Selkia: A Heart of Storm and Sea

Chapter One: Love and Origin

I can remember it like yesterday.

The bay stretched wide and golden, cradled by the towering cliffs of Narrabeen Head Aquatic Reserve. The ocean moved in rhythmic pulses, rolling gently onto the shore before retreating in soft, foamy whispers. The sandstone cliffs loomed high above, their edges sculpted by wind and time, standing like ancient sentinels watching over the sea. Beyond them, the sky opened vast and endless, the deep blue horizon melting into the waves. Here, where the land curved to meet the water, everything slowed—the wind, the tide, even time itself. It was a quiet, secret place, where the sea breathed and the world listened.

And it was ours.

Kai was unlike anyone I had ever known. He moved through the water with effortless grace, his tail sleek and powerful, cut from the deepest blues of the sea. The currents bent to him, as if the ocean itself knew his name. His silver eyes gleamed with something untamed, something wild, as if he belonged to the storms and not just the tides.

He lived in Freshwater, a deep trench hidden beyond the cliffs, but he never stayed in one place for long. There was always an adventure waiting, another reef to explore, another secret carved into the seabed. He carried stories like the ocean carried waves—each one different, each one fleeting, but all a part of something vast and endless.

I was drawn to him, not just because of the way he swam—like the ocean had made him to race the currents—but because he was always searching for more. More of the world, more of the unknown, more of the mysteries hidden beneath the waves.

We spent our days diving through the caves at Manly’s Shelly Beach, tracing the paths of stingrays over the sandy floors, and weaving through the hidden reefs at North Head. At night, we sat on the rocks above Freshwater, watching the waves shimmer with bioluminescence, the sea alive beneath the stars.

He wanted to see everything, swim everywhere, and touch the ocean like it would let him keep a piece of it.

But some waters are never meant to hold one thing forever.

One night, Kai's expression changed as the moon stretched a silver path across the water. It was in the set of his jaw, the way his fingers traced circles in the waves.

“My family is moving,” he said finally, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it. “Back to the Pacific, back to the deep waters near Lanikai.”

The words felt heavier than any current. I had always known he belonged to the vastness of the sea, to the places I had never been. But that didn’t make the ache any softer.

The next few days were a blur of sunrises and goodbyes. We swam, we explored, we pretended things weren’t changing. But the ocean always moves forward, and so did Kai.

And when he left, I had to move forward, too.

Chapter Two: The New Tide

I followed the currents north, past Byron Bay, past the golden sands of the Sunshine Coast, past reefs that shimmered like jewels beneath the waves.

And then, I found Mermaid Beach.

The water here was warmer, the reefs stretched wide, and the tides moved differently—wilder and freer. The ocean had a different rhythm here, and I liked it.

And so did Nerina.

She was my cousin, though we hadn't spent much time together in years. She had always been different—sharp-eyed, fast-moving, her tail flicking with energy like the ocean itself.

But something about her had changed.

One day, I drifted through her reef and saw them—tiny glass bottles, plastic tubes, and jars nestled in the seagrass.

I picked up a cracked serum bottle; the label faded by the salt. "Nerina," I called. "What is all this?"

She glanced over, then sighed. "That's just my collection."

I narrowed my eyes. "Collection?"

She swam over, plucking a floating lipstick from the water. "I found them drifting near Burleigh Beach. There's more, Selkia. A lot more."

She led me to a trench near the reefs, and what I saw made my stomach twist. Piles of beauty product waste—bottles, tubes, jars—were lying there, things that didn't belong in the ocean.

A slow anger burned in my chest.

I met Nerina's gaze. "We have to do something."

She hesitated. "Like what?"

I straightened. "We clean this up. And we stop it from happening again."

She let out a laugh. "Selkia, we're just two mermaids."

I flicked my tail toward the horizon. "Then let's be the two mermaids who change everything."

Chapter Three: The Ocean Guardians

Cleaning the ocean was not a glamorous job.

Nerina and I discovered this the hard way when we found ourselves untangling a horrifyingly large cluster of fishing lines, plastic, and—of all things—a deflated blow-up flamingo float.

Nerina wrinkled her nose. "I swear the landfolk are obsessed with these creatures."

I tugged at the mess, my tail flicking in frustration. "If they love flamingos so much, why keep drowning them?"

"Maybe it's some weird landfolk ritual," Nerina said, deadpan. "First, they buy it. Then, they ride it. Then, they sacrifice it to the sea."

A choked laugh burst out of me. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

She smirked. "Yet here we are, recovering Flamingo Victim Number Eight this week."

With a final yank, we freed the float. It bobbed to the surface like a pink ghost.

Mako, the overly enthusiastic bottlenose dolphin, zipped past, clicking loudly. "You won't believe this! I made a friend!"

