Mira's steps were slow as she walked back toward the house, the weight of the stone in her pocket pressing against her like a constant reminder. Her fingers brushed over the smooth surface, feeling the strange warmth of it as though it had its own pulse. She couldn't stop thinking about what she had seen. The water being, its eyes glowing with ancient wisdom, its words that echoed in her soul—You belong to the depths.
It was a message, one that Mira couldn't fully grasp. It was almost as if the sea itself was calling her, a force much stronger than anything she had ever felt before. She had always been drawn to the ocean, but this was something entirely different. It wasn't just a connection—it was a part of her. But why now? Why was the sea choosing her?
The air grew heavy as she approached the house. Ethel's silhouette was barely visible against the trees, and Mira wondered where her aunt had gone. She hadn't seen her all day, but it wasn't unusual for Ethel to go off on her own. Ethel had always been distant, always busy with her own thoughts, leaving Mira to wander the island. But something felt off today, like the weight of the air pressing in around her. She had to ask her aunt about the stone, about the water figure, but she didn't know how.
By the time she reached the front door, Ethel had returned. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, looking at Mira with an unreadable expression.
"Mira," she said quietly, her voice sharp but controlled, "where were you?"
Mira hesitated, trying to find the right words. How could she explain everything that had happened? The strange vision, the pull of the ocean, the figure rising from the water? It didn't make sense. She could barely understand it herself.
"I was by the beach," she finally said, keeping her gaze lowered.
Ethel didn't speak for a long moment. Mira could feel her aunt's eyes on her, studying her, waiting for some sign of the truth. Mira didn't meet her gaze. She didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes, didn't want to see the worry that always seemed to flicker behind them.
"You should be careful, Mira," Ethel said finally, her voice soft but firm. "The ocean is not something you can control. It's unpredictable. It doesn't give anything freely."
Mira's heart beat faster at her aunt's words, but she didn't answer. She didn't know how to explain what she had felt, the pull of the sea, the call that seemed to have been waiting for her. She didn't know if Ethel would even understand.
"I'll be careful," Mira murmured, though she didn't really believe it. There was something deep inside her, an ache in her chest, that told her she was already beyond the point of no return.
She stepped inside the house, leaving Ethel standing at the doorway. The silence between them was thick, heavy, as though there were unspoken words that neither of them could say. Mira sank into a chair near the window, her thoughts racing.
The stone in her pocket felt hotter than before. She took it out, tracing the strange markings with her fingertips. It seemed to pulse with energy, and she wondered if the figure in the water had known this—if the sea itself had chosen her for something more. But what?