Elise rolled her shoulders. "It's been a long day. How about a swim?"
20
Maelis
The sea welcomed us like an old friend.
We slipped beneath the surface just after sunrise, the horizon kissed with gold and coral-pink light. The water was calm, visibility near-perfect – as though the ocean itself approved of our return.
Cerban swam beside me, long and graceful, his presence a comforting weight in the water. His warm hand brushed mine briefly before he surged ahead, leading the way through the familiar reef shallows, then deeper, into the crevasse that had nearly become my grave.
But fear didn’t follow me this time. Only wonder.
We both carried extra tanks, fresh lights, and a compact data recorder given to us by Fionn, which would sync everything we recorded with the Tidebound's computer. It was our first trip to the memory orb in our new roles - and it felt strange not having to sneak out in secret.
We knew the way now. Past the fractured rockfall, through the narrow side channel revealed only by that curious stream of bubbles. The entrance glowed faintly as we approached, the shimmer of veins in the stone like a heartbeat just beneath the surface.
Cerban reached for the orb, his hand tracing the same figure-eight pattern he’d used last time. The sphere awoke slowly – light flaring in gentle pulses, the water around us vibrating softly.
A bubble formed around the orb, then began to expand.
I sank to the floor as the air displaced the water, feeling the now-familiar sensation of weightlessness turn to grounded stillness. My mask hissed as I pulled it free, heart pounding with anticipation.
Cerban straightened beside me, water rolling off his skin. He looked radiant in the shifting glow – all sharp lines and sea-worn grace, his emerald skin glistening like kelp in sunlight.
“This place remembers us,” he said quietly. "It was much faster this time."
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
Cerban reached for the data recorder and pointed it at the orb. While he did that, I used my waterproof camera to film the cave in all its detail. We didn’t speak for a while. Just moved together in easy rhythm, documenting what we could. The orb pulsed steadily, as if listening.
"I think I've got everything I can for now," Cerban said eventually. "Let's activate the orb and see what else it might show us. Are you ready?"
I pointed the camera straight at the sphere. "Ready."
There were small images at first. A child’s laughter. A pair of hands building something intricate from coral. The ghost of a kiss exchanged beneath glowing water. Just fragments of past memories, yet significant, nonetheless.
I turned to Cerban, breath caught in my throat. “It’s showing us other things than last time.”
He nodded. “I don't know how to control what it shows us. Maybe someone on the Tidebound will know. For now, I think it's best if we just watch and record everything.”
One of the projections showed a gathering – dozens of finfolk and humans seated together in a circle, exchanging objects. Gifts? Tools? Promises? Either way, it was proof yet again that there had been a true relationship between our two species, long ago, before the finfolk had returned to their planet.
The recorder captured everything, but I didn’t look away from the images. I couldn’t. This was no longer just discovery – it was legacy. A shared past stretching far deeper than any of us had realised.
“I want to learn everything,” I whispered. “I want to know what they built together. What they lost. What we can find again.”
Cerban took my hand. “Then we will. Together.”
I looked around the glowing chamber – at the veins of light, the hum that resonated in my bones, the quiet certainty that we were meant to find this.
Maybe the sea hadn’t almost taken me that day in the cave.
Maybe it had chosen to let me in.
And maybe… just maybe… this was only the beginning.
I pulled Cerban closer. "I am so glad I get to share this with you. Thank you for saving me that day."