I braced myself. "Mako… please tell me it's not another jellyfish."

"Nope!" He spun in a circle and whistled excitedly. "A human!"

Nerina and I froze.

"A… human?" I repeated slowly.

"Yes! She surfs, and she's super cool. She calls me Splice because she says I remind her of a mango ice cream or something."

Nerina burst out laughing. "Splice? Oh, I love this girl already."

Mako ignored her. "She doesn't litter, and she's been pulling trash out of the ocean. She's one of the good ones."

That caught my attention.

Most landfolk barely noticed the ocean's suffering. If this surfer girl cared enough to clean the water, maybe there were others like her.

"What's her name?" I asked.

Mako clicked proudly. "Lena."

A week later, we met Lena.

She was paddling near the reef, picking up a drifting plastic bag and stuffing it into a netted sack attached to her surfboard. Her movements were slow, careful—not just riding the waves, but listening to them.

"She talks to me," Mako whispered excitedly. "Like, actual conversations. She says she wants to protect the ocean. And get this—she's not alone."

It turns out that Lena was part of a group of surfers, divers, and marine conservationists—the Slow Rolla Club.

They had started as a small crew of ocean lovers frustrated by the rising pollution in Australian waters. They weren't flashy and didn't work fast, but their patience and commitment to small, steady change had grown into something huge.

They weren't waiting for someone else to clean it up. They were taking action themselves.

And now, so were we.

One day, as we swam near Burleigh Beach, Talu, the wise old turtle, guided us toward a reef teeming with life. Schools of parrotfish nibbled at the coral, and tiny clownfish darted between anemones. The world here pulsed with color and movement, a sanctuary where the sea thrived. But something was off—the coral, though strong, had lost some of its vibrancy.

Esha, the manta ray, looped gracefully above us. “This reef has seen better days,” she mused. “We’ve been swimming farther to find the best spots.”

Lena and her Slow Rolla friends were paddling nearby. They had become part of our world, just as we had become part of theirs. When they saw us gathered, they veered their boards in our direction.

“We should plan another trip up north,” Lena said, kicking her feet in the water. “The reefs near Rainbow Beach and Lady Elliot Island are incredible.”

Nerina flicked her tail excitedly. “And Tangalooma! Remember the time Mako nearly got swallowed by a pod of dolphins?”

Mako huffed. “They were showing off. I let them win.”

Tommo, one of the surfers, grinned. “Right, mate. Just like when you ‘let’ me beat you in that wave race at Noosa.”

Mako smirked. “We both know I got distracted by a particularly good-looking angelfish.”

Talu chuckled. “You lot are always up to something.”

We had built something special here—a crew that spanned land and sea. We explored shipwrecks near Moreton Island, surfed the rolling waves of Snapper Rocks, and swam through forests of kelp farther south. Every trip strengthened the bond between oceanfolk and landfolk, proving that we weren’t so different after all.

Lena leaned back on her board, gazing at the horizon. “You know, people say the ocean connects everything. I think they’re right.”

I smiled, feeling the water move around me. “Then let’s keep exploring it. Together.”

And just like that, the Slow Rolla Club and the Ocean Guardians became one, not just to protect the sea, but to celebrate it. To live in it, to adventure through it, and to remind the world above that the ocean wasn’t just something to admire—it was something to be a part of.

Chapter Four: The Echoes of the Past

It began as a whisper.

A shift in the currents. I felt like someone calling my name.

Then came the memories.

Flashes of bioluminescence. The salt on Kai's skin. His tail cut through the water like a shadow in the night.

I was seeing him again, but only in my mind.

Or so I thought.

One night, as I swam through the reefs, I felt a pulse in the tide, like something familiar was moving through the water.

And for the first time in years, I knew I wasn't alone.

The realisation hit me like an unexpected current. I stopped mid-swim, my tail stirring the sand below. It wasn't unusual for me to sense shifts in the water—whales sang secrets across the deep, dolphins gossiped in rapid clicks, and the tide itself whispered of what lay beyond. But this? This was different. The ocean was trying to remind me of something I had long buried.

I shook it off at first. Maybe I was overthinking. I may have spent too much time sorting plastic debris from the reefs and not enough time. But the feeling didn't fade. It clung to me, wrapped around my ribs like a persistent eel refusing to let go.

"Alright," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "This is ridiculous."

Mako, the ever-observant dolphin, glided up beside me. "Talking to yourself again, Selkia?" His voice had that teasing lilt that meant he was enjoying my inner turmoil a little too much.

"I think I'm being haunted," I said dramatically, flipping onto my back. "Either that or I've finally lost it."

Mako snorted, sending a stream of bubbles into the water. "Lost it? That ship sailed ages ago."

