Well if there was one word to describe Anandi, it would be adventurous. Life in that twilight kingdom of her youth was simple and it was good and adventure was a foreign concept to those blessed creatures, who never had a need in their lives that was not met. There is a reason that she, of all her sisters, was chosen to voyage to the surface. It was not her age, or her charms, or her mind. It was her daring, her natural drive to not just take calculated risks because she had to but because she enjoyed taking them.
If we take a step back, there are many ways this sense of daring defies her upbringing. She was raised to be calculated, and there is a high risk of danger with every adventure. She was raised to be cautious, yet adventure requires a high degree of daring. So. This sense of adventure, where did it come from?
Perhaps only the ocean knows.
All we know is that for all her elegance and her regal disposition, at her core there is something childlike and wholesome, a Sense of Wonder that most have shed long before reaching adulthood. She clings to this naivete, for she is terribly afraid of what she would be without it.
Of course, she is no storybook hero, no flawless paper doll cut out and placed in a perfect paper-mache world. She has been doted on since the day she was born, and as a result she has grown haughty and arrogant. And, of course, wildly outspoken-- for why would a princess ever be afraid to speak her mind? Used to getting what she wants, when she wants it, she is impatient and brash. In short, she is mercurial; not always a nightmare, but more than capable of becoming one at a moment's notice.
Princess Anandi was the second youngest of seven sisters. They were all born and raised in the twilight zone of the sea, where sunlight is a dark shade of blue. Hers was a reclusive and secretive herd of kelpie, which had long ago moved to deeper waters in order to escape predation by some of the larger, more aggressive clans. By becoming filter feeders and scavengers their days could be spent devoted to culture instead of hunting, music and socialization instead of endless anticipation of the next meal.
As the years passed, unexpected problems arose in that twilight kingdom. There were not enough males. Anandi and her seven sisters did not have any brothers. They did not have any male cousins. None of them were married, because there was no one for them to marry. When their father passed, there would be no new children born.
They were facing extinction.
What followed was a long and drawn out process that we will not go over in detail. In the end, it was decided that Anandi would go to to the surface. To find and bring back a suitable king for her eldest sister. It was her idea, although it took what felt like ages to convince the rest of her family that it was a good one. There was much blue-blooded deliberation, many tears (quite pointless, in the ocean) and far too many arguements, but eventually they all came around. She took two days to prepare and say her farewells, and then she departed.
Traveling to the surface was not as easy as you would think. Anandi was not a whale, evolved over millennia for deep dives. She was strong for her kind, in mind and body, but she was still so delicate. In the twilight zone there were hardly any currents to swim against. It took months of slowly rising to accustom herself to sunlight and develop the muscle needed to swim against the currents at the surface. She had to learn how to hunt on her own, and different prey from what she was used to.
When she finally reached the surface, it was a wild shock to feel the air on her cheeks and in her lungs. She had reached a new world, and although she had a mission to accomplish-- although she was fighting against extinction of her people-- she found she could not stay single minded. There was simply too much to see and feel and taste and do.