I expected a tour.
Maybe a magical underwater sightseeing session like,
"To your left, the royal kelp gardens."
What I got was: current.
A strong one.
Strong enough to drag my hair into knots and slam me face-first into the seabed.
Kaelen didn't even look back.
"Keep up, human-legs. The capital's this way. Unless you'd like to be eaten by a reef crab. They love clueless wanderers."
"Thanks for the motivation," I muttered, paddling harder.
The Sea Realm pulsed with an energy that felt alive.
Not just glowing — breathing.
The currents shimmered like floating ribbons.
Light spilled from crystals wedged in stone.
Fish darted past us, their scales throwing off sparks like living stars.
One rainbow-colored fish swam by slowly, narrowed its eyes at me, then swished away with judgment.
"…Okay, that one glared at me," I whispered.
"You probably offended it by existing," Kaelen said cheerfully. "Welcome to Uverra — Sea Kingdom of Light. The capital is Tirazaek. Very old. Very political. Very likely to gossip you into an identity crisis."
"Tirazaek," I repeated. It sounded like a perfume brand or a spell that could curse your entire bloodline.
Ahead, an arch of coral rose like a spine. Floating above it in glowing script:
"ALL WHO ENTER, CARRY NO SECRETS."
A chill slid down my arms.
"That's… not unsettling at all."
Kaelen snorted. "Ceremonial nonsense. Nobles lie with a straight face. It's practically a sport."
I stared at the words longer than I meant to.
Carry no secrets.
I had enough to fill an encyclopedia — even if most of them were secrets from myself.
"What exactly am I walking into?" I murmured.
Kaelen flicked his tail sharply. "A city on edge. A throne under pressure. And a whole realm that hasn't seen a human in… well. A very long time."
He gave me a sideways look.
Well, as sideways as a sea dragon can manage.
"Name?" he asked.
"Elara."
"And origin?"
"Not here."
"No kidding. Want to narrow it down?"
I inhaled softly. "I think I died. In my world. Drowned. I remember water, then falling, then waking up here. Breathing. Alive. Somehow."
Kaelen blinked. Slowly.
"…You just fell into the Sea Realm? With legs?"
"Apparently."
"And you didn't die?"
"I'm… not sure."
He made a strangled noise. "No wonder your sigil's acting up. Humans don't come here. Human bodies cannot come here."
"Yet here I am."
"Exactly the problem!" he snapped. "You shouldn't exist down here at all."
"I'll put that on a t-shirt," I muttered.
"Don't. People would panic."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
We swam through the arch.
Tirazaek unfolded in front of us like an underwater miracle.
Spiraling towers made of pearl and stone.
Floating lanterns shaped like tiny moons.
Schools of silverfish weaving through the streets like choreographed dancers.
Mermaids gliding through currents with the kind of elegance that made ballerinas look clumsy.
They weren't cartoon mermaids.
They were… otherworldly.
Fins like stained glass.
Flowing wraps and silk-like fabric moving like smoke in the water.
Some had shimmering scales down their arms or across their cheekbones.
Every face turned to me.
And just like before — their eyes snapped to my shoulder.
Where the mark glowed softly beneath my torn clothes.
Whispers spread. Fast. Too fast.
I lowered my arm instinctively.
Kaelen hovered closer, trying very hard to look bored.
"Yeah," he muttered, "they're absolutely failing at subtlety."
"I thought mermaids would be welcoming."
"To people they like," he said. "Or people with crowns. Or people without mysterious glowing sigils older than half their religion."
"…Comforting."
"It's okay," Kaelen added. "They stare at me too."
I blinked. "Why? You're adorable."
He glared. "Try again."
"I mean majestic."
"Better." He flicked his tail. "Anyway, Saelkyn are rare. Most folk never see one. So yeah — whispers."
His voice softened unexpectedly.
"You're not alone, okay?"
I looked at him.
"…Thanks."
"Don't get sappy on me. I have an image to maintain."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
Kaelen slowed down near a row of shimmering coral-buildings and gave me a sideways look.
"Okay, land-walker. You need clothes."
I pulled my cloak tighter. "I don't have money, Kaelen. I didn't exactly bring a wallet when I drowned."
He hissed softly and nudged me closer so no one overheard.
"Don't say that out loud," he whispered. "People will think you're unregistered or… worse."
"Sorry," I whispered back. "But seriously, I can't pay."
He rolled his eyes. "Relax. I've got it. Just pretend you know what you're doing."
"…I definitely don't."
"Then pretend harder."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
The boutique we entered looked like a sea snail became a fashion designer.
Glowing-shell arches. Floating bubbles holding clothes.
Fabric rippled around as if stirred by invisible currents.
"I'm… scared," I whispered.
"Good," Kaelen said. "Fashion should terrify you."
He found a cloak in seconds and tossed it toward me.
The fabric wrapped around my shoulders on its own, like gentle water.
My sigil dimmed instantly, dropping from "searchlight" to "soft glow."
"Oh wow," I breathed. "It feels like… jellyfish silk."
"It hides auras," Kaelen said. "Useful for people who glow like divine riddles."
I scanned the weird outfits — dripping seaweed dresses, jackets with blinking barnacle buttons, a hood shaped like a shrimp.
"No seafood costumes," I muttered.
"Pick something or someone will propose a purification ritual."
I picked the cloak.
Kaelen handed me a small coral ring next.
"What's this?"
"Swim charm. The sea won't drag you anywhere unexpected with this on."
"That was a possibility?!"
"Yes. Moving on."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
We stepped — floated — out of the boutique.
"Do I look less murderable now?" I asked.
"Smidge."
"Great."
Kaelen paused, looking at me with an expression I couldn't fully read.
"You'll get used to the staring," he said. "This place… changes people. Some slowly. Some suddenly. But it doesn't take away your breath unless it means to give something back."
"…What does that mean?"
"Don't ask me. Ask the sea."
He zipped ahead again.
I followed, heart pounding — but not from fear.
This place didn't feel wrong.
It felt… eerily right.
Like a place my bones knew even if my memories didn't.
A place I shouldn't survive in.
Yet somehow could.
A place that whispered, faint but certain:
Welcome back.
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