Abijam's heart descended to his stomach with any doubt of what Henry might achieve or wish. His face contorted into a malicious hurricane, eager for destruction. In the depths of his mind, Abijam wondered, pleading with himself.

Everything's fine, Abijam. Just keep the mission on task. Except he had been all along, despite the unknown and the abrupt transformations, Abijam began to realize his position well. It remained evident.

The trembling James sat beside him, his fingers still clutching the book's rubbery cover. His blonde locks hid his flushed face, practically shielding him from another blow to the head. On the other hand, Henry twiddled his thumbs at an alarming speed, yet his aroma emitted something Abijam didn't anticipate.

Interesting, and Henry's human? Of course he is! What else could he be?

The carriage's gradual pace heightened as the horses' powerful legs engaged in a rhythmic gallop. Each hoof struck the ground urgently, sending shivers through the earth beneath them. Abijam captured a stunning view of their flowing manes as their tails fluttered in the wind, his head peeking out the window.

After another prolonged and agonizing ride, Abijam's stomach twisted into a whirlwind of slithering snakes entwining their bodies together. His body shuddered at Henry's frustration.

"Halt! We're here," Henry's voice growled, thundering in Abijam's ears.

As soon as they reached their destination, Abijam's shoulders collapsed as his fingers loosened their grasp. He glanced at James before focusing on the scene unfolding before him. In the distance, he observed Henry, Wilbur, and his father walking toward a quaint cottage.

The small home sat nestled within a tapestry of shrubs that gradually gave way to a thick forest, its towering trees encroaching upon the house as if nature was attempting to reclaim the structure into an endless, shadowy abyss.

Abijam carefully unlatched the door before he gave a light press against it. It emitted a faint creak as Abijam's feet smoothly thudded against the earth's surface.

"Here," he spoke softly, extending his hand out for James. "Let's observe from a distance. I would love to sit with you here, but I'm concerned that Henry might get infuriated."

"You're right," James decided.

Their hands intertwined, their connection palpable, but they parted reluctantly when a man's screech oozed into the cottage's crevices. As James glued himself around Abijam's waist, his body stiffened like a rock.

"What's going on?" asked Abijam.

His voice trembled. "I advise you not to press any further," James urged.

"Why not?"

"Because You're—"

Another yelp caused them to jolt. Abijam's heart thumped almost like it was sprinting for its life, and his chest heaved as he listened to James's whimpers. He began to process the event unfolding before him.

Then, his body shivered with an underlying daunting realization: Father! Naturally, his thoughts went ballistic, and he wondered what would happen if Henry uncovered the truth about who they were—their bond to the sea, the waves, or Arieshell.

No! The male's voice wasn't his father's. On the contrary, the voice from the home sent tingles along Abijam's spine. The wails were almost too unbearable.

Abjiam watched with disbelief as Henry and the coachman struggled to drag a robust man with wild, black hair. A larger man beside the struggling man became entangled, causing their movements to become desperate.

"No! Let us go! What did we ever do to you?" The man yelled, blowing a strand of his raven-black hair out of his face.

"You know why!" Henry bellowed. "You're supposed to be the heir to my throne! And this is how you repay me? By sleeping with a man?"

"He's my friend, Uncle! We are not courting!"

Henry scoffed. "You would like to be!"

Abijam stepped forward just enough to see the heated, bruised, and battered men lying on the dirt path. Their faces were deeply colored with blue, purple, and red. What kind of king would do this?

Well, a Tyrant, Abijam. He corrected himself.

"You know what your problem is? It's because—"

"Save it, Armand! Where's Belle?" Henry snarled.

"Why does that matter now? Are you afraid? Are you haunted by the thought that Belle's cherished friend might come after you, seeking retribution for the damage you've caused them?" Armand ridiculed.

"You shut your mouth!"

Without warning, Henry lunged at Armand, driving Abijam to flinch instinctively. Once Abijam regained his composure, he saw Armand's face. Newly found blood leaked from Armand's lips.

Henry stepped back and walked to the carriage, leaving James and Abijam to quiver at his horrid actions.

"Clean them up, James! We're leaving France," Henry barked.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Abijam knelt beside Armand as James handed him a cloth. He gently pressed the soft material onto Armand's lips, wiping the remaining blood blotches.

"Th-thank you—" Armand spoke but could only choke. Sprays of blood shot out from his lips.

"Don't mention it," Abijam comforted.

Abijam's fingers grazed Armand's cheek, only to be welcomed by a forceful tug pulling him back. His vision became vague as an invisible force yanked his head back at an abnormal speed. His muscles compressed as he battled, but to no avail.

The force surged with an unyielding power. Abijam's heart raced wildly, a frantic drum in his chest, yet it steadied the moment his gaze locked onto a man looming in the shadows.

Henry.

Abijam's eyes dilated. Two firm hands slowly and desperately peeled his eyelids further apart, almost manipulating his view. "Where am I?"

"Abijam!" He heard his father's voice. "Come out of it!"

"What kind of trick are you getting at?" Henry's enraged voice boomed in Abijam's ears.