I flicked my tail, splashing him, but he dodged it with an infuriatingly graceful spin. "I'm serious. The ocean feels... different."

Lena, our resident human ally, swam with a net of plastic bottles she'd collected from the shore. She adjusted her diving mask and peered at me. "You're acting weird. What's up?"

I sighed. "I keep feeling something. Like something familiar is in the water. But I don't know what."

Lena glanced at Mako, who gave a noncommittal shrug. "Well," she said, pushing her mask onto her forehead, "last time I had a weird feeling, I found a shark tooth in my wetsuit. Maybe check your scales for ghosts?"

Before I could argue, Nerina arrived, her eyes bright with amusement. "Selkia, just say what's really on your mind."

I crossed my arms. "Fine. I think—" I hesitated, then huffed. "I think Kai is back."

Silence.

The water between us seemed to hold its breath.

Nerina's smirk faded into something softer. Mako's playful glint disappeared. Even Lena, who knew only pieces of my past, sobered.

Then, as if the ocean had been waiting for me to admit it, the tide surged—just slightly, just enough.

And suddenly, I knew. I wasn't imagining things. I wasn't making it up.

Kai was here.

Chapter Five: The Return

The storm came without warning.

The skyline of Surfers Paradise stood silhouetted against a bruised sky. Thick and swollen, rolling clouds pressed over the horizon like a great tidal wave ready to break. A sudden, eerie hush spread over the waters as if the ocean held its breath.

Then, the wind roared, bending the towering palm trees along the shore and rattling the windows in the buildings lining the coastline. A violent gust slammed into the waves, sending walls of water crashing toward the reefs, swallowing the beach's golden sands. Lightning forked across the sky, illuminating the chaos for a moment before plunging the world into darkness again.

I had been swimming near the cove when the surge hit. The sea flipped on itself, dragging me downward with terrifying force. The churning waters spat me against the jagged rocks of an underwater cavern. The world narrowed into howling winds, roaring currents, and the crushing weight of the sea.

I fought, but the storm was relentless. My tail caught in the jagged coral, pain flaring through me as I struggled to free myself. I gasped, but the water filled my lungs.

Then, through the chaos, I saw him.

Kai.

He cut through the storm like he belonged to it, his silver eyes glowing in the darkness. His form was stronger than before, the years having shaped him into something unbreakable. His presence was a force, undeniable and unrelenting.

He reached for me, pulling at the coral that trapped me. I felt his strength against the storm, his determination pressing through the darkness.

"You're not leaving me again," he said, his voice steady despite the raging sea.

With a final push, the coral broke, and I was free. He wrapped an arm around me, guiding me through the maelstrom as we fought against the tide together.

And then, suddenly, we surfaced. The air was sharp and fresh, the wind screaming above us as the storm raged. The buildings of Surfers Paradise loomed behind the rain, flickering neon through the downpour. But we were safe. Together.

I turned to him, breathless, the salt of the ocean between us.

"I never stopped looking for you," I whispered, my voice barely louder than the waves between us.

He met my gaze, no words needed. It was as if no time had passed, as if the ocean had carried us back to where we were always meant to be.

Chapter Six: A Love For All

Love is not just a feeling but a current, unstoppable force that moves through all things. It is the tide that pulls us back to where we belong. The whisper in the waves, the warmth of the sun touching the water, the laughter shared beneath the surface.

Together, we restored the reefs. Kai, Nerina, Mako, Talu, Esha, Lir, Lena, and I—an unbreakable circle of guardians. What began as a small effort grew into something vast. The Slow Rolla Club had expanded across the coast, drawing more humans and merfolk into the cause. There were divers, surfers, and marine biologists who worked alongside us, their hands collecting the waste that did not belong in the ocean, their voices carrying our message further than we could alone.

The ocean gave us everything. And in return, we gave it something back—not just our care, but our devotion, our commitment to protect what had always been our home. The reefs flourished, the waters cleared, and I found what I had thought was lost in the midst of it all.

Kai had never truly left me. Even in the years apart, even across the vastness of the sea, he had remained in the tides, in the echoes of the waves, in the pull of the moon above us. Love, after all, does not dissipate. It changes, it shifts, but it does not disappear.

And love is not just between two souls. It is in the friendships we build, in the bonds we share with those who walk, swim, and fly alongside us. It is in the planet we call home, in every living thing that depends on the rhythm of the ocean, in the way we care for one another, human and mer alike.

As I swam beside Kai, the sky clear above us, the moonlight rippling on the waves, I knew this truth as deeply as I knew the tides: We belong to the sea and each other. To the ones who have shaped us, the world we strive to protect, and the love that carries us forward.

And so we moved with the ocean, forever and always.