Hello all! It has been a hot minute since I've touched this story, and that's totally on me. I started a new fanfiction project for Star Wars and honestly I didn't expect it to consume my every waking moment, yet here we are. But! We can thank the fact that for the past two days my WiFi has been out, so I had nothing else to do but work on this fic finally!

Boy oh boy do we got a chapter for you today! This came to a total of 21 pages in Word, which is really frickin awesome but also like scary? Welcome to castle life! Anyone really nostalgic for Below Surface?

And as a final note, please be safe out there! I know the world is crazy and things are super scary, but remember we are nothing if not resilient, and we will survive. Stay indoors if possible, wash your hands, take care of yourself, don't let fear rule your life. Love you all, and as always, remember, review!

Shirayuki woke with a gasp and a ripple of pain that had her rolling onto her side. For a terrifying moment, she held her hand up close to her mouth, praying she wouldn't vomit.

Thankfully, the nausea passed, though the pain stayed. Her head spun and she took a few deep breaths. She wished she could breathe with gills, easier than the intake of air she had to swallow.

What woke her?

She looked around. She knew she was in Zen's office – in the palace of Wisteria. Her stomach churned again, this time only in faint disgust. Old revulsion, old hatred. She sighed and slowly pushed herself backwards and up, leaning on the couch's arm to help bolster her. She pulled the blanket closer against her chest.

The door handle jiggled, and fear jolted through Shirayuki. She looked at the door in worry as the handle jiggled. The room was so cascaded in moonlight, it might as well have been a different day. The bronze handle moved left, then right again with a soft knocking noise. Someone was unlocking the door.

Shirayuki got to her feet. She bit her lip to hold back the moan, her back aching softly and slowly. Carefully, she stepped with bare feet backwards towards the wall.

Her dreams had been full of Xerturts clawing mers' throats open, of half formed humans screaming as they pulled themselves up onto blood red beaches, of an ocean stained with red, of a mermaid with hair the color of a sunset crying bloody tears. And the fear and confusion was still pushing in on her.

She gasped slightly as her heart skipped a beat – she couldn't let herself have a panic attack, not now. Her hand touched a thick, heavy curtain, and she whirled. Just as the door unlocked with a final click, Shirayuki pushed through the curtain and let it fall shut behind her.

In this side of the office, it was quiet, and warmer. She took a steadying breath, relieved that her chest was already cooling. It smelled like dust, but also of a familiar presence.

Zen's even breath was the only sound in the room. He snored very gently, and Shirayuki turned to try and make out his figure.

Unlike the office, Zen's bedroom had one taller, thinner window. It faced the sun, not the moon, so the room was much darker. But she could just faintly make out his silhouette, the soft lift of his shoulder rising up and down.

She flinched – though the curtain muffled the sound, she could hear the door had just been opened. Her heart skipped again and her back ached, so she shuffled silently over to Zen's bedside. The far side of the bed – she wasn't sure what she was planning to do. Duck and hide? It sounded appealing, she couldn't lie. She looked around, wanting her knife to be in the air with them. She hadn't seen it since being stabbed, however.

She jumped slightly, then bit her lip in complaint at the pain rushing through her back. Kiki had helped her to the bathroom, and bandaged her wound earlier, but it felt achy and too sore.

Zen, in his sleep, rolled and faced her. His features were lost in the dark, but his hand reached out over the blankets. Softly, his knuckles just barely touched against the soft fabric of her nightgown – the one Gladys had given her.

"Zen." Shirayuki whispered.

He murmured in his sleep but did not say a word.

The door slammed shut and she bit back on a yelp. Fear made her blood run cold in her veins. She let her hand fall and grasp Zen's fingers.

The Prince's eyes opened. Not all the way, little slits of blue in a black world, but he looked at her. "C'mere." He mumbled.

Shirayuki blinked, but his fingers tightened their grip on hers and he tugged lightly.

Blushing furiously, Shirayuki bit her lip as she carefully lifted her legs onto the bed. Her back groaned, even though the mattress sunk under her weight with the most gentle of caresses. She lied back, a few strands of her hair shifting to cover her face. She lied, facing Zen.

He pulled their intertwined hands up, and tucked hers neatly under his chin. He blinked at her sleepily. "S'okay." He murmured.

She nodded. "Yes."

He hummed and closed his eyes, snoring in a matter of seconds.

Shirayuki pulled the blanket up around her. The bed smelled like Zen. His breath, warm and wet, brushed repeatedly over her knuckles.

The fear subsided. Even while listening to the intruder mess around in the opposite room, her heartbeat slowed. It sounded strange – a low brushing, the sound of a pillow being fluffed, of books being touched but not moved. The intruder made no move to even touch the heavy curtain, and after a while the pain in her back faded, and the last of the worry melted with another one of Zen's breaths.

Zen woke, feeling fitful and rested, to the gentle burn of sunlight. He cracked his eyes open, feeling them crusted shut. His blanket was half tumbled over him, and he was holding on tight to something a little harder than the thick duvet. The sun from his window lay across him like a whole other blanket in itself, and it made it a little hard to keep his eyes open.

He groaned and rubbed his face with his free hand. He let his gaze travel down his bare torso to his arm, where his hand was intertwined with another's. Not tightly, and the thin, callused fingers were familiar. He lifted his gaze, not too surprised to see Shirayuki's sleeping face mere inches from his. Her breath just barely brushed his bare shoulder, her free hand touching his bicep.

She was stunning to watch in her wakeful hours, but there was something different about how she slept. Her red hair glowed under the morning sun, her lips slightly parted as she breathed. She had a sort of graceful, otherworldly air, that Zen supposed came with her belonging to the Below Surface.

