a pact, Starllon held out the back of his large hand. From this moment onward, no matter what happens, we will stick together. A change has come to the Crithian race. Necksa is the new king but something, deep within my soul, says nothing will ever be the same again. I felt this even as the crown was placed on his head.

Because of their virtual immortality, a pact, between those of the Crithian kind, was held in the highest regard as a sacred and spiritual undertaking by those who agreed to this avowed eternal connection.

Uthon laughed while shaking his head. Starllon, you really are the eternal optimist. He looked at Xanada but slapped his hand over Starllon's. You know, where our friendship is concerned, I'll go for it. He turned his eyes on his friend and the two nodded with satisfaction and acknowledgment of each other and their pact. As one, they looked at Xanada. After a slight hesitation, she placed her hand on top of theirs.

"By the gods that look down at us now, I pledge our friendship and everlasting sincerity.

Nothing or no one will ever come between us," Starllon said fiercely. When all three had repeated the pact, Uthon, both moved and aroused by the moment, wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her passionately. Xanada responded hungrily before inviting Starllon into their embrace. They made love to her through the night, and whispered in her thoughts, We will love you and protect you always, Xanada. In the years ahead, that promise, and their pact with one another, would be tested to the limits of what a Crithian could endure.

CHAPTER TWO

Captured

Xanada, wake up ! Uthon shook the princess gently out of her drifting sleep.

She wiped her eyes and gave him her best look of displeasure. Why must you wake me? You know I don't sleep well, and yet all I ask for are a few hours to keep me going.

I know, I know, Uthon said, apologetically while urgently pulling her into his embrace. I am truly sorry, my sweet, but we must journey north for you to see this. She could feel the panic in his mind. They swam swiftly for some sunsets, until they arrived near the shores of a remote country, far to the north-east of Euphemia, called Tristam, and raised their heads above the level of the swell to take a look. Over one hundred dolphins lay dead on the sand; their bodies covered by a thick, tarry substance that rolled in and out of the breakers. Xanada cried out in horror, wanting to go to them, but Uthon placed a restraining arm around her waist and shook his head. That substance is toxic, Xanada, he said, using his vocal chords.

Pontus save us, Xanada whispered, deeply shocked. This is the seventh occurrence this rotation alone.

"Your father has named it the Blackness. He maintains it is not a threat to us, or the waters, and that, in time, it will disappear."

My father does little else but talk nowadays. He sits back on his throne and heartlessly observes while his subjects and other sea creatures die because of this scourge. Xanada coughed, her speaking voice coming to terms with her head being raised above the water.

There is something else, Xanada.

More bad news?

Starllon has located a pod of forty humpbacks on the western shores of Jazareth, and a great number of species lie dead on the eastern sands of Rillus. He says those he found on Rillus consist of seals, whales, sharks and dolphins of all different species. Thousands of them, Princess.

How can that possibly be? The migration period between different species of sea creatures varies greatly, so, in reality, it shouldn't be possible for so many sea creatures to end up on the same beach, she said in response.

Perhaps answers and solutions will be forthcoming at the planned gathering.

I very much doubt it. My father will swim about in all of his glory and bemoan the devastation, but he won't proffer any solutions. Although, on a more positive note, if all of the Crithians attend, we may come up with some answers using our collective minds. I think it would be safe to assume that others have witnessed more incidences of this carnage elsewhere.

You realize, of course, that if Necksa doesn't fulfil his regal responsibilities, then you will have to carry the burden of saving the sea creature population, Xanada, Uthon smiled at her. The blue in his eyes paled, and Xanada could easily read the smile he gave her as one of sadness. She felt that Uthon would weep for the dead when he was alone, as would she.

For a moon passage, they swam back south, to the deep sea cave she currently occupied; and Uthon, usually chatty to the point of being annoying, was silent in her mind on the whole journey. She tucked herself into a sleeping crevice in the cave, watching him carefully as he drifted nearby, fanning out his great silver tail.

Why do you think Necksa waited so long to hold a gathering? The question was almost rhetorical because she knew her companion had no more answers than her. Surely the first sighting of this so called Blackness would cause a certain amount of alarm. It is not a substance caused by land dweller pollution; the high number of deaths and the unusual circumstances prove that.

Perhaps Necksa was hoping the problem would eventually fade away, Uthon said, absently. His thoughts lay elsewhere, and Xanada chose not to continue with the topic. She would have the chance to ask the king himself in a few hours.

I'll come and get you later, Uthon said before swimming from the confines of the cave. Fear suddenly constricted his throat, but he did not know why.

