The Bells Beneath the Waves

There are nights, when the sea hums a tune older than stone and salt, and the wind carries whispers from a world long lost beneath the waves. The old keepers along the Welsh coast, who’ve spent more years with the gulls and the tide than with their own kin — know the sound well. When the lantern flame flickers low and the fog hangs heavy, you can hear it: bells, faint and solemn, tolling from the deep, as if the drowned churches of forgotten kingdoms still call their faithful home. These are the tales of those lost lands, of Cantref Gwaelod and Tyno Helig, where pride, folly, and fate wove their ruin, and where the sea, in her cold patience, keeps their memory alive.