The sea held her like it remembered.
Elara awoke slowly, her body weightless, cradled in an endless warmth that didn't burn. Light rippled through the water above her, silver and gold weaving together like threads of a dream. For a moment, she didn't move. She didn't speak.
She simply floated.
Her limbs drifted gently, like leaves caught in soft current. Her long mint green hair—longer now than she remembered—swayed around her, glowing faintly in the filtered sunlight. And her eyes, once dulled by sorrow, shimmered pink with a light they had never known.
Was this death?
Or something else?
She glanced at her shoulder.
There, etched in pale silver, was a strange, intricate mark. At its base, a shell — spiraled and delicate. Wings curled from the center like those of a forest moth. A flicker of flame rose at the top, and vines wove through it all, binding each symbol together.
It didn't glow.
It didn't pulse.
It simply waited.
Elara swam forward.
Or perhaps the water moved with her. It felt... aware. Guiding her. All around her, the sea shimmered like a living painting. Coral arches rose like cathedrals. Glowing fronds swayed in liquid rhythm. Strange, beautiful creatures passed by, some gazing with curious eyes. None approached.
But none turned away.
She drifted into a marketplace alive with soft currents and glowing colours. Floating stalls carved from shell and glass hovered along a ribbon of light. Vendors sold scale-dust paints, whispering pearls, silk spun from sea threads, and jars of captured songlight.
Merfolk drifted between the stalls, their shimmering tails catching flashes of light with every movement. Some had translucent fins like flowing silk, others scaled armor woven into their skin. They moved with elegance — like the sea belonged to them.
Elara, still human in shape, felt every difference. She had no fin. No shimmer. Just bare legs, pale skin, and a mark none of them had seen in lifetimes.
Their voices reached her clearly. Words she shouldn't have understood... but somehow did.
As if the sea itself was translating for her.
A group of children giggled as a performer shaped glowing water into sea creatures that danced through the current. One of the creatures fluttered close to Elara, brushing her arm with gentle warmth.
Then they noticed her.
"That mark..." a voice whispered.
"It hasn't been seen in generations."
Elara froze.
The music stopped. Laughter quieted. Some vendors pulled their curtains. Others simply stared.
Their gazes weren't cruel. But they weren't kind.
They weren't afraid of her — they were afraid of what she might mean.
"She bears the forgotten sigil..."
"Like the ones in the old stories."
"But that bloodline was lost... it couldn't have survived."
Elara kept moving.
Wrapped in a gown that floated like mist, barefoot in a world that looked too magical to hold pain, she said nothing. But her heart pounded louder than it ever had on land.
She was not invisible here.
But she wasn't welcome either.
She wandered to the edge of the reefline and sat on a smooth ledge of glowing coral. Below her, the sea faded into twilight.
Beside her curled a small creature — no larger than her forearm — with a softly glowing body and translucent fins that shimmered like silk in the current. It had followed her since she'd awakened. Now it floated close, its head resting gently against her wrist.
She smiled faintly, a tear slipping free.
"You're still here," she whispered.
"You're the only one who hasn't looked at me like I don't belong."
She reached out and brushed her fingers against its fin. The creature hummed softly in response — a sound like warmth.
"Kaelen," she whispered, choosing the name like a secret.
"If I'm going to be lost... then I need something that's mine."
The creature blinked once, then pressed closer — as if it understood.
For the first time, she let herself breathe.
Maybe she wasn't dead.
Maybe... she had survived something worse.
And high above — hovering at the edge of a coral spire — a figure watched her.
He did not speak.
He did not move.
His hair caught the faint light.
His eyes shimmered with quiet intensity.
He simply watched.
Dravion.
But she did not know his name.
Not yet.
She only felt the chill of being seen.
And somewhere deep beneath the sea, something ancient turned its gaze toward her.