Chapter 43: Chapter 44: The First Question – A Riddle

“Answering riddles? That’s great!” Ariel thought, her heart lifting with joy. She introduced Rhine to the Sea Hag with confidence:

“This silver-haired human boy is a learned scholar. I doubt there’s any question he can’t answer.”

At least it’s not some trial of fighting sea monsters or gouging out eyes… Ariel mused with relief.

The Sea Hag scoffed.

“I’ve been to the world above the sea and met many so-called learned human scholars—most of them wrinkled old men or stubborn pedants.

“I’ve asked this very riddle to hundreds of self-proclaimed know-it-alls. None of them could answer it. Every last one failed on the first question.”

“So the first question is already that hard,” Rhine said, his expression growing serious.

The Sea Hag cleared her throat, stroking her fat water snake, and declared in a sharp voice:

“Here are the rules.

“The first question is a riddle. I will recite the riddle, and you must give the correct answer.

“If you fail to answer the first question, there’s no point in proceeding to the next ones, as they all build upon it.

“You have three chances to answer incorrectly, and you must provide the correct answer within one minute of the riddle’s recital. If you fail, I will never reveal Maleficent’s whereabouts to you, no matter how many times you return.

“Now, listen carefully. This is a riddle that has stumped countless wise men!”

Two chances to err.

A one-minute time limit.

Such harsh conditions!

Ariel, still trying to grasp the game’s rules, was stunned as the Sea Hag began the riddle:

“In the human world, there exists a precious treasure:

“No one can see it, yet countless poems and writings praise it;

“No one can touch it, yet it can be polluted and cleansed;

“It is lighter than the wind, yet more valuable than gold;

“Softer than mist, yet it endures through the ages, never fading away;

“Humans on land possess it, but merfolk and other sea-dwelling beings do not;

“And the strangest, most peculiar thing about this treasure is—

“It is more important to the dead than the living.

“Now, my wise friends, tell me, what is this treasure?”

The Sea Hag recited the riddle as if it were a poem.

Ariel was astonished by its strangeness.

“This is so unfair! Such a weird riddle!” she thought, feeling indignant on behalf of her new friends.

“If it were me, even if given months, I wouldn’t be able to figure it out… Wait, hold on!”

Ariel shivered slightly as a memory surfaced—she felt as if she had recently heard something about the answer.

As soon as the riddle ended, Rhine’s eyes sharpened, as though he had a hunch.

“Fifty seconds,” the Sea Hag announced, beginning her countdown.

Aurora’s mind raced.

“Something humans have that merfolk don’t… What could it be?”

“Legs? No, that’s not right. Legs are visible. The riddle describes something intangible.”

“Something without form… What could it be?”

Aurora’s thoughts blurred. The blessing that had enhanced her learning and memory wasn’t helping her navigate this improvisational challenge.

“Thirty seconds,” the Sea Hag intoned coldly, her countdown striking Aurora like a gong and further jarring her thoughts.

“An intangible treasure. Courage? Or perhaps kindness or some other virtue?”

Her mind turned to mush as she instinctively connected the riddle to abstract concepts.

“Courage and kindness can’t be seen or touched, and they’re certainly valuable,” she reasoned.

“But can such virtues endure through the ages?”

“Oh, of course—they can! Individuals may pass, but their spirit can live on!”

Aurora shouted confidently:

“It must be some positive spiritual quality, like courage, justice, or kindness!”

She suspected the answer was a specific concept, such as “courage.” But to cover her bases, Aurora deliberately framed her answer vaguely, hoping the Sea Hag might accept it as correct without using up their second chance. ṜàΝỐβĚⱾ

“Wrong answer,” the Sea Hag declared icily.

Her next words struck like a bolt of lightning:

“Twenty seconds. You now have one chance left!”

“No, that’s not it. The answer isn’t an abstract virtue,” Rhine interjected firmly. “Abstract virtues clearly don’t fit the riddle’s last two lines.”

“Fifteen seconds,” the Sea Hag pronounced, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Aurora quickly realized where her reasoning had gone wrong.

Neither courage, justice, kindness, nor wisdom were uniquely human qualities—how could anyone deny that merfolk might also possess these virtues?

Aurora should have realized the flaw in her reasoning sooner. But the strict time limit had pressured the 10-year-old into making a mistake born of anxiety.

Clenching her fists tightly, her palms sweating, Aurora paced frantically.

