Crown, Tail, and a New Bond

He pressed a check into my palm and patted my shoulder. “No hard feelings, alright?” He looked genuinely sorry.

I nodded, teary-eyed; maybe he didn’t want me to lose face.

He gave me a soft smile, the kind that says, "Sorry, kid, the world isn’t fair." I tried to smile back, but my eyes stung. Didn’t quite pull it off.

Maybe he was being kind, because after a long pause, he managed to say, “Even though you’re missing something from birth, at least you’re pure and good-hearted.”

It was the sort of compliment adults give when they don’t know what else to say. I wanted to believe him, but it felt hollow. Like a participation trophy.

That’s about as comforting as telling a kid they’re healthy when they’re flunking math.

Like, gee, thanks. I’m still failing, but at least I’m not sick.

He sent me back to the sea folk. When my parents heard, they didn’t look disappointed. “It’s alright, your dad and I have already decided—no matter what, we’ll take care of your funeral.”

Mom said it like she was talking about a birthday party, not the end of my life. Dad nodded solemnly, as if that settled things. That’s my family for you.

My already scrambled brain got even more tangled, and I stammered, asking what that meant. Like, seriously, what?

I couldn’t tell if I was supposed to be grateful or terrified. My voice shook as I asked, “Wait, what?”

“Kiddo, you’re human. Even if you won’t just live a hundred years like most, you definitely can’t live as long as us.” She said it gently, but the words still stung. I was the family goldfish in a pond full of koi—pretty, but not built to last.

Makes sense, but ouch!

I laughed, but it came out wrong. Sometimes the truth just hits you where it hurts. Right in the gut.

A few days after I got back, I realized my brother was missing.

The house felt too quiet, like someone had stolen all the noise. I checked his room, the backyard, even the old lifeguard stand by the dunes—nothing. Not a sign.

I asked the goldfish in the fountain and found out the sea and fire clans were having a marriage alliance, and my brother had actually run away from the wedding! Only in this family.

The goldfish was smarter than most people gave her credit for. She flicked her tail, bubbles rising, and spilled the whole story like it was the evening news. I just blinked, trying to keep up.

“Is the fire clan okay with that?”

“Probably, since their little prince ran off, too.” She shrugged her fins, like this was just another Tuesday. Nothing special.

I was stunned. “P-p-prince?”

The goldfish said, “Your Highness, why worry about gender differences?” She said it with a wink, as if the whole world was in on a joke I hadn’t heard yet. Typical.

I thought, right, that’s just how sea folk are. Makes sense.

Their world was full of surprises. Nothing ever seemed to faze them. Like, literally nothing.

So boring!

I want to slack off because I want to, but being forced to slack off—I hate it. It’s like being grounded for something you didn’t even do.

It’s one thing to choose to be lazy. It’s another to be told you can’t do anything else. That’s a whole different flavor of annoying.

All I can do is count pearls and coins every day, ugh!

I’d sit at the big oak table, stacks of coins and strings of pearls in front of me, the sunlight glinting off everything like a disco ball. It was mind-numbing. My brain felt like mush.

Clearly, I’m living the good life I once liked, but it just feels off!

I had everything I’d ever wanted, but it all felt like someone else’s dream. Like I’d wandered into the wrong movie.

Rare chance to be reborn, and I’m a total dud!

I could’ve been anything—a dolphin, a shark, even a sea turtle. Instead, I was just… me. Just plain old me.

I asked Mom, am I hopeless?

She looked at me over her glasses, knitting needles in hand, and didn’t even pause. “Of course not.” She didn’t even blink.

She said, “You’re our little princess. How could you be hopeless?” She ruffled my hair, like that settled it. Her voice was soft, but there was steel underneath. She meant it.

“But I can’t do anything.” My words came out small, like I was six years old again. Pathetic.

“You can count money, and you do it quick and well.” She grinned, nudging a pile of coins toward me. “That’s a skill, kiddo. Not everyone’s got it.” She winked, like she was letting me in on a secret.

I was skipping stones in the backyard when I saw my parents and the clan all shoot up into the sky—gone!

One minute I was aiming for the far fence, the next, the whole backyard was empty. It was like they’d been sucked up by a giant vacuum. Not even a goodbye.

