18

Kamara and I were deep in the ocean, not far from our island. The transparent blue of the surrounding waters shimmered with unusual shades of emerald and turquoise, and the sun's rays penetrating the thickness of the water created a magical pattern of light and shadow on the seabed. A gentle current flowed around us, as if inviting us deeper, to secrets yet to be discovered.

"I can't believe you finally talked me into this stupidity," Kamara muttered discontentedly, trying unsuccessfully to hide her slight excitement.

I smiled and shrugged, continuing to admire the strange swirls that enveloped her body. Her magic allowed us to hear each other easily even underwater, as if we were standing side by side on the shore.

"I can't get used to your tricks," I admitted, unable to take my eyes off the magical field around her. "I admire how you manage to control the very elements themselves."

The mention of her abilities brought back memories of past conversations. 

*****

Memories

This happened a few days after our first meeting. We were sitting on the shore, where the midday sun was reflecting off the calm surface of the sea.

"Please tell me what powers you possess," I asked, unable to take my eyes off the beautiful sea princess. "You know about my abilities, but I know almost nothing about yours.

Kamara raised her eyebrow thoughtfully, as if weighing whether to reveal her secrets. But soon a slight smile touched her lips:

"All right. I think I can share. You told me about your nature and abilities, so it's only fair that I do the same.

She raised her palm slightly, and at that moment, tiny drops of water began to appear around her fingers, as if born directly from the air. They grew, shimmering delicately, and then merged into a small sphere the size of an apple. The sphere hovered above her palm, spinning and glimmering like a living creature.

"I got my physical strength from my father," Kamara continued softly, looking at the water sphere. "You already know that he is the son of a human man and a princess of Atlantis. This union made him a being that unites the world of land and the world of the ocean. He is stronger and faster than any human and even most Atlanteans. I have inherited many of his abilities.

She waved her hand, and the water sphere obediently rose higher, continuing to spin smoothly in the air.

"My physiology is not like that of ordinary people. I can breathe both underwater and on the surface, easily withstand the pressure of the great depths, and my muscles are strong enough to crush rocks with my hands. In the water, I move faster than almost all sea creatures. Currents, waves — none of these things have power over me. 

I listened to her without interrupting, trying not to miss a single word. It was clear that for her this was not just a question of strength — it was part of her life, her world.

"But the most important thing for me is magic," Kamara added, clenching her fist tightly. The water ball instantly disintegrated into a smoky veil that melted into the air. "Unlike my father, I have a special gift. It is rarely passed down in our family, and I am one of the few who possess it. It is water magic.

As if to confirm her words, a thin stream of water burst out of the ghostly cloud, repeating the movement of her hand. She drew patterns, and each smooth touch of the air turned into a complex figure made up of flowing drops.

"I feel water everywhere. From the salty waters of the ocean to the tiny droplets of moisture in the air. I can gather it into any shape, redirect its flow, change its density. For me, it's not just a skill — it's a connection to a living element.

At her command, the water formed an elegant blade, sparkling in the sunlight and shimmering like a precious stone. 

"However, this is only part of my heritage," Kamara continued. "It is much more difficult to touch the deep magic of the ocean. The Atlanteans have always known that water holds memories: past events, vivid emotions, the energy of centuries gone by. I have the power to read these images. To touch the ancient currents is to touch history, to see what happened many centuries ago.

She allowed the magical blade to spread between her fingers and quietly flow down her wrist, then the water evaporated without a trace, as if it had never been there.

"But that's not all," Kamara approached me and lowered her voice. "I have the ability to use magical telepathy connected to the ocean.

The phrase made me sit up straight. 

"Ordinary telepaths are able to read or transmit thoughts," she continued. "My telepathy is different. I hear the 'voice' of the water and those who live in it. I can hear the call of a whale singing in the distant depths, feel the alarm of a dolphin searching for its pod, or the fear of a tiny fish trying to hide from a predator. I can feel any emotion that arises in the ocean.

I saw genuine reverence for the water element flash in her eyes.

"And not just living creatures," she added with a soft smile. "The ocean remembers everything that has happened to it. Every battle, every shipwreck, every moment of joy or sorrow — everything is preserved in the water, although people are unaware of it. I can touch these memories, read them.

Kamara fell silent, and we looked at each other for a few seconds, realising the magnitude of her words.

"It's not just a gift," she said finally, "it's my responsibility. To the ocean, to my people, to those who rely on me as the keeper of underwater memories.

I was silent, still digesting what I had heard. So much new information, so many amazing discoveries — it was turning my world upside down.

"So," Kamara concluded with a slight smile, "now you know why my abilities go beyond mere strength and speed. I can breathe underwater, be faster and stronger, but my true power lies in my mastery of the magic of the ocean.

