The fire was dying—just a few driftwood sticks crackling low on the sand, surrounded by scattered rocks and shells. Embers exhaled their pulsing glow as the sun sank beyond the horizon, spilling its fading citrus warmth across the beach.
Kalia sat before it. Her legs crossed at the ankles, knees pulled tight in, and chin resting atop them. The small urn cradled in her hands felt heavier than it should have. It held grief and years of unanswered questions. Too many. She asked, but her father always found a way to evade her, slipping into silence like a wisp of smoke. And now he was gone. The truth was cremated with him inside this urn.
Tears burnt her eyes, blurring the darkening clouds reflected in distant waters. The dusky sky quietly mirrored the inevitable present.
It was time.
She stood. A quiet breeze swept from behind, pushing her forward. Kalia stepped into the silver arc of wave. Her trembling hands opened the urn and tipped it. For a moment, the ashes swirled on the wind, but then a sudden gust lifted them again. In an instant, like a mini-tornado, the ashes twisted into a spiraling column of light, churning with a brilliant glow.
Kalia’s lungs locked. This contradicted her belief about scattering ashes. Perhaps the wind was playing tricks on her—in its own way, saying goodbye.
But the ashes began to gather. A face formed in the air, then a body. Her father. He stood before her, just as she remembered—whole.
Kalia froze. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said at last, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. The voice was his, but—it wasn’t.
“What took you so long? I told you to release my ashes during the full moon, but I didn’t mean next year!” He chuckled, but there was something urgent in his tone.
“I—” She couldn’t finish.
“Did you think I’d died?” His grin widened, flashing familiar teeth.
“Didn’t you?” she finally whispered, her eyes wide.
“Well, not exactly. But I can’t explain everything right now.” His expression turned serious.
“I am a Sepharine, Kalia. I couldn’t tell you during my time as a human, but now—I must leave you the key.” He gestured around them. “Take care of our kingdom.”
The tide stilled. The air didn’t move. Even the wind seemed to hold.
“Let the low tide guide you, and the full moon illuminate your way.”
“What?” she finally mumbled, even though she wasn’t sure if this was real. “What key?”
His face flickered and began to fade, scattering to ashes once more.
“Wait—what kingdom? Dad—”
“Don’t waste your time,” his voice echoed as the ocean roared back to life. A wave crashed against the rocks, its spray catching the remnants of ashes and pulling them into the sea.
Kalia stood motionless. Had she really seen her father? Heard his voice? Or was it just another dream—like the ones that haunted her since the funeral?
She lifted her gaze. A full moon stared back—rising. This was real.
She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty air, searching for clarity.
A low, intermittent clicking interrupted her concentration. A gentle but distinct tik-tik-tik intruded into the sound of waves. Kalia scanned the beach and spotted an emerald frog with iridescent wings. It leaped energetically along the shore, leaving soft prints on wet sand.
Kalia watched the hops with surging anticipation. The frog stopped in front of her, locking its amber eyes with hers. For a moment, none of them moved. The frog’s throat pulsed gently and its delicate wings shimmered softly in orange. Suddenly, the amphibian’s slick tongue shot forward—not to snatch prey, but to deliver something. Kalia flinched, noticing the silvery gleaming at her feet. The frog swiftly pulled its tongue back in. Then it blinked once and hopped toward the sea.
Kalia knelt and reached for the object. It was an oversized key. This must be the key her father mentioned, she thought. It felt much heavier than she expected. And it was unusually warm—almost hot.
She stepped into water, trailing the frog’s leaps.
Let the full moon illuminate the gate, she recalled.
Without thinking twice, Kalia dipped her foot in the moonlight’s reflection in water—a stretched silvery triangle shimmering like a floating lunar shawl.
She immersed the other foot and touched something. A stair. Then another.
Suddenly, the water began to part. The waves split in halves, rising up into walls on both sides. Breathless, Kalia descended until she saw a massive anemone swaying gently. The purple tentacles, as long as Kalia’s arms, pulsed—waving to her, inviting her closer.
The anemone’s mouth opened, revealing a crystal-blue hallway. Kalia stood rooted, yet she couldn’t resist leaning closer. She peeked inside the grand foyer, where the sapphire walls and ceiling bathed in luminous tranquility.
A gigantic jellyfish emerged, uncurling gracefully into a woman from the waist up.
“Welcome home, Kalia.” She spoke melodically with a smile, showing pearl-bright teeth. Her jelly-skirt pulsed with divine elegance, mirroring her brown hair, floating with delicate grace.
