Alexander stared at his reflection in the school pool’s surface, trying to ignore the tremor in his hands. First day of high school swim practice. New team. New coach. New chances to mess up. The chemical smell of chlorine filled his lungs with each deep breath, simultaneously comforting and terrifying.
“Alright, freshmen!” Coach Martinez’s voice echoed across the natatorium. “Show me what you’ve got. Four hundred meter warm-up!”
Alexander adjusted his goggles one last time, a habit he couldn’t shake even after quitting competitive swimming last year. As he dove in, the familiar embrace of the water welcomed him, but the old fear lurked beneath the surface. He forced it down, focusing on the rhythm of his strokes. Just get through practice. That’s all you have to do.
The afternoon sun streamed through the high windows, casting shifting patterns on the pool floor. Alexander caught glimpses of them between breaths, remembering a time when swimming felt like flying, before that disastrous junior nationals meet—
Don’t think about it.
He pushed himself harder, letting the burn in his muscles drown out the memories. By the time practice ended, the sky outside had shifted to deep purple, and most of the team had already cleared out. Alexander lingered in the pool, floating on his back, watching the last rays of sunlight paint the ceiling in twilight colors.
“Hey, new kid!” Coach Martinez called from the office. “Lock up when you’re done. Don’t stay too late!”
“Yes, coach!” Alexander waited until he heard the office door close before letting out a long breath. Finally, alone with the water. This was the only time it felt safe anymore.
A ripple disturbed the pool’s surface—not one of his making. Alexander righted himself, treading water as he scanned the pool. Another ripple, accompanied by what sounded like… humming? The melody was unlike anything he’d ever heard, both ancient and otherworldly.
“Hello?” His voice bounced off the walls. The humming stopped.
Something glowed beneath the surface, a soft blue light that reminded him of bioluminescent algae. But that was impossible in a chlorinated pool. As he watched, the light took shape: a vaguely humanoid form about the size of his hand, with translucent fins and eyes that shimmered like opals.
Alexander blinked hard, but the creature remained. It—she?—looked injured, one of her fins torn and trailing wisps of silvery light like underwater smoke.
“You’re hurt,” he said without thinking, then felt ridiculous. He was talking to a hallucination, clearly brought on by too much chlorine and first-day stress.
But the creature responded, her voice like water flowing over stones: “The breach grows wider. The darkness comes. We need the Keepers.”
A chill ran down Alexander’s spine despite the heated pool. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”
“You will.” The sprite drifted closer. “The waters remember you, Alexander. They have always known you would return.”
“Return? I’ve never—” But even as he spoke, images flashed through his mind: vast underwater cities glowing with the same ethereal light as the sprite, gardens of luminous coral, and something dark spreading through it all like ink through water.
The sprite’s form began to fade. “Find the others. The girl who stops time. The one who sees beyond. The gate weakens—” Her voice grew fainter. “We cannot hold them back much longer.”
“Wait!” Alexander reached out, but his hand passed through empty water. The sprite had vanished, leaving only a lingering trace of that strange melody in the air.
For a long moment, Alexander floated in the silent pool, his mind racing. Girl who stops time? Others? It sounded crazy, and yet… he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been waiting for this moment without knowing it.
As he pulled himself out of the pool, he noticed something on the tile floor: a small puddle of water that seemed to move against gravity, forming and reforming into symbols he almost recognized. When he blinked, it was gone, leaving only normal water drops.
In the locker room, Alexander’s hands shook as he changed, but not from fear this time. His phone showed three missed calls from his mom and a text asking if he’d lost track of time again. He started to reply, then paused, watching drops of water roll off his arm and gather on his phone screen.
For a split second, they arranged themselves into the same symbols he’d seen on the pool deck before returning to random droplets.
That night, Alexander dreamed of underwater cities and distant melodies. He saw shadows spreading through crystal corridors and heard the sprite’s warning echoing in his mind: The darkness comes. We need the Keepers.
When he woke, his sheets were inexplicably damp, and in the glass of water by his bed, tiny waves lapped against the sides without any wind to move them.
One thing was certain: competitive swimming wasn’t going to be his biggest challenge at this school.