He pursed his lips. I'll get you home, soon. He didn't know why he promised it to her silently, or why he squeezed her hand when he did, but she stirred.

She shifted her head, moving her neck around to a better resting position against the bottom of the pillow. She grunted slightly, before sighing as wakefulness slowly grabbed her.

Zen watched her eyelids twitch, until finally the deep pools of emerald green met his gaze. Softer from sleep, slowly recognition and then relief rushed through her. She sighed again, her breath brushing over his chin.

He grimaced teasingly. "Morning breath."

She tried to pull her hand up to presumably cover her mouth, then noticed their hands. She scowled, but rested her hand back in his palm before he could even let go.

"Are you alright?"

"Hurts." She murmured. "In my back. But nothing new."

"I'm sorry you're not recovering as quickly as you'd like." He mumbled. He glanced down and realized she was the reason he had only a twisted belt of the blanket, most of it rested over her. He shifted on his side to face her, sliding upwards a little to avoid the glare of the warm sun. "I can sing to you, if you want."

Her lips screwed, but she inhaled slowly. "Fine. Just not the Siren version."

Zen grinned, and took a breath in. His voice was raspy and shaky from lack of use, but it slowly warmed as he let the familiar words rush out from him. He tried to channel his usual magic, tried to sing along to the hymns he had heard Shirayuki hum over their friend currently leagues below the surface, Kihal. He desperately tried to keep the morning in the caravan out of his head. He tried to keep his tone as neutral as one could when singing with the magic of the Sea.

Shirayuki shifted as he sung, sighing in relief. She closed her eyes and a small smile pulled on her lips. She hummed a little for a few phrases, but let his voice be the only one weaving through the morning air. Her skin seemed to glow brighter against the sun, her grip soft against his but refusing to let go.

When Zen finished, she sighed in relief. "Thank you." She murmured.

He nodded. "Why are you in my bed, by the way? Not that it's unwelcome."

She scoffed. "Someone came into your room in the middle of the night. I didn't know where else to go, and you invited me."

He grunted and lied back on his back. "I don't remember that. As for the intruder, she was probably just a late night maid that hadn't been alerted to me being back in the castle." At the words, Zen groaned. "Ugh, that reminds me – today I'm supposed to reveal myself again."

Shirayuki sat up, pushing her hair over her shoulder and releasing his hand. "Sounds fun."

"Hardly." He put his hands behind his head, reluctant to leave the pool of warmth that was the bed.

"Have you got your story straight yet?"

Zen had to take a minute to respond. Shirayuki looked back over her shoulder to ask the question, and her gown had fallen slightly off of her shoulder. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen her bare shoulders, and he was not a hungry twelve year old wanting any bare glance of skin. But there was something about the way her skin glowed under the sun, the body hairs a gentle halo. It looked incredibly soft, and Zen had to hold his hand down from wanting to touch it.

He was desperate to keep the hard ground of friendship they had finally formed stable, especially now that he was home in her enemy territory. He would not rock the foundation.

"Sort of." He finally blurted. He shook his head and scrubbed at his eyes again. "'I got lost' is a little weak."

She laughed, a soft melody that in his mind was so much more worthy of being a song than what he had just sung. "Well, maybe I can help with that."

They had just finished writing the official report for Izana when Mitsuhide and Kiki knocked before coming in.

Kiki carried a tray full of steaming breakfast goodies, and Mitsuhide held a report in his hand. He stopped in surprise.

Zen sat behind his desk, Shirayuki at his side on a stool. A stack of papers, freshly signed, sat in front of them. "Well, look who actually decided to show up." Zen grunted. "You guys are late."

"We figured you'd be sleeping in." Mitsuhide argued, while Kiki shoved past him to place the tray down on Zen's desk. "And we made the report for you."

"Oh." Shirayuki and Zen exchanged looks. Zen shoved at the pile of paper on his desk. "Well, this will be interesting. Did we come up with the same story?"

Mitsuhide groaned, but sat down in the two chairs facing Zen's desk and grabbed the pile.

Zen pulled the plate towards Shirayuki and him in its stead, casting a thankful look to Kiki. "Good timing, I'm starving."

He unraveled the utensils and handed them to Shirayuki.

Kiki turned to greet Shirayuki. "Shirayuki, how is your wound? Did you sleep alright?"

Shirayuki nodded. "My wound feels good – or as good as it can be. And yes, fine, thank you." She decided to not bring up having to share the bed with Zen. Instead, she pulled a side plate to her and nibbled on the eggs. "What's that?" She asked, pointing to a pile of what smelled like bread, only it was burned.

"Toast." Zen answered around a mouthful. He pushed a piece to her. "Try some."

She took a tentative bite, and blinked. "It's crunchy. And moist?"

Kiki smiled softly. "That's the butter."

"Do you like it?" Zen asked after swallowing.

Shirayuki nodded. "It's alright."

Mitsuhide put the report down with a sigh. "Well, besides you saying that you encountered a lost family that needed help, we had sort of the same idea."

"Do you think it'll work?"

Mitsuhide shrugged. "It doesn't have to go public. And Izana's never been one to question anything more than he has to."

"What a vote of confidence." Zen rolled his eyes. "I did not miss the political world." He sighed, and smiled at Shirayuki. "Today, Shirayuki, I want you to go check out our greenhouse."

Shirayuki swallowed a bite of toast and blinked. "Greenhouse?" She repeated. "What's a greenhouse?"

Kiki stepped in. "It's a climate controlled environment where we grow herbs consistently, year round."

Shirayuki's eyes lightened and she felt herself almost lean forward with interest. "Growing herbs year round? We have something like that Below Surface! Zen, do you remember the garden?"

