16. Shall we feel you again?

In the cold, deep waters, a sweet melodic laughter echoed softly, vibrating like a lost song in the ocean. The elder, with his tired crimson eyes, sighed deeply, his robust body moving slowly as if carrying the weight of countless eras.

— They are so amusing, Elder. They are the cutest babies I have ever seen,

said the young mermaid, her silver hair floating like strands of submerged moonlight.

— I understand that you like these children,

the elder responded, his deep voice almost like a roar muffled by the waters,

— but aren’t you pushing yourself too hard to see them almost every day?

— Don't worry, I'm using very little power,

she smiled, sitting on her iridescent pearl bed, whose soft tones reflected the faint light around. But her expression changed as she noticed the exhausted look on the elder’s face.

— What's wrong? Didn't you sleep well last night?

The old one closed his eyes for a moment, as if reliving something painful, before releasing another sigh.

— I slept, little star… but I saw something I wish I hadn’t.

The mermaid tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes shining with curiosity and concern.

— Something bad, Elder?

He hesitated. When he opened his eyes again, they seemed heavier, burdened with dark memories.

— I saw a people of this sea destroying each other. Another of the ancient weapons your ancestors created was claimed… through blood.

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She gasped, her tail shimmering as she stirred in nervousness, dissolving into legs that trembled in the water.

— N-No, not again! They never understand! We made them to protect, not to kill!

The old one slowly approached and, without warning, gave her a light flick on the forehead. Small bubbles escaped her mouth from the shock.

— It doesn’t matter if a weapon was made to protect or to kill, child. Weapons do not choose their wielders… nor those who desire them.

— But… but they lose power if they aren’t used for the right purpose!

she retorted, rubbing her forehead.

The elder watched her for a long moment before replying, his voice laden with wisdom.

— Child, a "right purpose" has never been defined by just one person. Every weapon will always have one destiny: to harm. And that is why, for so long, I have asked you to stop enchanting them.

She opened her mouth to protest but stopped, feeling warm, salty tears mix with the cold water around her until they became more pearls upon the bed. The elder sighed again but, this time, gently wiped the tears from her eyes.

— You always cry like a child when scolded… It’s been years since you’ve mourned for those you tried to help. And yet, you never learn, do you?

The young one sniffled, releasing small bubbles as she wiped her nose. Her gaze, however, was resolute.

— This time will be different.

The elder raised an eyebrow.

— Child…

— It will be different!

she interrupted, her voice echoing strong in the ocean's silence.

— Because I saw! I saw someone… someone who looks like me.

The old one blinked, surprised, and his tone shifted, taking on an unexpected gravity.

— How…?!

— He has powers even I don't understand, but I feel it… He is like me. Something in him is the same as me.

Silence stretched between them. The elder furrow , as if piecing together lost thoughts from the past.

— This is impossible... The blood has long been diluted, there’s no way... Unless...

— What?

the mermaid asked, anxious.

The elder leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of astonishment and hope.

— A new lineage... was born.

— What does that mean?

she questioned, her heart racing.

— It means the other elders are listening to us from the stars... and maybe, just maybe, they’re giving us a chance to leave this place.

The young one’s eyes widened.

— But... it’s been years since we’ve heard anything from them!

— This is madness... — murmured the elder, but a small smile formed on his tired lips.

For a long moment, they both just looked up. The ocean around them remained dark, impenetrable... but at that moment, both felt it. Something vibrated deep in their hearts, a forgotten warmth, a distant promise.

The change had begun.