Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Beneath the Dark Moon

The Fate of Stars

About the Author

SD Simper

©2020 Endless Night Publications

Beneath the Dark Moon

Copyright © 2020 Endless Night Publications

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permissions, send a query to admin@sdsimper.com.

Cover Art by Jade Merien

Cover Design by Landice Leigh Anderson

ISBN (ebook): 978-1-952349-99-7

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In the undersea city of Stelune, Tallora closed up her mother’s shop, sparing a glance out the window for the sky high above. Hints of orange filtered through the deep water; night would soon fall.

Behind the stone counter, her mother tallied up the coins exchanged throughout the day, while Tallora swam to the back of the shop, to where her packed bag was floating in a small net. From the pouch, she withdrew a long, beaded necklace of pearls and tiny sea stars, quickly adjusting it around her neck. When she slung her bag across her shoulder, she checked the button latching it shut, praying it held until her escape. “Mother, I’m leaving.”

“So early?” she heard from the front of the shop.

Tallora swam through the stone arch separating the two rooms. “I was late the last time; I want to be certain I make a good impression on the high priestess.”

Her mother spared a glance to the necklace around her neck, then sighed and said, “All right. When will you return?”

“Likely not until sunrise. It’s the dark moon, and I have a hunch the sky is going to be perfectly clear.”

Mother swam over, her fuchsia tail causing slight waves against the wares of the shop, netted down into place. “Be safe,” she said, planting a kiss on Tallora’s forehead. She patted her cheek like a child’s, but Tallora indulged, despite having been in adulthood for a few years.

“Yes, Momma,” she said, as she rolled aside the stone blocking the small shop from the rest of the great city and swam out.

A great canal stretched out before her, bustling with merfolk swimming in a mass of organized chaos, interspersed by the occasional carriage drawn by porpoises, even a few braver souls with trained dolphins. Tallora avoided them, instead swimming up and over the great wall of shops.

Prayers to the Goddess of Stars wouldn’t begin for a few hours, but her mother didn’t need to know that. Mother didn’t need to know a great many things, such as her planned stops on her way to the surface.

She hadn’t lied. Priestesses-in-training would be meeting for prayers tonight, and Tallora would join them. But she removed her vestments to Goddess Staella, her beloved necklace of pearls and stars, and carefully slipped it into her pouch. What her mother didn’t know couldn’t worry her, couldn’t hurt her, so Tallora snuck away for a small taste of freedom before duty called once more.

She reached one of the homes built within the canyon’s cliff face and peered through the window. “Jessa?”

The door slid open. Jessa ushered her in, her purple locks of hair already pinned back by jeweled combs. “Managed to get away?” she teased, and Tallora laughed when she was taken to a mirror in what she presumed was Jessa’s bedroom—she hadn’t been here before.

Another mermaid was there, casually clipping shells onto the fin of her cyan blue tail—Tallora knew her as ‘Tam.’ “You must be Tallora,” Tam said. “I hope you aren’t planning on going looking like that.”

Tallora set her bag upon the vanity’s edge, the room illuminated by crystal sconces on the wall. “I came prepared,” she replied, revealing the stash of finery hidden in her workbag. “Couldn’t let my mother know. She thinks I’m praying with the Priestesses of Staella tonight.”

“Aren’t you though?” Jessa said, immediately helping Tallora to braid a small strand of pearls into her hair. “I thought you said you wanted to join them.”

“I’m nearly done with my training. But the prayers won’t start for hours; I have time.” Tallora spared a moment to appreciate Jessa’s lithe hands in her hair. She loved these little moments, often wondering if they were the reason she attended parties at all—the intimacy that came from prettying herself up among friends, the unspoken beauty rituals a secret language among women.

“Will your boy be there? Coran, right?”

Tallora wondered if she’d ever strain her eyes from rolling them over this; as it was the reaction was involuntary, drawing laughter from her friends. “No, we’re done. Found the fucking varlet with his tongue halfway down some unsuspecting girl’s throat.”

Jessa’s hands paused in her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m over it. Barely liked him anyway. There wasn’t much in his head, but he made me laugh.”