Zen smiled. "This is a little different than that. The weather in there never changes and nothing can touch the herbs."

Shirayuki made a face at Zen. "Zen, may I remind you?" She lifted her hand, and in the teapot, the liquid swirled rapidly. The pot clattered as it spun a full circle thanks to the water pushing it to lean on its rim. Kiki's eyebrows raised, and Mitsuhide's jaw dropped. "We have magic. Nothing touches our herbs because of the yellow pearls we crush."

Zen put his hands up, grabbing the tea cup by the handle and pouring himself a small glass. "How could I ever forget." He met Shirayuki's eyes – and again, like this morning. Shirayuki felt this strange fluttering in her chest, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was warm, and soft, She shivered softly and tore her gaze away, meeting instead Kiki's expectant and teasing one.

Suddenly embarrassed, Shirayuki turned and brushed a loose strand of hair off her neck. She had tied her hair as far up as it could go today, though she was quickly regretting the idea – it was heavy and brushed annoyingly at the back of her bare arms. She gave herself another twenty minutes before she took it down and braided it again.

"And you, Zen?" Kiki asked, thankfully changing the topic. "You have to report to Izana. Then you have to reveal yourself to the castle again, which will be fun." She clipped the word, inclining her head with a small frown. "And then?"

"I'm going to do some research." Zen said vaguely. He took a minute, then pushed the breakfast tray towards Shirayuki and put his elbows on his desk, leaning his head into his intertwined hands. "I'm going to try and find some more records of the Bergatt household. I'm also going to be looking for some, uh-" He hesitated, glancing at Shirayuki.

She tilted her head at him. What?

He cleared his throat. "I wanna try and see if we have any records of this Atlantean war. The damage – all I've heard of it….I mean, we created a new species thanks to this war, I find it hard to believe we've all just forgotten that easily."

Kiki shrugged. "When people erase history, they do it thoroughly."

"Not thoroughly enough." Shirayuki interjected, taking her time to sound out the word thoroughly. "Not a mer exists that doesn't know the stories. It's engraved on every single record we have – and again." She nodded to Zen, quoting him; "'An entire species'." Curiosity peaked, she looked at Zen. "Why do you want to research the war? We know all we need to, don't we?" She tried to keep the challenge out of her voice. Really, she tried. It was so hard to just forgive and forget. Sure, she didn't hate humans anymore, but she couldn't look at the Clarines flag without a bitter taste in the back of her mouth.

Zen noticed, and he bit his cheek. He looked hurt, and Shirayuki wanted to get stabbed again before seeing that expression on him. But he pushed past it and said instead; "If we know the records of the Atlantean War, maybe we can find out how Bergatt's knew."

"Is it his whole family, or just Lord Touka?" Mitsuhide offered, shuffling forward in his chair with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't know. Touka is the head, and he was the one who enslaved Revo. Could mean his family is innocent and unknowing, could mean otherwise." Zen shrugged. "But we need to find out. As soon as I'm free to go, we're going up there."

Kiki snorted. "Good luck with that. You know Izana is going to be hovering over you like a hawk from now on. You're last expedition was such a grandiose failure if you're allowed to leave the castle in a year I'll be surprised."

Shirayuki bit her lip. "I can't stay here for an entire year." She murmured softly.

Zen covered her hand with his just as Kiki opened her mouth to say something; "You won't." Zen promised. "I'll get you home just as soon as possible."

Kiki nodded. "We'll all take you back."

"Izana's not impossible to work around, and he's not cruel either." Kiki nodded.

Zen smiled at her, and Shirayuki had to smile back. "Okay." Before she could get too caught up in noticing the strange patterns in Zen's pupils, she smiled at the two knights sitting before them as well. "Thank you."

"Which reminds me!" Mitsuhide suddenly jumped. "Zen, what do we tell Izana about Shirayuki?"

Zen smiled. He squeezed her palm, and sat up straight. "We tell him that a new Herbalist has entered the court."

Shirayuki blinked, and looked at Zen. "Zen, you know that I don't actually know any of the land herbs up here, right?"

Zen nodded and nodded to the bookcases around him. "Another reason I need you to go to the greenhouse tonight. You have to get studying if you want to pass your exam." He winked at her, and Shirayuki felt her cheeks warm.

"An exam? You're going to quiz me on-on Above Surface herbology?"

His teasing smile faded a little. "Only if you want to. I know you miss your healing, so I think will help tide you over in the meantime." He winced. "Excuse the pun."

Mitsuhide chortled.

"I think it's a good idea, Shirayuki. We'll all feel better if Zen had someone who could heal by his side." She cast Zen a dark look.

Zen had the graces to look offended, at least. "Hey, I'm usually very cautious."

Mitsuhide's lips sputtered together before he let out a loud "HA!" Which made even Shirayuki grin.

Shirayuki rubbed her hands together. "That sounds amazing." She couldn't help but smile. "It'd…it'd be great." She looked to Zen again. "But I think I should be helping you with this case. There's a reason we were both sent back to land."

"Yes, yes." Zen nodded, holding his hand up in apology. "But there are places and things I can do that you just can't because of…" He paused, then sighed, "my status. I don't want you to sit around bored all day, and I also want you to heal." He pointed at her midsection accusingly. "We can't travel until your better."

Shirayuki scowled. "Fine." She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She looked at the knights instead. "Can I see River today, as well?"

Kiki nodded. "That can be arranged." She stood. "If you feel up to it, then why don't we head to the Greenhouse now? We have a busy schedule today, and unfortunately I'm going to have to pass you off to our new head of healing department. I can't leave Zen unattended while he waltzes around the castle."

