The List:
-Yssandra, Yordie, Ylaine
-Yestermoon
-Yellowtown
-Yeoman, yell, young, you, yet, yarrow, yellow, yank, yore, yearn
The Result:
"Yet You Are Young"
On and on the narwhal swam, dragging Yssandra with him.
Sometimes he would twist and roll, even going so far as to breach the surface
of the water in an attempt to shake off the net that bound them together, but
no matter how much he tried, all efforts failed. Finally, the creature slowed
as weariness overtook him. Yssandra took the opportunity to reach for the coral
blade that she carried tucked in her hair. Working swiftly, she used it to
slice the strands wrapped around her tail. The rough rope had bitten deep into
her scales. She would need to swim with her arms and rest before she could use
her tail properly again. As she freed her arm, bleeding from the wound
inflicted on her by the frightened human, the narwhal flinched, and the movement
yanked her head to one side. Her hair was still tangled in the net! She could
see the agitation building in the poor creature; Yssandra could see but one
option to gain the freedom they both yearned for. She reached up and hastily
sliced away at her long, silky hair. As the last bit released, the narwhal gave
one more angry thrash, and its tail smacked into Yssandra, sending her zipping
through the water. The wounds she sustained overwhelmed her senses, and her
vision faded into darkness, as the current pulled her along with itself.
Stiff dryness arrested her body’s movement as Yssandra
regained consciousness. She felt heavy, and breathless, as if she no longer
floated in water. Fighting to open her eyelids, she discovered that this was
indeed true: the current had washed her up onto a sandy beach, far away from
the kingdom she called home. She couldn’t breathe in the open air of the
surface, and the tide had just gone out. She would die before it returned again
to flood her gills with the breath she needed. Dark blood dribbled from more
than just her arm; she could feel the pain lancing through her side as well.
Just then, a jaunty, sustained shriek pierced her hearing.
Yssandra cringed as a furious grinding, thundering clatter assaulted her
tympani, but she could not resist. The clattering stopped, and so did the
musical shrieking.
“’allo?” called a voice. “Who goes there? Are you all
right?”
Yssandra couldn’t move; her dry gills crackled in the brisk
air. How badly she wanted to yell to this human, to petition him for help! But
the most she could manage was a weak flail of her good arm.
“Saints and deacons! It’s alive!”
She heard the scraping sound of the sand as the human dashed
toward her. “Hang on, hang on—My, aren’t you a beautiful creature!” the lean,
earnest face peering at her full of wonderment surveyed the scaled, tailed
woman with all the astonishment Yssandra had felt upon seeing a two-legged
human for the first time. They looked like mermaid-sized fairies, she thought.
The human crouched at her side, feeling the scales along her
shoulders with gentle fingers, and frowning at the feebly-pulsing gills on her
face.
“Is you a fish, or is you a woman?” he whispered. “You don’t
look much like the sort to breathe air.” He nodded. “It’s water you’ll be
needing, and then herbs for your wounds. Let me see…” He turned aside, and
Yssandra could hear a deep, thudding noise, then the wholesome, welcome
sloshing sound. The human raised a bucket in his arms, and when he tipped it
over, a cascade of water poured out over her body. Ylaine gasped when the water
struck her gills, and she gulped as much as she could for the gills lining her
throat. She pressed her lips over the mouthful of water. She could breathe for
a few minutes, with the water she’d saved.
The human dashed aside, returning with a handful of stalks
topped with small yellow blooms.
“’Tis yarrow,” he muttered to the poor victim. “It can
staunch the bleeding summat.” He tore the blossoms from their stems and pressed
them against the gaping wounds. Tearing strips of cloth from the hem of his own
tunic, the young human wrapped them around her arm and tied it around her
torso, holding the yarrow against the wounds. He gave her another piece,
saturated in water, to hold against her gills to keep them moist.
[…]
Yssandra sank gratefully into the pool as the human released
his grip. He watched her flail limply with one arm, careful to keep her wounded
arm and tail still and steady. Now that she was submerged, she could pay attention to his
voice.
“Well, Yordie—you’ve gotten yourself into a right old mess!
Who’d have thought mermaids were real, and that a simple yeoman could have the
care of one, right here in Yellowtown?” He stood up and glanced over his
shoulder. Yssandra came to the surface as he took a step back.
“You’ll be doing well enough in there, I reckon,” Yordie
declared. “I must be getting back to my home—“
Yssandra reached out of the water and placed a webbed hand
over his boot. Yordie shook his head. “I’ll be back again soon, if I can.
You’ll be needing food and whatnot. Beats me what a mermaid eats though!” He
rubbed the top of his head, just where the brim of his hat rubbed the skin.
“’Tis passing strange; all the tales I’ve heard of merfolk happened so long ago
in days of yore, I had always imagined them to be these haggard, ancient folk…”
He met her gaze. “And yet… you are so young, and—“ He ceased speaking as she
stared into his eyes.
Finally, Yordie shook himself. “I must be getting off—“
“Yssandra.” She spoke as clearly as she could, holding her mouth
underwater so she could enunciate.
Yordie turned back to her and blinked. “Wot’s ‘at?
Sandra—‘at’s yer name? A pleasure to meet ye, then! I am Yordie, a yeoman of
Yellowtown.” He plucked the hat off his head and gave a sweeping bow. “I shall
visit ye tomorrow, Sandra.”
Finally alone, as the night blanketed the world, Yssandra
tried to settle into the water, but it didn’t feel right without the moon
shining down through the surface. She closed her eyes and placed a hand over
the golden scallop shell hanging around her neck. How she missed her husband
Davor, and her little daughter, Ylaine! Was it only yestermoon that she had
cradled the merbaby in her arms, watching those round aquamarine eyes drink in
every detail of the world around her? Was it worth leaving her daughter, this
exploration trip that ended up taking her so far away from the world she once
knew, and the merfolk she loved? Yssandra relaxed and let the water suspend her
in slumber. She would need her strength for whatever awaited her on the morrow.
This story is the third tie-in for my novella "Princess of Undersea." Follow the hyperlinked text to find more tie-in stories, links to author and character interviews, and more!
Also in the A-to-Z Challenge Series: ( * Continuations of Suggestion Box installments)
-Letter I* ] [-Letter S*
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