The Prince That Disappeared

A prince is turned into a fish after offending a fairy, and left in a pond in the chambers of the princess he's due to marry the next day.

The fairy fluttered her long eyelashes at him. “A prince!” she cooed. “I didn't know you were a prince. I suppose it makes sense, no pauper should be blessed with your beauty, divine one.”

Altan felt his cheeks flush, and smiled. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, a deep purple silk garment that glittered with gold thread embroidery. His clothes were fine enough, and he felt sure the fairy knew at once of his status from the moment she'd seen him. She was no fool to think him a pauper in his finery.

“You flatter me,” he said quietly, still smiling. He sat on the stone bench in the garden, patting the space beside him.

The fairy beamed, and floated from the tree she'd been hiding behind, to sit beside the prince. She rocked back, lifting her knees and clasping her tiny hands around them, and she playfully bumped her shoulder against Altan's. She reached out a hand to play with a lock of his blue-black hair. Her great sapphire wings fluttered, softly brushing against Altan's back.
His heart thumped. He'd never met anyone like her in his life.

He was in great danger.

Fairies were beautiful, ethereal creatures. With limbs delicate as flowers, abundant long hair and wings as beautiful as a butterfly's, it was difficult to think of them as dangerous.

But the gleam in the fairy's glittering eyes made his skin crawl. She gently took hold of his arm, and her red claws pricked his skin.

What was she even doing in the garden? Altan wished desperately that he hadn't come out here. He'd just wanted some air, a break. He hadn't wanted to face the evening just yet. He'd left his chambers to relax.

And instead had run straight into this creature, skin the colour of young lily stems, rose-coloured hair, eyes a sunset after a forest fire. She smiled, and her teeth had ended in long points.

It was unwise to run from a fairy. Altan had been trapped. All he could do was pretend to be pleased, flatter her, talk to her, and hope she'd lose interest and return to her forest.

But so far, he feared he'd only provoked her curiosity.

She gasped, and giggled. Her hands clasped tightly over his, claws jabbing painfully.

“How would you like to see my home?” she asked.

Ice surged into Altan's stomach. She wanted to kidnap him.

“Please?” she wheedled, eyes wide. Her long ears twitched with excitement. “You could see my home!” she exclaimed. “In the fairy realm! Oh, it's beautiful there, prince. The trees dance and sing, the constellations of the stars are like spider webs, and we have four moons. You only have three here, and your trees sleep. You could live with me in a silver palace, finer than this one, and drink liquid gold. You would never want to leave.”

Altan smiled, and gently removed her hand from his wrist. Her home sounded enchanting, but he knew that if he went with her, he would never leave. Whether he wanted to or not.

Those who were spirited away to the fairy realm never came back. He did not want to disappear too.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “But you see, I have duties here. I cannot leave, not even for a short holiday. I'm a prince. One day I will rule this entire nation, and I need to be here to do that. And.. I won't be ruling alone.”

The fairy blinked. “What?”

“I'm betrothed,” Altan said, and held up his hand. A gold band circled his fourth finger, bright against the warm mahogany of his skin. “We're to be married tomorrow.”

The fairy's eyes went wide with hurt. Then they narrowed, hard orange jewels. Her lips curled into a snarl, sharp teeth bared.

“You lied,” she hissed.

Altan blinked. What? He'd never said he wasn't engaged. He stood up. “Now, h-hold on-!”

“You lied to me!” the fairy roared. She sprang into the air, wings snapping out to hover her in front of him. Altan took a step back.

“You courted me!” she howled. “You seduced me with sweet words and beauty, and now you reject me! Worse; you go behind the back of your betrothed. You led me on!”

Altan was in big trouble. He held up his hands. “Now, p-please �" I never intended to flirt, I just..”

“No more talk!” The fairy whipped forward and grabbed his shoulder, claws piercing through the silk into his skin. Her eyes narrowed. “No more talk.. ever, I think. And no more beauty.”

Her eyes widened. “Your betrothed is the pale one, is she not?” she asked. “The ugly girl. I knew she could not be from your lands. A marriage of alliance. Of course.”

She smiled. “Poor lonely ugly girl, talking to her fish. Perhaps you should listen to her for a while.” She laughed, a chilling cackle that sent sharp shivers down Altan's spine.

“Yes,” she said. “You shall be one of her friends in the fish pond. You'll never be beautiful again, or seduce women with sweet words again. And you'll never be able to betray your betrothed again. You'll never leave her side!” She cackled again, and sparks of blue energy flickered around her hands.

A sharp pain bloomed in Altan's stomach, a ripping sensation that spread outwards. He grunted. The pain surfaced, sending jolts of pain over his skin, not unlike pins and needles. He looked at his arms; his clothes were melting into his skin. He stared in horror as the silk sank in, morphing, turning into orange scales the same colour as his eyes.

The pain enveloped him completely, as his bones scraped and popped and groaned and changed. His lungs tore into shreds, and he felt as though his sides had been sliced open �" his gills.

His fingers fused, his hands flattening and becoming translucent. His legs fused as well, melting and flattening.
He gulped air to scream, only to drown.

The fairy threw him, he splashed against water and at last he could breathe. He gasped, sucking at the water. He tried to kick, but found he couldn't move his legs. He couldn't move his head to look at himself, but he knew what had happened.

