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Beware of the fangirl...The diary of a Gaian.
This is the diary of Dawna Celeste, just another ordinary Gaian...or is she?
Victory in defeat.
It worked, it all worked. As soon as the sea-people saw me wearing the crown, they accepted me as their queen. Unfortunately, the usurper wasn't there, so we had to go find him. By the time I led my impromptu army up to the tower room at the top of the palace, it composed most of the sea-people. The few guards in the tower joined us, and the usurper found himself alone, with not even his anchor for defence. I faced him, staring into his fish-like eyes. I reached out to him with my thoughts, telling him it was all right, he could surrender, he wouldn't be harmed, and I felt my army's surprise at my mercy. But I also felt the usurper's thoughts...cold, dark, and so very alone. Alone. Not part of the group-mind that surrounded him.
"So," he thought. "You have won, land-crawler. See if you can keep your post."
I tried to hide my confusion, but he picked up on both it and my attempt to hide it. "I wouldn't do that," he thought, "it killed your governor. She died earlier in the day. Couldn't stand being alone in the crowd."
I struggled with a wave of cold grief, and he thought the feeling that is the sea-people's laughter. "We're different, aren't we?" he went on. "We can feel the crowd and not be a part of it. It's like that with you on land, isn't it? With the other land-crawlers?"
I nodded, and thought something along the lines of, "Yes, but it's not like here. We don't use thoughts to communicate, and I can't read their minds. I just feel better when I'm with others."
"As we all do," the usurper thought. "And I know that my punishment will be exile. Even if you do not send me away, the others will." He did the laughing thought again. "Would you like to know how your beloved governor died?"
I didn't want to, but I knew I probably should. "Yes," I said.
The usurper thought a laugh again, and I could barely keep myself from hitting him. "Like this," he thought, and before I could recognize what he was doing, he had pulled something silver from his seaweed robes and slammed it against his chest. I recoiled at the screaming pain that came from him, then pushed myself toward him. A silver knife handle was sticking out of his chest, moving with the beat of his heart.
What could do I do? To pull the knife out would kill him. I had never thought that this could happen, that a sea-person could do this. Then I remembered what he had said, that my governor had died this way. She must have been driven mad by the pressure of keeping her thoughts hidden.
"You are like me," the governor thought weakly. "I did not have to do this, but I will not let you let me live. And I wanted to show you..." He shuddered. "For once, let me know what your land-crawler skin feels like."
What could I do? I reached out to him, then, on an impulse, cradled him in my arms. He looked at me, thought, "So like me," and then his hand went to the knife handle. Before I could stop him, he had yanked it out. The water around us filled with a cloud of dark blood as my enemy died in my arms.
When the cloud of blood thinned, we were surrounded by the other sea-people. All were staring at the dead usurper's face. Though the water was filled with their shock, their faces were, as always, blank. The usurper's dead, fish-like lips were curled in what only a human could recognize as a smile.





 
 
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