Beware of the Bright and the Beast

"Come on Rayah, the procession is about to start".

The other young maiden mermaids from Rayah's pod were all gathered together, waiting for the procession to begin. 

Unlike the other gatherings that were happy and lively, this special event referred to as the Mourning Procession, was a quiet and solemn occasion. 

The Ancient Ones didn't speak and address the clan as usual, and the festive singing of young maidens were not part of the program.

Instead, the procession consisted only of silent mourners, making their way from the boughs of the ocean, and swimming upward.

They swam until they were just beneath the invisible barrier between the deep and the main path that led to the surface, referred to as the Bright.

Only once a year during the Harvest Moon, did they dare to come up so far from the deep, and only because of what the ritual symbolized.

This was their way of mourning one of their own and expressing grief for the way she had died so many moons ago.

The Mourned Mermaid

For nearly half a century, the Nesirkie clan of Merpeople didn't have to spell out or create an actual rule about not swimming to the surface of the water.

The myth surrounding the tail-less beast that was known to ravage their people was just like any other myth, only partly rooted in fact. But it did a good job of instilling fear about the surface.

The story behind the very first sighting of the beast had been circulated for a long time, and continued to be passed on through songs that their little ones sang.

Straying anywhere near the upper area of the water, known to them as the Bright, meant more than just breaking an unspoken rule.

Taking such a foolish action meant ignoring a longstanding myth and preparing to lose your life.

Rayah recalled the time she was just a youngling and everyone in her school was busy enjoying themselves chasing silver dartfish.

When some of the littlest ones in the pod began to swim too far upward, all it took was one sharp click from the school's elder, and suddenly everyone tilted at once.

No one had to ask or wonder why the change in course, and no one mentioned how close they had gone. It was just understood.

She remembered how she had felt, reluctantly allowing the dartfish to scatter and escape into the pale shimmer above.

For a long time afterward, she wondered could there really be more to the Bright and to what the surface held above.

Instinct told her it was wrong to think about the surface too much. 

It was the same instinct that enabled the Mer to swim in unison when they traveled in pods. Instinctively, they all knew when to curve together and dip low in places whenever the water appeared to lighten.

The lively pods would cease to make a sound, until once again, they reached the darkness and felt the safety of the deep.

When the adults were swimming in open sea, they made sure to swim steadily along a slanted path, just as if they were all following an invisible ceiling.

Their instincts kept them safe and from straying out of bounds, up towards the surface.

Rayah lagged behind the other young maidens like her, as they all headed to the procession. She thought about the words to one of the familiar songs related to this memorable occasion.

"We dare not stray up close to the Bright

Where the deep will fail to protect us

Where the tail-less beast will make us scream

So stay in deep waters we must"

The song instantly made her mourn for her poor mer-sister; brutally killed and devoured so long ago, with no final resting place in the sea.

As she hurried along to catch up with her friends, she hummed to herself; pondering about the other verses of the song that continued to warn Merpeople about the dangers up top.

Suddenly, she felt ashamed because of how much fascination the Bright had always held for her. 

Redirecting her focus back to the day's events, she pushed aside her curiosity about the Bright, and immediately fell in line with the procession.