Hlia's Secret

I've always placed faith in our Elders, Bōlshé. What would they gain from clogging our gills with this, if it were rubbish? There's more to this story. I'm sure of it.

— Iàyo to her friend, Bōlshé

Hliǎ's Secret is a well-known story amongst the Merfolk, dating back several hundreds of years. It tells of the dastardly mer Hliǎ, and the lengths to which his community has gone to discover what he has kept hidden from them.

Legend

No one is certain how Hliǎ's grudge against those around him began. An immense public embarrassment, perhaps, or the rejection of his application to become an Elder in spite of a perceived wealth of experience. Whatever sparked his ire, he turned it back on his people, causing many a disaster. The most consequential of these was his destruction of a meeting hall, causing the death of Elder Èalki in the process. For this, he was hunted throughout the deep sea, and when he was cornered and refused to surrender, he was killed.
However, the hunters had cause to believe that Hliǎ was hiding something, and had his ghost brought before the remaining Elders for questioning. Though he did not disclose his secret plans, and would not confess to his role in any of the crimes he had committed, this was not the end of the line. For the merfolk, in addition to being able to summon ghosts, could place those souls into a willing and powerful vessel.
A merfolk named Abì'da volunteered herself for the task. In spite of all her training, when she received Hliǎ's soul she promptly fell unconscious and could not be roused. When she did awaken a few hours later, it was screaming in agony, through which she was only able to utter a few words.

A sunken grotto, a twisted lamp, a cold sun. Fire... Fire.

When her screaming fit did not stop, Hliǎ's soul was forcibly removed from her body, and she was taken away to recover. Unwilling to find another vessel for the troublesome mer, the elders instead banished him from their waters, and no definitive sightings of him have occurred since.
Though he could do no harm, the matter of what Abì'da had said remained. With little to go on, many expeditionary forces trawled the seafloor for the grotto and lamp, and each rising of the moon sparked fear that it was the cold sun she spoke of. To date, his secrets remain undiscovered.

Historical Basis

Whether Hliǎ existed or not is a complicated topic, with the answering depending on who you ask. All Elders will insist on the story's truth and the very real threat he poses, despite the many hundreds of years since his supposed plan was put in place. The lack of any sunken grotto or twisted lamp fails to inspire confidence amongst many merfolk, who have begun to see the tale as nonsense designed to give them "something to do" during times of peace.
However, Abì'da is a well-known figure in mer history, being a very prominent Elder who led her people through a "world-rending storm" early in her tenure. Though her spirit has long since departed, that she was real is something no one doubts. Since the story had begun to circulate during her lifetime, and certainly while she was still present as a ghost, it seems strange that it was never contradicted by the woman herself.

Date of Setting

~53 Renewal

Related Species

• Merfolk

Soul Magic

The ability to manipulate souls is a rare and complicated art. Strictly speaking a form of Necromancy, it is illegal in many parts of Abravost, and has found a somewhat-begrudging acceptance in Thurásin.
The merfolk who live off the south-eastern coast of the latter are by far the experts in the craft, having long-held traditions of contacting deceased ancestors and utilising their knowledge and power. Individuals will dedicate themselves to the craft from youth, and many of the most skilled will become doctors or Elders in their communities.
Despite this power over souls, they are not capable of delaying the inevitable. After a time, a spirit must return to the embrace of The Mother, head of the Divinities, so that they may be reborn. Their ghostly form will fade from view, and can never be restored.

Smoke by Free-Photos

At this point, any number of events could have been his plan. That volcanic eruption a hundred years ago, the storm that blotted out the sky for months on end, that whole 'two worlds slamming together' thing, even! Why not attribute all natural disasters to him at this rate, and be done with the tiring busywork?

— Ō'ihló, rambling to a friend