Psarás was shocked into speechlessness at Marcela’s words. He stared at her, looking for signs of deception as generations of hatred had taught him. Given their historical family rivalry, every fiber in Psarás’s body distrusted her. After the Honu family disappeared, the Manō and Delfíni fought for the right to lead the Aeqori. The Manō won, declaring themselves the rulers of the Aeqor. Zale further blessed the Manō for their victory by granting them the power to live underwater. Without the turtle spirit’s gift, the Aeqori became a broken people scattered to different parts of Monsa. Despite this and the ridiculousness of her claim, Psarás could not discern any dishonesty or ill intent.

Marcela floated on the surface of the ocean. She addressed Psarás, “Magical transformations are complicated. Only my mother has the skill to reverse this.”

Psarás burst into frenzied laughter. “Are you insane? Only the gods can change form.”

“Normally, I would agree with you, but I witnessed it with my own eyes.” Marcela grew impatient.

“Bring him to the surface so I can see with my own eyes,” ordered Psarás.

Marcela shook her head. “It is not safe. I do not know if this new form can breathe air or only water. I know you are upset, but you must calm yourself for his sake.”

Psarás was visibly crying. “You need to give me your word that he will be safe in your care.”

Marcela nodded in agreement. “You have it. I will not let anything harm him on my honor. This whole situation is extremely unusual. How did he end up in the water in the first place?”

Psarás motioned for Marcela to wait. He looked for Wayde, who had passed out on the floor below deck. Psarás picked him up and carried him upstairs to the side of the boat facing Marcela. He positioned Wayde against the side of the railing. “Tell us what happened, or I will throw you into the sea myself.”

Stirring, Wayde opened his eyes, looking around at his surroundings. “Monster … gigantic tentacle… like an octopus arm. It grabbed him and knocked me back. We were drinking and talking. And now he’s gone.”

“You gave him ale. I ought to throw you over for that alone,” roared Psarás.

Marcela interrupted, “Strange. I know these seas better than anyone, and I know of no monstrous anything.” She glared at Wayde, distrustful of his answer.

“He is a drunkard. There has not been one night since I hired him that his lips haven’t touched ale. His words and eyes are useless when he is like this. Once he sobers up, I will have the truth from him by one means or another,” escalated Psarás motioning like he was going to hit Wayde.

“Perhaps, but I sense something unnatural in these waters. Yet another reason for us to make haste. I will lend you two of my personal guards. They know the way to my home, and Delfíni, be careful. Whatever caused Pétur to fall may still be lurking about.” Marcela raised her hand and pointed at two female guards.

The two guards swam over to the side of the ship. Dulani warily lowered the rope ladder, helping them into the boat. They nimbly climbed onto the main deck. They were dark-haired warriors and wore the standard formfitting cyan and green uniform shared by the other Manō warriors. Dulani looked them up and down, unimpressed. He mused how the women of his tribe could easily defeat these warriors.

“Get him and his crew safely to the palace. The rest of you scout ahead. I will rejoin Amarus and take the boy to see my mother.” Marcela gazed into the eyes of the warriors on the boat. They nodded slightly as the princess and the rest slipped under the water.

***

At the bottom of the ocean, Amarus diligently watched over the newly transformed Pétur. He was mystified as he had not seen transformation magic in his lifetime. Amarus pondered if the changes were permanent and if any part of Pétur remained. He wondered about Pétur’s voice, considering if the pitch would be higher. Amarus then had a strange notion. He worried that Pétur’s personality might have changed, much to his family’s dismay. With an innocent curiosity and a determination to help Pétur’s family, Amarus decided to take a mental inventory of the observable alterations.

Amarus started his analysis thinking quietly, “His height has reduced considerably. He looks like he would stand just slightly taller than Marcela. His hair color has shifted to gradients of cyan with streaks of white. It’s grown past his shoulders and has a luster to it. His facial features are more feminine. The angles are smoother and rounded. Even his skin seems softer, and his lips are …” He paused for a moment as he realized how stunning Pétur was as a girl. Unusually happy feelings distracted Amarus from his thoughts momentarily. He daydreamed about the possibility of Pétur wanting to stay a girl and needing a close friend to keep him safe. After a few minutes of imagination, Amarus had to remind himself that Pétur, no matter how attractive, was born male. Likely, Pétur would want to return to his natural state.