It was all true, yet it stung like a sliver in her fingernail—not painful, but annoying, constantly lurking in the back of her mind. Tallora bit back a frown, the betrayal far worse than the loss.

“This is good though!” Jessa said, despite Tallora’s sour mood. “I have someone I wanted you to meet anyway, though I can’t attest for how many thoughts are in his head either. Dreamy eyes, though. His name’s Yonel.”

Tallora grinned, briefly admiring her own self in the mirror. “It doesn’t take much else to win me over.”

As Jessa prattled on about this apparent dreamy-eyed young man, Tallora joined in braiding her hair, the white locks reflecting the faint blue of the sconce’s light, casting it in icy tones. She idly thought of her father, when years ago he had called her hair a glacier and she hadn’t understood—at six-years-old, she’d never seen one. He’d promised to take her north, to see the great whales swimming in pods and perhaps even befriend a seal. The undersea cities in the north weren’t so different than the warm waters they swam in here; he’d spoken of it with light and joy, a rare and beautiful thing for him.

Tallora hid her sudden sorrow by holding a comb in her mouth, trying to make sense of the second strand of pearls in her hair.

Her father had left many broken promises in the aftermath.

“Tallora, I have just the thing for your tail,” Tam said, interrupting her inner world. She withdrew a collection of jeweled shells, decorated in some sort of misty, white gemstone. “These will look lovely with the pink.”

The vibrant fuchsia did look superb with the clips, even if the sensation were uncomfortable. But the fin glittered with every motion, certain to draw the eyes of men and women alike. It would numb in time. With a final glance to admire the pearlescent sheen of her skin and scales, Tallora deemed herself perfection. “I’m ready,” she said, and the trio set off.

Night had fallen, and a distant voice in her head whispered a warning for the time. A part of her yearned for the stars and their light and patterns, for the familiarity of hymns, even if her singing voice was weak.

There was time; the night was young. The stars were ever-present.

Tallora shoved aside her prickling anxiety as they swam above and beyond the canyon’s walls, instead appearing in the vast and colorful coral reef. “Do we know who’ll be there?”

“Everyone, Tallora,” Jessa replied, gushing on the word like a finely plated dessert. “Everyone will be there.”

“I heard a rumor Prince Kalvin will be attending,” Tam said, clearly relishing in Jessa’s sudden gasp. “Just a rumor, though.”

Tallora couldn’t say she knew Jessa well—she didn’t know her family, her dreams, nor her reason to be so interested in a prince, but she did know she could consume an ungodly amount of bait and was prone to singing drunk renditions of hymns after. “If he’s there, he’s all yours.”

“Oh, don’t lie to me,” Jessa said, a hint of a jest in her tone, “I would hate you forever, but you can’t tell me you would turn down a prince.”

Tallora slowed to admire a large school of fish, vibrant even in the dim light. “I can’t be a queen; I’m going to be a priestess.”

“Priestesses can get married.”

“Yes, but ruling sounds . . .” She mulled over what words she wanted, only wishing to say it once. “. . . just absolutely awful.”

Her companions laughed. Tam led them beyond the reef, into open waters, as she said, “You don’t have to be queen. He can just be a fun night.”

Despite the pleasant mood, Tallora’s prickling survival instincts kicked in—open water meant sharks. The chance of finding one was slim, but the cost of keeping your eyes peeled was a small one when faced with potential death. “If he’s handsome, who am I to say no? I’m here to have a good time and get Coran out of my head.”

“That’s the Tallora we know,” Tam replied, pulling genuine confusion to Tallora’s face. “Always down for fun.”

Tallora didn’t know Tam at all—only by Jessa’s own tongue, and only that she said Tam was a friend worth having. And so for her to have any kind of knowledge of Tallora and her apparent reputation drew heat to her face.

Thankfully, Jessa picked up the conversation, prattling on about who was who at the party, relieving Tallora from scavenging a reply to that.

The party was being held in Lamedanea Ravine, famous for the algae that illuminated the walls in ghostly hues on moonless nights. A popular spot for dancing and revelry, and Tallora’s heartbeat spiked when she heard the first thrumming beats of music, chimes and bells echoing across the deep ravine. Spurred onward by excitement, the trio flicked their powerful tails and swam to join the throng of merfolk. Tallora giggled in anticipation.