Shirayuki nodded. "Sure." She pushed her chair back with her arms.

Zen stood. "Can you walk alright?"

"It'll be fine." Shirayuki nodded. She accepted his open arms and leaned heavily on him as she got to her feet. She hissed as pain rippled through her back, but she knew it would have been a lot worse without Zen's hymn this morning. She barely noticed the exchange of hands on her arm – from Zen's to Kiki's, she was too busy counting her pulses and waiting for the pain to fade from straightening.

Then she smiled at Kiki. "Let's see this garden."

Walking through the castle in the daytime was far too intimidating for Shirayuki's likes. Especially because they had to keep pausing to give her lower back a break. It was a gorgeous place, of course. It seemed to go on endlessly, and Shirayuki admitted multiple times that she had lost her ways. Mostly everything was the same – the same banners and flags hanging in the walls, the same shaped windows and staircases lining each side of the corridors.

Every step she took, every time she passed a flag of Clarines, something in her writhed. She was standing in the castle where they probably planned the ancient war. As they walked, she felt like a war of her own was being waged in her mind. Kiki's sword moved slightly in its sheath at her waist, the emblem glaring at Shirayuki.

But then they reached the greenhouse. It stood at an impressive length, with see through walls and green shrubs lining the slightly distorted walls. Kiki unlocked the door, and as soon as the warmer air brushed over Shirayuki like a sigh, her inner turmoil cooled for just a moment.

In a trance, she stumbled into the house. All around her, every wall was lined with planets of all kinds. Colors and shapes she had never seen. There were bleachers of plants, lining upwards as if they would collectively reach the sky. The air smelled like soil and moisture, and Shirayuki spun in a slow circle. "Wow." She breathed.

Kiki smiled at her, closing the door. "It is quite impressive."

Shirayuki leaned over a plant with a strange red flower at its top. It smelled like something she had seen in the forest, and she appreciated it's yellow inners bobbing slightly. "How…how can all of this be so…" She shook her head. "I wish I knew what these were."

"I suppose that's where I come in." A new voice laughed.

Shirayuki whirled. She hadn't noticed the door opening again, as a women in a black skirt and purple shirt walked in. Her dirty blonde hair was curled over her shoulder, and a whit overcoat sat easily on her shoulders. She raised a hand in greeting, a yellow engraved tag hanging from her neck. "Hello." Shirayuki greeted.

"Shirayuki, this is our head pharmacist Garack. She's been working here for about four weeks now, but you'd be surprised how much she knows."

Shirayuki frowned. "Your name sounds so familiar."

Garack snorted and rubbed the back of her head. "Well, I have quite a claim to infamy around these parts." She exchanged an amused glance with Kiki. "I first came here with a story about how I saw the missing second Prince, but –"

"About that." Kiki interrupted sharply. "We-we have news. It'll be revealed later, though." The knight shook her head. "I was wondering if I could leave Shirayuki to you for the rest of the day. She's knowledgeable about aquatic herbology, and she wants to learn about more healing poultices."

"Oh, certainly. I'd be happy to show her. Are you interested in training for a position in the Palace, dear?"

"Uh," Shirayuki swallowed, "I-I don't know yet. I don't see why not." She tried for a smile. Her heart pounded in her throat. She took a deep breath, letting her fingers brush across a soft leaf for comfort. But then her finger strayed too far, and her skin tingled as it brushed something cold and hard.

Shirayuki felt a shiver of revulsion, and then a sharp, stabbing pain erupted in her finger. She yelped and grasped her hand, turning to see what poisonous point of a plant she had touched. But her eyes instead fell on the little garden shovel that had been stuck into the soil surrounding the plant. The dark coloring, and the way her finger steamed – iron. She could still be burned by iron.

"Shirayuki, are you okay?" Kiki grabbed her wrist, blinking in confusion.

Shirayuki sighed and examined her finger. No scales to turn gray, so her skin just looked a little redder. "Yes, I think I just…" She cast a look at Garack, who was approaching with a clinical glint in her eyes. "I think I just scraped myself. No worries."

Garack backed off with a slightly hesitant nod. "Alright, then – well, you've seen the greenhouse, come this way and I'll-"

"Oh-" Kiki put out her hand to halt Garack. "Shirayuki was stabbed in the back with a knife a few days ago. I've patched her up the best I can, but I would appreciate if you gave her a one over."

Shirayuki swallowed uncomfortably.

Garack's purple eyes were wide. "Stabbed? Oh my goodness, how recent was it?" The pharmacist rushed to Shirayuki's side, grabbing her arm and firmly but gently pushing her to the side to look at her back. She lifted her shirt, making Shirayuki yelp and try to pull away. She winced at the ripple of muscle movement, but thankfully Garack dropped the shirt. "Sorry, dear. I can't believe your on your feet without a cane or any –"

Kiki glanced at her watch. "I'll leave her to you." Kiki walked up and grabbed Shirayuki's hand. She squeezed it. "If you need us, don't hesitate to call."

"Okay." Shirayuki swallowed and breathed out slowly. "Thank you, Kiki."

Kiki dipped her head, and marched out of the greenhouse. Shirayuki watched her go.

Garack had her sit on a stool and take her shirt off. Shirayuki had flashbacks to telling her patients back Below Surface to do the same. Wincing slightly, she pulled the tunic off of her. Garack expertly unraveled the bandages around her middle.

"Who did this? They did well."

Shirayuki nodded. "Kiki rewrapped them last night before bed." She admitted.

Garack sucked in a breath when her skin was finally revealed.

