Page 81 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

She sneers and comes again. Faster now, a storm of steel and muscle.

I deflect, twist, and retreat. The edges of her weapon graze me again and again. Each cut stings, but none of them keep me down. My breathing grows more laborious, not from weakness, but from the endless rhythm of her attacks. She’s relentless.

“You think being the king’s little pet will save you?” she spits, circling me. “You don't belong here, human.” Her words cut sharper than her blade.

The word ignites me like a spark on oil. Pet. Human.

My fists clench harder around the hilts of my daggers, my jaw locking as heat flares in my chest. The careful rhythm Orion drilled into me falters, unraveling under the weight of her taunts. My fury surges, and the ocean answers. A violent wave forms from my command, ripping across the chamber with a roar. Carella has no time to react. She’s thrown like driftwood into the back corner, colliding with Zevrin and Defymin. They crash in a tangled heap. Nyxalene, ever watchful, darts aside just before the surge slams into them, her sharp gaze never leaving me.

I don’t even glance at Carella’s wrecked form. She won’t recover quickly, not from that. My pulse still thrums with fury as I lift my hand, flash her the middle finger, and let the weight of my tail guide my turn. With one hard sweep, I cut through the water, gliding out of the chamber.

Aniah follows close on my wake. Behind us, the wreckage of the duel is left for Zevrin and Defymin to untangle.

thirty-two

Orion

The palace is more serene than I remember before Sarah’s arrival. The hush stretches on, charged with friction.

Our hunt for the shadow prowling the ocean hasn't slowed, even with her training consuming most of my time. Search parties, born of my command, sweep across the sea daily, combing trenches and forgotten passageways, yet the adversary refuses to surface. A phantom. A threat that taunts us with absence.

Abandoned villages offer nothing more than stagnant waters; they offer ghosts. The remnants of lives once lived. Empty homes. Scattered belongings. Echoes of laughter long extinguished.

In one such place, a search party I organized found the truth I had feared. The site of my father’s death. The currents have long since carried away the scent of blood, the sand smoothing over hints of death.

"We found this partially buried in the silt, your majesty." The Deepwatch Captain who spearheaded the search holds out a gold pendant, the glint catching my eye.

The crest engraved upon it confirms what my instincts have whispered all along. This was my father’s. When he was alive, he had worn it beside my mother’s as proof of their love. Now, it marks the place where he fell. He died there. And yet, the body remains lost to the currents, a wound I cannot close. His absence gnaws at me, an emptiness I cannot seem to shake.

When duty loosens its grip, when war councils and fruitless leads fade from my mind, my thoughts drift to her. Always her. Sarah—stubborn with brilliant eyes like molten emerald—the one complication I never asked for, and the only tether strong enough to pull me from this endless hunt.

Velmira claims sea mates are not rare, but in all my years, I've only ever heard of it happening once. And from what I've gathered, when the bond speaks, it demands to be heard, which makes Velmira’s words difficult to reconcile. Sarah is stubborn—even with herself.

My body aches to know her fully. My heart longs to shoulder her pain. My mind hungers for her wit, her attention. I cannot fathom a life without her, though only months ago I dismissed trusting a human as folly.

The bond grows stronger with every sea day, and the need to keep her within my sight becomes unbearable. It tears at me from the inside out, knowing I cannot always be there to shield her, no matter the cost.

Upon my return from training Sarah, I sent Nyxalene to Drekaris, as my presence was needed here at the palace. Duty drew me away, and her first duel in Current Two passed without me there. I wanted to, but showing favoritism, or worse, letting the world suspect the truth of our bond, was a risk I couldn't take. Even so, I know it exists. She mirrors my powers, and even before she locked them away, I could sense her thoughts, faint and flickering at the edges of my awareness. I will find my way into that locked section of her mind eventually. After she accepts what we share.

A few hours later, and now Nyx returns with news of Sarah’s duel. She won. That isn't a surprise. But how she won surprises me.

Her ability to command and wield the ocean had shown little progress, so I assumed she would rely on her own fighting maneuvers. However, that's not the story I'm hearing now.

The excitement laced throughout Nyx's voice has me sliding to the edge of my seat. I came to the throne room to receive reports on the search parties. With those mostly completed, I have the time to hear the events through Nyx's eyes. She spares no detail as she recounts the duel.

"It was amazing, Orion. I've never met a Neravyn as disrespectful as her opponent. It took Sarah all of but a few blows before she had enough and showed Carella exactly why she was chosen by Mother Ocean herself."

I knew Sarah’s opponent well. Before her arrival in Virellan, Zevrin had spoken often of Carella, certain she would be our next great Deepwatch Captain. Fierce. Disciplined. A fighter who would fly through the ranks with little challenge.

None of us expected Sarah.

Carella, as formidable as she is, had no defense against the storm that rises when Sarah is provoked. Brute strength cannot prepare one for the destruction born from her fury. I would know. I experienced it first hand. Though, my strength is much different than someone like Carella.

And yet hearing the tale is nothing compared to seeing it unfold. Words cannot capture the raw power, the defiance, the moment the tides themselves bent to her will. I ache with the knowledge that I was not there—that while duty chained me to council tables and reports, she carved her place in the current without me as witness.

“I appreciate the report,” I say, keeping my tone even, though only one name truly matters to me. “What is the status for the rest?”

Nyxalene straightens, her words carrying against the chamber walls. “Results were delivered in the training cavern after Sarah’s duel. Eighteen finlings advanced in Current Two—Sarah now holds the first rank.”