She darted down into the riotous scene, quickly finding the source of the music—a group of merfolk with chimes and a deep, bellowing bowl of glass that echoed through the entire canyon. Jessa tapped her shoulder, coaxing her on. “I have friends hiding here somewhere,” she said, and Tallora followed her and Tam into the crowd, weaving past dancing revelers and flirting couples.

Jessa swam straight to a smaller, chattering ensemble of beautiful folk, immediately embracing a woman from behind—who startled but laughed as soon as she saw who it was. “Jessa, you tease,” she said, and Tallora’s breath caught to see her.

With hair like the midnight blue sky and a tail just as dark, the mermaid wore her hair free and wild, but her neck was draped with beads, some long enough to nearly cover her bare breasts. Her mischievous eyes quickly skimmed over Tallora’s slim figure, and on instinct, Tallora idly twisted a lock of her hair, settling somewhere between jealous and drawn.

“Who are your friends?” the beautiful one said, and Jessa immediately gestured to Tam.

“Tam, who might be the best dancer in Stelune,” Jessa said, and then she beckoned for Tallora to approach. “And this is Tallora.”

The beautiful one offered a hand. “My name’s Viviel. It’s delightful to meet you.”

“Isn’t it?” Tallora said, accepting the gesture, and certainly noting the teasing twist in Viviel’s grin. “Who are you here with?”

She’d meant it flirtatiously, but Viviel merely gestured to the small group they had joined—to Tallora’s disappointment. “A few fun people.”

The usual round of greetings ensued, with Tallora hearing names she promptly forgot. Viviel floated beside her as the conversation resumed, with a particularly brash merman telling the story of his supposed victory while wrestling an orca up north—which Viviel herself interrupted to tease, “More like you pushed it and swam away screaming.”

Laughter ensued, and the man blushed. “That’s my brother,” Viviel said quietly, rolling her eyes as he sputtered to defend his honor. “We’re visiting from Nephimil in the north.”

“So you only have a few nights to take in the sights around Stelune?” Tallora asked, and Viviel’s grin showed perfect teeth around full, gorgeous lips.

“What I’ve seen so far has been wonderful, but . . .” She winked, and Tallora felt it pulse as heat through her blood. “. . . I’m always keen for something new.”

Invitation received and accepted . . . probably. By Staella’s Grace, it was difficult to tell with women—because while Tallora would happily show her the rainbow of colors in Elanva’s Reef, she was much more interested in exploring those lips up close. There was every chance Viviel wanted to see something new ‘as a friend,’ and Tallora couldn’t guess the difference. She opened her mouth, but shut it just as quickly, instead sparing a glance for the dark sky, invisible in the jeweled light within the canyon.

She had time. She’d been late before. The stars could wait a few more minutes.

“Viviel, I hear you once swam the Halilla Passage.”

Viviel struck a victorious pose and grinned at the merman who had spoken. “I set a new record in that race,” she said, and chattered excitedly of it, but not so enthusiastically as she responded to the man’s obvious flirtation. She touched his forearm when he spoke of his own athletic exploits, twisted the locks of her hair when he praised her, and it took all Tallora’s will to keep her smile.

Dejected, Tallora announced she would be finding some bait, and left without another word.

The blissful numb the fermented bait brought was a grand temptation, but wondered if perhaps she should leave. The stars awaited, and Tallora’s soul would benefit from their cleansing love.

As she wove through the crowd, she couldn’t help but hate how the excitement in her blood had turned so bitter. Men were never shy, and women were always so damned cryptic, and while Tallora couldn’t say she had a preference, for Viviel to be so easily stolen did sting.

She spotted a table laden with the gelatinous bait, but a tap on her shoulder stopped her. Her hope surged, yet just as quickly settled back into the sand—Jessa floated behind her, and immediately said, “What did you think?” Tallora apparently blinked just a moment too long, because Jessa laughed in her face. “Of Yonel! He’s the one I wanted you to meet.”

