The Lantern Beneath the Hollow Tide

The first night Mara Ellin saw the lantern glow under the surface of the dark water, she thought it was only the moon breaking apart across the tide. She had returned to the coastal village of Greyharbor for reasons she could not name aloud, and the sea greeted her the same way it had when she was a child. It breathed. It waited. It whispered to her in the same trembling hush that always sounded like her name.

Mist rolled through the narrow streets as she walked back toward the inn. The scent of brine clung to her coat, and the lapping sound of the tide followed. For a moment she turned back toward the shoreline, the water stretching into the black distance like a sheet of polished obsidian. Something faint pulsed beneath the waves. A wavering light. A lantern. But it could not be. Lanterns did not burn underwater.

She closed her eyes. When she opened them, the light was gone.

Mara had come because her mother once said their family bloodline was knotted with the sea, that something in their history was not meant to rest on land. She had dismissed it then. But lately, her dreams had been filled with silver eyes watching from beneath the tide. She had woken each time with a rush of cold air around her, as if the ocean itself had surged through her lungs.

Back at the inn, she checked in with a distracted voice and climbed to her room. She lay awake long after the lanterns were put out in the hallway. The dreams found her again. The silver eyes. The chill. A voice whispering You returned.

The next morning she went down to the rocky beach before dawn. The tide was low. The fog clung to the water in swirling ribbons. And there, walking along the edge of the shore barefoot despite the cold, was a man she had never seen before.

He was tall, with dark hair damp as though he had stepped directly out of the sea. His clothing looked worn, almost timeless, and his skin was pale in a way that was not sickly but luminous, as if lit from within. When he turned, she nearly gasped. His eyes were silver. The same silver as in her dreams.

He paused, one foot still in the water, and looked at her as though he had always known her name. A quiet wind lifted. The sound of the tide hushed.

You returned.

Mara stepped back. Those words had followed her through her sleep, echoing around her skull like a chant.

Do I know you? she asked.

He tilted his head slightly, as if tasting each moment before choosing to speak. Not yet. But you knew me once.

His voice was calm, deep, and strange, as if his words belonged to two worlds at once.

Mara forced a breath. Her heartbeat struggled to keep steady. She had come to Greyharbor for answers, not riddles from a haunting stranger with eyes that reflected her nightmares.

I think you have me confused with someone else, she said.

He shook his head. I do not confuse. He looked back to the water. The tide shifts because of you. The Hollow Tide is waking.

She had not heard that name in years. Hollow Tide. A local legend. A strange phenomenon said to occur only once every century when the sea pulled back farther than nature allowed, revealing things that should not see daylight.

Mara narrowed her eyes. How do you know who I am?

He approached slowly, the water sliding off him without wetting the sand. My name is Caelen. I am bound to the sea. And to you.

She stiffened. Bound to the sea? To her? She wanted to leave. To run. But something inside her held still as if listening. She felt the air pressure change, felt the tide’s pull on her ribs. Caelen stopped a few paces away and lowered his gaze.

You saw the lantern last night.

Her breath caught. No one else had been on the beach. She had told no one.

The lantern revealed me to you. To your blood. It awakens only when a descendant of the Ellin line returns to Greyharbor.

Mara stepped forward despite herself. Her mother had spoken of old family myths. Tales of a pact made generations ago between a daughter of the Ellin family and a spirit of the sea. A pact to protect the coast when the Hollow Tide rose. Every story had seemed poetic nonsense, words shaped to comfort frightened children.

There is no pact, she whispered. Just stories.

Caelen lifted his eyes. The stories came from truth. And that truth is returning.

Mara took another breath but it felt thin. She pushed past him and walked along the shore. Caelen followed at a respectful distance as if he knew she would not tolerate being chased.

You should not be alone near the water, he said quietly. The Hollow Tide stirs the ones that sleep beneath.

She spun around. You sound like one of the villagers telling old ghost tales.

They do not know what you are, Caelen said. They do not know what I am.

He stepped closer. This time she did not move away. Something in the air between them tightened. The wind paused. Her blood warmed as though responding to him in a language she did not understand.

Tell me, she challenged softly.

Caelen looked toward the horizon where the first thin streaks of orange rose. I am the lanterns keeper. The last of those who watch the passage between the mortal shore and the deep realm. When the Hollow Tide comes, the veil shifts. Spirits can cross. Shadows awaken. And one among the Ellin bloodline must stand with the lantern keeper to seal the rift.

Mara shook her head. That is impossible.

Caelen held her gaze. You came because something called you. You dreamed of me. You felt the tide. You know this is no dream.

