The Secrets of the Deep
Years earlier, when the ocean was kinder, Selene was just a girl in a sapphire toga, her dark hair braided with strands of seaweed. She had discovered the first clue in an underwater cavern—etched carvings that seemed to writhe, even under the stillness of the torchlight. "When the Siren sings, the city will drown," it read in an ancient Atlantian dialect only a handful could still understand. That was where the story began—beneath thirty fathoms of shimmering tide, in the ruins of the "first" Atlantis.
But the priestesses dismissed her. "The ocean provides," they chanted in unison. "The ocean protects."
They ignored the shifting tides, the deep-sea whirlpools forming where there were none before. They ignored her warnings after the stingray migration reversed direction for the first time in centuries. Only her closest friend, Kaelen, listened. Kaelen, who shared her distrust of priestly assurances. Kaelen, whose hands were always ink-stained from drawing maps of uncharted waters. Together, they had stayed up late crafting plans, poring over old scrolls, trailing clues toward a lost artifact called "The Trident of the Tides."
The Trident of the Tides
By the time Kaelen and Selene’s search bore fruit, the skies over Atlantis had darkened, and the tremors had already begun. They finally unearthed the trident in the ocean caves beneath Pelagos Isle—a prismatic weapon forged from coral, obsidian, and a shard of a fallen star. Legends proclaimed it could command the oceans or halt a tsunami, but the inscriptions on its base told a crueler story: "To halt the tide is to pay the sea’s price."
Kaelen, ever the pragmatist, wanted to test it immediately, but Selene hesitated. "We don’t even know what the 'price' is," she had argued, clutching the trident as it hummed faintly in her hands. "Maybe it's safer to warn the city first."
Kaelen looked at her, his ocean-green eyes flashing with frustration. "The city never listens."
The Wave That Could Not Be Stopped
He had been right. Selene had returned to Atlantis to plead her case, armed with evidence and urgency. But for every raised hand in defense, a hundred scoffed. The tides had always obeyed them, they said. Why now would they rebel?
It was only when the tidal wave appeared on the horizon—a black wall blotting out the sun—that the city realized the folly of its pride. The priests gathered in the Great Hall of Spires to chant, their voices panicked and disjointed under the booming resonance of an angry ocean. Kaelen had been in the crowd. He’s the one who found her as the first wave breached the city's outer walls.
The Price of Her Choice
Now atop the cliffs, the trident burned with cold fire in Selene’s hands. Below, children clung to rooftops while adults dragged carts of belongings toward the hills. Kaelen was at her side, his face wet—not with sea spray, but tears. He had finally understood what the inscription meant.
"If you use it," he whispered, his hand resting on hers, "you won’t survive."
She nodded, a single tear trailing down her cheek, though her gaze never left the wave. Her silver dress shimmered as if in approval, the fabric catching the faint sunlight that rippled through the storm clouds above.
"They don’t deserve you," Kaelen said softly.
"It’s not their fault. They don’t know how to listen," she replied, her voice breaking on the final word.
Her fingers tightened around the trident. Below, the second wave loomed, a silent monster swallowing the skyline. And as Selene raised the weapon, channeling the very force of the ocean through her veins, she whispered the same phrase the priestesses had taught her as a child: "The ocean provides. The ocean protects."
The light from the trident consumed her form, and in a burst of brilliance, the wave froze mid-air, its liquid mass suspended as though time itself had stopped. A deafening silence fell over Atlantis, broken only by the soft sound of the tide retreating.
Atlantis Reclaimed
In the end, Kaelen was the only one who saw Selene vanish. The trident had disintegrated into the mist, and where she had stood was now a patch of untouched sand glowing faintly in the sunlight. The ocean had receded, revealing Atlantis battered but standing. The priests proclaimed it a miracle, but Kaelen knew better.
In the years that followed, Atlantis rebuilt itself, carving Selene’s likeness into every wall and whispering her name in every prayer. But Kaelen spent his days by the shore, a silent sentinel waiting for the tides to bring her back.
On moonlit nights, they say you can still hear her voice carried by the wind—a soft, haunting song of the ocean’s might and the one who paid its price to save them all.
Genre: Mythological Fantasy
The Source...check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: Tsunami Preparedness: How Can We Prepare for This Kind of Catastrophe?
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