“What happened?” The goldfish said, “Looks like the prince is in trouble. Didn’t you sense it?” She looked at me like I’d missed the punchline again. Classic.

I tried, but felt nothing at all.

I closed my eyes, tried to listen for something—anything—but all I got was the sound of wind chimes. No secret signals. Nada.

“Oh, I forgot you’re human!” she smacked her head.

She spun in her bowl, bubbles popping. “Sorry, I keep forgetting.” She looked genuinely apologetic.

“The sea folk have telepathy?”

“Not just us—all the clans do. There are fewer and fewer kids these days. If you don’t keep a close eye, what if they disappear?” She sounded almost sad, her voice dropping to a whisper. For once, she seemed worried.

Hearing that, I panicked, worried about my brother, but there was nothing I could do and I couldn’t leave. I felt useless.

I paced the porch, biting my nails, wishing I could sprout wings or gills or anything that would let me help. Just give me something.

Seeing me pace, the goldfish tried to comfort me: “The sea folk have tough luck. Even if you die, the prince will be fine.” She meant well, but it didn’t help. I wanted to scream. Ugh.

“I know you mean well, but you could’ve kept that to yourself.” She looked sheepish, sinking to the bottom of her bowl. Awkward.

Everyone came back, and I ran over, only to see my brother holding a girl covered in blood.

The sight stopped me cold. My brother’s shirt was stained red, his face pale, and the girl in his arms looked half-dead. I froze, not sure what to do.

When they saw me, their faces were weird, like they were hiding something.

They exchanged glances, shifting from foot to foot. The air was thick with secrets. You could feel it.

I spoke up first: “Shouldn’t we save her first?” My voice cracked, but it broke the spell. Suddenly everyone snapped into action, moving fast.

Only then did my brother and the others react and hurry off with her. As Mom passed me, she patted my head: “Poor thing.” Her hand lingered on my hair, her eyes full of something I couldn’t name. It made my skin prickle.

I was totally confused. I’m perfectly fine, what’s so pitiful?

I stood in the doorway, arms crossed, trying to piece it all together.

I asked the others who’d gone with them, and only then did I find out the girl in my brother’s arms was his sister, my parents’ daughter. Wait, what?

The words hit me like a rogue wave. I stared at them, waiting for the punchline. This had to be a joke, right?

I pointed at myself: “Then who am I?” Everyone shook their heads. No way, could it really be this dramatic? My stomach dropped.

They looked away, shuffling their feet, no one meeting my eyes. It was like the world had flipped upside down. Nothing made sense anymore.

I thought and thought. I was indeed born from my mom.

I replayed every memory, every family photo, searching for something I’d missed.

“That girl’s true form is a golden mermaid, just like the clan leader.”

“She also has a bloodline connection with the leader and his wife.”

“She looks a lot like the leader’s wife.”

The pieces started to fit together, one by one. The whispers, the looks, the way people treated me like a curiosity. Suddenly, it all clicked.

Everyone told me bit by bit, and after sorting it out, it all made sense!

It was like finding the missing page in a storybook. Suddenly, I understood why I never quite belonged. It hurt, but it was also a relief.

My dad is the only pure golden merfolk in the clan, my brother takes after Mom, and I look like I was picked up—turns out, I really am an outsider! Guess the joke’s on me.

It stung, but at least now I knew. I wasn’t a mistake—I was just different. Different’s not always bad.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

“Yeah, even though you’re not the leader’s real kid, it’s no big deal.”

“We already accepted you’re human, so accepting you’re not the real child isn’t much.”

“Right, it’s not like you’ll live that long anyway.”

Their words were blunt, but honest. In a weird way, it was comforting. No sugarcoating, just the truth. I could live with that.

The clan is great, just a bit blunt, but hey, it’s the truth.

I thanked them, then went to find my parents, only to find my brother sitting on the porch steps. He looked like he’d been there a while.

He was hunched over, elbows on his knees, staring out at the waves. I sat down beside him, the wood warm under my legs. We sat in silence for a minute.

“Is she okay?” My brother said, “She should be fine. Even though it looks bad, you know, we’re tough as nails.” He tried to sound casual, but I could hear the worry in his voice. He was scared, too.

