The Sea Witch

Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was a princess of the sea. Her father was Poseidon, king of the ocean, ruler of all seas. Her mother was Amphitrite, goddess of the royal waters. She was born on the first full moon of spring with bright red hair that matched the coral after which her mother named her, Rhodes. She had an easy childhood, as one might imagine a princess would have. She could have anything she wanted. But all she wanted was her birthright, the throne. She, the first-born princess, was promised to one day rule her kingdom with the wisdom her father gave her. But on her 8th birthday, she was promised a present. A present she could never have prepared herself for. She was given a brother. Her mother beamed with joy carrying the crying infant as Rhodes watched with despair. His hair was gold, the same shade as his father’s trident after which he was named, Triton. As her parents embraced their son, she watched her dreams slip away. She knew that the throne would only be hers if she, the first-born, did not have a brother. The throne will always be passed down to the first-born son, the daughter is just an afterthought. She tried to be excited about her new brother, and she tried to be happy about the destiny he would soon inherit. But she couldn’t forget that it was supposed to be her destiny.

The years passed. He grew up. Each day, he grew closer to the throne as their father grew closer to his grave. She watched as he grew with a confidence, with an entitlement that he, the son, deserved all he was promised. It did not matter that she did better in school, that she was more patient, that she spent every Saturday with the sick and poor while he lazed around and complained that his cot was too soft. He would be king, and she would be the sister of the king. She tried to love him, she tried to be proud of him, but every day he reminded her that no matter what she did, no matter how good she was, no matter if she was better, he would always win. It was his birthright.

On her 18th birthday, she asked her father why it was his birthright, why he, a son, was more entitled to this destiny than she, his daughter. In that instant, she saw her father change. The father that raised her, that once promised her his kingdom, banished her. He cursed her. Her bright red hair turned an ashy white, her once bright green scaly tail transformed into six black tentacles. “From now on, you are not Rhodes. You are not my daughter. You are Ursula, the Sea Witch.” She stared at her newly purple skin, and wept while she tried to learn how to move with her new limbs. As she left the kingdom, she turned around to see her family for one last time. All she saw was her mother who stared at her with a blank look of disappointment that masked a solemn gaze of empathy.

Hannah Urisman, 2022

Prose