*****

"And I can't get used to the fact that telepathy doesn't work on you at all," Kamara complained, looking around as if trying to find support in the silent depths. "Because of that, I have to twist and turn so we can talk underwater. But tell me, how on earth do you manage to make sounds and speak down here? There's no magic involved! It's absurd!"

She flapped her hands angrily, as if to emphasise the absurdity of the situation, and the small fish, startled by her sudden movement, immediately scattered in all directions. I smiled slightly as I watched the waves of her dark hair ripple in the water.

"Less talk, more action," I replied innocently, knowing full well that this would only make her even more upset. "You said you could 'communicate' with water and learn about the past. So, is there a sunken ship with treasure nearby?

Kamara snorted quietly, but a curious sparkle appeared in her eyes:

"And who would believe me?" she muttered, beginning to move her hands gracefully through the water. "I use ancient magic of the depths to find out where and when a human ship sank. You understand that this is sacrilege.

However, despite her apparent indignation, she began to perform a complex ritual: thin blue lines woven from water magic stretched out behind her hands, forming an intricate pattern in the darkness of the depths. The threads of light vibrated and flickered like a living glow, growing brighter with each passing moment.

I watched, feeling a sense of awe growing inside me. The sight was mesmerising and exciting. When the pattern was complete, a soft humming sound filled my ears, growing louder and louder.

"Well, did it work?" I asked eagerly, glancing at her.

Kamara sighed heavily, as if this magical act had required a great deal of concentration and strength.

"Yes, it worked," she said, a sly smile playing on her face. "What's more, I didn't just find out where the ship is," I asked the ocean to take us there.

"You asked... what?" Before I could finish, the water swirled around me with tremendous force, forming a tunnel-like structure.

As if caught up in an invisible storm, we both flew forward. I was pulled sharply downward; I felt my body being enveloped in coolness and changing direction, as if we were being carried by some kind of underwater hurricane. Everything around me was mixed up, and I experienced something similar to what happens on the most extreme roller coasters. For a brief moment, I even realised that Kamara's laughter was coming from somewhere far away: she was clearly enjoying herself.

Suddenly, we were literally "spit out" — I couldn't find another word for it. The current disappeared, as if dissolved in the surrounding mass of water, and by inertia we both continued to move forward for several hundred metres. Eventually, we slowed down smoothly, feeling the current soften and become familiar and even.

"Looks like we're here," said Kamara, her voice sounding satisfied and slightly excited.

Looking around, I noticed that the bright bluish glow of her magic was slowly fading, but still shimmered in the water in strange patterns. And almost immediately, a sight appeared before me that took my breath away: deep below, the skeleton of an ancient ship lay at rest. It lay on the sandy bottom, like abandoned evidence of a bygone era. Part of the hull had survived and still retained its shape, although most of the ship had been destroyed by the relentless influence of the sea.

I cautiously approached the colossal wreckage, trying not to disturb the small inhabitants of the deep sea who had made their home here. The old wood was covered with numerous shell growths and colonies of algae, like natural decorations. Somewhere off to the side, between the collapsed masts, curious schools of fish swam, and in the shadowy hold, an octopus glided slowly, lazily moving its tentacles.

"That's... a Spanish galleon," Kamara said suddenly, her voice tinged with excitement and the power of magic. Her eyes seemed to glow from within. "It sailed from the New World to Manila. If the energy flow is to be believed, it sank more than four hundred years ago."

"Four hundred years?" I asked, mentally anticipating the answer. "And you figured all that out just like that?"

"The ocean remembers everything," Kamara smiled slightly, her smile full of secret knowledge. "I just ask the right questions.

She reached out toward the galleon, and sparkling threads of magic flowed around her wrist again. They gently wrapped around the ancient hull of the ship, forming a thin, almost ghostly net. It seemed as if the depths were speaking in unison with her movements. For a moment, I even felt a quiet ringing through the water, like the distant echo of bells.

"This ship was called the San Jose," whispered Kamara, covering her eyes. "It carried gold, spices and jewels. But most importantly..."

Her eyes flashed for a moment, and reality seemed to change around us. I saw a scene from the past emerge through the transparent waves: a fierce storm, raging waves, the crew clinging desperately to the rigging, their cries of fear echoing through the air. Huge waves crashed into the ship, breaking masts and washing people overboard. Water flooded the decks, and the galleon sank with a desperate creak until it finally disappeared beneath the foaming surface.

I blinked, and the vision faded like a mirage. My heart was pounding wildly — even though it was just a memory, it felt as if I myself had experienced the hopelessness of that disaster for a moment.

