Page 45 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

My tail aches, my chest is heaving, and even though we’re submerged in the deepest, darkest parts of the ocean, I swear I’m sweating through every pore.

Nyxalene and Orion have had me repeating the same strength exercises—movements specifically designed to help me build control, balance, and precision. The same motions—curl, whip, stabilize. My body’s protesting, but I push through it.

I have to.

Lord Zevrin arrived shortly after I began the exercises. All three of them have been talking since. Their voices are too low for me to make out. I continue the motions. I catch glimmers of their gestures in the marilume's glow. The quick flicks of Orion’s hands, the tilt of Nyxalene’s head, and Lord Zevrin’s sharp nods.

Orion glances at me every so often. Once, he raised an eyebrow, as if he was asking something. Or maybe judging the angle of my spine, the tension held in my form. I wish I knew which. His expression remains impassive.

Just when I think my body may give up on me, all three of them nod at one another, as if they’ve finally come to an agreement. Without a word, they swim toward me with Orion at the center.

“Sarah, you may rest for a moment,” he says, his voice steady. “After a thorough discussion with the leaders of the Neravyn Guard, we have decided on the course of action for your training.”

Lord Zevrin moves forward, his posture sharp and practiced. "In Virellan, becoming a warrior is not achieved through strength alone. It requires discipline, control, and the ability to withstand what the ocean demands of us. For this reason, our warriors undergo three currents for training—each designed to test a different aspect of what it means to protect this kingdom. The currents were established by King Thaldrin after the Great Sea War. We witnessed what happens when a kingdom is left vulnerable. Those warrior possessed strength, but strength alone was not enough. A protector must have control over themselves before they can be trusted to defend others." His gaze sweeps over to Orion, momentarily, before continuing. "Though King Thaldrin dedicated his reign to peace, he understood that peace cannot exist without those willing to preserve it. The Currents of Mastery were created to ensure that if Virellan ever had to face danger, we would be more prepared than the kingdom that came before ours was forged. You will learn what you need to know when the time comes. Some trials are meant to be prepared for. Others are meant to be faced."

He sounds like a commander. Like someone who’s drilled this speech into countless recruits before me.

"The first current is known as Breath of the Deep. It is the foundation upon which all others are built. Before a warrior can defend Virellan, they must first learn to exist within the ocean that surrounds us. Do not mistake the first current for simplicity. It is the stage where weakness is revealed before a warrior is permitted to advance. Within this current, you will master breath, adapt to the pressure of the deep, sharpen your awareness of the waters around you, and learn the basic uses of your weapon once earned. Control over yourself is the first step toward protecting others."

Breath control? Ocean pressure? Seriously?

I barely resist the urge to laugh. I’ve already got breath control down, thanks to Orion trying to drown me before our first swim together. And as for ocean pressure? Let’s just say being yanked through the depths at speeds fast enough to make my brain rattle was a very effective crash course.

As if on cue, Orion’s head snaps away from Lord Zevrin mid-sentence and turns toward me. His brows lift the slightest bit, his eyes sharpening as if he's caught off guard, but the reaction disappears before I can study it fully.

"She already has breath control,” Orion says casually, cutting into Lord Zevrin’s speech. “I may have tried to drown her once we got to the ocean. She survived, obviously.”

Lord Zevrin’s mouth opens slightly, but Orion keeps going.

“And ocean pressure? I dragged her through four pressure zones at top speed. She's already more aware of her body than half of the new recruits I've seen.” He glances back toward me and winks.

I freeze. Wait . . . I didn't think any of that out loud, did I?

Lord Zevrin clears his throat. “That's perfect. That should significantly reduce the time she needs to spend in this Current. We can proceed to basic weapon drills and assess her form as she progresses.”

I’m still watching Orion. He’s already looking away again, back to business, as if that little moment never happened.

There’s no time to overthink it as Nyxalene swims forward, her voice clear and firm.

“Before you can wield a weapon, you will need to master the movement behind wielding one,” she says. “Your body must know the form before it knows the blade. Otherwise, your strength means nothing.”

She shows me the stances necessary for wielding a weapon—each one engaging muscles I either forgot existed or never knew were there to begin with. My tail strains to keep me balanced, my arms ache with unfamiliar tension, and I’m barely ten minutes in before I realize Orion and Lord Zevrin have already slipped out the door.

I didn't notice them leave until now, when agony reaches every point in my body.

Nyxalene doesn’t say much, watching and correcting, as she has me repeat each movement until my body falls into a rhythm on its own.

Swipe left and down across my body.

Right and down.

A horizontal strike across the front of my face.

Then a forward stabbing motion straight ahead, as if aiming for the center of an opponent’s chest.

Then switch hands and do it again. Over. And over.

“Being efficient in wielding a weapon with both hands is a necessary tool,” she says without glancing at me, her voice steady and focused. “You will not always be whole in battle. If you rely on only one arm, you will die the moment it fails you.”