They swam swiftly from the depths of the deepest oceans, from cities lost and waters unknown. They swam through waste, through oil spills, through seas that once thrived with colour and life but were now laid barren. Death littered the seabed, floated around them. The sea itself felt heavy and claustrophobic; it made breathing hard.
This angered them.
They’d remained dormant too long. Left it to humans too long, hoping they’d change their ways and choose life – not just for themselves, but for their planet. For their lands and their seas, their skies and the beautiful and wonderful creatures that inhabited them.
They’d given them far too much credit. Humans always were, and remain, self indulgent, spoiled babes. No respect for the life of anything around them. Living short lives driven by vain impulses and the desire to be on top no matter the cost.
Now the people of the sea – merpeople, the humans called them – were intervening. But they weren’t like those in storybooks.
They were far less human. Some of them were pale, so pale their skin and eyes and hair were near translucent. These were the guardians, the ones who patrolled the waters, kept an eye on things above. These were the ones who alerted their people, their armies, further below that it was time. And so the others came, driven by an unrelenting desire to avenge their world. Angels of the ocean.
They were the stuff of nightmares.
Shades of red so dark they were nearly black, eyes like the very pits of hell. Teeth as sharp as jagged glass and claws to match, more than capable of tearing flesh from bones.
Ryn was one such “mermaid”, a Queen beneath the sea. She sent groups of her people to travel the oceans. They were to attack, commandeer and secure any ship, boat and sea vessel they found. To stir fear, and swear their oath.
Earth was dying, and they were done sitting idly by. Their message was clear:
“The choice is yours. Change your ways, take care of the problem… or we will.”