I woke up with hair in my mouth and Kaelen prodding my ribs.
"Up. We have bureaucracy to face."
"This is not the fantasy world I signed up for."
"Welcome to Uverra," he said dryly.
I groaned and peeled myself off the slightly-too-squishy bed. "Your realm's aesthetic is damp and emotionally unavailable."
Kaelen tossed my cloak at my head. "Put that on. Without it, you scream surface stray. We're going to the Tide Service Wing."
"That sounds like a fish-themed government office."
"It is."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
We swam into a different quarter of Tirazaek this time—narrower lanes, coral arches woven like ribcages, soft pearl tunnels with rune lanterns floating overhead.
Jellyfish the size of umbrellas drifted lazily through the currents. Tiny dart-fish zipped between reef pipes like caffeinated sea pigeons. A crab in uniform saluted a sea slug wearing an official-looking sash.
I grabbed Kaelen's arm. "Do all your creatures have jobs?"
"Some do," he murmured. "Don't make eye contact with that slug. Junior record-keeper. They hold grudges."
I immediately avoided all mollusks.
A translucent koi spiraled by, bumped my shoulder, then blinked at me with giant apologetic eyes.
"…Did that fish just apologise?"
"City koi are weird," Kaelen said. "Keep moving."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
The Tide Service Wing looked exactly like a DMV if someone drowned it in glitter.
A receptionist mermaid tapped her sea-glasses impatiently. An eel clerk behind a crystal window was flipping irritatedly through glowing Pagefin scrolls.
A jellyfish floated by holding a clipboard.
A literal jellyfish clerk.
"…He has a bowtie," I whispered.
"Fastest processor in Uverra," Kaelen hissed. "Don't insult him. He can file your arrest notice in ten seconds."
I shut my mouth.
The eel clerk called out, "Elara. Initial Tidepass registration."
My stomach dropped.
I stepped forward like a doomed soldier.
The scanning chamber was dim, circular, glowing faintly with runes. In the center floated a silver orb, gently spiraling.
"Stand on the marked area," the eel said. "Do not resist the scan. Do not speak. Do not… flare."
"What's flaring—"
"Aura flares. Humans do them accidentally. Try not to."
"Okay, rude."
The orb drifted toward me.
A thin beam scanned my body from head to toe.
For three seconds… nothing.
Then the orb flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Violently.
Its glow jumped from blue → violet → silver → blinding white.
The eel shot upright.
"That— That is NOT a standard resonance pattern."
"I'm not a standard anything!" I yelled. "I'm new! I fell through a void like someone dropped me through reality's laundry chute!"
Behind the glass, Kaelen was doubled over laughing.
The orb let out a warbling "bloooorp" like a distressed whale.
The eel grabbed a scroll. "Multiple resonance signatures… partial lock… sealed origin…"
"Can you translate that into normal?"
"It means your aura is… bound. Like someone sealed most of it before you arrived."
Oh.
Good.
Just what every girl wants to hear:
Congratulations, your soul is on airplane mode.
The orb finally dimmed, drifting back to its pedestal.
"You will receive a temporary Tidepass," the eel said, clearly baffled. "Your signature could not stabilise."
"So I'm… partially registered."
"Barely," he muttered.
He handed me a small glowing bead.
"This holds your current state. If your aura shifts too far—emotionally, spiritually, or magically—it will unbind."
I stared at the bead.
It pulsed faintly. Warm.
"Fantastic. I'm legally thirty percent real."
Kaelen grinned. "That's more than most sea spirits."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
After we left, the eel clerk stared at the orb.
It flickered twice.
On the scroll glowing before him, new text appeared:
[Tide Signature: Fragmented]
[Status: Unknown Origin]
[Potential Classification: Azuran? — CONFIDENTIAL]
He inhaled sharply.
Then picked up his conch transmitter.
"Unit Eight reporting. Anomalous aura detected. Temporary pass issued. Recommend oversight."
A distorted voice answered softly:
"Acknowledged. Notify the Council if the glow flares again."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
I was admiring my Tidepass when someone screamed behind us:
"GET BACK HERE, YOU OYSTER-BRAINED THIEF!"
Something massive surged overhead, fast enough to ripple the water around us.
I ducked. "What was that?!"
Kaelen didn't even flinch. "Loan shark."
"…Please tell me that's slang."
"Nope."
A hammerhead shark twice Kaelen's size barreled through the corridor like a financial torpedo, scrolls clenched in his jaw, vault-lock on his fin.
A panicked merman swam ahead, clutching a satchel like his life depended on it.
Kaelen sighed. "Let me guess—Rilko?"
"INTEREST DOESN'T FORGIVE, DORIN!" the shark roared.
"Oh my gosh," I whispered. "Why is a shark doing debt collection?!"
"He's licensed."
"He's WHAT—"
WHAM.
Dorin slammed directly into me. My Tidepass flew up—Kaelen caught it in midwater—coins spilled everywhere.
"Sorry! Sorry! I was never here!" Dorin squeaked.
Then Rilko loomed, teeth gleaming.
"You are nineteen tidecycles late," he growled. "You even tasted the agreement ink."
"That was a nibble!" Dorin cried. "I was hungry!"
Kaelen flicked his tail and slid a brine pouch forward.
"Rilko. Registry-zone fine."
The shark froze.
Kaelen jingled the pouch. "Two reef-beef jerkies worth."
Rilko nodded, snapped the pouch up, and swam off with Dorin screaming behind him.
A passing guard sighed. "We need shark traffic rules."
A vendor grumbled, "Told my wife we should've bought shark insurance."
I stared at Kaelen.
"This place is insane."
Kaelen grinned. "Welcome to Uverra."
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