As the temple doors slid open with a rush of current, Elara blinked against the shifting light. Then froze.
It hovered just beyond the steps, vast and silent: the Seaglider.
Not just a creature—a marvel. A massive jellyfish, its dome wide as a reef-home, hovered serenely in the water. Its surface shimmered in layers of moonlit blue and soft pearl, not glowing, but quietly radiant—as though it didn't seek attention. It simply was graceful. Ethereal. Unforgettable.
Long, elegant tendrils drifted beneath it, each one swaying gently, graceful and alive, moving with the weightless poise of silk. Some of them shifted as if sensing their presence.
Piphi, already halfway down the steps, beamed at Elara. "Told you she was real."
One tendril stretched toward them—then curled downward, the tip flattening like a ribbon. A soft hole opened at its end, revealing a tunnel of gently rippling flesh that seemed like an underwater throat breathing air.
"She's calm today," Piphi said. "Go on. She'll carry you."
Elara stared. "You mean I go in there?"
Before anyone could answer, the tendril moved—and sucked her in.
She yelped. It wasn't painful. Just sudden. Like being slurped into a soft water slide, but in an upward direction. She felt herself rising upwards, the walls around her cool and cushion-y, like drifting through jello.
Then—light.
The tunnel released her into a wide chamber within the dome.
She gasped.
The chamber within softly lit, like a dream. glowing veins all over the inner walls making the inside all beautiful and magical, and mushroom-shaped seats—sponged and strange—were clustered in soft groups. Everything swayed just a little, cradled by the creature's natural motion.
Elara dropped onto one of the seats and bounced slightly, laughing.
"This mushroom stool is so soft and bouncy—"
"Tidecaps," Piphi corrected as she was suctioned in next. "Technically fungal domes. But yeah, stools work."
Kaelen followed, tail flicking. "Why does everything smell like squishy?"
"That's not a smell," Elara chuckled. "It's just… a vibe."
As the others settled, the tendril sealed behind them, and the Seaglider began its descent.
From within, the dome's layers shimmered like transparent windows. The sea outside unfolded in waves of light and shadow.
A whale passed close, and Elara gasped, pressing to the curve of the dome to watch. Schools of fish twisted by in streams of colour. Far below, a seahorse curled around coral, laying its eggs in soft beats.
She instinctively covered Kaelen's eyes. "Not for you, baby barnacle."
"Ugh," he muttered. "I wasn't even looking."
Elara laughed, leaning back into the soft dome wall. A strange emotion rose up—one she didn't recognise at first.
Contentment.
After a pause, she murmured, "I used to dream of flying in an airplane. Or riding a ship. Never got to."
Piphi leaned forward. "What's an airplane?"
"In my world... they were giant bird-shaped machines that flew in the sky. Submarines drove under the sea, like metal fish."
Kaelen wrinkled his snout. "What's with all this airplane and submarine nonsense? Sounds cold and ugly."
Piphi tilted her head. "Sounds cramped."
"They were," Elara said, smiling. "But I never got to ride either. Life was… hard."
She looked around. "And now I'm riding a jellyfish taxi to the palace of merfolk. Honestly, it feels like I skipped a few chapters of my story."
Kaelen wriggled into her lap. "You're in the best chapter now."
Piphi nodded. "You're not flying anymore, Elara. You're gliding. The sea's got its own way of carrying dreams."
They rode gently, the world outside drifting like a moving painting and after an hour of the journey, they arrived at The palace.
Elara straightened her back.
The Seaglider slowed, its tendrils lowering again like ribbons in reverence.
She touched her hair, brushed off her dress.
"Ready?" Piphi asked.
Elara took a breath.
"Let's go meet the royals."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
The Seaglider drifted to a smooth stop, its tendrils curling upward as if releasing a long-held breath. They slid out like a sea slide out of the legs of the seaglider and landed straight onto a wide platform, just like how the ship would leave its passengers on the harbour.
She took a step forward, blinking at the sight.
The palace stretched before her — not just stone and coral, but something more intricate. The entire platform, along with the road ahead, was paved in patterned shells and smooth marble, fused seamlessly into the ocean floor.
