Chapter 15
Maelis
For a moment, I could only stare.
The chamber wasn’t large, but it felt alive. The walls shimmered faintly, veins of silvery metal threading through the stone like roots. Bubbles drifted upward in steady bursts, their rhythm echoing softly in my chest.
And in the centre of it all was the source.
A sphere – half metal, half coral – sat embedded in the cave floor. It was the size of a boulder, its surface smooth and curved except where living coral had fused into it, spiralling upward in delicate ridges. Light pulsed faintly within, the same rhythm as the bubbles.
It was breathing.
I drifted closer, torchlight sliding across the strange surface. The metallic parts gleamed with a dull, opalescent sheen, but the coral was translucent, its tendrils pulsing with faint bioluminescent light. The whole thing gave off a quiet hum, like the soft thrum of an engine – or a heartbeat.
Cerban was by my side, a protective, cautious presence. I knew letting me enter the cave first had to have been difficult for him. I'd tell him later how much I appreciated it. I was jealous of his ability to talk underwater. Right now, I would have loved to discuss what stood before us.
I couldn’t look away. This wasn’t just geology or biology. It was both, merged into something utterly alien.
I reached out a hand before I could think better of it.
But this time, Cerban stopped me, his fingers clasping around my wrist.
"Don't. I think I know what this is. Let me."
I was very tempted to ignore him, but this thing was clearly not of human origin, so I had to admit that Cerban likely knew more about it than me.
He carefully pressed a hand to the top of the sphere, then moved it in a figure of eight shape, slowly and with purpose. The flow of bubbles ceased. It was as if the cave was holding its breath, waiting for what was to come.
"There!" Cerban exclaimed with a jubilant grin. "I was right."
A circle of symbols appeared on the sphere's metal surface, glowing softly. They made no sense to me, but Cerban studied them intently. He touched one - and suddenly the cave was drenched in fluorescent light, illuminating every crevice, every pebble on the floor.
"This language is not one I can read or speak, but it still makes sense to me," he explained. "It must be related to our modern language. And this symbol... yes, that will make things easier."
He touched another part of the sphere. A host of bubbles rose from where coral met metal, small ones first, then larger ones.
A silver film covered the sphere - no, not silver.
It was air. The bubble expanded, beyond the machine, growing fast. I flinched when it reached me, but then cool, dry air kissed my skin, and I froze in astonishment.
Water was being pushed out of the cave. I sank to the ground, no longer swimming.
It only took a few seconds for the air bubble to fill the entire room. I stared at Cerban, who was just as wide-eyed as I must have looked. I pointed at my regulator.
His gills fluttered for a moment as he tested the air, then he breathed in deep through his mouth. "It's safe. The oxygen concentration is very much like it is on the surface. You can remove your breathing equipment, but I would keep it close by. I'm not sure how long this will last."
I gingerly took the regulator from my mouth, then yawned and pursed my lips, stretching my mouth muscles. The air smelled a little metallic, but it was barely noticeable.
"What's happening?" I asked. My voice echoed through the cave.
"This device seems like an early version of those we use back on Finfolkaheem to create air rooms underwater.
While many finfolk prefer to live in water at all times, some like to have parts of their homes filled with air.
Some farming is done on the surface or in huge air domes on the ocean floor.
Half of the chambers in the Archives, where Fionn used to work, are air rooms, to protect artefacts that would not survive in water. "
I looked around me, searching for anything that looked different now that the water had disappeared.
"Why is it in this cave? Is there something that needs air?"
"I don't know," Cerban admitted. "But this is not the device's only function. I think this symbol... yes."
Turquoise light rippled outward from the core, racing along the metallic veins in the walls until the entire chamber glowed.
Shapes appeared within the light. Faint, ghostlike projections that shimmered in the water like memories caught in a dream. I blinked hard, heart pounding.
Figures.
Two of them. A tall, broad form with long fins trailing from his arms and back – finfolk. And beside him, smaller, with flowing hair and human limbs. They swam close together, hands entwined.
I forgot to breathe.
The vision flickered, the light dimming before flaring again – this time showing more of them. Dozens of pairs, finfolk and humans walking side by side through air-filled halls, their movements graceful, familiar, harmonious.
I turned slowly, trying to take it all in. The images danced along the walls, accompanied by a low, resonant hum that I felt in my bones.
"It's a memory orb," Cerban whispered. "I've only ever heard whispers of them. I did not expect to find one here."
The words sent a shiver through me. “A what?”
He crouched beside the sphere, his fingers tracing one of the glowing symbols. “They were used by my ancestors – long before the first archives were built – to store memories and history. But this one… this one is far older than anything I’ve ever seen.”
The light flared again, brighter now. The figures moved, becoming clearer, more detailed.
Their faces were distinct: finfolk and humans, working side by side, speaking, laughing.