"Wow..." was all I could say when I caught my breath.

Kamara tiredly lowered her hand, and the flickering threads faded, leaving us in the usual semi-darkness of the ocean floor.

"Not the easiest death," she said quietly, her face reflecting sympathy for the storm's long-ago victims.

I looked back at the ship. Now I saw the rickety wreck not as a pile of old planks and rusty iron, but as a memorial to the dead, a symbol of tragedy forever etched on the ocean floor.

However, the interior of the ship still held treasures. We sailed closer, cautiously peering into the cracks in the hull. Through the silt-covered floorboards, a faint glimmer shone, like the reflection of something metallic. Sure enough, several large chests soon appeared before us, half buried in sand and debris. One of them was ajar, and through the crack I noticed a golden light, rare in these parts.

"Gold.

I looked at Kamara, feeling a rush of excitement, as if we had stumbled upon some forgotten treasure from legends:

"Looks like we've found treasure," I said, unable to hide my smile. "How are we going to divide it?"

The girl raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips expressively, a reproach flashing in her eyes:

"Ugh, you're such a guy," she snorted, spreading her arms. "Don't you care that this is basically the grave of dozens of people? And you're already thinking about how to 'loot' it?"

I shrugged, trying not to look too cynical:

"Well, they certainly won't need these treasures anymore. If you don't want them, I can take everything for myself."

At my words, Kamara just rolled her eyes:

"You humans are all the same. Greedy and unprincipled. Gold has no special value to the Atlanteans — it's just metal. It's you landlubbers who have turned it into a cult.

"Okay, what about the precious stones?" I asked, peering into another chest and prying open the lid. Inside were a scattering of gems, including sparkling sapphires, emeralds and rubies. The sight was impressive: dozens of sparkling stones shimmered and glistened.

The girl's eyes immediately lit up, and she moved closer to me, almost pressing her shoulder against mine. Her slender hand dived inside, grabbing a handful of stones. Several of them slipped out of her fingers and spun in the water like pearlescent bubbles.

"All right," Kamara finally admitted, softening, "I like the stones. Especially the sapphires and emeralds. They have their own energy, more alive and interesting than the dull metal of gold.

"And how proud you were a minute ago," I remarked sarcastically, not missing a chance to tease her. "But since that's the case, let's take all this to our island and sort out who gets what there."

The girl frowned, looking at the piles of riches before us:

"I don't think it will be that easy. See how much there is? We can't carry it all away in one go.

I smiled and gave her a mocking look:

"You seem to have the memory of a goldfish. I told you about my powers.

"You don't mean..." Kamara began, but stopped short when she saw that the hold had suddenly emptied. Where chests had been piled high just a moment ago, now only the dilapidated bottom of the ship remained. "Where did everything go?!"

I looked away innocently:

"I already moved it to our island while we were talking. Why wait when you can do everything at once?

For a few seconds, Kamara stared at me wide-eyed, as if trying to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Then she frowned, realising that this time I had outsmarted her.

"You really are an unfathomable mystery," she sighed, shaking her head. "Even for me."

"Okay," I grinned, "I don't know about you, but I can't wait to see what we've got." 

Before she could answer, I instantly closed the distance between us, picked her up, and rushed towards the surface. Kamara only had time to gasp slightly as we were transported in an instant to the familiar atmosphere of daylight. A split second later, I was standing on the beach of our island, gently lowering her onto the soft, warm sand.

"Wow..." she said, breathlessly, looking around. "That was... incredibly cool.

Her face expressed mixed feelings, ranging from sincere admiration to slight embarrassment. 

"I'm glad you liked it," I replied with a hint of smugness. "Well, I'd better go and see what we've collected.

Next to us stood a pile of trunks and boxes, still damp from their long stay in the sea. Some looked dilapidated and rotten, others were locked with half-broken locks. A few boxes had burst open, spilling gold and precious stones that sparkled fantastically in the sun. I began sorting through them, carefully picking coins and sparkling gems from under the rotten boards. Kamara, catching her breath, also began rummaging through one of the chests, still looking a little stunned by what had happened.

We spent the rest of the day immersed in this unexpected adventure, rummaging through chests and discussing the finds that had come into our hands.

The sun was setting, painting the sky in warm shades of pink and orange. Kamara, noticing how quickly the evening colours were deepening, sighed sadly and pointed to the setting sun:

"The sun is setting..." she said quietly. "Today is the last day we can be together. Tomorrow you're flying back home, and it's time for me to go home too. I've already stayed here much longer than I was supposed to. I'm afraid they'll start looking for me soon."

