The sea didn't speak. But it stirred.
Elara sat at the edge of a glowing reef, legs folded beneath her, thoughts drifting like tidefoam. Behind her, the marketplace buzzed softly again - voices hushed, distant, afraid. But no one came close.
She was no longer invisible.
But she wasn't welcome either.
Kaelen curled beside her like a question mark made of starlight, his glowing little body shifting with the current. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His presence was comfort enough.
Elara rested a hand gently on his back.
"It's strange," she murmured, "how the sea feels more alive than the world I left."
She wasn't expecting an answer.
But one came.
"I didn't think your kind still existed."
The voice was calm. Not cold. Not kind. Curious.
Elara turned.
A figure hovered just a few lengths away - tall, lean, and still as carved obsidian. He wasn't standing on the coral but floated effortlessly, his black hair drifting with the tide, short and tousled. His blue eyes shimmered like early morning beneath a stormcloud.
She tensed.
He didn't come closer.
"I've heard stories," he said, voice low. "Of your people. Of a mark that once lit the sea like fire."
Elara's gaze dropped to her shoulder. The sigil - pale silver, delicate - curled across her skin like a forgotten truth.
"You know what it means?"
He shook his head.
"No one truly does. Most think it's just a myth."
She studied him. There was no fear in his expression - only wonder.
Like someone looking at something thought lost forever.
"Who are you?" she asked quietly.
He hesitated.
"Dravion."
No title. No explanation.
Just that.
Elara nodded once.
"Elara."
They watched each other a moment longer. Then, cautiously, he swam closer - slow, deliberate. His presence didn't unsettle the current.
"I won't hurt you," he said. "The sea's been... restless. Currents misbehaving. Creatures wandering where they shouldn't. The elders say something's stirring."
She tilted her head.
"Because of me?"
He shrugged.
"Maybe. Or maybe... you're just part of what's coming."
The water hummed faintly around them - a silence stretched between their words, not uncomfortable, but uncertain.
Kaelen stirred beside her, letting out a faint trill.
Dravion's eyes shifted.
"It bonded with you?"
"I think so," she said. "He found me. Or I found him. I named him Kaelen."
He nodded, as if the name meant something - or maybe he simply liked how she said it.
She rose slowly, hair floating around her in glowing strands. Her gown moved like mist in the water.
"You don't look surprised," she said softly.
He offered a faint smile.
"I think I was waiting for the sea to change. And maybe... it just did."
Elara stepped closer, her voice low and fragile.
"I died."
"In my world. I don't know how... but I think this place brought me back."
Dravion's eyes sharpened slightly. Not in anger. In realization.
"You're not from here," he said. "Not just another merfolk."
"I'm human," she admitted. "Or... I was."
He blinked.
"Then how are you breathing?"
"I don't know." Her voice trembled. "But I have this mark. And I keep hearing things - songs I don't remember learning. Words I shouldn't understand. But I do."
He didn't move.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"Away from here. Some parts of the reef are not safe anymore. Creatures are acting strangely. Things have begun to awaken - things no one understands."
She hesitated. But then nodded.
And so they swam - side by side - through coral arches and ancient ridges, past pearl-lit tunnels and glowing vines that shimmered with forgotten magic.
Kaelen followed silently, his glow faint but warm, never drifting far.
"You said the elders felt something stirring?" she asked as they glided deeper.
"Yes," he replied. "Something dark. Something... old. Some think it's the sea itself mourning. Others think something's returning."
He paused.
"But none of them spoke of a girl with a mark."
"There was no prophecy?"
"Only fading stories," he said. "About a race that disappeared. Magic that once held the sea in balance."
He glanced at her, eyes unreadable.
"But no one expected you."
Elara didn't reply.
The world she'd left felt like a dream now - dull, gray, heavy. This one... sang. It was dangerous. Unknown. But it called to her.
Dravion gestured for her to follow as they reached the edge of a reef that sloped into darkness.
"Don't wander too far from the lights," he said. "Some parts of the sea don't forgive curiosity."
Elara gave a small nod.
"And you?"
He blinked.
"Do you forgive it?"
His lips curled into a faint smirk.
"I guess we'll find out."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
They drifted onward.
And though neither of them said it, the sea listened.
Elara floated beside Dravion, their path winding through coral arches and light-filtered tunnels that shimmered like the inside of pearls. Every turn revealed something new - a garden of jellyfish pulsing with slow rhythm, statues carved into rock with features worn smooth by time, and a temple up ahead glowing faintly with ancient magic.
The reef shimmered around her like a dream made of glass — too delicate, too strange. Elara floated just behind Dravion, her steps slow, careful. The path beneath them coiled between coral outcrops that glowed in faint hues of rose and aquamarine. Strange fish swam lazily past, undisturbed by their presence.