“I know I’m not your real sibling now,” I said. I braced myself for the answer, heart pounding in my chest. Please say it doesn’t matter.

“It’s okay, you were never the same as us anyway.” He gave me a lopsided smile, like he was letting me in on a secret. My chest loosened a little.

I asked my brother how he met that girl, and he rambled on, not without pride, finally summing up: “Mara should have been the sea folk’s little princess, but ended up as lost as an orphaned mermaid.” He looked both proud and sad.

He told stories about secret meetings, wild adventures, close calls. His eyes sparkled as he talked about Mara, like she was the missing piece he’d always been looking for. I could see how much she meant to him.

I hung my head. “If it weren’t for me—” Guilt twisted in my stomach. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d stolen her place. Maybe I didn’t belong here after all.

My brother cut me off, “Come on, what’s it got to do with you? Be happy. Think positive. We feel bad for Mara, but sea folk are tough and bounce back.” He nudged my shoulder, trying to cheer me up. “You’re not responsible for the world, sis.”

I thought of her all bloodied. “But, she—” My brother said quietly, “Mainly, the two of us went to the undersea realm to steal their sacred relic, got chased, and, you know, we’re still young—we can’t beat those old-timers.” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “We bit off more than we could chew, that’s all.”

Uh, suddenly I felt they’re both weak and reckless, but I was still worried about my brother, so I asked if he was okay.

He grinned, but there was a bruise on his cheek. “I’ll live. Mara’s the real hero.”

“Mara’s tougher. She shielded me. Sigh, if she’d grown up in the clan, I’d have been grounded for life.” My brother sighed, shaking his head.

He looked out at the ocean, lost in thought. “She saved my skin more times than I can count.” He sounded grateful, but a little sad.

Mara was fine, my brother got punished—so pitiful!

I snorted, then patted his shoulder. “Better luck next time, champ.”

As for me, nothing really changed.

I went back to counting coins, skipping stones, trying to pretend everything was normal. Just the same old routine.

Everything stayed calm until Mara woke up. She made a scene in her room, and my parents had no choice but to ask me to go comfort her. I could hear her yelling from the kitchen.

I could hear her yelling all the way from the kitchen. Mom and Dad looked at each other, then at me, like I was the designated peacekeeper. Lucky me.

“What can I do?” I raised my hands in surrender. I wasn’t exactly the comforting type. This was not my thing.

Mom helped me put on her feathered shawl as she spoke: “She can’t accept being merfolk. We thought, since you can accept being human, maybe you two could talk, so go comfort her.” She draped the shawl over my shoulders, fussing with the collar. “Just be yourself. Maybe she needs to hear it from someone who gets it.”

“Uh?” I was already sweating under the feathers. “You sure about this?” This was above my pay grade.

“It’s okay, this shawl is super strong. She can’t hurt you.” Mom winked, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s basically armor.”

I can accept being human because I’ve always been human, but she can’t accept being merfolk because she’s always been human too. Weird how that works.

It hit me then—maybe we weren’t so different after all.

But since my parents thought I could do it, I gritted my teeth and went in.

I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and marched into the storm. Here goes nothing.

The room was a mess. Mara was rolling on the floor, and when she saw me, she sat up and looked me over. “You’re the human in the sea clan?”

Her eyes were red, but there was a spark of curiosity in them. She looked me up and down like she was sizing up a rival. I felt weirdly flattered.

I nodded. She pushed aside the junk and let me sit. I sat beside her. She kept staring at me, and I peeked at her a few times, couldn’t help but lower my head, thinking—her mermaid crown is so pretty, like gold. Shiny, almost magical.

It caught the light, shimmering with every movement. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible. My eyes kept drifting back.

I couldn’t help it, I had to look again.

No, I want to look one more time.

Heh, just a peek. It’s a little chubby, but still gorgeous.

“Like it?” She pointed at her crown.

I nodded dumbly, and then she grinned, froze me in place, and put her hand over my mouth. My brain short-circuited.

Her grip was strong, and her smile a little wild. I froze, heart hammering. She meant business.

I was freaking out inside—Mom, did you forget? She can’t kill me, but she knows magic, and that’s terrifying for me. My mind was racing.

I tried to remember if the shawl would actually protect me, or if it was just for show.

