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."
They drifted onward.
And though neither of them said it, the sea listened.
And far below - in the cracks of the ancient trenches - something stirred in return.