He must have been in the group, and Tallora cursed her ridiculous heart for falling so quickly for Viviel. “Right, sorry. He seems very nice.”

“I’m telling you—you’re just his type.”

“Well, introduce us properly then,” Tallora said, offering a hand. Jessa accepted and tugged her along, back to her group of friends and to a handsome man Tallora admittedly didn’t remember.

“Yonel, remember Tallora? I was just telling you about her rendition of Tortalga the Great.”

Heat flooded Tallora’s cheeks when he laughed. “The question,” Yonel said, “is if we can get you drunk enough for an encore. Jessa won’t shut up about it.”

Tallora saw he meant it kindly and joined in his laughter, finding it a pleasant duet. “Anything is possible,” she said, catching Jessa’s exit from the corner of her eye. He chuckled and grinned as though she’d said something even remotely amusing, which meant he really was as dopey as Jessa had suggested, or that he was eating up her words—and she did adore attention.

As they spoke, Tallora reveled in his flattering words, always weak for praise. She did find his eyes rather lovely—a soft shade of blue, juxtaposing nicely with his sharp features—but not so nice as his biceps, which Jessa somehow didn’t bother to mention. She batted her eyelashes prettily. “I’m training to be a Priestess of Staella,” she said, when he asked about her life. “I’ve loved the stars since I was a little girl; my father and I used to go out at night to name constellations. He taught me how Staella painted them so we could find our way, and it lit something inside me. She was the only god I ever thought to pledge to.”

“He must be proud of your path then.”

“Oh, well I’d like to think so,” Tallora replied, keeping her smile steady. “He passed away when I was young. It’s just my mother and I now—”

Her words were stolen by a resonating melody from beyond. “It sounds like the music is starting again,” Yonel said. “Would you—”

“Tallora!”

She turned at the attention, surprised to see Viviel holding a small bit of seaweed wrapped around a bite of bait. “Were you looking for this?” Viviel asked, her grin knowing and rich with victory.

Confused, Tallora summoned a smile. “Thank you,” she replied, and accepted the gelatinous bite, savoring the sharp flavor in her mouth before swallowing it whole.

Viviel grabbed her hands, coming between she and Yonel. “Want to dance?”

Tallora bit her lip, surprised at the forward words. “I would love that,” she said, and Viviel interlaced their fingers. Tallora’s heart pulsed loudly in her ears, but her grin was unflappable, joy filling her when Viviel took them near enough for the bells to reverberate against her bones, for the music to steal all notions of time.

Viviel danced with the fluidity of a jellyfish, her graceful motions in perfect sync with the water and waves, whereas Tallora simply twirled in time, no finesse to her motions but plenty of fun. She laughed when Viviel took her by the waist and hand and spun her around. “You know what you’re doing,” Tallora said, reveling in her touch and presence.

Viviel kept a hand on her, fingers lingering wherever they touched. “I’ve got a few years of experience under my tail.”

They continued along with the excited beat, until the song suddenly slowed. Viviel stole Tallora into her arms, holding the other as they danced in slow motions, their bare breasts brushing, far more swaying than anything. Tallora relished the sensation, sensing that a trip to Elanva’s Reef would not be their final destination, when Viviel said softly, “It’s my last night in Stelune. I’ll be returning to Nephimil in the morning.”

Disappointment filled her, and Tallora pouted with about as much shame as a guppy. “That’s just too bad—”

Lips stole her words, idly brushing across her own. Tallora immediately returned the gesture, the gentle kiss an unexpected precursor to the ravishing grin upon Viviel’s face. “Like I said,” she whispered, “I think I’d like to see something new. What do you say?”

A quiet ringing in Tallora’s head said time was short, if not well and already passed, but the voice was a whisper compared to the torrent of want within her. Viviel’s eyes spelled desire, and Tallora bit her lip and nodded, giggling when she was tugged away from the dance floor. They passed dancing revelers, none of whom paid any mind to the female couple rushing away, both of them in a fit of laughter.

