Chapter 5 The First Whisper

Dawn broke gently over the Isle of Echoes, revealing the day like a whispered secret. The sky slowly filled with soft blue and gold hues, spreading over the sea like a comforting blanket. Lyra stood outside her mother's stone cottage, watching the endless horizon where the calm ocean met sky and clouded all lines between past and present.

She hadn't slept at all.

The whispers she is hearing since last night wouldn't let her.

Every time she tried to close her eyes, she hear them. Words without mouths, pleading without form. And the voiceshe keeps hearing was non other than her mothers name.

Liora.

Lyra still didn't fully understand what it meant to be the daughter of a Tidewarden. But she is very aware that yesterday, she had been having different scary nightmares. And today, she was standing on sacred ground.

"You woke up early,". Ethan said

Ethan voice pulled her from her thoughts. breaking the silence. He walked up to her, he was still looking pale but more stable than before. In the day light, the scars on his skin were more visible-one under his right ear and another along his collarbone, barely hidden by his shirt.

"How long did she live here?" Lyra asked, staring toward the cottage.

"Two years. Before she sealed the gate."

"And no one else ever came looking for her?"

"Some did. But this island doesn't reveal itself to just anyone." Ethan paused. "Only the Whisperborn can find it."

Lyra turned. "And what exactly are the Whisperborn?"

Ethan gazed toward the ocean. "Those who carries echoes in their blood. Those who remember things they haven't experienced and feel emotions they haven't been taught. Like you."

"Sounds like a curse." Lyra said.

"It can be. But it can also be gift."

They began walking along a stone path that led down to the cliffside, toward a secluded cove.

"There's something I want to show you," Ethan said.

The cove was small and surrounded by cliffs draped in moss. The water there gleamed in soft shades of turquoise, stirring gently. In the center stood a stone pedestal, waist-high, with a bowl carved into it.

"This is the Pool of First Memory," Ethan said.

Lyra stepped closer, curious of what it is. "What does it do?"

"It reflect the first memory that your blood remembers. Not your own memory, but of your lineage's. Your mother's memories, her mother's-right back to the first of the Whisperborn in your line."

Lyra hesitated. "Will it hurt?"

"Only if the truth itself hurts."

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward.

The moment her fingers brushed against the bowl's edge, the water began to ripple. A bright light flashed, and suddenly-

She was no longer in the cove.

she stood in a vast, golden field, with the wind gently swaying the tall grass beneath a fiery sky. In front of her was a woman dressed in armor made from woven sea plants and bones, with silver eyes and markings on her skin.

The woman turned.

It was her mother.

No... not quite. The shape was similar, but she was older, stronger.

This was an ancestor.

"You have come," the woman said, though her lips didn't move. "Finally."

"Who are you?" Lyra asked.

"I am Elira Halden, the First daughter of the Tide. The First Whisperborn."

Elira reached out and placed her hand over Lyra's heart.

"You carry too much sorrow. Let me give you strength instead."

The wind wailed, and suddenly, memories surged into Lyra like an intense storm.

She saw battles waged in oceans forgotten by maps. Creatures with teeth like coral and eyes like darkness. Gates were built from bone and salt, trembling against what await them in front.

And she saw her family line-generation after generation-standing as guardians, giving what it takes to protect the world.

When Lyra's legs weakened, Elira steadied her.

"You are the end," Elira said softly. "Or maybe a new beginning. Choose wisely."

Then the vision shattered.

Lyra gasped and stumbled back from the pedestal, clutching her chest.

Ethan quickly caught her. "What did you see?"

"An ancestor. Elira. She revealed everything to me." Lyra wiped her face-she hadn't even realized she had been crying. "We've always been protectors."

Ethan nodded. "And now that responsibility is yours."

They sat quietly by the water for a moment, feeling the weight of inherited purpose sinking in.

Then Zephren spoke. "Lyra... do you know why your mother named you that?"

She looked up. "No."

"It means 'bitter sea' in an ancient language. It also means 'strength from sorrow.' She knew what you would have to face."

Lyra let the name roll through her mind like a wave. Strength from sorrow.

It felt just right..

"I need to learn to fight," she suddenly said. "If I'm going to face this.... I can't just carry echoes. I need to use them."

Ethan smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

They trained for hours on the cliff's edge. Ethan taught her the ways of the Whisperborn, how to call echoes from the sea, how to turn her pain into strength, and how to silence the overwhelming voices in her mind.

But Lyra found it difficult.

Every time she touched the water, more memories rushed in-grief too heavy for her heart, sorrow that felt ancient.

At one point, she collapsed, her hands trembling.

"I can't," she whispered.

"You can," Ethan said softly, kneeling beside her. "You will. This isn't just about having power. It's about legacy. And survival."

That night, the sky turned a deep red, like blood.

A storm stirred on the horizon-fast, strange, and fierce.

Ethan stood at the edge of the cliffs, his eyes darkened. "They've found us."

"Who?" Lyra asked anxiously.

"The Hollowed Ones. The drowned who lost their voices... now serving the sea beyond the gate."

A horn blasted from the tower.

Guards rushed around. Elders began to light protective spells.

Lyra's heart pounded. "What do we do?"

Ethan looked at her with quiet fire in his eyes. "We fight. And you... you must remember."

She reached for his hand.

For the first time, she didn't feel like just a girl trying to escape her mother's ghost.

She felt like a Whisperborn.

And the sea didn't whisper warnings anymore.

But a war.