She had no answer. The truth pressed against her chest in a slow, suffocating way.

Caelen looked down at the water as it lapped at his feet. I have waited a long time for you to return.

Why me?

Because you carry her blood.

Mara blinked. Whose?

The woman your family forgot. The one they buried in stories. The one who once saved this coast with the lantern keeper of her time.

My ancestor.

Caelen nodded. She loved the lantern keeper. And she died to keep the realms separate. Her sacrifice sealed the rift for a century.

Cold washed over Mara. What does any of this have to do with me?

The silver in his eyes brightened. You carry her calling.

I carry no calling. I am not part of any prophecy. I am not some chosen person. I am just here because I was tired of my life falling apart and I needed distance.

Caelen paused. Even that was guided. The sea brought you home.

The sense of inevitability pressed on her. She hated how part of her believed every word he said. She felt it deep in her bones, a truth older than logic.

Mara turned away, trying to steady her breath. I need time.

You will have it, Caelen said. But not much. The Hollow Tide rises soon.

That day, she spent hours wandering Greyharbor. The markets buzzed with fishermen preparing for a coming storm they could not name. The sky darkened early, and the smell of salt grew sharper. Everywhere she went she saw glimmers of light near the edge of her vision, faint pulses like reflections on water.

By sunset, she returned to the beach. Caelen was waiting. His presence no longer startled her, but it still unsettled her. He stood with the lantern in his hand. It looked simple, old, crafted of iron and glass, but the flame inside was unlike any she had seen. It shimmered with a pale blue glow.

This is the lantern that binds the rift, he said. Your ancestor held it with me once. It recognizes your blood.

She hesitated. And what happens if I refuse?

Caelen lowered his gaze. Then the Hollow Tide will rise unopposed. The realm beneath will open, and the spirits sleeping in the deep will cross into this world. They are not gentle. They hunger for the warmth of life.

Mara hugged her arms around herself. And you? What happens to you?

His voice softened. I am bound to the lantern. If the rift breaks, I break as well.

Her stomach tightened. Despite how little she knew him, something about that thought hurt. It felt wrong. It felt like losing someone she had known forever.

Caelen stepped closer. He lifted the lantern slightly, and its glow shimmered across her face. You are not alone in this. You never were. Your ancestor stands with you. Her blood lives in you. The sea chose you because it remembers her love.

Mara swallowed. Why do you talk like you know her so well? She lived centuries ago.

His voice lowered to a whisper. I was the lantern keeper then.

The world paused. Mara felt the air drain from her lungs. You knew her?

I loved her.

Jealousy flickered inside her chest, sharp and unfamiliar. She hated that she felt it. She barely knew this man. This strange, timeless, impossible man. But the words still stung.

And you expect me to replace her? she said bitterly.

Caelen stepped back, hurt flickering across his face. No. You are not her. And I would never ask that. But you share her courage. Her heart. And something has awakened between us that is not the same as what was before.

Mara looked away, her pulse racing. She did not want to feel anything for him. She had returned here broken from an ended relationship, from a life that felt hollow. The last thing she wanted was another entanglement. Yet, his presence stirred something inside her she could not deny.

He extended his hand. Walk with me. I will show you what lies beneath the tide.

She hesitated but finally placed her hand in his. His skin was cool, not cold, and the moment their fingers touched a pulse of warmth shot up her arm. They walked toward the water, and the sea glowed faintly around their feet. The lantern lit the waves in a soft blue trail.

The world blurred and then shifted. Suddenly they were standing beneath the ocean without drowning. A dome of shimmering light surrounded them, cast by the lantern. The water outside looked alive with swirling shadows.

This is the rift, Caelen said quietly. When the Hollow Tide reaches its peak, this barrier weakens. The shadows try to cross.

The shadows twisted like living smoke, each shape pressing against the barrier as if searching for a crack.

What are they? Mara whispered.

Spirits that were never meant to belong to either realm. They hunger for warmth because they are trapped in eternal cold. Your ancestor closed the rift before they escaped.

A shadow slammed against the barrier. Mara flinched. Caelen stepped closer to her instinctively.

These spirits sense your blood. They are drawn to you. The closer the Hollow Tide gets, the more aggressive they will become.

She looked up at him. So how do we stop them?

We seal the rift before the tide peaks. Together. With the lantern bound to you and me.

How do we bind it?

The lantern must accept your blood. You must light it. Once you do, we are connected. The lantern keeper and the chosen bearer.

What does that connection do?

Caelen hesitated. It shares our strength and our fate. If one falls, so does the other.

Mara stared at him. You already lost someone you loved to this. I will not be the next.