When the music was an idle pulse, Viviel pressed Tallora into a dark crevice. Their lips met anew, and Tallora embraced her, relishing the sensation of her body and motions. Her mouth parted for Viviel’s tongue, and a moan escaped her throat—piercing into a sharp whine when Viviel bit them. Tallora grinned, stealing her lips back as her hand gripped Viviel’s hair, adoring the gasping noise she made.

They kissed; they touched. Tallora reveled in the weight of Viviel’s breasts in her hands, savoring her moans, her cries, her heavy breaths. Passion simmered, quickly boiling, and with blown pupils, Viviel asked permission with merely a flick of her eyebrow.

Elsewhere, the party continued, the muted tones of music and distant laughter a reminder of the world, but as they settled upon the seafloor, Tallora cared only about Viviel’s alluring eyes and soft body, encouraging her hand to trail along her scales. Their tails wrapped around the other, keeping them close together, and when Viviel’s hand touched the sensitive sheath of scales covering her entrance, it gently parted for her touch.

She thought their private party a better use of time, anyway.

* * *

When their passion finally settled—though it took several rounds—Tallora’s arms burned, as did the sensual parting in her scales. She kissed Viviel with bruised lips, remiss to let her go. This wasn’t love, but it was joy, and judging by Viviel’s settling breaths and half-veiled eyes, her partner felt the same.

“You’ll tell me if you ever return to Stelune, right?” Tallora said, and Viviel grinned as she kissed her lips.

“If I do, it’ll likely be with my intended, so probably better to not.”

Viviel winked, keeping her smile, but horror settled like a weight far heavier than her sleek form against Tallora’s body. “Your intended?”

“Nobody needs to know,” Viviel said, but when she kissed Tallora’s cheek it felt oddly hollow. “I’m not married yet; no harm done.”

That wasn’t how that worked, but the deed was done. Discomfort brewed in her stomach, and while Viviel’s touch was warm, Tallora felt cold beneath it.

But as she opened her mouth, still uncertain of her words, a new dread came upon her. From the sky high above came the barest flickering of orange, and Tallora’s breath caught to realize . . . “Oh no,” she muttered.

Viviel released her, lounging luxuriously in the sand. “Everything all right?”

“I was supposed to be—” Her words caught, and unsure of how else to approach it, she kissed Viviel’s cheek and said, “I have to go.”

“Tallora—”

“It’s not you. It really is me.” When Viviel stole her lips for a final, impassioned moment, Tallora lingered, but found less enjoyment in it—with the new knowledge that this was wrong, as well as her pounding, anxious blood. When Tallora bid her farewell, Viviel blew a kiss.

With her bag slung across her shoulder, Tallora raced upwards out of the canyon, anxiety spiking as the light grew brighter. Somewhere in the back of her mind, exhaustion rang like an unwelcome visitor, but adrenaline drove her forward, and when she broke out of the water, the sunrise burst across the sky.

Cool air caressed the white locks of her hair, a delightful sensation under any other circumstances, the sunlight reflecting light against her pearlescent skin. But the stars had gone, and with them, any worshippers.

Tallora dove back beneath the waves, knowing Stelune was not far.

* * *

Tallora did not return home, but instead swam to Stelune’s center—to a magnificent temple, built from stone. In the early morning, only a few merfolk swam about—thus, no one present to witness Tallora’s panic as she rushed for the great building. With trembling fingers, she slipped her necklace over her head, then bolted straight through the open entrance to the Goddess of Star’s Temple.

A vacant hall met her, save for the high priestess herself tucking away her vestments. The older woman wore a crown not unlike Tallora’s necklace, fashioned from pearls and sea stars, but her frown marred any beauty in it. “You were absent.”

“High Priestess,” Tallora said, quickly swimming to float before her, “I . . .”

Her words faded beneath the high priestess’ scrutiny, her withering gaze passing over Tallora’s pearl-laden hair and clipped tail, all her silly, damning finery. “And what clever excuse will you have this time?”

Last time, it had been an unfortunate run-in with a dolphin, which was a lie; Tallora had forgotten and slept through it. The time before, she’d had to clean the shop after a shipment of uplander potions broke and seeped healing salves through the water—which was true, and her mother had spoken for her, but it was only one time of many piss-poor excuses she had delivered.

