Chapter Text
The wooden boat moved slowly across the surface of the sea, which that day was extraordinarily calm. Soren rowed with a lazy rhythm—more because he’d been asked than out of his own free will—while Claudia sat beside him, her fingers tracing the faded map Rayla had given them yesterday afternoon.
“So today we’re going to see the coral garden?” asked Ezran, his eyes shining. He was already half hanging his head over the side of the boat, staring into the water as if he could pierce its depths. Rocky, the little sea toad faithfully perched on his shoulder, let out a soft croak.
“That’s what Rayla said,” answered Callum. He sat on the other side of the boat, one hand holding his beloved sketchbook. “She said there’s a place where the coral glows in the dark. But we have to get there before the sun gets too high, because after that it’ll be too bright to see it.”
“Why didn’t we just swim from the start?” grumbled Soren, his arms already aching.
“Because,” Claudia answered without lifting her face from the map, “we’re humans. We can’t breathe underwater, Soren.”
“I know that!”
“You didn’t say so earlier.”
“I—” Soren sighed, giving up.
Callum chuckled softly. It had been several weeks since they first met Rayla—a mer from the Moonshadow pod whom they’d initially thought was a threat, but who later became a friend. More than a friend, honestly, though Callum still didn’t know the right word for what they were. The girl was fierce, stubborn, and sometimes infuriating, but she was also loyal and brave in a way that made Callum always want to be near her.
That morning, Rayla had already been waiting for them on the reef near the island where they were staying. Her bluish-purple tail glistened under the morning sun, and the smile on her face—though she tried hard to hide it—said she was just as excited as Ezran.
“I’m going to show you something today,” she said, her voice half proud, half mysterious. “But you have to follow my directions. Don’t wander off.”
“A surprise?” Ezran practically bounced in the boat. “I love surprises!”
“It’s not a birthday-cake kind of surprise, Ez,” said Rayla, but the corners of her lips twitched. “It’s more like… something not every human gets to see.”
And now, after nearly half an hour of following the course Rayla set—she swam ahead of the boat, occasionally surfacing to make sure they stayed on track—they finally arrived.
“Here,” said Rayla, stopping. Her violet eyes looked at the four humans in the boat. “The coral down here is some of the oldest in our territory. You have to see it for yourselves.”
𓆉 ⋆.˚𓇼 ⋆.˚𓆟
Callum was the first to jump in.
The water welcomed him with a refreshing cold, and once his eyes adjusted, he had to stop himself from shouting in awe—something that was, of course, impossible underwater. So he just hovered in place, his eyes wide, his heart beating faster because of a beauty he hadn’t expected at all.
The world down here was not silent. Not truly silent. There was a soft hum, a whisper of currents, tiny sounds coming from all around—clicks from shrimps, distant whistles from something that might have been dolphins. But the most astonishing thing was the colours.
The coral wasn’t just pale pink and orange like the kind Callum usually saw in books. Some of it was deep purple with tips that glowed yellow. Others were electric blue, pulsing gently like a heartbeat. Some were shaped like giant fans, others like branching trees, still others like strange mushrooms, with tiny silver fish swimming through their crevices.
Ezran was already below, his eyes as wide as Callum’s. He pointed excitedly all around him, small bubbles streaming from his mouth. Soren and Claudia followed not long after, and for a while they just hovered there—four humans stunned by a world completely foreign to them.
Then Rayla appeared among them.
Underwater, she was an entirely different creature from when she surfaced. Her movements flowed; her long tail propelled her with a power that was almost invisible. She swam around them swiftly, occasionally spinning, her short white hair drifting, and on her head was a coral formation that faintly resembled horns.
Look at this, she seemed to say, though no sound came out.
Rayla swam closer to a cluster of small orange fish gathered near the coral. She reached out her hand, and instead of fleeing, the fish drew nearer. They swarmed around her fingers, touched her skin with their tiny fins, then swam away again in a neat formation.
Callum stared in wonder.
This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Rayla underwater. But every time, he found something new. The girl didn’t just live in the sea—she was a part of it. Every movement was in tune with the currents, every interaction with the creatures here felt like a conversation in a language only she understood.
A large turtle with a golden-brown shell passed near them. Rayla gently touched the side of its shell, and the turtle turned its head, as if greeting her, before continuing its slow journey.