Abijam's thoughts swarmed like a tidal wave, slamming into its next target. Unbeknownst to him, the potent smell of saltwater mixed with rum immediately hit his senses. Not this, please, don't take me back to this. Anything but this!

As he swayed deeper into the vision, he noticed a youthful siren with long, oily black hair and dark, fiery autumn-red highlights glistening in the sunlight. She perched upon a rock when the catastrophe—the rum—struck.

Arieshell.

In the distance, a ship approached ever so slightly, or so he perceived. The flag swayed with the sultry breeze as the sun kissed the golden hues cascading into the ocean's core. He recounted how the rum merged with the aquatic landscape and how dozens of barrels descended with a loud splash.

It all started with a single barrel of rum crashing upon the rock near Arieshell.

The hollow winds echoed within Abijam's vision. The waves became reckless once Arieshell plunged her body beneath them. His chest heaved as her fin glided toward the ship's bow. Arieshell, don't!

The saccharine lullaby grated on his nerves, its cloying sweetness a mockery of his simmering rage. He knew hollering for her would only make their species' presence known.

The blue sky became scarce as murky clouds loomed over the water, closing the final gap of sunlight. Rumbling reverberated in the distance, and a flashing light overwhelmed his view. Abijam ducked. His body merged into the water, gulping a drop of the ocean.

What's happening?

The scene continued, which seemed like an eternity to Abijam. After he regained his thoughts, Arieshell's siren song ceased.

"Arieshell!" he finally called out. "Where are you?"

There was no response.

"Arieshell! Speak to me!"

He felt a delicate poke on the back of his shoulder. Knowing it was her, he forced his body to face his sister. Her eyes met his. Tears flooded his cheeks as the horrific realization dawned on him.

Arieshell, his younger sister, the Goddess of the Sea, lost her ability to speak.

"Oh, my dear sister. I'm so sorry." he wrapped her in his arms, not wanting to let her go. "I should have been beside you."

His head shot up as malevolent laughter caught his attention. Just beyond the damaged crates and broken bottles floating in the water, he locked eyes with the enigmatic figure, a man cloaked in sleek, opulent attire that gleamed under the faint light, evoking a rage in Abijam's veins.

"You'll pay for this!" he bellowed out. "You hear me? You'll pay for this!"

The man, Henry, muttered something under his breath, only to chuckle, mocking Abijam's threat.

"Abijam?"

He heard James's meek voice summoning him. Before long, his consciousness slipped into his body as he mustered. "Sorry, I-I don't know what transpired."

"It's alright! You're probably tired," James comforted.

"Yes," affirmed Ambudhi. "He's exhausted and needs to rest. Come along now."

After a few minutes of processing, Abijam unraveled what had happened—why a simple touch on Armand had pulled him deep into that vivid memory. The realization stirred a whirlwind of emotions within him, blending curiosity and intrigue.

Creases formed on his forehead as the thought strained him. He pondered only for one last time as he investigated. As the sun's rays cast shadows on the natural topography. Abjiam scrutinized the beautiful shades of yellow, pink, and orange painted on the horizon.

As he walked along the dirt path, Abijam noticed Armand sitting on a bench, hunched over with his arms cradling his head. A surge of regret washed over Abijam's face.

"Hey!" he greeted. "May I take a seat?"

Armand remained in his position, ignoring his query. Abijam's body slumped aside from him, as a hollow pit emerged from the deepest shadows in his chest. The flustered circumstances caused Abijam to latch onto his chest, insisting on being released.

"That girl..." Armand spoke, his voice cracked. "In the vision. Was that Arieshell?"

"Yes," he perked up. "Have you seen her?"

Abijam's lips became dry. Of course, he already knew Arieshell's location, but a whisper of a voice inside him hungered for more information. He must acquire an understanding of where he must put his priorities.

"Yes! She was with a group. Who are acquaintances of mine. She insisted on a rescue mission to save me and my good friend, Lou."

Abijam clicked his tongue, soaking in the information. "I must apologize for what happened."

Armand laughed out loud. "About my uncle or the circumstances of what had occurred when you were addressing my wounds?"

"Has he... has he always been so..."

"Horrifying? Yes, he's never one for change. Uncle always despised change, but a part of me understands."

Abijam's head bobbed. "Father never did either."

"So why was I able to see your memory? I realized the man was my uncle. You and Arieshell were there but..." he paused. "Are you... Are you sirens?"

Taken aback, Abijam assessed the man sitting with him. He reflected for a moment, wishing for the appropriate words to articulate. Come on, Abijam. Say something, at least.

"Your secret is safe with me," Armand placed his palm on his shoulder, reassuringly. "Although, I understand if you don't trust me. After all, look what happened."

Abjiam took a needed breath, and his shoulders eased, emitting all his hidden tension. During the time since he received word of his sister's disappearance, he had never experienced so many events in such a brief period. His fins had turned to feet, and he witnessed Henry's cruel punishments, questioning his father's motives and then the vision of Arieshell.

"Thank you for your time. I need to discuss business with my father."

Walking away from Armand, Abijam muttered, "I have to contact Harmony again."