I turned to her, noticing the sad notes in her voice:

"Why are you upset? Am I just some ill-mannered, uncouth person? I didn't expect you to be sad to see me go.

Kamara raised her eyebrows and pretended to be indignant:

"Well, you're right about being uncouth. I've never met anyone as insolent as you. I don't understand how you're still alive.

However, the enthusiasm she radiated gave her words a special mischievousness, and her eyes sparkled with merriment.

"But I'll miss you," I admitted, letting my voice sound soft and warm. "I'm very glad we met and spent this time together.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, as if she was embarrassed by her own candour:

"I'll miss you too, Bruce. You can be unbearable at times, but sometimes you're very nice. And at certain moments... I want to strangle you," she confessed with a sly smile.

I laughed, knowing full well that these words concealed genuine affection. And yet, parting hung over us like a shadow. I sighed and blurted out an idea that had come to me spontaneously:

"Listen, since that's the case, let's do this. In exactly one year, we'll meet here, on this very beach. If something prevents us from doing so, we'll postpone the meeting for another year. And so on, until we finally manage to meet. Do you agree?"

She thought for a few moments, as if weighing all the possible consequences of such a promise, and then nodded decisively:

"I agree. In exactly one year, I will be waiting for you here.With these words, Kamara came close to me. She took a delicate pearl bracelet from her wrist and carefully put it on my arm:

"Let this be my gift to you," she said softly, and, standing on tiptoe, she gently touched my cheek with her lips.

I touched the place where she had kissed me in surprise, feeling a pleasant warmth. Kamara, noticing my reaction, smiled cheerfully.

"I have nothing to give you in return... except my swimming trunks," I joked, pretending to pull them down.

"Oh, you fool, Bruce," Kamara snorted, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter. "I don't need your swimming trunks. But you have a whole year ahead of you to come up with a more substantial gift for me."

Smiling, she picked up the medium-sized chest with her treasures and headed for the ocean. As she entered the water, she turned around one last time and looked at me through the gentle ripples:

"See you soon, Bruce!

"See you, Camara... Princess of Atlantis," I replied and watched her until she disappeared under the water.

I stood on the shore for a while, unable to tear myself away from the pensive contemplation of the ocean's surface. Only when the light coolness of the evening breeze touched my shoulders did I shake myself and look at the piles of chests that were now my property. Smiling to myself, I quickly assessed the task ahead: I had to find a way to get all this to our farm.

"All right, Bruce, time to get to work," I muttered, lifting the heavy box with ease.

With my extraordinary speed, I set about transporting everything we had found at the bottom of the ocean. I flitted back and forth, carrying piles of gold, chests of gems and ancient coins to a safe place.

*****

Finally, we returned home. My mother crossed the threshold, stretched from head to toe, and sighed with relief:

"It's so good to be home! I never thought that a holiday could be so tiring," she said with a smile, carefully placing her suitcase against the wall.

My father, having barely carried in his luggage, immediately came up behind her and hugged her:

"Don't mention it, dear. Home is always better.

Following them, I put my suitcase in the hallway and, leaning forward slightly, said:

"Well, I won't disturb your peaceful embrace. I'll go to my room and unpack. To be honest, I'm exhausted and would love to lie down.

"Go on, go on, dear," my mother smiled, turning to me. "I'll call you for dinner. Rest as long as you like."

I went upstairs to my room, feeling pleasantly exhausted after the journey and the events of the last few days. I had barely unpacked some of my luggage when I heard a loud shout from my father's study downstairs:

"Bruce! Come here immediately!"

Instantly tensing, I activated my abilities and looked through the floor. Downstairs, in the study, my father was looking in surprise at the sudden mess: in the middle of the room were piles of treasure chests that I had managed to hide the day before.

"Oops..." I whispered and hurried downstairs, already thinking of how to explain this "fortune" to my parents.

When I entered the study, I saw my mother and father looking in amazement at the piles of gold and precious stones filling the chests to the brim. My father turned to me, his face reflecting a whole range of emotions, from mild shock to restrained curiosity:

"Where did you get this, Bruce?

I spread my arms, then casually waved towards the property that Kamara and I had "borrowed" from the sunken galleon:

"I found the treasure during my travels. I decided it would be a shame to let it go to waste. So... it's all mine. Well, more accurately, it's ours now." I nodded towards the chests. "You can sell it all, can't you? Half the profits are yours."

My father looked at the jewels, glanced at me and grinned:

"Of course I can. As for the money... I think a father and son will always find a way to work things out.

He said this with a slight smile, and my mother immediately smiled back at him. I realised that, despite the obvious surprise, my father was taking the situation in his stride — as he did with many other oddities that occurred from time to time in our family.

***

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