Ezran tried to copy her—he stretched his hand toward another fish—but the fish immediately scattered. Callum could see Ezran pouting behind the water. Rayla turned, and even underwater, Callum was sure he saw the girl laughing.
They spent what felt like a short time in that coral garden. Claudia was busy studying sea plants she’d never seen before, likely making mental notes for future potions. Soren mostly kept watch near the surface, surfacing now and then to catch his breath, but even he looked impressed.
Callum himself… he just took it all in. The beauty. The peace. His friends here. Rayla here.
He didn’t know that from afar, from the darker depths, a pair of eyes was watching them.
𓆉 ⋆.˚𓇼 ⋆.˚𓆟
Far, so far from that bright coral garden, in a place where the sun was only a faint memory, Aaravos lay on a flat stone overgrown with blue-glowing sea moss.
“It’s not fair, Papa.”
Leola floated above him, her tiny hands crossed over her chest with a very serious pout for a child her age. Her small silvery-blue ombre tail, sparkling like stars, twitched impatiently, scattering flecks of light from the moss around her.
Aaravos opened one eye. “What isn’t fair, my little star?”
“Papa is pretending to sleep so he doesn’t have to play hide-and-seek again.”
“Papa isn’t pretending to sleep.” Aaravos closed his eye again, but the corner of his mouth curved up. “Papa is truly sleeping. You woke Papa up.”
“Lying with your eyes closed doesn’t mean you’re sleeping, Papa.”
“Since when did you become an expert on sleep?”
Leola didn’t answer. Instead, she flopped onto her father’s stomach with a small plop, making Aaravos open both eyes and let out an exaggerated gasp.
“You’re attacking me,” he said dramatically. “I’m wounded.”
“No, Papa isn’t wounded. Papa is just being dramatic.”
Aaravos laughed—a deep sound that vibrated through the water and made the moss around them pulse brighter. He reached for his daughter, flipping their positions so that Leola now floated beneath him, sheltered in the curve of his body.
“Papa is always dramatic,” he said, and he blew a stream of tiny bubbles at Leola’s face, making her burst into giggles.
“Stop, Papa! It tickles!”
These were the moments Aaravos tucked away tightly in his chest. Times when the world above and below meant nothing. Times when there was no pod politics, no dark history, no humans to be wary of or to manipulate. Only Leola. Only that laugh. Only the blue light of the moss dancing on his daughter’s round cheeks.
Leola was his reason. His only one.
He had already lost too much. He would not lose this one.
Then he felt it.
The smile on Aaravos’s face didn’t disappear—he was too practiced for that—but something inside him tensed. A vibration. A presence. Not a predator. Not a mer from another pod looking for trouble.
Something… foreign.
“Leola,” he said, his voice still gentle, “Papa needs to check on something for a moment.”
“What? Why?” Leola furrowed her brow. “Papa just said we would play again—”
“Papa will definitely play again,” Aaravos promised. He kissed his daughter’s forehead and gently nudged her toward their cave, hidden behind a coral wall. “Wait inside for now. Choose a game you want to play. Papa will be back soon.”
Leola looked hesitant. But she was old enough to recognise the tone in her father’s voice—the tone that meant this is serious, don’t argue. She nodded and swam into the cave, her little tail moving quickly.
Aaravos waited until he was sure his daughter was safe inside. Then he turned.
His movements changed. No longer slow and relaxed as they had been a few moments ago. Now he moved with a precise silence, his long tail pushing the water without creating ripples. He ascended slowly, away from the trench where he lived, toward the source of that vibration.
Aaravos did not like surprises.
He stopped behind a giant coral formation that rose like a natural wall. From here, he could see without being seen. His eyes—dark, ancient, having witnessed more than any seabed could tell—swept over the scene before him.
A mer. A young girl. Moonshadow pod, judging by her bluish-purple tail and the markings on her arms.
And with her…
Humans.
Aaravos narrowed his eyes.
Four humans. All young. Swimming in the coral garden as if they had every right to be there. The Moonshadow girl was guiding them, showing them the coral, playing with the fish.
Aaravos studied each of them with a cold assessment. The blond one—stocky, alert, clearly a warrior or at least trained to fight. The dark-haired one with sharp eyes—she was examining the sea plants, her gestures speaking of a mind that was always working. The youngest one with a toad on his shoulder—just a child. Harmless.
Then the fourth.
Dark hair. Green eyes. His movements in the water were awkward but eager. He was staring at the Moonshadow girl with an admiration that was almost…
Aaravos almost turned away.
