Chapter 5 Tides and Trust

There are rules to my world.

Unseen lines carved into the current. Ancient vows woven into coral and salt. And above all else, the one we never break:

Do not bring outsiders into Maelora waters and yet, Aeron swam beside me now.

Uninvited. Unwelcomed.

Unshakably present.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He swam like he belonged here-strong strokes, focused gaze, as though the weight of the ocean didn't press on his fairy bones the way it did on others.

He didn't look like a threat but that's what made him dangerous.

"You're quiet," he said, voice muffled by water but still carrying the edge of amusement.

"I'm deciding if I regret this."

He grinned. "Too late. You already saved my life twice."

"That wasn't permission to follow me home."

"I didn't follow," he said. "I came with you. There's a difference."

I rolled my eyes and picked up speed. He kept pace easily. Of course he did. My chest tightened the closer we got. The entrance to the reef shimmered in the distance-a twisting arch of living coral veiled by illusion. Only those who belonged could pass. The moment we approached, the water thickened, pushing back with a hiss of resistance.

It knew he was not one of us. I reached for him. "Hold my hand."

His brow arched. "That's all it takes?"

"Trust is a tide. Let it pull you, or it'll drown you." For once, he didn't argue.

His fingers brushed mine, then clasped. Warm. Calloused. Steady. The current recognized the link and reluctantly, it let him in.

As we passed through the veil, a chill ran down my spine.There would be consequences.

Maelora territory was not made for outsiders. Our buildings were grown, not built-sweeping curves of seashell and pearl, anchored in living reef. Bioluminescent seaweed lit our paths. Fish darted past like rumors in a crowded hall. The silence was deeper here. Intentional. Watchful and now, eyes followed us from every shadow.

Aeron noticed.

"They're staring."

"They're deciding whether or not to report you to the Council."

"Charming."

"They think I've brought a traitor home."

His hand didn't leave mine.

"And what do you think?" I hesitated.

"I think... I want to understand why the sea keeps whispering your name."

We reached the Temple of Tides before he could answer.

Lira was already waiting. Her expression was unreadable-mouth neutral, eyes storm-dark. The coral crown gleamed atop her silver hair.

I dropped Aeron's hand.

He didn't flinch.

"You brought him here," she said quietly.

"I had no choice."

"There is always a choice." I stepped forward. "The temple responded to both of us. The fragment woke when we were together."

"And what does that tell you, child?"

"That the prophecy needs both halves."

Lira's gaze slid to Aeron. "And you, winged one? Do you speak for the sky, or only for yourself?" He met her eyes without blinking. "I came to stop what's coming. If I have to walk through your judgment to do it, so be it."

Bold.

Foolish but honest.

Lira studied him for a moment longer, then looked back at me. "This is your decision, Isolde. You vouch for him, you answer for him."

I lifted my chin. "Then I will."

Her gaze softened. Just slightly.

"Then let him stay. But be warned-the tide is shifting. The sea may whisper his name, but it still remembers the last time air and water tried to dance." I nodded.

Aeron exhaled quietly behind me.

Lira turned and vanished into the shadows of the temple. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Well," Aeron said beside me, "that went better than expected."

I shot him a look. "You're not safe here. Don't mistake tolerance for welcome."

"Wouldn't dream of it." But he followed me anyway.

That night, I took him to the edge of the reef, where the currents were gentler, the silence deeper.

He hovered beside me in the open water, watching the faint glimmer of fish darting beneath us.

"I didn't thank you," he said after a while.

"For what?"

"For not letting me die."

"I didn't do it for you."

He smiled faintly. "No. You did it for the prophecy." I didn't answer.

He shifted closer, wings folding in, gaze serious. "But I need to know something."

"What?"

"When you sang in the temple... that melody, the words-have you heard them before?"

"Only fragments."

"But you recognized them."

"Yes."

"Why?"

I hesitated, then whispered, "Because they were part of a lullaby. One my mother used to hum when she thought I wasn't listening."

His eyes widened. "That same verse?"

I nodded.

He looked away, jaw clenched. "My father... he used to speak of a fairy who fell in love with a sea-dweller. He said their love broke the world."

"And now here we are," I murmured.

He turned back to me, expression unreadable.

"What if we're making the same mistake?" I met his gaze.

"Then let's make a different ending." For a moment, the sea stilled and something between us did too.

It wasn't a kiss. It wasn't a confession but it was the beginning of trust and for now, that was enough.