"What?" Shirayuki resisted the urge to twist. The room they sat in was a neatly kept office. It held a thin cushioned table, two desks, and multiple cabinets. The window next to the main desk was open, and a cool autumn breeze made Shirayuki shiver.

"It's…I mean, it's fine." Garack grabbed two mirrors – one sitting on the desk, another a pocket mirror she held in her pocket. She gave Shirayuki the bigger one, and reflected her wound into it.

Shirayuki blinked, but then her mouth parted in a silent "oh".

In her head, she cursed Zen a thousand times over.

The muscles surrounding the wound were marked with slightly blue marks – easily could have been mistaken for bruising lines, if they weren't so perfectly swirled. The mark of a Siren. She was going to hold Zen under the Surface until he stopped thrashing. As for the actual point of impact, the stitches were holding tight and true, the thread a thick blue.

"Well." Garack took the mirrors back. "I can give you some pain killers if you want. A low dose, just to help out with moving. And I don't understand how you're walking so well with it as low as it is. You're lucky that it didn't hit you in the spine."

Shirayuki blew out a hard breath in agreement. "It was a throwing knife from a retreating enemy." She told the Chief.

"Lucky shot."

She chuckled. She lifted her arms as Garack began to rewrap her middle. Her hands moved expertly.

"I like those tattoos, by the way. I've never seen ones that are white like that."

Shirayuki winced, but turned her arm to study the Moon's phasing. Thankfully it was so light out that there was no glow, but she had no idea how to explain the white color. "Yeah, thank you." She managed out.

Garack tied her bandages and stepped back, and Shirayuki hurriedly tossed her shirt over her head, pulling down the sleeves. She turned the stool, glancing at her finger. It still ached from the burn of the iron, and Shirayuki suddenly found herself once more stuck in the mental war in her mind.

She was safe, she was going to be alright.

She was on enemy territory. She didn't belong here.

Garack turned with a smile.

Before she could ask, Shirayuki asked instead; "What's that claim you mentioned about finding the missing second Prince?"

Garack blinked, then chuckled. "Well, it sounds quite insane."

"I've seen plenty of insane things in my time, trust me." Shirayuki laughed.

Garack leaned back on the chair. She sighed. "About four weeks ago, my partner and I were walking on the beach. We just moved from this small seaside town – I was the herbalist there." She smiled. "I learned a lot about the aquatic herbology there; is that how you learned?"

"Yes." Shirayuki nodded with a smile. "Same for me." Thank you. She resisted the urge to say the last thought aloud.

"Cool. But anyways, we literally just stumbled upon Prince Zen. He was lying face down in the sand, and he was terribly sick. Dehydrated, and cold, and sunburned to nearly a crisp. He had a crazy tale about being kidnapped by pirates, though he never could remember how he survived and escaped them. He was thrown overboard. I don't know if he just floated back to shore or what, but –" She shook her head and raised her arms. "Something wasn't right about him. He showed signs of heavy fever one day, poisoning the other, and then some days he'd be perfectly healthy. He also just…" Garack's fingers worked, grasping for the words. "He just kept going back to the ocean. He couldn't explain to us why, he knew it was a weird urge."

As she talked, Shirayuki bit her own lip. In the back of her mind, the gears clicked – she knew Garack's name because Zen had told her it, one night before bed back Below Surface. He had wanted to reward and thank the pharmacist for her help, and apologize for –

"Then one night, a storm hit. We were boarding the window shut, and he just….turned into something inhuman. He ripped the boards open with his bare hands. Can you believe that? A few hours before that, he couldn't even stand. But he ran off into the storm, and the last I saw of him through the rain and the hail, he was swimming out to sea. We tried to follow, or at least Yatsufusa did, but Zen swam too fast."

For that, yeah.

Shirayuki let out a small whistle. "Quite a tale." She agreed.

"I promise it's all true, though I'm very used to people at this point telling me I'm crazy."

The Chief laughed. "We wanted to take him back to the castle as soon as he was better. I didn't think traveling would do his health any good. But we ended up coming here after he left, and trying to explain our story to Izana. The Prince was absolutely amused, and I swore we were going to be executed on the spot."

Shirayuki tensed, testing her teeth. "He would do that? Execute you?"

Garack laughed. "Oh, good heavens! No, no, we have the most merciful Prince. Instead of even just tossing us out, he had us take some herbology tests. Next thing I know, we go back to our town only to pack our belongings. We've been working here ever since."

"Huh." Shirayuki scoffed. "Where I come from, that wouldn't happen. Only slaves work in the palace."

Garack made a twisted face. "How horrible. I'm glad you're here." Garack leaned forward and put a friendly hand on Shirayuki's knee. "Apparently, we're more educated about human kindness than wherever your from."

Shirayuki bristled, but forced her tongue to mold in a different way. "Yes." She managed.

Garack handed her a small bottle, filled to the brim with little white tablets. "These are some pain medications. I want you to take them once in the morning, once at night."

Shirayuki smiled. "Thank you." She clutched the bottle.

"Now, why don't I show you around the main offices?" Garack helped her stand, and helped escort Shirayuki out.

Zen thought the worst part of his day was the haircut. He had paid a visit to their royal barber, who saw him, cried, and then immediately snipped way the longer hair that dangled in front of his eyes. He felt practically bald, and he kept running his hand over the small buzz the barber left over his ear.

There were tears from most of everyone, and Zen appreciated all the hugs. It was almost suffocating – no, it was suffocating. But he had no choice. Guilt, heavy and thick, wormed through him like a dark shadow, and it was all he could do to keep swallowing it down and putting a brave and happy face on for his family.