They were only humans. Only visitors guided by a mer who seemed overly friendly. No threat here. No—
The dark-haired young man moved his hand.
Aaravos froze.
That gesture. That pattern. He recognised it. Energy gathering at the tips of the human’s fingers. Then—
A puff of magic. Small, almost imperceptible. But Aaravos saw it.
Primal magic.
In the water. Without a tool. Without a primal stone. Without—
That human had just used primal magic. Under the sea. Without any difficulty at all.
Aaravos didn’t move for a very long time. His thoughts raced, arranging and rearranging the information.
Humans can’t do primal magic. Not easily, at least. Not without a connection to an arcanum. Not without—
But this human. This young man.
Aaravos looked closer. He noted the way the young man smiled at the Moonshadow girl.
Interesting.
Aaravos retreated slowly. He didn’t want to be detected. Not now.
He swam back to his trench, his mind still turning. When he reached his cave, Leola was already waiting at the entrance with a coral ball in her hands, her expression half anxious, half curious.
“Is Papa all right?”
Aaravos blinked. Then he smiled—the gentle smile he reserved especially for his daughter. “Of course, little star. Just some visitors passing by.”
“Visitors? Who?”
“No one you need to worry about.” Aaravos reached for Leola and lifted her up. “Now, have you chosen a game?”
“Hide-and-seek again!”
“Again? Didn’t you say it was unfair because Papa always wins?”
“That’s because Papa cheats!”
“Papa never cheats.”
“Cheater! Cheater! Cheater!”
Aaravos laughed and set his daughter down, letting her swim away to hide. But as Leola disappeared behind the coral, the laughter slowly faded from his face.
His eyes looked upward, toward the faraway surface.
A human. With primal magic. Accompanied by a Moonshadow mer.
Interesting, he thought again. And this time, the word felt heavier.
𓆉 ⋆.˚𓇼 ⋆.˚𓆟
The sun had already begun to lean westward when the four humans finally climbed back into the boat, soaked and exhausted but with broad smiles on every face.
“That… was incredible,” said Ezran, his brown hair plastered to his forehead. Rocky made an agreeing sound. “Rayla, how did you make those fish come to you?”
Rayla surfaced beside the boat, resting her arms on the wooden hull. “You just have to act like you want nothing from them. Fish can sense intentions, you know.”
“I didn’t want anything! I just wanted to make friends!”
“Maybe that’s the problem. You wanted it too much.”
Soren, already half sprawled in the bottom of the boat, raised a hand. “I’m not swimming again for a week. My arms are killing me.”
“That’s because you swam with your muscles instead of the current,” said Rayla.
“What’s the difference?!”
Callum laughed. He sat on the edge of the boat, his legs still trailing in the water. His sketchbook was wet—he’d have to dry it later—but he didn’t care. His mind was still full of the coral colours, Rayla’s movements, the glitter of light underwater.
“Thank you,” he said to Rayla. “For today. It was… I don’t know what to say.”
Rayla looked at him. Beneath the water, her tail moved slowly, stirring the water in a calm rhythm. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ve wanted to show you that place for a long time.”
“Why?”
Rayla looked away. “No particular reason.”
But there was something in the way she said it that made Callum think otherwise.
“I’m going to draw everything later,” he said, raising his wet sketchbook. “The coral. The fish. You.”
“Me?” Rayla looked up, and for a moment she looked like her usual self—feisty, guarded. But then her expression softened. “You’ll never get the colours right.”
“I can try.”
They looked at each other for a moment that felt longer than it should have.
“All right, all right,” Claudia cut in from the middle of the boat, “you two can stare at each other later. I’m hungry, and the sun is almost setting.”
Soren snorted. “Finally, something we both agree on.”
Ezran laughed. Rayla pushed herself away from the boat. “You need to head back before dark. My pod has patrol duty tonight, so these waters are safe. But don’t go out at night.”
“Why?” asked Callum.
Rayla hesitated for a moment. “There are other pods in these seas. They’re not as… friendly as mine. It’s better if you don’t meet them.”
“What kind of pods?”
But Rayla just shook her head. “A story for another time. Now go home.”
She dived into the water, and in a matter of seconds she had disappeared below the surface.
Callum stared in the direction she had gone for a while, until Soren began rowing and the boat moved back toward the island.
He didn’t know that below them, in unreachable depths, a pair of eyes was still watching.