The night seemed unbearably long. Just as the girls had finally drifted into a deeper sleep, Calypso's sharp hearing picked up a faint yet oppressive sound that grew steadily closer.
"It's an infrasonic electromagnetic noise! Sera, wake up! There's a meteor!" Calypso shook Seraphina awake, her excitement and concern evident. Calypso's highly evolved hearing had detected the low-frequency sound, which was inaudible to most creatures.
The infrasonic electromagnetic noise was a type of soundwave produced when meteors collided with Earth's atmosphere, generating friction with the air at high speed. It was a phenomenon that not all animals could perceive, but Calypso's finely tuned senses were exceptional.
At the mention of meteors, Seraphina instantly forgot her sleepiness. She bolted upright and rushed to the window, scanning the sky eagerly. "Where? Where?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. Compared to the aurora they'd admired earlier, Seraphina found meteors far more captivating.
Sure enough, something streaked across the sky, carving a brilliant line of light through the heavens. It was as if the sword of a celestial god had torn open the fabric of the night, illuminating the sky with its fleeting brilliance. As philosophers often said, the life of a meteor is short, but it leaves behind a radiant memory.
After its brief moment of glory, the meteor shot toward the northeast, disappearing into the darkness over the ocean. Emerging from one abyss and leaving a trail of light, it vanished into another, sparking boundless imagination in those who witnessed it. The Creator seemed to be playing a cosmic joke, allowing humans only a fleeting glimpse of this miracle before snuffing it out, leaving them to marvel endlessly at its splendor.
To land-dwelling humans, meteors were romantic symbols of wishes and fleeting beauty. But to the merfolk, they were unpredictable and dangerous bombs that often wreaked havoc on the ocean. Some meteors landed harmlessly on land, while others crashed into the sea, causing explosions of varying magnitudes.
Calypso's expression grew tense as she rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off her unease. Her solemn demeanor was a reflection of her concern; she knew that if a meteor landed in the ocean, it could spell trouble.
When she glanced at Seraphina, she was startled to see her friend standing by the window, hands clasped together in prayer. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes catching the faint starlight, and a serene smile graced her face.
"Sera, what are you doing?" Calypso asked incredulously. "Why are you praying like the land-dwellers? You're a mermaid!"
Seraphina snapped out of her trance, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She fidgeted awkwardly, unsure of how to explain herself. "I... I don't know why I did that," she stammered. "You're right. I know meteors falling into the sea can cause chaos and fear for our people. It's not something to be celebrated."
She hesitated, wringing her hands nervously. "But... I guess I just wanted to pray that the meteor wouldn't harm us—that it would pass safely beyond our world."
Seraphina paused, then laughed at herself nervously. "Maybe I'm dreaming. I do dream a lot, you know. But it's strange... Merfolk never pray to meteors. What's happening to me?"
Calypso studied her friend, torn between concern and amusement. For merfolk, meteors were a source of anxiety, not awe. Yet here was Seraphina, unknowingly adopting the rituals of land-dwellers. Calypso couldn't help but wonder if her friend's connection to the ocean was wavering—or if there was something deeper at play.
The meteor raced across the cosmos with an unyielding resolve, plunging into the atmosphere and colliding violently with the air. It blazed with an unrelenting fire, as though determined to ignite the very depths of creation in its wake. Eventually, it plummeted into the vast, uncharted ocean. The sudden cooling of its exterior clashed with the molten core within—a meeting of ice and fire.
Then came the explosion.
A deafening roar shook the heavens and the sea. The impact unleashed a shockwave that churned the waters into chaos, bending space and time, and startling countless lifeforms into sudden panic.
As dawn approached and the sky began to pale, a loud, resonant bell broke the silence. It was the signal from Hidden Isle, indicating the lifting of the electronic fog barrier that cloaked the island.
Before long, there was an urgent knocking at the girls' door. Groaning, Calypso and Seraphina dragged themselves out of bed, their faces marked with dark circles from the sleepless night.
