Tides of memory

CHAPTER 1: A HOME UNKNOWN

Calista’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the world around her made no sense. The water shimmered and pulsed with life, bending the light into patterns that danced across every surface. She was lying on a bed, yet it was unlike any she had ever known. The mattress was an alcove of smooth, coral-dusted rock, cushioned with thick layers of soft, swaying algae. Bioluminescent flowers hovered above her, casting pale, magical light that shifted in gentle rhythms. Petals drifted in the current, brushing against her skin like tiny, living whispers.

Above her head, the hut loomed small but strangely familiar. Its walls were woven from driftwood, reinforced with coral and stone, encrusted with vibrant coral gardens that seemed to pulse faintly with life. Algae drapes hung like curtains, swaying with the currents as though breathing. Glowing mushrooms clung to walls and ceiling, their soft pulses blending with the flower-light, bathing the room in an otherworldly luminescence.

A rock jutted from the center of the hut, flat and smooth, serving as a table. Small shells, polished stones, and curious trinkets rested on its surface, their shapes unfamiliar but strangely comforting. Hollow rocks and coral nooks along the walls functioned as storage for unknown objects. Schools of tiny, glowing fish darted in and out of the coral gardens, weaving through the hut like living ornaments.

Her gaze fell on the walls, and her heart skipped a beat. Coral-framed pictures lined the hut, each capturing moments she didn’t remember. In every frame, she was there—but not human. Her hair shimmered with iridescent scales, her fingers ended in delicate fins, and she was surrounded by other mermaids, laughing and embracing her as though she had always belonged.

Panic gripped her chest. Her legs—no, her tail—flicked beneath her, long and iridescent, catching the glow from the floating flowers. Her fingers, tipped with fins, brushed against the algae-covered sheets.

She couldn’t believe it. She was a mermaid.

Her lungs did not ache; she breathed effortlessly, as if the water itself were air. Her hair floated in weightless waves, drifting around her like strands of liquid silver. Her heartbeat slowed and synchronized with the gentle currents that wove through the hut, matching the pulses of glowing flora and the sway of the kelp outside.

“No… no, no, no!” she screamed—or tried to, but the sound dissolved into bubbling ripples that echoed strangely through the water. Currents whipped around her as she kicked her tail in desperation, stirring clouds of bioluminescent plankton and algae. Tears floated from her eyes, glowing faintly in the light, drifting like tiny, luminous lanterns.

She spun and flailed, her tail striking a coral-covered beam of the hut. The pictures on the walls blurred, but the smiles of the mermaids were unmistakable, their eyes bright and welcoming. Something about them twisted her stomach. She should feel joy, she thought, yet panic and fear gnawed at her. She didn’t remember these moments, these friends. She didn’t belong here… and yet, part of her instinctively knew she did.

Calista’s gaze roamed the rest of her home. The coral gardens were arranged like carefully tended decorations, soft corals twisting into natural patterns around the hut. The kelp drapes that hung along the walls and corners moved in gentle waves, forming rooms within rooms, privacy partitions, and cozy little alcoves. The rock table was scattered with smooth shells, tiny starfish preserved in glassy bubbles, and small trinkets carved from coral and stone. Hollow nooks in the walls cradled strange objects—some glittering faintly, others humming softly with currents she couldn’t yet feel.

She reached out to touch a glowing mushroom clinging to the wall. The moment her fin-tipped fingers brushed it, it pulsed brighter, sending a soft ripple of light across the hut. The tiny glowing fish darted closer, curious, brushing against her arm. The algae around her swayed like slow hands, almost protective, almost alive.

Her eyes wandered back to the frames. She floated closer, mesmerized and terrified. One picture showed her laughing, fins wrapped around a friend with shimmering green scales. Another showed her mid-swim, a school of glowing fish twisting around her like ribbons. The expressions on the mermaids’ faces were warm, loving—but something deep in her chest twisted with unease. Who were they? How did she know them?

Calista’s panic returned, stronger this time, coiling in her stomach like a living thing. She flicked her tail and swam toward the center table, sending ripples through the floating petals. She picked up a shell, examining it carefully. It seemed ordinary, yet it thrummed faintly in her hand, as if alive. Another trinket, a tiny carved starfish, felt cool to the touch, and when she set it back down, a soft glow lingered on its edges.

Every object she touched, every movement she made, seemed to stir the hut in subtle ways—the algae swayed faster, the flowers pulsed brighter, and the glowing fish darted in curious patterns. It was as if the house itself were responding to her presence, welcoming her, reminding her, or warning her—she couldn’t tell which.

Calista floated in the center of the hut, tail curling beneath her, fins trembling. She couldn’t deny it anymore: she was no longer human. She could breathe underwater, she could see in the dim glow, and she felt every pulse of life in the coral, algae, and flowers surrounding her. Panic and awe collided violently in her chest.

Her scream bubbled again, dissolving into the gentle sway of the kelp drapes and the soft hum of the living hut. And as the echoes faded, Calista realized something chilling and undeniable: she had to understand who she was, what this place was, and why it was hers—before the currents carried away every answer she didn’t even know she was searching for.

Note: This story is also available on RoyalRoad.com. All content is fully written and owned by me.