Kiki joined him almost immediately after he had finished presented the report to Izana, and to his shock, received another hug, and since she and Mitsuhide tailed him as loyally as ever – as if nothing had changed. He can't say that word, he's decided. Change is a bad word, it made his mouth screw and something inside of him writhe.

He had finally finished his rounds, and made his way into the library. He thanked the librarian staff, he hugged them, and they all cried silently. It felt very strange, but after they have their moment he requested the access key to the private library.

Mitushide and Kiki can't follow him in here. The private library is hidden in a small door at the very back of the castle's library. No one can enter unless they're royal blood, and Zen used to come here to hide when he was very small and very sick of living in a castle.

The room was lowly lit, and it wasn't not terribly big. Most of the space held artifacts, old weapons, old crowns, walls full of paintings and portraits not made public.

Zen sighed and breathed in the slightly molded air. A tank full of water bubbled in one side of the room – only living occupants inside snails. Why on earth they had a snail tank in a secret library, Zen had no clue.

He walked through the hallways, frowning as he tried to think. He had been in this library countless times – through all of their books and histories. He liked to pretend sometimes that all of it was just some sort of cool story book, not his actual bloodline and heritage.

The book of the nearest bookcase held his favorite book, and with a small smile he had to stoop and pick out the Wistalia Legends novella. The paperback was cracked from overuse, its pages curled and dog eared,it's spine a mess of ripped paper. Zen ran his hand over the flat cover and sighed. The book entailed the start of the country – the story of one man who found a white flower. He believed the flower was magical and built his home around it, having a family and believing the flower would protect him. One day, robbers tried to break into the house, and he was thrown to the earth in front of the flower. The flower spoke to him, and he reached his hand into the soil, and pulled out a long sword he used to protect his family and slay the robbers. Afterwards, he returned the sword, and believing the land to be blessed, he built a castle and soon a country.

Zen frowned. There was something in these pages about the flower being a tear from the moon, which now that he had met the moon, didn't seem all that right.

He put the book back and sighed. He walked to the fish tank, for a lack of something else to do. "Atlantis." He said aloud, his voice echoing with a sigh. "Where would we hide that?"

He turned and surveyed the room.

Bookshelves that held nothing but wall behind them, a fish tank behind him. A wall of old swords and weapons, cracked from age and rusted over, some still stained with some nameless but important enemy's blood. No windows. A single couch, underneath that couch a chest holding nothing but…

Zen hesitated. He knelt by the couch and pulled the little chest out. It was an unassuming thing, dark brown wood with a steel framed screwed into place. It's lock was ancient and didn't work anymore, and Zen easily pried it open with his bare hands. He set the lock aside and opened the chest, though it creaked in protest.

Inside, just a single key sat. Zen sighed. He smiled wistfully as he grabbed the tiny, rusted thing. He had long ago found the key, and long ago found which book it unlocked. He turned to the shelf, standing and grabbing the old leather thing.

He sat on the ground with a sigh, brushing his fingers through his hair agitatedly. "You haven't changed." He muttered. Then winced. Nope, bad Zen. We do not say that word anymore.

The book in his lap wasn't as well loved as Legends had been. This one was tied tightly with a hard twine that hurt his fingers if he pushed on it too hard. Holding the knot in place was a small lock. Zen pressed the key in and twisted, watching as the twine unfurled in that oddly satisfying way.

He opened the cover, and held the book's pages in one hand. He bent them slightly, and flipped through each and every page.

Every single one was just as blank as the next.

Zen had once considered making this his private journal, when he was still small. He had a faint memory of crying into the empty pages. And sure enough – his tear stains still sat on the inside cover.

He finished the empty book and sighed. He bit his lip. "What am I supposed to do?"

The book, nor anything else in the room, answered.

He got to his feet again and stopped by the tank, holding the book in his arm.

He noticed a snail was sticking to the top cover, out of the water. He frowned. He knew nothing about snails, but he knew they usually didn't stick there. He lifted his hand, and the water in the tank stirred. Slowly, it reached up, surrounding the snail in a singular funnel.

The snail, being a snail, did not react.

But the glass did.

Zen was positive he hadn't moved any more water than he needed. He was sure he hadn't slammed the water into the tank.

But he jumped back as the front of the tank cracked with a loud splintering noise.

"No, no, no-" He put his hand out, but to no avail. Water spewed out of the crack, squirting out and all over him. He flung his hand out again and the water froze mid-stream, but not before it had soaked the book.

Zen groaned and stepped back. He looked over himself. The royal outfit wasn't ruined by any means, and he didn't know why he was reacting so poorly when he had literal magic to fix it.

But then he noticed the book.

In his left hand, the pages were glowing a very, very faint blue. So faint, Zen stared for a long minute, thinking he was just sitting spots in his eyes.

He flicked his hand, and the water retreated into the tank through the small glass crack. He closed his fist, and ice formed tight and heavy against the crack, creating a temporary plug.

He sat down, ignoring the wet carpet. His eyes were stuck on the leather of the book, on the pages within. He flung the book open to the first page, and for the first time in his life, blue letters greeted him.

He breathed the words aloud, needing to hear them to believe that they were truly there. "The Lost Civilization of Atlantis."

He scooted back until his back hit the wall. Below the title, signed words of a name he didn't recognize other than it's last. "A detailed record by King Julius Edgard the First."

Zen's mouth went very, very dry. He settled in deeper, absentmindedly flicking his hand over his clothing and sucking the water off of it. He let the water drop to the carpet as he turned the page.

"

Author's Note:

Dear Reader,

If you are to continue reading this volume, then you must know it. Were Clarines not ten decades younger, we were them. This book should not exist. This war should not exist. But it does. It happened. Now we lie in the consequences. I can only imagine the ruin this will bring to my beautiful country.