One scene showed them planting coral together, the living structures weaving themselves into elegant arches.
Another showed them gathering beneath a vast dome of glass and water, their reflections mingling on the surface.
The longer I watched, the harder it was to breathe. This wasn’t just evidence – it was proof. Proof that humans and finfolk hadn’t just met before; they’d lived together.
"When Fionn found those records," Cerban muttered, almost to himself.
"We thought Ma'vel and Jonet had been an anomaly.
A finfolk-human couple, getting together despite the odds.
But this... This is proof that they weren't alone.
Other unions between the two species happened.
Here, far away from Scotland. And look - is that a fingirl? "
I followed his gaze. A child was sitting at the feet of a human woman, a girl with webbed feet and gills, but her greenskin was shorter than usual and her skin was the pale pink of a human.
"A hybrid," I whispered. "They were able to have children together."
"Just like Jonet and Ma'vel. I have been wondering if their offspring was a miracle. This shows that it was not." He sucked in a deep breath. "It feels like a dream, Maelis.”
His voice trembled slightly. I found myself reaching out, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Maybe it’s not a dream. Maybe it’s a memory your people forgot.”
He turned to look at me. The turquoise light rippled across his face, softening the sharpness of his features.
“If this is true… Then there is hope. Not just for my clutch-brothers and me, but all finmen.
We came here to find mates, to fulfil that yearning to not be alone any longer - but we didn't dare to hope.
When Fionn found Elise, we all rejoiced for him, of course, but there was still that lingering doubt.
What if it was rare to find a mate among humans?
What if he would be the only one?" Cerban smiled slightly.
"This is hope for my species, Maelis, but I don't need it.
I already know that my mate is on this planet.
I don't need a dating agency or an ancient artefact to tell me. "
My skin grew cold suddenly. He had a mate. Somewhere on Earth. He'd find her, either with the help of the Hot Tatties or by some other means. And then he'd be gone, with her, and I'd be-
What? Alone? I liked being single. I had been a long time now.
I loved my independence. I loved that I could quit my job any time I wanted to and move elsewhere, without having to think about others.
I loved that I could decide what to watch on TV at night, without having to compromise.
I loved to starfish in my double bed, lying diagonally on the mattress. I loved...
Him.
The thought hit me like a current, sudden and unrelenting. My heart stuttered, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe. I’d known it, somewhere deep down, since the first time I saw him on the beach, water gleaming on his skin. But saying it – even to myself – was dangerous. Reckless.
I dropped my hand from his shoulder before he could notice the tremor in it. “That’s… wonderful, Cerban,” I managed, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m happy for you.”
He frowned slightly, the faintest crease forming between his brows. “You do not sound happy.”
“I’m just…” I gestured vaguely at the orb, desperate for a distraction. “Overwhelmed, I suppose. This is huge, isn’t it? You’re standing in front of proof that everything your people thought was lost might still exist. That’s – well – it’s a lot.”
His gaze lingered on me, sharp and searching, but then he nodded slowly. “It is,” he said softly. “And yet, the only thing I can think of is how right it feels to be here. With you.”
The air between us thickened. My heart stumbled again. He shouldn’t say stuff like that. Not when another woman was out there, somewhere, destined for him.
I took a small step back, needing space but finding none.
The cave suddenly felt too small, the air too heavy.
“We should record everything,” I said quickly, crouching to reach for my camera.
“We’ll need evidence for Paul and the others.
If this orb can create air, we can bring instruments down safely, get proper footage–”
“Maelis.” His voice stopped me, low and steady. “You are shaking.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, even as my hands trembled over the camera housing. “Just cold.”
He stepped closer. “You are not cold. You are frightened.”
I looked up sharply, ready to deny it, but the words caught in my throat. Not because he was wrong – but because it wasn’t the cave, or the memory orb, or the strange, ancient light that scared me.
It was him. What I felt when he looked at me like that. What it meant.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said quietly.
His eyes bored into me. "Then what are you scared of?"
I couldn't tell him. It was too embarrassing. Too cruel. I knew how desperate he and his kind were. I should be happy for him. Delighted, even. But I was not a good person. I couldn't give him my happiness, nor the unknown woman.
Actually, I was a terrible person. Because I despised her. Hoped he'd never meet her. Wished her all sorts of bad things.
Because I was selfish.
I wanted him.
I forced myself to move. “We should go. The air won’t last forever.”
He nodded, but there was something unreadable in his expression as he turned back to the sphere, running one last hand across its glowing surface. The symbols dimmed at his touch, and the hum softened until it was barely audible.
As we packed our gear and prepared to leave, I couldn’t stop glancing back. The orb seemed to watch us, its faint light following our movements.
Was it judging me? Or would it give me its blessing if I fought for what was mine?