"Vael of the Reef," he begins, his amplified voice a grave, heavy vibration that rattles through my teeth. "We have lived in peace for an entire generation. We have kept strictly to our bright boundaries. We have respected the dark of the deep."
He pauses, letting the heavy silence build like pressure in the water, pressing down on every gill.
"But the deep no longer respects us."
A terrified murmur runs rapidly through the large crowd, a wave of sound that crashes against the coral walls.
"Incursions have increased over the last week," Soryn yells, his voice rising to cut through the panic like a sharpened spear. "There have been unprovoked attacks on our outer kelp settlements. The monsters of the deep are moving upward. They are aggressive, erratic, and operating without logic. They are encroaching on our territory and threatening our peaceful way of life, using the Mourning Tide as their signal."
The accusation makes no sense. Encroaching? Kael's family stays in the lower trench. They despise the light. They ignore the reef. They hunt along our boundary wall for meat after The Mourning Tide, not conquest.
"We cannot wait here in the light to be devoured!" Soryn bellows to the crowd, his voice a roar of fury and fear. "We must strike first. We must secure the continental shelf. We must drive the monsters back down into the suffocating dark where they belong."
Angry, fearful cheers erupt from the gathered citizens, the sound a violent, churning wave of rage and terror.
"To accomplish this," Soryn says, raising a gauntleted hand for silence, "we need immediate strength. We need every able-bodied mer to take up a spear and defend the city walls."
He unrolls a heavy kelp scroll.
"The following citizens are hereby conscripted into the Reef Vanguard, effective immediately."
He begins reading names.
My mind detached from the panic around me, I listen. I know exactly how the military draft works. They will call the heavy laborers first. They will call the builders and the stone-shapers to form the rigid shield walls. They will call the mers with broad shoulders and protective scales.
Then, they will call the bait.
I may be an artisan in times of peace. I may wear expensive silk and play the part of the vain, decorative Vael for the high court. But the Council keeps detailed, ruthless records. They know I am a decorated Vanguard fighter. I have survived four brutal border skirmishes for one simple, agonizing reason. My color.
I am a Red Prince. I am the bright, bleeding target they paint on the dark water to keep the real soldiers alive.
"Taren Strom," Soryn calls loudly.
Taren emerges from the crowd, looking pale but rigidly resolved.
"Corin Krell. Oren Vane."
The long list of names goes on.
Then, Elder Soryn pauses. He looks down at the bottom of the heavy scroll, then looks out at the crowd. His cold eyes find my face instantly in the sea of panicked bodies.
"Vaelis Valerion," he says.
The surname rings out across the plaza like a descending gavel.
The crowd immediately surrounding me goes silent. People turn to look at me, their expressions a mix of deep pity and immense relief that it's not them. They part like a school of frightened fish, leaving me exposed in the center of the square.
I close my eyes for a fraction of a second, accepting the heavy, inevitable weight of the draft.
"Come forward to the Vanguard, Vaelis," Soryn commands.
I push through the panicked crowd, my spine rigid. The water parts for me. I stop at the base of the high dais, the stone cold beneath my bare feet.
"The front lines again, Elder?" I ask, my voice cutting through the plaza's tremor like a shard of glass. "I was hoping my restoration work might buy me a peaceful season."
Soryn looks down at me from the dais. His ancient eyes sweep over my long crimson hair, over the bright red fins that, even without the ceremonial pearl dust, catch the filtered light in a blazing, violent display. He sees a weapon. Not a mer.
"You are a Red Prince," Soryn says flatly, offering no apology. "The enemy inherently fears the color red. It is the universal color of highly toxic coral. We desperately need you on the front lines of the shelf to break their ranks."