“Could such a thing really exist?”

“Something intangible, unseen and untouchable, that humans have but merfolk do not—a treasure more important to the dead than the living.”

Her instincts made her question the validity of the riddle itself.

Was this sea witch deliberately presenting an unsolvable puzzle to avoid making the trade?

“Ten seconds!”

The relentless countdown continued mercilessly.

Suddenly, Ariel’s tightly furrowed brow relaxed. She raised her hand abruptly and exclaimed:

“I—I know the answer!”

What? Ariel had guessed it?

Aurora’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. The gentle and refined mermaid princess was neither a learned scholar nor a particularly quick thinker. Could the riddle’s answer be something that a typical human might overlook but that held profound significance for Ariel due to her unique experiences?

Perhaps the answer was something Ariel had only recently encountered.

Aurora’s panicked heart eased slightly:

If Ariel had figured out the answer, then the riddle would be solved. She would have to remember to thank the mermaid princess properly later.

“The answer is… the answer is…” Ariel began to declare.

“Stop!”

The Sea Hag’s sharp voice cut her off.

“Princess, this riddle is for the two humans. You are not allowed to answer or give them any hints.”

Ariel had no choice but to swallow her words, her anxiety growing unbearable. At some point, she had come to fully accept these two human friends and now fretted over their success as if it were her own.

“Why? Why can’t I give them the answer when I’ve already figured it out?” Ariel lamented inwardly.

This answer wasn’t something people on land would know! Even Ariel herself had only recently learned certain secrets from her Grand Matron that had illuminated the solution for her.

It was over. Completely over.

Ariel despaired. She knew that the prerequisite knowledge needed to solve this riddle was an obscure secret. How could humans from the surface world possibly know it?

Meanwhile, Aurora, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, felt her heart tighten again as she heard the Sea Hag forbidding Ariel to speak. She instinctively turned to her teacher.

Rhine, resting his cheek on his hand, showed no visible reaction.

“Of course. No wonder Ariel knows the answer,” Rhine said. It was unclear whether he was hinting to Aurora or merely speaking to himself.

The Sea Hag resumed her cold countdown.

“Five seconds remaining. You’re about to lose, humans.”

So the answer must be something Ariel held dear?

Aurora, grasping at straws as defeat loomed, shouted out a desperate answer:

“Love! Is the answer love? Oh, specifically, human love for mermaids!”

She emphasized the notion of human love for mermaids, reasoning that this was something humans possessed but merfolk did not.

In the instant she shouted her answer, Aurora’s body trembled.

She thought she had solved it.

An overwhelming joy surged through her heart:

Yes, love was invisible yet celebrated in countless poems and songs. It was untouchable, yet it could be polluted or purified.

Love, having no physical form, was lighter than wind and softer than mist!

It was also a treasure more valuable than gold, one that could endure through the ages and be immortalized in records and stories.

And wasn’t Ariel currently yearning for love with a human prince? “Human love for mermaids” perfectly fit the riddle’s criteria!

It all lined up. Completely lined up!

In that fleeting second, Aurora’s thoughts raced. She felt a wave of relief as if she had survived a catastrophe.

“Did I get it right?”

“Surely this is it?”

“Thank goodness I answered it in the final three seconds!”

Aurora looked expectantly at the Sea Hag, who had fallen silent. Surely the judge would now announce her answer as correct.

But when the Sea Hag heard “human love for mermaids,” she froze in place, her eyes widening slightly, as if transformed into a statue.

The next moment, she announced flatly,

“Wrong answer.”

The final chance had been wasted.

In that instant, Aurora realized her mistake. The riddle’s last line flashed through her mind:

“This treasure is more important to the dead than to the living.”

Love didn’t fit the criteria.

“Love is clearly more important to the living than the dead. If someone is dead, then love holds little significance,” Aurora thought. “Even for those who value love deeply, it would hold equal importance to both the living and the dead—not greater importance to the dead.”

Aurora’s heart plummeted.

With two seconds remaining, the Sea Hag was poised to declare their failure. Aurora could think of no better answer.

Seeing Aurora’s expression of despair, the Sea Hag smirked.

From the start, she hadn’t expected the humans to solve the riddle. Simply knowing the prerequisite knowledge to answer it was rare enough—let alone actually cracking it.

Then, in that moment, a crisp, confident voice rang out:

“An immortal soul.”