Light under the ocean

Ayla had been feeling strange lately, strange in a way that didn’t hurt, but wouldn’t leave her alone either. It sat under her ribs like a barely-there vibration, soft yet persistent, as if something far away was brushing against her thoughts. She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself.

“Sometimes…” Her voice trailed off before she tried again, gentler. “Sometimes it feels like someone is calling me. From deep down in the sea.”

As she spoke, her eyes drifted toward the horizon. Her gaze stretched far beyond the bright shallows, past the drifting reefs and the shimmer of the surface, down into the dark water she had never touched. That distant depth tugged at her like an invisible thread. Whenever she looked that way, her heartbeat slowed a little, as if answering something she didn’t yet understand.

“Are you sure about what you’re feeling?” Pun-Hmorg asked quietly, concern tightening her expression.

Ayla didn’t answer right away. Lately, she’d been happening upon herself staring into nothing for long minutes at a time, lost in that soft pull inside her chest. Other Phosrays had begun whispering about it, how she sat alone on the reef at sunset, not blinking, not moving, as if listening to a voice none of them could hear. And they weren’t wrong. Ayla was listening… though she had no words for what she was listening to.

The fire-winged cat sighed gently. “Is it dangerous?”

Ayla closed her eyes for a moment. She tried to sort through the feeling the way one sifts through patterns in the tide - slowly, patiently, letting whatever was true rise to the surface. There was no fear in it. Just warmth, faint and steady, like a lullaby hummed through water.

Finally, she shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she murmured. “It doesn’t feel threatening. If anything… it feels kind. Whenever I sit here, it’s like the call quiets the noise inside me. It makes me calm.”

She pressed a hand lightly to her chest, as if trying to hold that strange gentleness in place.

“I don’t know what it is,” she whispered, “but it doesn’t feel wrong.”

“So what do you think about going there and getting it checked out?” Pun-Hmorg suggested. “I mean, if you feel like it won’t really harm you, then it should be fine? I think so?”

Seeing Ayla’s face light up, Pun-Hmorg knew that she had made up her mind. So he continued, his voice extremely warm and gentle. “I will take you close to that area and wait for you at the surface. Just promise me that you will always return to the surface immediately if you feel anything threatening you.”

“I promise! This is something I’m really grateful for, Pun-Hmorg. Thank you!”

Ayla’s small body hugged Pun-Hmorg’s front leg. The cat smiled and used her other paw to gently pat the little Phosray’s back.

And now they were here at the surface of the sea, with a deep abyss yawning below. Pun-Hmorg, still anxious, reminded Ayla to be careful of any danger before finally letting her slip into the water. Ayla gave the cat a reassuring look before diving fully beneath the surface.

The night ocean was lit by a veil of moonlight that filtered down from above, making the first stretch of her descent easy enough. But the farther she swam, the more the light thinned, gradually surrendering to endless darkness. A faint shiver passed through her, yet it did nothing to halt her path.

She didn’t know how long she had been descending when suddenly the world around her became nothing but pure, impenetrable black. And in that silence, she heard it again - the call - clearer and stronger than before. The fear she once had was gone. All she knew was that she had to keep moving forward.

And she was right. A soft glimmer appeared below, a pale streak of light blooming at the bottom of the abyss. At first Ayla couldn’t make out what it was, but as she drew closer, realization dawned.

They were constellation fish. Truly rare beings, Ayla had only ever seen two constellation rays in her entire life. Yet here they were, an entire school of them, dozens upon dozens, drifting like living stars.

Ayla was left breathless by the sight. The constellation fish seemed to sense her presence and swam joyfully around her. Bathed in their radiance - powerful, bright, and full of life - Ayla’s own body shimmered in harmony. She felt warmth threading through her limbs. The old legend was true: constellation fish could heal Phosrays.

Overjoyed, Ayla wrapped her arms around the nearest one, letting the brilliant creatures carry her gently back toward the surface. When they emerged, the entire dark sea glittered like the Milky Way itself, startling Pun-Hmorg.

The reunion ended far too soon, and it was time for Ayla to return to her quarters. Pun-Hmorg glanced back at the Phosray now sleeping soundly on his back and wondered softly to himself, “This should be fine, right?”