Shifting his focus, he realized that the transformation had not changed Pétur’s outfit. Panic and embarrassment flashed across Amarus’s face as he turned away from Pétur. He realized Pétur’s V-shaped shirt was too open for a young woman to wear. Amarus felt foolish as he had been staring at her without acknowledging one of the most noticeable changes. He wondered what was taking Marcela so long and what he should do. A wave of urgent resolution washed over Amarus, compelling him to protect Pétur’s dignity. His gaze darted back quickly, assessing whether the shirt had buttons. Luckily there was a single button at the top. Amarus knelt near Pétur, carefully reaching out towards the top of the shirt. He turned his head to avoid any accidental glances. Fumbling, Amarus’s hands found the button to the shirt. After several unsuccessful attempts, he finally latched the button, securing Pétur’s safety.

“What are you doing?” a familiar voice spoke softly in his mind.

Collapsing on the ground, Amarus projected, “It’s not what it looks like, I swear.”

Marcela radiated disappointment. “I thought I told you to watch him.”

Amarus’s thoughts stammered as they flowed into Marcela’s mind. “You did. I did. I needed to … Her shirt was …”

“Her? I think you mean he. And you do not need to explain yourself. Half of the ocean heard your ramblings. You must stay calm, or your thoughts will radiate outwards.” Marcela grinned slyly.

“Yes, princess. Sorry princess.” Amarus looked down in embarrassment.

“Why don’t you get that flustered when I am around,” Marcela teased in a seductive tone.

Amarus looked up in frustration glaring at Marcela. “There’s no sense getting emotional over you if you prefer women.”

Marcela chuckled in her mind. “Aww. But I still like the attention Amarus.”

Amarus’s mood lightened. “You are a terrible best friend.”

“You are a terrible best friend, what Amarus?” Marcela grinned cunningly.

“You are a terrible best friend, princess.” Amarus groaned in frustration from years of this game.

Marcela swam over to examine Pétur more closely. “That was very kind of you. Most men might have made a lesser choice.” She studied Pétur’s new appearance closely. “The change is impressive. I think it would have even fooled my senses. But I do see why you are so excitable. He does make for a pretty girl.”

Amarus changed the subject. “So, what are we doing about her … I mean him?”

Marcela grabbed Pétur’s arm sitting him up. “You and I will swim him back to the capital so my mother can examine him. He is unconscious and in a kind of stasis. You should be able to touch him now. You take his other arm, and we can head off.”

Amarus complied and carefully took Pétur’s other arm. He blushed bright red, which only caused Marcella to shake her head. Within moments they were racing across the ocean floor toward the northern parts of the ocean.

***

With no obstacles in their path, Marcela and Amarus made their way to the northern waters in only a few hours. They arrived on the outskirts of a beautiful underwater city. There were spacious parks, sculptures, and murals on the sides of buildings. The entire area was luminous, allowing Pétur’s star-like glow to easily blend into the background. Although it was on the surface in the middle of the night, the city seemed alive and bustling with Aeqori. The Manō tribe had adapted by becoming nocturnal, allowing them to minimize their interactions with the surface world altogether. At the center of this surreal scene was their destination. Marcela and Amarus pulled Pétur along as they continued toward the palace. Citizens stopped and showed proper respect to Marcela, who ignored the masses trying to get by people flocking in their direction. The streets swarmed with giggling young ladies trying to catch a glimpse of Amarus, much to both of their frustrations. Amarus had been a bachelor of particular interest due to his unique relationship with the queen. He was orphaned at a young age and consequently adopted by the queen. Although he had no royal claim, it still was enough intrigue to make him incredibly popular.

Among the Manō, male children were extremely rare and a curiosity. When any male became old enough to marry, their mothers held competitions to find a worthy daughter-in-law. Men, by tradition, were required to marry the woman of their mother’s choice in hopes that the family line would continue. Although Zale’s blessings granted Manō women an extremely long life, motherhood was not guaranteed for all. Occasionally, women would seek out men outside the Manō, but these pairings never produced a child with Zale’s gifts. Taboos built up over time, and eventually, the Manō withdrew from the world above, accepting their fate. This led much of the current community to form lesbian relationships fulfilling the Aeqori truth that love was as fluid as the ocean.

Eventually, they found themselves in the throne room with Queen Elayna. She stood just under Marcela’s height, dressed in a similarly styled outfit but with the hues of purple coral. Her blonde hair was braided beautifully with underwater blossoms interlaced. On her head sat a pure gold crown shaped like woven seagrass holding a single pearl. Realizing the seriousness of the situation, she sent the guards from the room so she could be alone with her children and their guest.

“What’s wrong?” Elayna asked.

“We found a Kítos girl at the bottom of the ocean, your highness,” formally spoke Amarus.

“Mom. This is Ekeka’s grandson,” Marcela solemnly voiced.