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Xanada moved restlessly in her sleep and, deep in her subconsciousness, she was trapped in a dream. She was swimming through rough seas with great urgency, enveloped in darkness and, even with her keen sight, the task of seeing where she was headed proved nearly impossible; but she was determined to find her mother. She was sure Alexies swam some way ahead. Mother! she screamed in her sleep. Come back! Weariness and despair were overcoming her when suddenly, as if things weren't bad enough, she hit an invisible barrier. In sheer desperation, she followed the wall for some distance one way, turned and went in the opposite direction, still feeling her way along the glassy surface of the barrier in the hope of finding a way to swim around it. She was well aware that the more time she wasted, the greater the distance became between her mother and her. The wall seemed to stretch forever, and, in frustration, she pounded it with her fists until the inevitable occurred; they bruised, swelled and bled. In her dream state, she knew a shark, hunting in the vicinity, had picked up the scent, turned and was racing toward her. There appeared to be no escaping the great beast. Again, she pounded on the wall with her wounded hands, pleading with the gods to help her, pleading with her mother to return, but no one heard or perhaps, if there was someone beyond the barrier, they chose to ignore her entreaties.

The enormous lower jaw of the shark dropped open, its bloodstained teeth ready to strike. She screamed with the horror of what confronted her because her mother was in the shark's mouth. Alexies' eyes were milk white in death and her face pale and swollen.

'This was my death! Free yourself from guilt!'

Xanada shot up from sleep; eyes immediately wide open with shock. With the residual horror still alive in her mind, she clamped arms across her breasts, seeming to prevent her racing heart exploding from a heaving chest cavity. As time passed, her dreams, forever plagued with vile images, grew in their obscenity. This latest nightmare was the most graphic and realistic, and there was something else; she was sure a message with meaning had been passed in the words her dead mother had spoken. Xanada rubbed her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut in concentration. All her life, she had been led to believe Alexies had died while giving birth to her daughter and the blame for that death had been foisted on Xanada. Why then, did this dream, or message, say otherwise? To a Crithian, dreams were very important. Dreams revealed hidden desires, weaknesses, strengths and shame. They opened a porthole to another world in which you could witness what could not be seen or understood in the waking world. Some were mixed with silliness and bewilderment while others were sent by the gods to warn or to give a message.

Xanada lay in the sleeping crevice inside her cave, shaking with sadness and remorse and wishing ever so desperately that her mother had survived to give her daughter the maternal love so desperately needed by the young Crithian female. The emotion threatened to overcome her entirely but the inherent courage she possessed made her sit up and punch the side of the cave as she had done to the invisible wall in her dream.

Necksa! she fumed in her mind. She clenched her teeth and her emerald eyes smouldered with rage. He had filled her head with lies for all of her life. Surely he would know that the power of dreams would eventually reveal the truth to his daughter? Or is that what he had planned all along? she mused. She rubbed the back of her hand where it swelled and began to bleed; unable to rid the horrid image of her mother in the jaws of the massive white shark. Xanada had often wondered how it was possible for Gliesis to die by a shark, and now she found herself asking the same questions concerning Alexies' death. No Crithian denied the ferocity of sharks, and that they killed other species with ease, but to kill a Crithian? Not only could a Crithian out-swim even the most aggressive and brawny of sharks, a single use of their power would be enough to kill or maim the animal. Xanada studied her hand as she considered the whys and wherefores. Sharks, like Crithians, could breathe, hear, and see underwater. They were very successful hunters, but race memory had taught them not to dare hunt the Crithian kind; unless a particular Crithian was disadvantaged or injured. Her green eyes darkened with dread. She was well aware her father had been the last to see both Gliesis and Alexies alive, and that both had been left to the same fate. The truth, as she surmised it to be, made Xanada sick. What should she do now? Who could she tell? Ah, but the sweetness of her mother's words in the dream. She smiled bitterly and wiped her mouth, tasting the coppery flavour of blood from the wound on her hand. I was not the cause of my mother's death! she now realised. A hand on her shoulder made her jump. Uthon! she sobbed with relief, and threw her arms around his neck.

My poor girl, he stroked her hair. Another bad dream?

Xanada shook her head wildly. No. I mean yes, but ... Uthon cupped her chin in his hand and studied her eyes. The ocean thundered behind them, and they gleamed with such intensity he had to blink.

Xanada ... But Xanada did not hear him in her mind. She had leapt from the cave and bolted toward Euphemia, City of Gems. Once there, she would question her father.

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Necksa folded his muscular arms casually over his chest while leaning against the statue of Pontus. She was coming. He could feel her rage and read her thoughts. He saw her as clearly as the statue that supported his huge frame. She was travelling at a speed that he himself was barely capable of achieving, swimming towards Euphemia, ducking through masses of seaweed and around pods of dolphins. He smiled while heaving a satisfied sigh. He had predicted what would be unveiled in her dreams and that unveiling had come at the perfect moment in time, before the meeting took place. 'And there is so much more to come, my little one,' he mused as he stood away from the statue and swam into deeper water.

It was only a short while before he began greeting his arriving guests. Xanada's wretched friends arrived together, frantically looking about for any sign of her. She swam off in a frenzy after a dream she had ... Necksa read the thoughts of Uthon. Uthon, feeling the unwanted intrusion in his mind, turned to give his king a sharp look of disapproval.

