Chapter 4 The Isle That Remembers

As if the sea had a voice, it didn't shout or roar; it whispered quietly and softly, like secrets shared under a dark sky full of stars. As Lyra leaned over the edge of the small boat, saltwater mist clinging to her eyelashes, she could almost hear it calling her name.

"Lyra..."

She blinked and turned to Ethan, who was sitting beside her. "Are you calling me?"

He shook his head, his face pale from blood loss. "The sea is calling you," he said. You'll hear it more often."

They had been moving slowly for hours. The sky was now a deep purple, and the stars above twinkled with a strange brightness. Below them, the ocean seemed endless, glowing softly like a hidden world beneath the waves.

"Where is the Isle of Echoes?" Lyra asked, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"Somewhere between memory and myth," Ethan replied quietly. "It moves and isn't found on maps."

"That's not very reassuring."

He offered a faint smile. "It's the only place left where we will not be hunted."

As the boat sailed forward, Lyra began to catch glimpses of shapes beneath the water figures twisting and turning in the ocean like dancers in moonlight, far too graceful and creepy to be ordinary fish. Once, she thought she saw a face, old and ghostly, staring up at her with empty eyes.

"Don't stare for too long," Ethan warned her. "The drowned remember."

"The drowned?" She imitates, confusingly.

"The ones who tried to cross but the journey wasn't meant for them, the sea keeps their memories."

Lyra looked away, her heart racing furiously.

Suddenly, a wave crashed against the side of the boat, making them bump into each other.

The air changed around them.

The sky brightened strangely. The stars seemed to rotate and shift. Then, through a gap of light on the horizon, an island came into view.

Dark cliffs appear high, surrounded by fog. At the top of the tallest cliff, a silhouette appeared, an old tower with crooked spires reaching toward the sky.

Lyra holds the edge of the boat. "That's it?"

Ethan nodded. "The Isle of Echoes."

As soon as the boat touched the shore, it vanished, turning into fog as if it had never been there.

Lyra stepped onto the black sand.

The air felt colder, filled with echoes, not sounds, but feelings, Sadness, Memories, and Grief that didn't belong to her, like a place that was surrounded by wrath

Ethan stumbled slightly but steadied himself.

"We need to hurry," he said urgently."The longer we stay near the edge, the easier it is for them to find us."

"Who's 'them'?" Lyra asked, but he didn't reply to her.

They climbed up a narrow path through thick fog. Strange trees, twisted by time and wind, lined their way. Some dripped silver sap that shone in the light. Other trees leaned towards each other, whispering strange words in voices that felt out of place.

"Ethan," she murmured, "are these trees... alive,? They are talking"

"They're memory trees. They take in whispers from those who have been lost. You'll get used to them with time."

"I'm not sure how I can adapt to it". She said

They arrived at a stone archway, covered in leaf climbers. Above it, they saw a writing "Remember so we may remain." engraved on a stone.

Suddenly, two figures emerged from the mist guardians of the island.

Lyra stepped back impulsively.

One guardian was a woman with skin as pale as the moon and eyes like shimmering glass. "Who dares approach the sanctuary?" she asked.

Ethan stood tall. "I am Ethan Night, the last of the Tidewardens. I bring her here."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Bring her?"

Ethan turned to Mary. "This is Lyra Raven, daughter of Liora Raven."

The other guardian, an older man with stormy gray eyes, gasped. "That name is sacred here."

Lyra lifted her chin, filled with determination and confidence "I'm not here to disrespect it. I want to learn and understand it since I'm her daughter."

The guardians exchanged glances.

Then they stepped aside.

"You may enter."

Lyra and Ethan stepped through the archway, and suddenly the island transformed-the fog lifted, revealing a breathtaking world that Lyra had never imagined or dreamt about.

The sanctuary was built into the cliffs, a city made of stone and water. Buildings rose like giant coral formations, their walls decorated with glowing symbols that sparkled in the moonlight. Water flowed in channels along the streets, softly telling stories from long ago.

Children played with glowing fish, while older men sat by pools of memory, dipping their fingers in to revisit moments from their past. Women moved gracefully in and out of tall towers, their flowing robes resembling gentle sea foam.

Everything felt alive here.

And everything had memories.

Ethan led Lyra to a round hall with an open sky above, where a stone basin stood in the middle. A group of elders waited around it. Their presence felt heavy on Lyra's chest, like deep pressure underwater.

One of the elders, an older woman with silver braids and sharp eyes, stepped forward. "You bring us the Tideward's daughter?"

Ethan bowed respectfully. "Yes, Elder Nyra. She has awakened."

Nyra studied Lyra closely for a long moment before suddenly touching her forehead.

Images burst into Lyra's mind.

Her mother stood before a gate made of bone and light.

A sea of darkness pushed against it.

Whispers filled the air, countless voices, pleading, angry, and hungry.

Her mother screamed, "Not yet! She's not ready!"

Then there was nothing but silence.

Lyra gasped and stumbled back in shock.

Nyra's expression turned serious. "The sea remembers too much."

Lyra steadied herself and asked, "What was that?"

"A glimpse of a memory," Nyra explained. "Your mother hid part of her memories in the tides. Only you can reach them now."

"Why me?" Lyra inquired.

"Because you are her daughter. And because the gate is getting weaker."

Lyra's breath caught in her throat. "So the dreams... the water rising... the gate..."

"All real," Ethan confirmed. "And it's happening again."

Elder Nyra turned to the others. "Alert the council. We need to get ready."

As the others began to move, Ethan took Lyra to a small house that was out of sight of the sea. It was simple, made of stone with a curved shell roof and a bed of moss and woven netting.

"This was your mother's home," he said softly. "She lived here when she first arrived on the island."

Lyra traced her fingers along the wall, feeling it pulse gently under her touch.

"She was here," she murmured.

"She loved this place," Ethan replied, "but she loved and cared about you even more. That's why she gave up everything."

Lyra slowly sat down, her heart heavy. "She didn't die in a storm, did she?"

Ethan shook his head. "She died the first time she closed the gate; she was all alone."

Silence fell between them for a moment.

Finally, Lyra said, "Teach me. I want to know everything. If this power is mine... if danger is coming... I need to be prepared and face it."

Ethan's face changed, revealing a mix of pride, sadness, and fear.

"Then we'll start at dawn," he said.

And outside, the sea quietly whispered her name once again.

"Lyra....."