When they opened the door, they found Captain Kenny standing there, as direct as ever. "Ladies, your first-level evolved abilities should have taken care of any injuries from yesterday's fall by now," he said matter-of-factly. "We've got work to do. This is a task everyone on the island is obligated to assist with."
"What task?" Calypso asked, still groggy.
"Did you see the meteor last night? It landed in the northeastern sea. According to ancient phenological records, meteors can cause whales to beach themselves en masse in panic, a phenomenon sometimes called the planet-strike effect. Whales are among the merfolk's kin. When they're in danger, it's our duty to save them. Understood?" Kenny handed each of them a baked potato. "Eat up—we're heading out."
Outside, the narrow streets were bustling with merfolk carrying ropes, crowbars, and tools for breaking rocks. Community rescue missions were a shared responsibility, and everyone took to the task with unwavering commitment. The villagers moved as a unified tide toward the northeastern shore, their determination palpable.
The Hidden Isle was shaped like a triangular prism, its lush greenery cloaking the landscape. At the island's heart lay a serene lake, perpetually shrouded in mist. The village encircled this lake, blending into the natural beauty of the environment. But today, there was no time for sightseeing—rescuing stranded whales took precedence over all else.
Following winding stone paths, the villagers fanned out across the northeastern beach, scouring the sand for signs of stranded whales. Yet, to their surprise, there were none. The beach was pristine, and even the shallow waters near the shore revealed no sign of the expected mass stranding. All they found were a few rock formations that vaguely resembled whale backs.
The villagers didn't give up, expanding their search along the coastline and circling the entire island. Despite their efforts, they found nothing. Confusion spread among the crowd. Had the meteor failed to trigger a beaching event this time? If so, that was a relief.
Captain Kenny stood out with his tall frame, his commanding presence visible even in the midst of the crowd. Next to him, Calypso and Seraphina stretched on their toes, craning their necks to see what was happening.
At the center of the gathering, a white-haired elder berated a group of younger merfolk. One of them was the handsome young man who had caught Calypso's eye the night before.
"What were you thinking?" the elder scolded, his long white beard swaying with every word. "Your sylphars—whether they patrol the skies or the seas—reported a pod of around fifty whales heading toward the island after the meteor's fall. Now where are they? Where are the whales?!"
The handsome patrolman and his colleagues hung their heads, visibly mortified at being reprimanded in front of the entire village. Calypso couldn't help but smirk at the sight of his flushed face. Even in his embarrassment, she thought, he looked rather dashing.
Then someone called out from the crowd. "Wait! There's a sound coming from the cracks in those rocks!"
The group hurried toward the source of the noise, discovering a trapped baby whale wedged between jagged rocks. The calf thrashed helplessly in the shallow water, its cries muffled but heart-wrenching.
To free the young whale, they would need to pry the rocks apart. The crevice was shaped like an inverted funnel—wider at the base but narrowing sharply at the top. The whale was stuck in the narrowest part, much like a cork in a bottle.
The white-haired elder inspected the situation and frowned. "This crevice must have been open wider before. The force of the meteor's impact—or the shifting tides—likely caused the rocks to close around the whale. We need to create an opening to free it."
A burly man with earth-colored skin stepped forward, his determination evident. With a deep breath, he activated his second-level evolution. His body swelled with power, his muscles bulging as his veins stood out like roots of an ancient tree. Even his face took on a hardened, primal edge.
From the sidelines, Calypso nudged Seraphina. "Fascinating, isn't it? Last night, the innkeeper's sylphar was a mountain goat. This guy's must be a wild bull—or maybe a bison. A lot of merfolk have land-based sylphars."
Seraphina nodded, her gaze fixed on the unfolding rescue. The villagers' collective effort reminded her of the strength of their community—and the deep bond they shared with the ocean's creatures.
"Why do you think he's a bull?" Seraphina asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just look at his face," Calypso replied with a grin.