Spiral towers of pale reef-stone rose from the seabed, their tips catching filtered light from above. The walls shimmered faintly with coloured stones and shell-glass, and archways curved like open fins.
It was grand, but not cold.
Alive, like it had been grown rather than built.
Piphi floated ahead with a grin. "Welcome to The Palace of Tides."
Elara stared, quiet.
"It's beautiful," she said under her breath.
Kaelen paddled around her shoulder, squinting at the guards stationed at the entrance.
"Bit showy."
Two sentries hovered in front of the main gate — tall, their armour sleek with mirror-scale plating. They held tridents, but didn't speak. They only dipped their heads in a silent welcome as the group passed.
"I thought the tridents were meant to be sacred and only held by the sea king," Elara muttered.
Piphi laughed. "Those are just stories from the human world. Tridents are just weapons— no more magical than spears. The Sea King doesn't need to carry anything flashy to show his power."
"That does make sense," Elara muttered.
"Guess I've always been living on the wrong shore."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
The path ahead was made of smooth reef tiles in pale blues and soft whites. Glowing stones lined the walkway, leading them through an open corridor framed by flowering coral. Strange fish darted between the archways, their fins catching the light like silk.
Elara couldn't help it.
She smiled.
In her world, she'd only seen castles in books or animated movies. Never thought she'd walk through one. Never like this.
They moved toward the central hall — a large open dome at the heart of the palace lit with faint light from the jelly-fish lamps.
It felt sacred, even though no one said a word.
As they approached further, Piphi glanced back. "The Queen's Seer is inside. She's been waiting for you."
Elara's smile faded a little.
Of course. This wasn't just a visit. She was here for something much bigger.
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
Far from the palace, Dalila woke up from her dream, gasping for breath, heart pounding.
She had heard the voice calling onto her "You wish to know the deepest secrets of the sea?"
The sea around her was still. No light flickered beyond the dome. No voices. No creature moving. Just the gentle hum of deep current.
And yet—
She heard it.
"You wish to know the deepest secrets of the sea?"
It hadn't been a dream.
Not fully.
The voice had come like a whisper folded in water—ancient, frayed, but terribly aware. It didn't echo. It didn't beg. It simply asked… as if it already knew her answer.
Dalila pressed her fingers to her temples.
"No," she whispered. "Just remnants... echoes from that cursed memory pool trying to pull me back under."
But it wasn't the first time.
Each night, the same phrase. Each time, it grew clearer.
And now… she'd begun seeing things.
A temple—not the one whispered by seers or worshipped by tidebound cults. This was older. Abandoned. Drowned long before even the Sea King's reign. Its structure came in pieces through her sleep—columns half-swallowed by sand, murals of forgotten gods, shattered altars littered with bones.
And in front of that temple, sometimes, she saw Elara.
Standing over Dalila's lifeless form. Eyes aglow. Hair drifting like seaweed in sacred tide.
In one dream, Elara wept. In another... she laughed.
Dalila clenched her fists.
She couldn't stand that name anymore.
Elara.
The sigil bearing girl who kept surviving. Who somehow made Vaelros hesitate. Who made even the whispers in the deep pause when they spoke of her.
Dalila wanted her gone.
No—she needed her gone.
From the shadows beyond the broken doorway, a movement stirred. A creature slithered forward—long, black-skinned, eyes too many, teeth too white. A Hadalborn. One of Vaelros's spawn.
Dalila didn't flinch.
"You heard it too, didn't you?" she murmured.
The creature let out a guttural hum. Not words, not speech—just a sense of dark emotion. Agreement.
She stepped forward, resting her hand on its snout. Its skin was slick and cold, like wet bone.
"I need to find the meaning behind these dreams," she said. "Take me to the old witch."
The creature pulled back, then lowered itself to the ground.
Dalila climbed onto its back—like a beast-rider from old blood-sagas. Not graceful. Not royal. Just practical. And dangerous. Her hair drifted behind her like a storm cloud as the Hadalborn surged forward, down into the trenches.
The waters darkened around them.
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