Lysis felt the bones of her tail ache. They always did before she set out. Her nieces and nephews honored her with a feast before she went out, but the ache made it hard to enjoy the feast, or the children. She loved them, she truly did, but there was a reason, besides her calling, that she did not have brats of her own.

  She wove her way through the tunnels, the glowing jellyfish she’d taken from the school outside her sister’s home wasn’t truly necessary, she could feel the water and the walls, and knew the route like she knew her own scales. Even as she thought that, she managed to scrape against the side of the wall, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to sting, make her grumble and make her wish she was wearing the clothes woven from the reeds and plants of their home. Which, of course, made her feel guilty, such things were fine for the others, but she was a Guide. She went outside the walls of their caverns.

  She led the people to the spot where the Water Lion had slain the sahuagin and freed their clan from that threat, before leading them to the caverns where they lived to this day, all in exchange for a song. He went naked, so did she, so did all the guides. Well, except for her spear. The only metal weapon they had, made of tarnished bronze shaft and spearhead, which did not rust, unlike the small amounts of iron they had sometimes found either by her, or her predecessors (or her idiot apprentice, Krlil, who insisted he had learned enough to Guide without her, despite only six years of training) in the Great River when she ventured out, or which was lost in one of the pools which connected to their caverns.

  She waited by the exit, for the Guided. There were three children this month, which wasn’t unusual. Their growth was limited by the caverns, but life could still be hard, disease swept through their small community frequently, despite the best efforts of their shaman and chief and though food was plentiful, accidents were frequent too, whether while hunting, or in the many games that especially the young liked to play.

  They arrived one at a time, each accompanied by their families. None tried to speak with her, they knew better. She focused on what was to come, letting the route and the expected threats float through her mind as the world drifted past her. The meditation slowed her heart and pushed the aches and uncertainty away, letting her become the Guide in truth.

  This set was nervous about going out into the river, for their coming-of-age, but they didn’t twitch overmuch and each managed to meet her gaze as she looked them over. No would-be runaways or explorers in this group, she thought. “You have your shells?” she asked.

  Each of them nodded, one already had it in his hands, as he was too poor for the pouches the other two had theirs concealed in. Each lifted it high so she could see the carvings on the front, of their chosen patron, two for Eadro, their creator and one for the Water Lion, their protector. The carvings on the front proved their skill and adulthood. The carving on the back was their own prayer and was no concern of anyone but them and the gods. She nodded. “Follow me carefully, and silently. Obey my orders like the chief’s. If we are caught by outsiders, die before you tell them of the entryways.”

  They nodded solemnly.

  A dozen large merfolk were waiting by the rock which blocked the entryway to the river. Lysis floated there for a moment, closing her eyes and doing her best to feel if there was any threat. As always, the Water Lion did not warn of anything. She swam closer to the rock. The other merfolks shifted it, working in manful silence, though some of the women in the families of the Guided were watching with more than a bit of lust. One started a low whistle, before being silenced by a fang-edged glare from the Guide.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Sound traveled and was dangerous with an entryway open. They had only opened it a handsbreath, though muscles shook to keep it there, she closed her eyes, listening intently, focused on what was beyond their safe haven. Her nose twitched, smelling the scents brought by the river. Nothing unexpected. She nodded, without opening her eyes and the entryway was opened further, just far enough.

  She went through without a backward look. She’d ordered them to follow, if they couldn’t follow that order, then they could not complete this rite.

  All three followed her. She felt the water react to their awkward movements and was certain they were sliding in the unexpectedly powerful current, which they’d never experienced. But they recovered swiftly enough as they swam upstream. Always travel upstream, where the scents of what you travel towards will be carried to you, while your own will be denied to them. The old words from her master rang in her ears. He had been an old bastard. Krlil may have thought her harsh, but he wouldn’t have lasted a day with her old master.

  Youngsters today were so soft.

  She almost snorted to herself as those words came not in her own voice, but in her old master’s. It was one of his favorite sayings, and she’d hated it. It was a shame he was as right about it as he had been everything else…

  They moved swiftly, along the river bottom, just above the mud and sand. It was not a long trip, but the silence clearly weighed on the children. But they obeyed, holding their tongues as her carefully honed and trained senses kept carefully focused on every threat which might exist and guided them along the hidden, sacred path, almost invisible from above and to the sides as they wove through the thick plants growing along the bottom of the river. Some part of her noted that the plants were growing back fast, she would need to make another trip, alone, to carefully trim them back to maintain this path, as well as the multiple false trails that led to some of the dangers of this part of the river.

  She could feel the tension growing amongst the children, expecting to be jumped by sahuagin, surface dwellers, or demons at every moment, until she brought them to a halt. They clearly wanted to speak, but didn’t, even as she thrust her spear into the ground and swam back towards them at full speed, which levered the cover out of place, revealing the cache of prayers, hidden under the ancient pad which had been in place ever since the first Guide reclaimed this sacred place for the people.

  The voice came out, as her eyes began to glow. As always, she felt the Water Lion only here, only in this moment. “Place your work within the cache, speak no words, but remember your prayer and your god in this sacred place,” the ancient words flowed out of her and through the water, deep, reverberating in the bones of the children who had reached this place, shaking them to their core. But despite the strangeness around them and her own terrifying visage, they rallied and one by one they dashed forward and slipped their shells into the cache.

  The Guide slammed her spear down on the other side of the cover and threw her whole body weight against it, slamming it back into place. Without another word, she continued swimming upstream, the others falling into line behind her. They never swam downstream, where any enemy would be coming from, instead they continued swiftly upstream until they reached the second concealed entrance to their caverns. She thrust her bronze spear through the small gap near the entryway, once, twice, thrice and left it there. At that sign, the men who’d let her out (and then swum to the other end of the caverns to the other block) pushed it aside just far enough to let her and the others in.

  The new adult’s families were waiting and smiling, but they held their tongues until the block was back in place and the Guide had retrieved her spear. “The clan has three new adults! Step forward, and speak your names!”

  Each did so, though they passed through her mind, as tension began to fade and the intense focus and meditative state which she had maintained throughout abandoned her, leaving the aches in her body and the tension headache, as the Guide moved on, leaving only Lysis. The families were throwing a feast of course, and Lysis went, as was required, though she had a hard time eating much. The backlash from the nerves of being out in the river twisted her stomach, so she simply nibbled on a few things before finally taking her leave.

  She headed home, tired and heart heavy. She really needed to find another apprentice, or rebind her relationship with Krlil...but for now, she needed to rest.

  AN: The Water Lion is a minor underwater deity in the Forgotten Realms I’m stealing for these merfolk (). He famously hates sharks and loves music, so I figure this works.

  Merfolk, unlike sahuagin lack night vision and so apparently rely on bioluminescent fish and plants to see in their underwater homes. Comments/critiques/corrections always welcome.