Caelen’s voice softened. I do not want to lose you. I have waited centuries in darkness with only the memory of light. If I lose you, there will be nothing left of me at all.

Her breath shook.

The dome flickered slightly, and he stepped close to steady her. His presence warmed her chest. She felt safe even with the monsters swirling outside.

Come back with me, he said. We will prepare. The Hollow Tide is only hours away.

The world blurred again, and they were back on the beach. Night had fallen. The storm clouds churned above like bruised shadows. The wind whipped around them as if trying to warn her away.

Mara looked at him, at the lantern glowing in his hand. She thought of the villagers, of her mother, of all the nights she had woken trembling. She thought of the silver eyes that had haunted her before she ever met him.

Caelen watched her with quiet intensity. You do not have to accept this. But if you choose to, you will not face the darkness alone.

She reached forward. Her hand hovered over the lantern flame. Caelen placed his hand over hers, guiding her gently.

The lantern will only ignite for you if your heart accepts the bond. Not the destiny. Not the duty. Me.

Her chest tightened. She felt the weight of his words settle deep.

I do not know you, she whispered. Not enough.

You know me more than you think. The dreams were not memories but echoes. Our souls recognize each other. They always have.

A tear slipped down her cheek. She did not know why. But she knew she could not walk away.

Her fingers touched the lantern flame.

A surge of warmth flooded her body, spreading through her veins like liquid fire. The flame changed color, turning into a brilliant silver blue, bright enough to cast long shadows across the sand.

Caelen inhaled sharply. The lantern recognizes you.

Their hands were still touching the lantern. Their eyes locked. Mara felt the air shift, felt something bind them together like a thread woven through their hearts.

What now? she whispered.

Now, Caelen said, voice trembling slightly, we face the Hollow Tide.

The sea roared as if awakened. The water began to pull back unnaturally, exposing stretches of ocean floor that should never see the air. The sky darkened until it looked like midnight.

Shadows rose from the exposed depths, swirling, screaming without sound. The rift opened like a silver wound in the world.

Caelen lifted the lantern, and the flame blazed. Mara felt its power resonate with her pulse. He reached for her free hand.

Stay with me. No matter what happens. Stay with me.

She nodded.

Together they stepped into the receding sea. The lantern’s light formed a dome again, but this time it flickered violently as the spirits hurled themselves against it. The rift pulsed, widening.

Mara felt a sudden cold slash through her chest. She staggered. Caelen caught her, holding her steady.

The rift is drawing on you, he said. It senses the bearer.

She grit her teeth. Then let it sense me. Because I am ending this.

She pushed forward. Caelen steadied her. The lantern’s flame flared brighter with every step. The shadows screamed silently, clawing against the barrier.

Finally they reached the heart of the rift. It swirled like a vortex of silver and black.

Raise the lantern, Caelen said. I will anchor the seal.

Mara lifted the lantern with trembling arms. The flame surged.

The shadows shrieked. The rift twisted violently.

Caelen stepped behind her, placing his hands over hers around the lantern handle. Their bodies aligned. Their heartbeats merged.

You are strong enough, he whispered. I will not let you fall.

The lantern erupted with pure light. Mara felt her soul rush outward. She felt the rift pulling at her, trying to take her inside. Caelen held her tight, grounding her against the force.

The flame burst into a beam that struck the center of the rift. The wound in the world convulsed. The spirits recoiled, shrieking.

Hold on to me, Caelen shouted.

I am, Mara cried through the force of the light. I am not letting go.

The rift began to collapse, folding inward like a dying star. The shadows screamed one final time and dissolved. The barrier sealed with a thunderous boom.

The world went quiet.

The lantern dimmed.

Mara collapsed, gasping. Caelen caught her before she hit the ground. He held her close, his breath trembling against her hair.

You did it, he whispered. You closed it.

Her body shook. She turned weakly in his arms, looking up into his silver eyes.

Are you still bound? she whispered.

His expression softened with something like wonder. Yes. But now I am bound to life, not the rift.

Mara exhaled a shaky breath. And me?

Bound to me, he said gently if you choose.

She felt warmth spread through her again, softer this time. She leaned against him.

I choose it, she whispered.

Caelen closed his eyes, relief pouring through every line of his face. He pressed his forehead to hers.

Then I will walk with you in your world, Mara Ellin. And you will never face the darkness alone again.

The sea rolled back to its natural line as dawn broke across the horizon. The lantern glowed softly between them, its flame no longer a burden but a promise.

Together they walked out of the water, hand in hand, into the rising light of a world saved and a bond that no tide could ever wash away.