Betraying the Kingdom of Dicke was something Merry did not suspect he’d do. Not in the early years of his life, when every day was full of games, plays, and the grandest of parties hosted by the most noble of Tritons. He danced through these years, carefree.
He was the child of two Monarchs who had plenty of heirs before him, and worried very little about the direction his life took. His options were wide open, his life before him, his family behind him. Free to love (nearly) anyone, free to pursue his passions. Merry loved art, he loved plays, he kept up with the latest stories of triumph, valor, of loss and love. He knew by heart the ancient stories told in the greatest theaters that the oceans had to offer. The role his parents would frequently see him fitting into over the years was a playwright, maybe a diplomat, perhaps they’d send him to the surface to train at the College of Valor, or maybe Eloquence or Creation. Having a child of nobility involved in the retelling of their ancient history made them proud, and Merry was delighted.
In these histories it is often highlighted the ever-changing landscape that is the ocean, that nothing stays the same. Tides change, sands shift, and all that is can be swept away in a moment. Merry’s moment was not when he discovered for himself the tell-tale signs of the sorcery that was linked with his family's name. It was when he witnessed the fate of those who betray their destiny. who tell lies. Thrown into the crushing weight of the deepest trenches, where no Triton was known to survive. When magic arced like electricity along his arms, and one of his parents leaned down over him. All he could do was cry.
You’ve done nothing wrong, my child; this is a gift.
This is a gift.
He was 13 years old when he received this gift, and his current shifted.
Years passed by of training under the finest of Triton scholars, learning of magic, of battle. It was expected of him to become a warrior, to devote himself to the people of the Kingdom of Dicke. To all the Triton of the ocean. To protect the land from The Deep Ones. And, being betrothed was the best way to ensure a lasting relationship with the Twilight Triton (AUTHORS NOTE: A subrace of triton i invented), they told him. Love is second-place to devotion, to duty, to honor. He bit back the questions, knowing that the punishment for why was the crushing weight of the ocean. He wondered if it really could feel so different from the way he felt now.
The first party he attended in many moons was planned so that Merry would meet his betrothed, on the shores of a kingdom of Coral Triton (AUTHORS NOTE: A subrace of triton i invented). It was there that he felt a longing for what he’d lost. The life he’d imagined when he was still chasing minnows, and they were always just out of reach. No matter how he tried, he could not catch them. He felt the crushing weight on his chest. He did not dance with the Twilight Triton, he slipped out of the party. This did not go unnoticed.
Merry’s brief sojourn from his commitments that night led him to a sole musician, tuning their instrument under the light of the stars. The song they plucked along nylon strings brought him in like a light in the dark. The player was someone from their past, a half-elf, a friend.
Their voice filled the heart of one who sought permission to follow it. Their advice to him was simple, suggesting to him…why not try? Perhaps, they were naive to the gravity of Triton tradition. However they saw it, Merry has never once blamed them for the folly of his own judgment. Nor for the encounter with his late sibling, the crowned heir, that left him with scars, ugly in their very nature, that twisted across him.
Merry knew that the currents would always lead here. This was his fate…
Although, Perhaps…
There was still time…?
Trying to use the rest of his life in the service of others, to make up for past mistakes (and with a secret hope he will be allowed back home), Merry joins an adventuring party.
