Far beyond the coral reefs and open seas, in the remote waters of the Drowned Archipelago, lived a mermaid named Calla. She was considered one of her kind as the Tidecaller, though she had never used her extraordinary gift: where the others controlled the currents of the sea with swinging motions of their tails or, entrancing the fish with gentle melodies, could coax schools of them together, Calla had only ever managed to be heard by the tides themselves.
But Calla's gift hadn't always been a blessing. Her songs were too strong, too powerful for the peaceful lives of the merfolk. Every time she sang, the tides bucked and crashed on shores and dragged ships from course. The surface dwellers called her a curse, thinking that her voice held in its power the cause of great storms and floods. The merfolk turned away from her, scared of whatever call it was that was somehow causing destruction they couldn't see.
Alone and broken-hearted, Calla fled to the desolate archipelago of the drowned, where the sea's depths were deadly and no ships ever ventured. There, standing in the midst of the remains of an ancient, sunken city, she found solace in the silence. She vowed that she'd never sing again.
Years passed. Calla kept her promise, a quiet echo in the endless sea. One fateful day, the archipelago gathered ominous dark clouds and raging winds to foreshadow its maelstrom. Stormy waves churned and rose and fell, an unordinary howl of storm. It was not any storm she had ever seen.
Suddenly, a ship rode the horizon, tossed about like a toy in the rabid waves. Its sails were torn raggedly apart, and its crew clung to their post, desperate not to let it founder. Calla's heart went out at the sight, for she knew that the ship was headed straight into the jagged rocks that lined the shore of the Drowned Archipelago. If it crashed, the crew would be lost to the depths.
After all her fear of that power, she could not stand there and do nothing while the ship was destroyed. She made her way to the surface as the storm crashed around her- its tornado force winds hit her face and the waves crashing all around her. For a moment, she hesitated, thinking of her weak voice, but then remembered the strength it did hold. This time, it would not be a curse.
With a deep breath, Calla started singing.
Her voice cut through the storm, light, clear, haunting, rising and falling with the rhythm of the sea. The waves, now wild and uncontrollable, started to subdue to her call. Slowly, the wind died down as her song filled the air. The boat, helpless before the storm, was gently guided into safe waters away from the rocks by the steadying tides.
The crew, though terrified, came to realize they had been saved. They looked at the water as they glimpsed Calla's shimmering tail under the surface, and for the first time, they did not see a curse but a savior.
And as the storm rolled in and subsided, Calla's song came to an end. Exhausted, she watched as the ship set sail safely into the distance, leaving the archipelago behind. For the first time in years, she felt a calm within her. Her voice had not spelled destruction—it had saved lives.
The news of the song of the Tidecaller spread fast among merfolk as well as among the inhabitants of the above surface. No more was Calla a bearer of storms; she became a legend-a guardian for the sea, a protector, whose voice is healing for the ocean as well as for those who cross its waters.
And yet, though she still lived in the Drowned Archipelago, Calla no longer dreaded her gift. She sang freely once again, her voice carrying out on to the waves, calming the wildest of seas and guiding lost sailors home. She had finally found acceptance within the ocean, and with it, she learned to accept the real power she possessed-the power to smooth out the tides.