"This part of the reef isn't visited much," Dravion said, voice low. "Even locals tend to avoid it."
"Why?" she asked.
He hesitated. "They say it listens."
Elara blinked. "Listens?"
He didn't answer — only gestured ahead.
The path opened into a hollow chamber carved by time and tide. There was no roof, only the open veil of sea stretching above. In the centre of the chamber lay a vast basin — motionless, smooth as polished glass. No current stirred it. No creature approached. The silence felt... watchful.
Elara stepped closer.
Her heart stilled.
The water in the basin wasn't just still — it was wrong. It reflected nothing. Not the reef. Not the light. Not even her face.
She knelt beside it.
"Don't touch it," Dravion warned quietly behind her. "It's one of the oldest relics in the reef. They call it the Memory Pool."
The name echoed through her.
Her fingers hovered above the surface. A chill kissed her skin — not cold, but ancient. A presence. Something beneath. Watching.
Then the water moved.
Not like a ripple.
Like breath.
The pool inhaled — and the world exhaled.
Before she could react, tendrils of invisible force curled around her — not dragging her body, but her soul. Her breath caught. Her eyes widened.
"Elara—" Dravion's voice blurred.
The sea folded in.
And she fell.
She wasn't drowning.
She was drifting.
Downward, inward — into a depth that wasn't ocean but memory.
Light flickered around her — fractured, golden, familiar. She tried to speak, but her voice was swallowed by silence. Images swirled. Sounds too faint to catch echoed just beyond reach.
Then — a melody.
Soft. Gentle.
A lullaby, sung in a voice that wrapped the water like silk — tender, soothing, timeless.
She turned — or thought she did — and saw them.
A woman with long hair the color of deep tide. A man cloaked in silver flame.
They were holding something.
A baby.
The woman was singing, swaying ever so slightly, her eyes on the child. The man stood beside her, an arm wrapped around her shoulders — protective, proud. In his free hand, a crystal pendant shimmered: a spiral shell encased in molten silver.
She had seen it before. In a dream.
The woman turned.
Their eyes met.
And Elara knew.
She had seen that face — not in mirrors, but in the corners of forgotten sleep. A face that had watched her in silence, across lifetimes.
Her lips parted. A question tried to form.
But the memory did not wait.
The vision dissolved — pulled into mist and song.
And a whisper touched her ear.
"Live."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
She awoke with a gasp.
Dravion was crouched beside her, his hand steadying her shoulder.
"Elara," he breathed, relief flickering across his face. "You fainted. Are you—?"
She sat up slowly, still dazed. The memory was already slipping like seafoam through her fingers.
"I saw…" Her voice trembled. "I don't know. A woman. A man. A song I've only ever heard in dreams."
Kaelen nuzzled against her side, glowing faintly—comforting.
Dravion helped her to her feet, his grip firm but gentle.
"You touched the memory pool," he said. "Most never survive that. But you…"
She didn't respond. Her mind was still caught between past and present.
"You shouldn't be out here again tonight," Dravion said. "Come. There's a place not far—quiet, safe. It belonged to an old traveler who never returned."
He guided her slowly to a coral structure nestled near the cliffs. The home was simple—woven coral walls, soft light orbs that drifted like fireflies, a bed of sea-silk fronds that glowed faintly.
It wasn't much. But it felt like sanctuary.
"It's yours, if you want it," he said softly.
Elara stared at the place—then at him.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because the sea listens. And I... always hear its cries."
He turned to leave, the current swaying his cloak behind him.
"Rest. You'll need strength for what's to come."
And with that, he was gone — leaving Elara in silence again.
And for the first time since her descent… the silence wasn't hollow.
It felt like breath — held, waiting. Like the sea remembered something she had yet to learn.
She didn't know the names of those in the vision.
But her soul did.
As the shimmer of the reef flickered around her, Elara closed her eyes.
Not at peace. But no longer drifting.
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
Far away, in a chamber lit only by soulfire and seastone, Vaelros stood before a great shell — its open lips reflecting not pearls… but visions.
Within its shimmer, Elara floated. Her presence tugged at something deep in him.
Zeirith, his shadow-serpent, slithered up his arm and hissed low.
"The Sigil of Niraya," it rasped in a tongue only Vaelros understood.
He did not reply. His gaze remained locked on the girl within the vision.
"It was meant to be extinct."
A flicker passed in his eyes — not rage, not fear. Something softer. Older.
"So was she," he murmured. "And yet…"
Zeirith coiled tighter, the shell's surface rippling with unrest.
"Do you… know her?"
Vaelros's voice was cold.
"No."
A pause. Then quieter:
"But something in her… sings of the past I tried to bury."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