Then, I watched as she smiled, twisted off her own mermaid crown, set it on my head, and pressed down hard. “Here you go.” My scalp tingled.

The crown was heavier than it looked. My scalp prickled, and I felt a weird jolt, like static electricity. It was like my head was buzzing.

Ahhh, I wanted to scream. Why does it hurt? I felt the pain deep in my bones. Is it really growing out of my head? What kind of magic is this?

My eyes watered, but I bit my lip, trying not to yelp.

“Done!” She clapped. “Want the tail, too?”

She looked so serious I almost believed she could do it.

I looked at her in horror as she reached for her tail, mumbling, “Forgot you can’t talk. Don’t yell later, okay?” She seemed almost amused.

She fiddled with the crown, making sure it was crooked just right.

As she spoke, she wiggled the crown she’d just put on my head, which wasn’t even set right yet. Like she was playing dress-up.

It felt like it was glued to my skull. I tried to wriggle away, but she held me steady. No escape.

“No, no, no, I don’t want it.” I shook my head, the crown slipping over one eye.

She looked a bit disappointed. I asked her why she did it. I needed to know.

She shrugged, her voice soft. “I want to be human. You want to be sea folk. Isn’t this a win-win?”

“You’re just forcing me!” She smirked. “Maybe. But you started it by staring.” She had a point.

“Anyway, now neither of us is fully merfolk or fully human.” She kept shaking the crown on my head, maybe finding it funny, humming, “Crown on the head, tail behind, la la la la la…”

Her voice was sing-song, the melody oddly familiar.

Wait, those words sound familiar, and the tune too. I tentatively said that classic line: “Odd changes don’t change.”

She paused, eyes wide, then broke into a grin.

She immediately hugged me: “Look at the sign for the quadrant.”

Her hug was fierce, almost desperate. I hugged her back, feeling something click into place. Like maybe I’d finally found my people.

We exchanged grins and kept matching lines, all correct.

It was like finding a long-lost friend in the middle of a storm. We laughed, finishing each other’s sentences. It felt right.

She undid the spell on me. “Finally found my people.”

She wiped her eyes, smiling. “Took long enough.”

“But you already made me not look human,” I said.

She shrugged. “It’s fine, now everyone can see we’re the same. Oh right, Finn said you don’t have a core?” She looked at me, curious.

I nodded, confused. She calmly said something that nearly scared me to death: “I have one, I’ll share it with you.” As she spoke, she started to dig at her chest, and I tackled her, yelling for help. Not today!

I lunged, knocking her over, my heart in my throat. “Stop! Are you crazy?”

My parents and brother rushed in, and when they saw us, they nearly fainted.

Dad dropped his coffee mug, Mom gasped, and my brother just stared, mouth open. You’d think they’d seen a ghost.

Mara, my new best friend, is a good person. She took all the blame, blocking me behind her: “If there’s a problem, blame me. She’s just a little useless, what could she do? I put the crown on her.” She stood tall, arms spread, daring anyone to argue.

“You—you—you—you!” Dad pointed at her, then at me. If he weren’t merfolk and sturdy, he’d have passed out. “Unbelievable!” He sputtered, face turning red, but couldn’t get the words out. He was in shock.

“We just clicked. What I have, I want her to have too.” Mara’s voice was steady, her eyes bright. She wasn’t sorry, not even a little. She meant every word.

“But you can’t just break off your crown!” Mom said. She clutched her own necklace, horrified, eyes wide.

“She can’t even break a wishbone. You let her in, wasn’t it just letting me do whatever I want?” Mara grinned, mischief in her eyes. “You knew what you were getting into.”

Dad was shocked: “Impossible, she’s my child!” He looked at me, then at Mara, then back again, as if seeing us both for the first time. He didn’t know what to think.

Yeah, who would’ve thought Mara would be so wild? Instead of fighting me, she gave me stuff! The feathered shawl was supposed to be for defense, but sticking a crown on my head isn’t exactly an attack. More like a weird present.

I touched the crown, still warm, and realized maybe being different wasn’t so bad after all.

There’s no one else on the whole Atlantic coast who’d stick their own crown on someone else’s head!

I grinned, feeling lighter than I had in years. Maybe this was the start of something new—something just for us.