Shame filled her. Tallora shrunk as she muttered, “I lost track of time.”

“At least you’re honest,” the high priestess said, and then she held out an expectant hand.

Tallora stared, uncertain of what it meant, but when the high priestess beckoned, she suddenly clutched the necklace, her beloved vestment, to her chest. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am entirely serious, Tallora. It’s clear that Goddess Staella is of no priority to you. With so precious few of us, we cannot afford to invest time in a priestess who won’t accept the full responsibilities of her duties.”

Emotion welled in her throat, but though the urge to cry fought to escape, Tallora swallowed it back. Voice quivering, she said, “Please, there has to be something I can do.”

The high priestess shook her head. “It is your duty to study the stars. It is your duty to know your prayers so you may confer them upon others. If you wish to be a comfort and source of wisdom to the masses, you first must find that wisdom yourself. Perhaps you love Goddess Staella, but you aren’t willing to do what it takes.”

Now, tears did well in Tallora’s eyes, and when she removed her vestment, the first of them seeped into the water. She shook as she offered the necklace forward, fighting a sob when the high priestess accepted it. Her voice felt so small. “Can I ever try again?”

The high priestess remained silent as she studied Tallora, scrutiny in her gaze. With an unwilling sigh, she said, “In deference to our goddess’ teachings of mercy, you have one chance.”

Tallora gasped when she was handed the necklace back, her tears floating away freely now. “High Priestess, thank you—”

“One chance, Tallora.” The high priestess crossed her arms, visibly perturbed. “Tonight, you will recite your prayers on the surface alone. You will not miss another dark moon, otherwise you’re done—”

Tallora hugged her, repetitions of, “Thank you, thank you, thank you . . .” on her lip. When she pulled away from her startled superior, she said, “I won’t disappoint you.”

“It’s Staella you don’t wish to disappoint,” the high priestess said, and Tallora swam away joyously, relief flooding her, numbing her arms and tail.

Staella was a kind goddess, known for mercy and a soft-spoken word, which made the idea of disappointing her all the more distressing.

As Tallora twirled in the water, clutching her beloved vestment, her happiness was cut short by a damning realization: She would have to tell her mother.

And while disappointing Staella was an awful thought, disappointing her mother—revealing that she had lied—felt so much worse.

For all her relief, there came the obligatory moment of self-reflection.

Tallora slowed, her body idly floating in the waters above Stelune. She gazed upon her vestments, no doubt in her heart that it was what she wanted. It brought peace unparalleled—unlike parties, which usually brought fun but at times like these, left her feeling cold and lonelier than before.

She was rather lonely, when she considered it. But she shoved that thought aside, preferring to dwell on the task ahead. Tonight, she would redeem herself. The sky would be dark, the stars would shine, and Tallora, alone, would pray to Staella’s sacred name.

In the meantime, Tallora swam home, heart fully sunk as she prepared for castigation.

Will Tallora redeem herself and resume her quest to become a priestess?

Or does fate have something different in store?

Find out in the epic first installment of the Sea and Stars Trilogy: The Fate of Stars! You can check it here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086KTLSNM

A devout mermaid. A disgraced princess. A feud as ancient as the gods.

Worlds collide when Tallora is kidnapped from her ocean home and forced to be a pet to a tyrannical foreign empire. Her only hope for rescue lies with a sworn enemy—Princess Dauriel, infamous for her stone heart and conflicted past. But when Dauriel’s kingdom comes to the cusp of war, could their uneasy alliance be the key to defeating a common foe? Or will their tenuous feelings for each other lead them to ruin?

From the world of FALLEN GODS comes a tale of ancient magic and cutthroat politics—and finding redemption through love.

About the author:

S D Simper has lived in both the hottest place on earth and the coldest, spans the employment spectrum from theatre teacher to professional editor, and plays more instruments than can be counted on one hand. She and her beloved wife share a home with their two cats and innumerable bookshelves.

Visit her website at sdsimper.com to see her other works, including The Sting of Victory, the dark, romantic tale of a girl who falls in love with a monster.