My first experience with the human world happened within my own. For a long time, I was just like the others, never daring to see the surface. The idea hadn't even crossed my mind. But I was often getting myself into trouble.

 I can see in retrospect just how much of a menace I was. But I should say that it wasn't my nature to annoy. I was only chasing the undertow. Chasing down the feeling of excitement that I lacked from my pampered life as a princess.

 I was the master of creating games that my sisters would take the fall for. I remembered once daring Aquata to race to the drop-off. She was always the most eager to accept my dares, being the most athletic of us.

 Arista counted the time in crab clacks once we propulsed. We shot past our garden and through neighboring crowds, making two currents in our trail. The city was illuminated by special fungi and plants; natural lights everywhere. Beauty everywhere.

 The barrier walls were built with irregular archways. Passing through one, led to a smaller hole fixed at the top of the wall. Pass through that, and the next may be fixed more on the right. The perfect obstacles.

 She zoomed ahead of me, forcing bubbles in my face. I used a trick I learned from the pistol shrimp. I stretched forward my arms, taking aim. I fixed my hands to make the same form as the shrimp’s claw. With one quick chop, the string of water shot forth. Stunning my sister in the backside. I glided past.

 “Hey! No fair!”

 I giggled, leaving her behind. Being the youngest doesn't mean anything when you have twice the ingenuity of your older siblings.

 I was leading for a while as we made our way out of the Atlantican community. She soon caught up. We were neck and neck. The drop-off was getting closer. We dodged through high stalks of kelp.

 That was when I got caught in a tangle. The kelp wrapped around my tail. I could see Aquata’s shadow pushing ahead of me. “Ugh! No!”

 I wriggled until I broke free. By the time I made it to the finish, Aquata had beat me. A complacent smirk on her face.

 “You’re just lucky I fell behind in the kelp.”

 “Sounds like a sore sport. Admit it, Ariel. I'm the best.”

 I admitted nothing. My displeasure had me believing this couldn't be the end of the game. Out of habit, my eyes started scanning out into the open ocean. There was but a blur in the distance that I could see. I squinted hard. There it was, lining the other plateau. The gigantic structure of cages stacked on cages: Prisoner Passing.

 “Aquata. You want to see something amazing?”

 Aquata tracked my gaze. “No. Don't even think about it.”

 “Too late. Already have.” I moved forward.

 Aquata grabbed my shoulders, “That’s enough, Ariel. The game is over.”

 I shook her off. “I started this game. I say when it ends.”

 She crossed her arms, “Then I'm not playing.”

 She thought that would stop me. And it should have. But I had to know what was on the other side. To her shock, I swam across.

 I made it over, tuning out her shouts and efforts the convince me to turn around. The cage stack reached a mile high and the same wide. The inmates there reached out their hands at my tail, calling to me. Pleading that I change my Father's mind on their fates. This was surely no place for a princess to be.

 The iron bars were covered in rust. The magic that keeps it uncorroded clearly didn't exist here. I loomed on past the silhouettes of forgotten mermen.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

 Then I heard a “Who’s there? The shadow of a guard and swordfish came into view. I swam downward to not be seen. Down into the darkness.

  The gaurd came over. His chest plated in silver armor, and arms bearing cuffs as part of the uniform. He missed me, looking around in suspicion. I could not be caught today. Not again. Father would be furious. He would never let me outside the castle again. The gaurd swam away.

 "You, pike— what is your name?" A low whisper called to me.

 At the sound, I sank further into the abysmal trench below the cages. But I knew whoever it was could still see me. My poppy-red hair is hard to miss.

 "Tell me your name."

 I slowly swam upward, keeping far from him. I saw the form of a man hunched over. "Ariel. Don't tell the guards I'm here."

 He chuckled, "I have more pressing matters upon me than getting a young mermaid caught." He signaled for me to come near.

 I floated hesitantly toward the rusted iron bars.

 His swollen eyes studied my face. "I can see the green of your eyes, Ariel."

 "My eyes are blue, sir."

 "But they are green due to displeasure. There is something you want, isn't there? Even though you don't know what it is."

 I shook my head, "I don't know what you speak of."

 "You do, Ariel. You do."

 I frowned, "Father won't like me to be here."

 "Then why are you here?"

 I couldn't see the point of his question, "I'm in hiding. Do you not know my reputation around here? I am the troublesome princess."

 He chuckled again, "No, you're not troublesome. Just bored, is all." He leaned closer to the bars. A shade fell over his eyes, framing his hooked nose. He fidgeted with his fingers eagerly, "If you could ask for one thing, what would it be?"

 I thought about it for seven seconds at least, "Something new, I suppose."

 The merman nodded, "Something new." He let out a peaceful breath through his hairy nose and... fell asleep?

 Unsure what sort of conversation that was, I decided to leave. The cages rattled as more mermen cried to me. I could here the gaurds censuring them to stop as I swam over to the other side. I came back to the castle and retreated to my crystal chamber.

 My sisters pryed on about what I saw. Attina waisted no time in lecturing me about the way a princess should behave.

 I suffered it for a while before going to sleep in my oyster bed. I tried to forget about the merman in the cage. But his answer echoed in my head all that night. Something in its open-endedness left me eager to speak to the merman again. So the very next night, I snuck out to the royal stack of cages.

 Eventually, I found the quizzical old merman. I asked him what he meant by "something new". And he told me.

 Scuttle was unlike the other prisoners. He was not a barbarian or a lower-class thief locked in for a petty crime. The reason wherefore he was caged was that he'd been to the surface. From behind his rusted cell, he imparted secrets of the world above. And every night I consumed them dietarily. His stories of people who beat the soles of their feet on the ground to the sound of music, breathed air, or could cry and spit without it being washed away, kept me on my best behavior. It kept me free from boredom.

 I miss who I was before the stories finished being told. I miss the ignorance. When stories was all they were.

 When Scuttle was finally sentenced to death, I mourned him in silence. The only one I could tell was Flounder. My heart was broken. Scuttle had been the only one who truly understood me. I yearned for the stories. Stories he would never tell again.

 So I made up my mind to make stories of my own. I went to the surface. I collected the treasures Scuttle had told me about, feeling a thrill each time the objects matched how he'd described them.

 Then one day, a very large human thing moved overhead during the roughest billows and stormiest weather. The Royal ship was jostled madly by the coming waves.

 I swam up and crawled to my special rock to watch. Lightning struck down on the main mast throwing the ship out of order. Rain poured, creating more chaos in the sea. Winds blew at high speed. It was all a perfect mixture of turbulence and shock. Terror raining down on men— would make for a fine show for King Poseidon.

 I heard a strong voice cutting through the storm. It was a string of commands. I peered from my rock for the one giving the commands. There he was, holding onto the ratline. Dark, handsome hair, dripping in the rain. He raised in his hand what Scuttle had dubbed a "snarfblat". His old companion, Sir Grimsby yelled at Prince Eric to come down and get in the cock boat for his safety. The men were are direly concerned, but not my Eric. He laughed at the danger and happily played his flute with one hand.

 But the storm would not be mocked. Another bolt aided in breaking the ropes. He was dropped into the sea.

 I felt a strong conviction. Would I let this human die? "One less monster to care about" many would say. But I loved the things humans would create, and I never could understand how the makers of such wonderful things could be bad. Perhaps all of the collecting I'd done was out of admiration for not just the objects but the humans themselves. Perhaps I'd wanted to be one.

 Either way, I knew that a life was a life. And his was fading under the water. Without another second to waist, I dove...