The lullaby felt too familiar.
Not comforting—more like the ache you get when pressing an old bruise.
Someone was singing inside the cottage.
A man's voice. Low, steady, warm in a way that didn't match the eerie stillness of the dream.
The melody curled through the walls:
Hush, little light, the night is near,
Rest your soul, there's naught to fear.
Though storms may rise and shadows roam,
My watch remains—your heart, your home.
The words tugged something in my chest.
Something old, buried, half-known.
When my eyes shifted toward the window, the air snapped.
The lullaby cut off.
The stillness shattered.
The dream folded—literally folded—like someone pressed reality into a paper crease.
The hill vanished.
The lake blinked out.
And suddenly, I was falling.
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧
No time to think. No time to scream.
Just falling.
Then—
SPLASH.
Cold—too cold—and then suddenly warm.
Like the ocean didn't know which temperature to commit to.
I tried to breathe by instinct…
…and air moved smoothly into my lungs.
Underwater.
Breathing.
Okay.
Sure.
Why not.
First a glowing tree, then a man singing lullabies in a dream cottage, and now this?
Somewhere between the drowning and the falling, someone must've hit the "shuffle realms" button on my existence.
I looked around, expecting darkness.
Instead…
The world glowed.
Coral in neon blues and violets.
Jellyfish like drifting lanterns.
Towers of pearl and stone in the distance like underwater citadels pulled out of a fairytale.
It was too beautiful.
Too impossible.
Too intentional.
Is this Heaven?
My brain offered that with zero confidence.
My clothes were still half-destroyed from the drowning—ripped sleeve, torn jeans—but my hair…
My hair floated in long green ribbons around me, brighter than I remembered, shimmering like it held its own light.
I reached up—and froze.
A glowing mark pulsed softly on my shoulder.
A circle made of feathers, branches, a seashell, and a flame.
Four elements.
Four symbols.
It hummed beneath my skin, like a heartbeat not my own.
"What the…" I whispered.
As if answering, something huge slid behind me.
I turned—slowly—praying to every force in existence that it wasn't a shark.
It wasn't.
It was a whale.
A massive one.
Glowing patterns on its back shimmered like ancient writing.
Two glowing words formed.
"REST EASY."
My chest tightened.
Something in this place… spoke.
Not in English.
Not in sound.
But in meaning.
The water here wasn't normal either.
It didn't sting.
It didn't press.
It felt like breathing silk.
Like the sea itself was holding its breath.
And watching me.
A ripple moved behind the coral shelf.
Not natural.
Not current.
Someone was there.
Before I could move, something slammed into me at full speed.
"ACK—WHAT THE—"
I tumbled like a drowning acrobat and finally steadied myself—just in time to see a pink and gold sea dragon glaring at me like I'd insulted his entire bloodline.
"You!" he barked. "Why are you—wait. WAIT."
He darted backward so fast he left a swirl of bubbles.
His eyes widened.
"You have—"
He flew a frantic circle around me.
"LEGS?!"
"…Yes?" I said weakly.
"LEGS," he repeated, scandalized. "TWO OF THEM. Attached. And you're using them. You're USING THEM underwater."
He stared like I had committed a biological crime.
"Humans don't come down here," he snapped.
"Surface-born creatures don't survive five seconds below the veil. And definitely—DEFINITELY—not with legs."
"I—uh—fell?"
"You FELL?" He threw his fins up. "Into the SEA REALM. With LEGS. Do you understand how many laws of nature that breaks? No? Of course not. You're a land thing."
"Land thing?!"
He pointed a fin at me dramatically.
"You have no gills. No fins. No dorsal anything. You're basically a soggy stick with hair. HOW are you breathing?"
"I don't know!"
He squinted at me, offended by my existence.
"You SHOULD be dead."
"Great. Thanks."
He circled me again, muttering.
"Legs… breathing underwater… glowing sigil… weird land smell…
This is bad. This is VERY bad. This is 'tell-the-elders' bad."
I swallowed. "Elders?"
He flicked his tail. "Never mind. One apocalypse at a time."
Then he stared at my legs again.
"I just—how. HOW. Do they bend like that ON PURPOSE? And why do they split into toes? And why do you have… SHOES?"
I looked down at my torn sneakers.
"They're… shoes?"
"Shoes," he whispered in horror. "In the sea. This is unbelievable."
He sighed dramatically.
"Fine. You can come with me. But don't expect me to pretend your… limb situation is normal."
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My heart hammered against my ribs, too fast, too loud.
I didn't know why it hit me right then — maybe because he was staring at me like I wasn't supposed to exist.
Maybe because everything had been moving too fast for me to think.
Maybe because this was the first moment where I actually felt the fear I'd been running on autopilot through.
"I… I don't understand any of this," I said quietly, breath shaking even underwater. "I don't know where I am. Or how I'm alive. Or why I'm breathing in a place I shouldn't even be. You're talking, the sea is glowing, whales have messages on their backs—
—I don't even know what's happening to me."
Kaelen's expression shifted. Just a little. His sarcasm slipped long enough to reveal something like concern.
"Okay," he said, softer than before. "Alright. Breathe."
"I am breathing! That's the problem!"
"Then keep doing it," he muttered. "Just… slower. Humans aren't built for this kind of shock."
I closed my eyes and tried to steady myself, but the truth was simple:
I was terrified.
Completely overwhelmed.
And trying so hard not to fall apart in front of a dragon who judged my shampoo.
Kaelen flicked his tail, hovering closer.
"Look… I know this is a lot. But you're not dead. And you're not alone. So stick with me before your panic attracts something with teeth, okay?"
It wasn't comforting in a normal way.
But it was enough to keep me from unraveling.
✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