Necksa counted 313 Crithians, including himself, and smiled again. Xanada was still nowhere to be seen, and it took all of his self control not to howl loudly with laughter. Instead, he swam, around and about the statues, in a theatrical display utilizing his massive orange and yellow tail. Finally, when he had everyone's attention, he stopped at the base of Abreillin's effigy. He thought it appropriate, to stop below the god of the sun. Abreillin, adorned with gold and speckled with red and orange gems, and resembling the new king, who was also also golden in hair and tail. Welcome! he sung in everyone's mind. "Now I know you must have a lot of questions concerning what I have called the Blackness. However, be assured it is of no great threat to us. The seas are vast, covering most of this world. That alone should tell you a mere aggravation, such as the Blackness is, will not even touch the sides!"

A muscle in Starllon's throat throbbed in anger at the insincerity and indifference in Necksa's voice. He scanned the crowd looking for Xanada, and vainly tried to hear her thoughts. Where was she?

Xanada trembled, despite her best efforts to stay as still as possible. She could not believe what was right in front of her eyes. This time of the rotation, after the sea creatures had fed and the nocturnal animals were still resting, life around the reefs was supposed to be quieter. She had chosen this route as a shortcut however, the lashing about and fierce snarls of the eight tiger sharks surrounding her, made it patently obvious, it had been an error of judgement. She had never in history heard of such an ambush on a Crithian yet, within these past few rotations since her father had become sea king, little in her life made sense.

Although sharks were intelligent beings, they could not speak through minds like a Crithian. There was no way of asking them politely to leave her alone, or to bargain with them. By the deadpan, emotionless stares in their small, black eyes, it was obvious all they saw in front of them was a tasty meal. 'Still, why would they risk attacking me?' she considered for a moment. 'My injured hand; of course.' She raised it to her eyes and saw a wisp of blood rising in the water. Through her determination and fury to reach her father, Xanada had not noticed the severity of the wound nor how much blood was escaping. A chill enveloped her. Thinking back to the dream concerning her mother, she decided this imminent attack was no coincidence. A shark sprung forward, snapping its jaws in warning. Xanada shut her eyes and took a deep breath to focus her will to survive, triggering the hidden power possessed by every Crithian. She held her hand up facing outward and hurled a ball of raw energy at the nearest predator, managing to strike it on the rear flank. Her natural power was too weak to kill the beast but, where she had hit, the flesh was shredded and blood poured from the wound into the water. Xanada panicked. She had made the situation worse. The remaining crazed animals went berserk over the smell of more blood, and charged en masse at her. With no time to conjure up another ball, Xanada turned away and swam for all she was worth.

----------------------------

I understand your point on the enormous expanse of the seas, and her remarkable ability to rejuvenate, but I do not believe we should see this Blackness as nothing more than a disturbance! It has killed thousands of small and large sea creatures, perhaps even hundreds of thousands. It is impossible to tell just how much devastation this dark substance has caused. I believe we must find out its true potential, and the danger it poses, before we judge the situation so lightly! Uthon said loudly to the king and the Crithians around him. All nodded with concern and agreement, except Necksa. He cocked his head to one side and stroked his long, golden beard, feigning deep consideration of Uthon's words. Starllon took hold of Uthon's large shoulder, hoping to calm him down.

For the past hour, the meeting had gone nowhere. Always, his subjects would argue, and always the new king would defend. A king's duty was to hear and respect his kind, though nothing of the sort was happening here.

We do not even know where and how this substance is developing, or even what it is! Is it harmful to us if it has the capacity to murder even the largest of whales? a red tailed Crithian named Vandoros asked.

Necksa, growing increasingly impatient, rolled his eyes. Trust me, my friends, he said quietly and held out his hands for good measure. The sea may have grown the Blackness from various types of poisonous coral and plankton. Similar to all the problems we have faced over millennia, it has come, and it will go just as quickly.

It has been with us for rotations now, Necksa! Uthon roared in his mind. He no longer cared for courtesy or respect. Why even bother holding a meeting? Uthon's chest heaved with anger. The very existence of the ocean depended on the Crithian kind. They were the only creatures with abilities and power to help other species unable to protect themselves.

King Necksa to you, Uthon! Necksa screamed back in Uthon's mind.

Uthon's heart pounded with so much force, he thought he could feel the very sea shake. He looked upwards, and his entire frame went rigid. Above Necksa, the statue of the sun god began to crumble; its gems breaking free from where they had been set for thousands of rotations. The crowd swam about frantically, grabbing loved ones while dodging falling chunks of sculpted coral and boulders. Hundreds of voices rattled in his mind. Leave! Leave! It is a quake! Uthon shook his head in bewilderment. Euphemia was built by Pontus to withstand any kind of force! Surely this was a dream, a bizarre and distorted dream, but something shocking occurred at that moment to dismiss that thought. The living waters let forth with a scream for mercy.

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Xanada, paralysed with fear, had let go of the deep wound in her side to cover her ears when the sea screamed. Blood spilled from her body. A shark had attacked and ripped a large section of flesh during the quake. It had glided close and caught her off guard. It proved to be a costly mistake which could have been fatal if the screaming hadn't begun. The sharks disappeared, more rapidly than they had appeared, into the murky waters as the quake shook the ocean around them. Xanada felt the full force of the sea whip about her body. Her power proved useless against the rage of the water as it pushed and rolled her bleeding form