The burly man braced himself, planting his feet firmly before gripping the rocks with his powerful hands. Muscles flexing, he let out a mighty roar, "Mooooo!"
The sound was followed by the groaning of shifting stone and the rushing splash of seawater. With tremendous effort, the crevice widened, and the villagers worked together to lift the frightened baby whale from its rocky prison. Its large, glistening eyes blinked, tears mingling with seawater as if in gratitude.
The white-haired island elder issued instructions with practiced authority. "Fetch the veterinarian. And bring some fish for the little one—it's lucky the calf is newly weaned; caring for it shouldn't be too difficult."
The crowd slowly dispersed, though the mystery surrounding the event lingered in everyone's minds.
By noon, the island's council had convened a meeting. Even Captain Kenny was summoned to the dome-like structure nestled among lush greenery. Inside, the elder council sat in a circle, their faces etched with wisdom and concern.
The white-bearded elder, Milo, opened the discussion. "Captain Kenny, as the most renowned detective among the merfolk, what's your take on today's strange events?"
Kenny straightened in his seat. "Respected Elder Milo, I'd say this situation is quite peculiar."
"Go on," Milo encouraged.
Kenny began to lay out his reasoning. "First, both aerial and aquatic sylphar patrols reported the same thing—a pod of whales approached the island in distress, yet they abruptly left before beaching. This raises three key questions:
"First, meteor impacts typically disrupt the whales' sonar and magnetic sense, driving them to strand themselves. Yet this time, though they were affected enough to approach, something stopped them from beaching. What was this force? Where did it come from, and why intervene?
"Second, there's a possibility the whales' guardian intervened—a figure capable of commanding the pod. If so, their abrupt departure might indicate urgency. What could have caused such haste?
"Third, whales are highly social creatures. It's uncharacteristic for them to abandon one of their young. Normally, in times of danger, they'd protect their most vulnerable members by placing them in the safest location. This implies that the crevice where the calf was trapped may have seemed safe at the time. But something in the water might have caused the pod to leave it behind."
His words sparked murmurs among the council members, many nodding in agreement. Milo eventually stood, raising his hands for silence.
"I've received a report from our outer patrols," Milo said, his voice gravelly with age. "Their sylphars observed the pod moving northeast after leaving the island. Captain Kenny, your analysis aligns with this. What's more, their path leads toward the residence of one of the whale guardians—Lyanna. Perhaps she holds the answers we seek."
Kenny's brow furrowed. "It's essential we speak with Lyanna. However..." He hesitated. "I have an uneasy feeling about all this. I suspect this situation isn't entirely the work of the whales' guardian. If not, then who could it be? And what's their motive?"
Milo's gaze softened as he addressed the room. "In that case, Captain Kenny, I propose you escort the calf toward the northeast. If you find the pod, you can reunite it with them. If not, Lyanna may provide clarity."
Though Kenny had his doubts, he nodded in agreement. The task also presented an opportunity for Seraphina and Calypso to immerse themselves further in merfolk society—a crucial part of their training.
The next morning, under the watchful eyes of the Hidden Isle's villagers, Kenny, Seraphina, and Calypso set out on their journey. The baby whale trailed behind them, chirping with high-pitched cries.
Kenny had shifted to his half-merform, gripping a rope tied to a string of bait fish—a treat to keep the calf focused and swimming in the right direction. Seraphina swam close to the calf's side, ensuring it didn't stray. Bringing up the rear, Calypso stole one last glance at the mist-shrouded isle.
Her thoughts lingered on the boy from the patrol—his flustered yet endearing face etched in her memory. She sighed softly. A fleeting encounter, she thought. In this life of constant journeys, such moments were treasures—beautiful yet ephemeral.
The ocean stretched endlessly before them, its sapphire surface reflecting the boundless sky. The gentle currents carried them into the unknown, where mystery and destiny awaited.
The sea was vast, the sky unchanging, and the journey ahead uncertain. Yet the beauty of the moment lay in its endless possibilities.