"

Zen stopped, eyes going unfocused. He pushed the book up against his forehead with a groan. He had a hard time catching his breath. "We were them." He repeated. He was no longer sure if he could continue to read this volume.

He looked up and continued on.

"

I loved Atlantis. My wife hails from the country, and because of this war I have lost even her. I have lost it all. You must understand, dear reader, that this text is of the utmost importance to me. It is my heart, and my soul, but it will never be my spirit. For that was killed when it was sent away to live in the Sea, without me.

In this collection, you will easily see the apologies between the lines. I only wish I could go back in time. Petition the Moon to roll backwards, for the world to spin the wrong way just once. I cannot fix this, but I will not forget this. I know they say we have to, I know they have voted and the people's desires overwhelm my own. I do not know what magic has befuddled their gazes, but as their servant, I must obey it as well. I write this text in secret, in the last bit of Sea magic in my blood.

For even now, as I write these words by candlelight, the bonfires blazing and burning away the history are bright enough and hot enough to scald my skin from inside the castle. There are laughter, and cheers, but I am grateful for them, as no one can hear my sobs.

"

Zen stopped again, taking a deep breath. He traced his hand over a thick droplet of blue on the pages. Was that his tear stain, from when he was a child, or was it the long forgotten tear of King Edward?

He finished the author's note.

"

I give this last work to the Atlantean world. To the Sea, and to my love. She has forgotten her legs for a tail, and I can only pray the wrath of the new species we forced into existence will forgive us. I fear for our sea wanderers, as the ocean is no longer the safe home we thought it was.

It will never be enough to say it, but, I'm sorry.

Sincerely,

King Julius Edgard the First.

"

Zen took a deep breath. He had no idea what King Edgard meant by belonging to the Sea, though it was clear he had loved a mer.

He turned the page, and found a phrase he couldn't decipher.

He blinked, and leaned in closer, but the words were slurred and smudged on the page. As a random thought, he lifted his hand and stole some water from the carpet. He carefully let a few drops fall, and the smudges slowly transformed into letters in beautiful cursive.

"For Amiala." He read aloud.

The room shifted and groaned, and Zen jumped to his feet. His hand went to a sword hilt he didn't have on him, and with a curse he pulled out a dagger hidden in his belt.

The snail cage trembled violently, then simply burst in half.

Zen yelped and threw his hands up, his only concern stopping the water from damaging the books and history in the room.

The water obediently froze for him, bumpy in its rush and imperfect in its wave.

For a tense moment, there was no noise. Zen strained to hold the water mid fall, mid rush. He lifted his hands, and the water lifted obediently away from gravity. He brought his hands together and the water formed into a large bubble. Zen surveyed the room for damages, but the only damage was to the poor snail tank. He saw why it had cracked, and almost dropped the water in surprise.

The wall had opened in a small door, pushing the tank in half. Broken glass covered the entrance, and beyond it lie a dark corridor. Zen could smell the must from here.

He took a breath, and tried to think.

He couldn't just leave the snails to dry out, but he had no place to hold the water. He needed to walk through the corridor, but he had no light. He had no idea how long the corridor would stay open. He had an ancient book in one hand that was finally revealing its contents to him after over two decades of waiting, and he had no idea what to do.

He wished Mitsuhide and Kiki were allowed inside. With a sigh, he turned his attention first to the water. He forced it into a square shape, then froze it solid. He let it settle on the carpet. If it leaked, he would fix it when he came back. He carefully set the tanks on their side, so the now dried and rapidly crisping plants wouldn't hang down. He couldn't find the snails, which alarmed him, but the corridor was calling to him too much to really wonder.

Cautiously, he stepped into the inky blackness. He put his hand to the wall for safety and stepped lightly.

He had made it about ten feet before he felt a bump on the wall. Feeling blindly, he felt an unlit torch. He blinked, and took it off the wall. He backtracked into the light of the library, found an old tinder box, and lit the top of the torch. A little braver now, he held his torch high, and stepped into the only part of the castle he didn't know.

He wandered for about thirty feet more before his light illuminated the first picture.

He stopped and held the light up closer, biting his lip.

They were hieroglyphs, in patterns and words he couldn't understand, but also didn't need to. He recognized the pictures. With a trembling hand, he touched the picture of a man throwing another man into the sea, of humans stabbing at fish – people with spears, and fire, and pain.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. His voice shimmered into the air, but the words just dissipated into the wall uselessly. He made a face. King Edgard was right. No apology will ever feel like enough.

Taking a deep breath, he marched on. The pictures line each and every inch of wall, and he kept waiting for them to be lighter or easier – he waited for the before the war comradery moments that Edgard mentioned.

It never happened. It was just violence and war, the whole travel down the tunnel.

Zen clutched the book close to him. He wanted to leave. Every inch of his body was screaming at him to run away, to hide and avert his gaze. With each pictured dead mer, he wished he never found the torch. He didn't want to see this gruesome scar in history. He felt the emblem of his beautiful country burn against his clothing.

But thankfully, the corridor ended, and Zen's torch light illuminated a small room – only a bit bigger than the secret library. Books lined one wall, weapons the other. The weapons reminded him a lot of Obi's spear. There were scales – a collection of small scales in a pile in a dusty glass case. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust, no one had been down here for many, many years.

Zen didn't even think the air was good enough to really breathe. He coughed slightly, but it didn't help. Curiosity and horror peaked, he cautiously crept to the back of the room. The orange glow gave everything a slightly demonic look, and he had to swallow past the lump in his throat multiple times. The back of the room was finally illuminated, and Zen's heart stopped.