“Grandson? That is ridiculous. This is clearly a girl. And did you say Ekeka? I have not seen her since her ho’okahu as Koholā’s kahu. That must have been around sixty years ago.”

Amarus interrupted the queen, “The princess is telling you the truth. Your Highness, we watched him change into a girl in front of us.”

Queen Elayna smiled at Amarus. “Amarus dear, we are family. There is no need for honorifics here.”

Marcela interjected, “Mom, can’t you sense all this magic coming off him? This is serious. If the Kítos have transformation magic, then there could be another war like there was with the Delfíni.”

“Marcela, my love, why are you always so dramatic? Koholā is kind and peaceful. She has never fought with Zale or our people. If Ekeka’s fate was to wage war, she would never have been chosen as Koholā’s voice.” Elayna gently placed her hands on Pétur to sense the energy in question. A brilliant swirl of white light encased the queen’s hands. “As for your new friend, she is in no real danger. What I am sensing from her is a strange mixture of moon and wind magics. I can clearly sense both Koholā’s and Kýma’s power flowing through her veins as if they were a single force. Strange.”

Amarus’s words stumbled out of his mouth, breaking protocol. “How can someone have the power of multiple spirits?”

Elayna paused before responding, “Normally, it is not possible. However, this girl has accomplished the impossible.”

Surprisingly sparks drove back the queen’s hands from Pétur’s body. The star-like glow dissipated like mist from his body. Pétur yawned while opening his eyes. Looking around the room, he confusedly asked, “Who are you? Wait. Am I dead?” Panic set over Pétur as the voice he heard was not one he recognized. “What’s happening?” He looked down to discover his body had changed in innumerable ways. Pulling away from Marcela’s and Amarus’s grip, he realized he was floating in the water. He quickly held his breath, afraid of drowning. Thinking to himself, but audible to everyone in the room, he screamed, “I’m dying. I can’t breathe.”

Instinctively, Amarus swam up to Pétur and embraced her tightly. “You're ok. Just breathe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Marcela raised one of her eyebrows in dubious suspicion of Amarus’s sudden burst of chivalry.

After a few moments, Pétur relaxed and strangely hugged him back. He took a shallow breath calming his anxiety. Although it wasn’t obvious, he cried as he released his fears. “I was drowning, and now I’m not. What’s happening?”

“Hey, it will be ok. We are going to help you.” Amarus looked down and smiled at Pétur, who was buried in his chest.

Pétur looked up and saw Amarus’s welcoming smile. Something stirred in Pétur, not unlike the feeling he had when Sileny kissed his cheek. His cheeks became bright red, and complicated feelings emerged as he became hyper-aware of Amarus’s physique. He calmed down and smiled back.

Marcela grabbed Amarus’s arm, untethering it from Pétur’s back. “Right, enough of that. Amarus let him ….”

The queen and Amarus simultaneously corrected Marcela, “her!”

Marcela sighed in frustration. “Amarus, let her go so we can get some answers.”

Pétur let go and turned around to see Marcela and the queen. “Her? But aren’t I a boy?”

“Well, that is the thing, dear. You were,” softly soothed the queen.

***

Sileny had boarded the ship with the deckhand. Within moments she was unceremoniously greeted by the crew. She gazed past them in the way that royalty might refuse to acknowledge servants. The deckhand fetched the Bianchi Captain and her Viarum quartermaster. He quickly explained and showed her the money.

“I am Captain Beatrice, and I am not in the habit of taking orders from a spoiled royal,” proudly announced Beatrice.

Sileny spoke without acknowledging the captain. “I only need to meet up with another ship less than a day’s travel from here. I believe what I am offering is more than adequate for the inconvenience.”

“I do not care how much you are offering. Take your money and get off my ship, you pompous ass!” screamed Beatrice.

Sileny turned and faced the quartermaster. Speaking Viar, Sileny insisted, “Tell your wife to stop being unreasonable and take the money. It would be better for everyone to not test my patience today.”

The quartermaster froze in fear while listening to Sileny. She saw Sileny’s eyes change color and fangs emerge in her mouth. She nervously grabbed Captain Beatrice’s arm. “What harm is there in taking her? She is willing to pay us a month’s wages for a day’s work. Please, we could use the money.”

Beatrice was bewildered by her quartermaster’s behavior. She was not a woman easily scared by grown men, let alone a teenage girl. If she was nervous, then this girl was dangerous in some strange way. Captain Beatrice had come to trust the quartermaster’s judgment in all areas over the years.

“Fine. Fine. Where are we going?” Beatrice said while shaking her head.

“To find a friend,” she deviously smiled while turning her head towards Beatrice.