The fairy had turned him into a goldfish.

He drifted motionless for a moment, registering the new form of his body. His tail, his fins. He wriggled the tail, and could swim forward.

He looked up, and the fairy was grinning cruelly down at him, her face distorted by the surface of the water. He swam up and broke the surface.

She smirked. “Welcome to your new home, prince,” she cooed. Then with a flutter of her sapphire wings, she was gone.

Altan looked around him. He was in a stone pond, with green algae-covered rocks at the bottom, several plants, and other goldfish. They swam lazily in circles around the pond, seemingly oblivious to him, the newcomer.

Altan propelled himself upwards, pushing himself out of the water. He could see out of the pond!
The pond was in the centre of a small circular courtyard, bounded by trees and a tall iron fence. Large glass doors led in to what appeared to be a bedchamber.

He knew where he was.

He was in the chambers of the Elkyan princess, the foreign girl whom he'd been betrothed to marry. This was her courtyard, and this was her fish pond.

He sank down into the water, motionless with disbelief.

He'd been so afraid the fairy would kidnap him, but this? This was much worse.

Now he was helpless, trapped; disappeared, and yet he was not even gone. Stuck with the princess without end, and he could not even tell her what had happened.

He bristled. Of course he would end up stuck with her, one way or another.

He ducked his head up again, and there she was; with her caretaker, the large woman. She'd been dressed up in a fine gown, the same purple that he'd been wearing earlier.

The pale girl looked ridiculous; her skinny arms stuck awkwardly out of the sleeves, and she tottered in her high heels. Her long dark hair had been trussed up and what seemed like a garden full of flowers had been stuck into it. She turned to look out into the garden, and the red splotches on her cheeks and nose clashed horribly with the purple, and her crooked large nose and caterpillar eyebrows made her look more like a man, forced into a gown. She looked about as uncomfortable.

Altan sank back into the water, brooding. He was almost glad he hadn't been able to go to the ball; having the awkward, clumsy girl at his arm would have been humiliating.

She was not from his land; the fairy had at least gotten that right.

She was from Elkye, a land much farther north of his land, Baliqas.
Elkye was supposed to be a cold, desolate land of snowy tundras. Giant cheetahs roamed the chilly grasslands, made of a tough, sparse grass that offered little protection or nourishment for grazing animals. He'd never been there.

The people there were about as tough, and were mostly a pale, ugly people with large noses and abundant body hair. Their crown princess, daughter of the Elkyan king, was no exception. Though she hadn't seemed to inherit her people's hardiness; she was a meek, quiet creature, who was easily frightened. She was more like a deer than the cheetah that her royal family used as an emblem.

In contrast, Altan's land was a warm, green place, with great forests and rich cities. His people were lively and had a rich culture of music, art and craftsmanship. They were also more beautiful; a dark people with a variety of hair and eye colourings, slender with fine features. In comparison, Elkyans were nothing but rough savages.

They were formidable, though, and had long posed the threat of war against Baliqas. The Elkyans were desperate, lustful of the wealth that Baliqas possessed, and sought to take it for itself.

The marriage had been planned long ago, by Altan's royal mother the Queen of Baliqas, and the king of Elkye. The idea had been to unite the two lands in an alliance, that would allow trade and sharing of wealth across nations. The marriage would serve to seal the alliance.

With this in mind, the Elkyan princess had been sent to the Baliqan royal palace as a young child, to grow up saturated in the culture of her future husband. The idea had also been to have the two royal children grow up as friends, so as to lessen the shock of their arranged marriage.

That had backfired horribly. Altan scowled and sunk deeper into the water.

He could not tell how much time had passed when he began hearing shouts and cries beyond the courtyard. He popped his head above water, hoping to hear something.

It was mostly unintelligible. Chaotic noise, of fury and fear. But he managed to catch a few words.

“The prince is gone!”

“Prince Altan has disappeared!”

“The Elkyan savage must have done it!”

“The princess! She did it!”

He couldn't believe it. So his disappearance had been discovered �" and his betrothed, the foreign outsider from an enemy land �" had been blamed.

Before long, there was a crash. Altan popped his head up and saw the princess. She looked a mess, her dress disheveled, her hair loose and most of the flowers had fallen out. Her feet were bare, shoes kicked off. She was pressed against the doors of her bedchamber, and he could hear her voice calling faintly.

“Odval!” she cried out. “Odval, what is happening?!”

The girl stayed at the door for a bit longer, and the movement from her mouth indicated that she was talking through the doors to Odval �" the large woman who served as her caretaker and tutor. Odval must have brought her here, after the discovery of the prince's disappearance. Judging by the angry shouts outside the courtyard, for her own safety.

Then the girl turned from the door, and slumped to the ground in a heap. The conversation had ended. She looked devastated.

After a few moments, the princess stood, and made her way to the glass doors. She pushed them open, and crossed the courtyard to the fishpond.

She flopped down beside the pond, red-mottled hands gripping the stones. She stared down into the water, her features twisted with fear.

For a moment, Altan felt guilty. The girl was being punished for making him disappear, and he hadn't even left.

The girl chewed her lip. “Altan, where are you?” she whispered, voice sending ripples across the surface, distorting her image.

Altan stared up at her undulating face, frustration growing in his chest. I'm here.