Hanging in chains on the wall, was a skeleton.

It hung from its wrists in rusted over chains. It was clearly not human. While the arm bones held the same shape, the same rib cage, the same skull – they were thicker, and oddly colored. And the lower torso was a mess of structures Zen couldn't believe. They had two legs, yes, but the bones didn't look human. It looked almost as if the spine just branched into two and continued down the legs. There were finger bones where there should be toe, and they were long and lay flat on the ground. This creature…this was an Atlantean.

Zen noticed it still had bits of cloth around the torso and legs. They dangled off the skeleton uselessly.

The air wasn't unbreathable because of the thickness of the dust. It was thick with a lack of oxygen – the air was probably last stirred by this almost mer.

Zen blinked away tears and bit back a scream of horror. Instead, he knelt in front of the skeleton. His knees were shaking badly. He was shaking badly. "The horror of this…"

How many of his ancestors, his great grandparents – how many Wisteria's had walked through this castle, lived their lives and laughed, while this poor soul just rotted away in a part of the castle that isn't even that hidden. How many Wisteria's had known of this skeleton?

Zen took a small breath. It wasn't comforting. He touched the space just in front of the skeleton, wary of actually making contact. "May your soul find rest. I am…" He stops himself from saying sorry, the words just weren't good enough. "I will find a way to right this." He managed to squeak out.

He stood.

The skeleton's head was lolled to the side, and it looked so sad.

Zen, feeling like his robes and royal garment had never been heavier, bowed, and marched out of the corridor.

He stormed out of the library, ignoring the broken snail tank, ignoring the fact he was still holding an ignited torch in broad daylight, in a large library.

Mitsuhide and Kiki jumped up as he slammed the door shut behind him, waiting until it locked with a final click.

"Is that a torch?" Mitsuhide managed.

"What happened?" Kiki said at the same time, putting her book down from where she had been reading it.

"Here." Zen handed the torch to Mitsuhide. He marched past them, boots flying down the hallway. He barely even glanced at the confused librarian, who stopped Mitsuhide when she noticed the torch. Kiki jumped a few paces forward to keep up with the second Prince.

"Zen, what happened? Where are you going?"

"I need to see my brother." He grumbled. He basically ran through the castle, Kiki trailing behind, bewildered, and shrugging to the guards who noticed Zen's expression. Mitsuhide shouted something and rushed to keep up, the torch gone.

Zen powered himself up the steps, through the halls. He couldn't look any the flags. He couldn't look at the throne room. He couldn't even look at the courtyard. He got to his brother's door and it's only then that he took a large breath in, trying to compose himself. Or at least, regain some sort of semblance of composure.

Kiki grabbed his arm. "Zen, you can't go in there like this."

He faced her. "I have no choice. And…" He paused, and grabbed her arm. He pushed her back gently. "And you need to stay out here and wait." He gave a significant look to Mitsuhide, who just managed to catch up and his chest was heaving. Mitsuhide tilted his head and leaned back in surprise.

"Zen-"

"Trust me, guys." The Prince sighed and rubbed his face. "I'll explain everything in a minute. I just need to talk to my brother alone."

He turned around and pounded on the door. Hard. Hard enough to make Mitsuhide and Kiki wince.

If Izana ever sounded startled, it was at that moment. "Come in." Came his voice.

Zen flung open the door, meeting his brother's eerily similar blue eyes. Izana's gaze was wide with surprise, eyebrows up.

"Zen. I was just reading your report." Izana managed.

Zen slammed the door shut behind him and marched up to his brother's desk. "Did you know," he started, pushing his hands on his brother's desk, "that there is a body in the family library?"

Izana actually physically reacted – very rare, with Izana. He stood. "A body? How fresh?"

"Not fresh." Zen put his hand up to stop his brother. "It's just a skeleton at this point."

"Oh." Izana didn't look ready to sit. Instead, he put the report down. "Okay."

"Not okay!" Zen didn't mean to shout, really he didn't. But his voice echoed and he just wanted to crumple to the ground. "Izana, a body – that was a person! They were hung by their wrists! I used to play in that room!" He had to stop and take a breath, feeling his eyes sting. He looked away from his brother and stared at the desk. But even that filled him with revulsion.

"Zen…" Izana looked at a total loss for words. "We'll get our knights down there. We'll investigate it – whoever did this-"

"We did it!" Zen cried. Finally, he cried. Tears, hot and embarrassing, strolled down his cheeks. He let his knees buckle and knelt, putting his forehead against his brother's desk. "Our ancestors locked someone in the library and kept them their until they died." He murmured. "Not even the dungeon. A library."

Izana was still for a moment, then walked around the desk. He sat on the floor next to Zen, pulling his leg up. "Where did you find the body?"

Zen sighed. He rolled over, sitting on his butt and wiping his cheeks. "I would have to tell you the full truth for that. And you won't believe it."

Izana gave a smirk. "Try me."

Zen looked at the vaulted ceiling. Too high, too embedded with gold and riches he had once thought his country had fairly earned. Now, he doubted it all. "How much time do you have?"

Izana pursed his lips. "You know what?" He stood again, abruptly. "Let's go talk to mom. Tell her and me at her place. The palace can spare us."

"No, they can't." Zen gave his brother a look.

Izana grinned. "No, they can't. Up you get." He grunted as he reached down and pulled Zen to his feet. He readjusted his clothing for him, touching his hair approvingly.

Zen shook his head, pulling away from his brother's hands. "Okay."

And Zen had enough time to poke his head out the door and whisper to Mitsuhide and Kiki their plans, before the two brothers snuck through the secret tunnels to their mother's cabin.