Kalia was captivated. This place felt like a familiar fairy tale.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” the jelly girl added, stretching her arms.
Kalia remembered her father telling her stories about a magical underwater world with mystical creatures and luminescent corals. This was what he had described. In her childhood mind, it was only a bedtime story. But now it was real.
She slipped in.
The air was moist, radiating with crystal blues—the living heart of the sea itself. Towering coral spires extended upward like guarded cathedrals, emitting gentle light. A school of electric blue fish passed by, leaving behind trails of silver stardust. Starfish and anemones pulsed with color.
But something was off. Random dark patches dimmed the glow. The kingdom was fading.
The jelly girl danced and spun happily, despite dark spots spilled like black ink on her skirt.
“I’m Tessa, your sister. Father told me so much about you.”
Kalia’s lips parted in disbelief. She had always wanted a sibling—but a half-jellyfish wasn’t exactly what she’d imagined.
“Sister?” she whispered.
Tessa laughed softly. “Believe me, I wasn’t thrilled you have legs.” She rolled her skirt and flipped above Kalia’s head. “That’s what makes up a family. It’s never what you expect, but somehow what you need.”
“Dad never told me…” Kalia shook her head, unconvinced.
“He couldn’t tell you everything. But he shared a lot. And there is so much to talk about.”
Tessa positioned herself in front of Kalia—face to face.
“I am truly glad you’re here, Kalia. I’ve waited so long. You’re exactly as I hoped.”
There was honesty and sincerity in Tessa’s eyes.
She lowered her head in silence for a while.
“Sepharis breathes life into the ocean. Through our glow, youth and balance flow into Earth.” Tessa’s voice filled with painful intensity. “But our world is dying. We rely on rainwater from the Sapphire Oak, a rare tree. It contains the substance that gives us our glow and vitality. Even a few drops could restore Sepharis.” She paused, looking Kalia in the eyes. “None of us here can survive in your world for long. It’s been too long since our father’s last delivery.”
Kalia remembered a childhood story about a magical tree growing at the foot of the mountains. But until now, she thought the unique quality of its moisture following rain was just fantasy. Meanwhile, her father had educated her through fascinating tales.
“You need me to get the rainwater from that tree?” Kalia questioned hesitantly.
“Our father’s soul is tormented and will not rest until Sepharis is healed,” Tessa continued. “Only Sepharians can extract the moisture from the tree, and only the one with the key can enter our kingdom… Father chose you.”
“Why? What am I?” Kalia’s breath shortened. She thought she was about to faint.
“You are a Sepharine, just like your father. You can survive underwater longer than others. But you are also partly human.”
Kalia staggered back. She recalled a childhood boat accident. Her mother drowned, yet Kalia survived. Doctors called it a miracle.
It all made sense—she could hold her breath longer than anyone she knew.
A sudden, sharp vibration rushed through the air, sending a shiver through the glowing kingdom.
Tessa began to shrink, curling her human body back into the top bump of a jellyfish. Her glow flickered in neons—a warning sign.
“The tide turns. Kalia, you must leave.”
“No, I have questions—” Kalia didn’t move.
“The gate will seal. We won’t survive another moon cycle. Go now!” Tessa urged.
The kingdom trembled.
The anemone’s door began to shut.
Tessa folded like an umbrella and unfurled with massive power, forcing Kalia outside the gate.
A final whisper: “Please, help us.”
A wave ripped Kalia backward. All lights vanished. The ocean roared around her.
Then fell silent.
Kalia woke on the beach. Sand clung to her clothes and skin. The rising sun peeked through billowing clouds, sending its warm rays across the peaceful water. Her father’s urn rested in the sand beside her.
Memories of last night rushed back in. It was the most bizarre dream, she thought.
Kalia rose to her knees, feeling the discomfort of the cold.
But something was in her hand.
The silver key—bigger and shinier than any other.
The kingdom was real.
She looked at the mountains and thought of her father disappearing during storms. He was a Sepharine with a purpose—whatever it might have been. And now it was hers. She had to save Sepharis and let her father’s soul rest.
She looked up. Gray clouds gathered in the distant sky.
“The rain is coming,” she whispered. “I must find that tree.” She turned sharply and strode off.
Behind the trees, three men with binoculars watched her.
“It’s her,” one whispered. “She has it in her hand.”
“The glowing jelly trace on her leg confirms it. Classification: Lumenflora—AeQ-3,” said the second with distinct precision.
“We can’t lose her,” the third ordered, sliding his binoculars into his uniform pocket.
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