Page 89 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

“I did. Not sure how much it helped. I would like to return to Drekaris now that he's returned.”

During Orion’s absence, Nyxalene and I grew closer. I knew he would be gone for a few days, but when she informed me that he still hadn’t returned, I immediately requested to return to the palace. We talked often and discussed my options in case he didn’t come back.

Surprisingly enough, our conversations revolved more around her life—what it was like growing up around Orion. He was basically a brother, and being raised by his father was different from how she was raised by her parents. She spoke so highly of the late king, also mentioning how much Orion resembles him, but holds a different outlook than his father did. The love she feels for them both is apparent.

She asked about my life and my different upbringings. I mentioned my life before I was adopted, though I don’t remember much, as I was so young. It was interesting having another female companion to discuss these things with. Eventually, our conversation turned to past lovers I had known, which somehow led back to the present situation—the bond.

At that point, I couldn’t tell if Nyxalene was pushing the idea onto me out of curiosity or if she genuinely wanted to see Orion happy. Later, I decided it was probably both.

“Ready to go?” Her voice cuts into my thoughts. “I need to return to the palace before the night is completely over.”

I simply nod, and we depart.

It takes several minutes to descend to the depths of the arena. Last night was another restless night. My anxiety, and possibly fear, got the best of me. I sat on the floor, coiled tightly in the middle of my tail, polishing my daggers with my seaweed blanket and sharpening them against the scales on my tail.

The descent looks like everything else in Drekaris—dark, mysterious, and old. We break through a narrow passage into a vast space that holds a massive structure. Its walls are made of obsidian and stretch several hundred feet high, while thick rings of metal wrap around the base and crown of the structure. Rising above is a fence-like dome that glints faintly whenever the minerals hanging from the trench ceiling catch the light. Outside the dome lies a stadium-like arena, with tiered seating for anyone who dares to attend and watch the event unfold.

At the head of the seating, a throne overlooks the arena. It appears uncomplicated at first glance, but nothing about it actually is. It’s made out of the same obsidian as the arena, and where the top comes to a point, lie several crystals embedded into the chair. It sits higher than everything else, offering a commanding view of the battleground below. Beside it rests another, smaller chair. I’m not sure who it’s meant for. I’d assume Nyxalene, but she doesn’t seem like the sitting type.

My team and I are escorted by Zevrin through the massive vault door that seals us inside the arena. It closes behind us with a deep, echoing thud, sending ripples through the water and disturbing the resting sand beneath our tails.

“This here is the Arena of the Broken Shell,” Zevrin’s voice echoes through the chamber, the sound bouncing off the obsidian walls. “Tonight, this will be where you fight. We won't announce the creature you're up against until right before the battle commences. You may rest before then, or, as many before you have done, you may use this time to acquaint yourselves with the space provided. As a team, you will be expected to work together in this fight.

“As always, any foul play against a teammate will result in immediate disqualification and removal from the arena. All that will do is hurt yourself and your peers. So please, fight fairly. We all have a common goal here in Virellan—to serve and protect our kingdom and the king.”

The echo of his words fades, leaving the arena in a deafening void. The only sound that follows is the groan of the gate opening again as Zevrin swims out, sealing it behind him.

It’s early in the morning still, so Defymin, Aniah, Keil, and I do what we do best—we train. The space we’ve been given is a massive improvement compared to the training caverns. Not just in width but in depth. While the others test their combat skills below, I rise a few hundred feet above them and focus on commanding the ocean.

During Orion’s absence, I had nothing but time to train, to practice, to push myself under Nyxalene’s guidance. Together, we even discovered something new—another skill I’m still learning to control. It hasn’t reached the same precision I have with shaping the currents, but I can feel it growing.

I practice now, closing the door to my bedroom in my mind. I lock it and open a door to where my new skill rests. Releasing just enough magic to pool between my hands, I sweep them in front of me, left to right, scanning the water before me.

A while back, after the bond started to awaken between Orion and me, I realized I could feel his emotions in the ripples between us. Eventually, those feelings expanded. I started sensing the emotions of others, too, but only if their mental barriers were low enough. Nyxalene’s never were, but when I respectfully asked if she’d lower them so I could practice, she agreed.

At first, neither of us knew what to expect. But what happened wasn’t something I could’ve prepared for. My heart responded to her emotions, but along with them came flashes of images. Vivid, fleeting visions that swept through my mind like waves across glass.

The first time it happened, I froze. I wasn’t just feeling her emotions anymore. I was seeing them.

Nyxalene was thinking about her past. About the family she’d lost. I felt her grief and her hatred for the surface world, but what I saw is what clings to me even now, weeks later.

I never did tell her what I saw. But now that I’ve practiced on other finlings and a few warriors around the palace, I can admit my confidence is flourishing. I’m no longer so easily shaken—except for that God-forsaken sea mate bond. Not the bond itself, but him.

He makes me nervous. My heart leans toward him more every day without fail. Nyra reminds me of that every chance she gets. The bonded creature follows me everywhere I go and never misses a beat when Orion crosses my mind, which is apparently always.

She and I have grown closer, too. We’ve had long talks about our bond and what the future might look like. My situation has never happened before, and several had asked if I plan to return to the surface in Orion’s absence. I gave them the only answer I could give . . . I don’t know. That was, indeed, the simplest answer. But now, with his return, I don't plan on going anywhere.

I pull my mind back to the task before me. My hands move in front of me, guiding the swirls of magic that appear in my mind.

My goal: to see if the ocean holds any lingering emotions of the creature we’ll be facing tonight. I had hoped they might've brought it here early, but nothing stirs. Only the faint traces of plankton and other small creatures drifting through the arena, curious but unaware of what’s coming.

I practice my water-bending skills more using Defymin and my team members as targets, sending the water forward with enough force to shift them around lightly, testing how precisely I can control the strength of each wave. Then we take turns dueling, targeting each other’s weaknesses, if any arise.

They don’t.

I chose them as my team for a reason. Through every duel, every round of exhaustion, we’ve stuck by each other. And even though they question if the favoritism the king seems to show me is true, they still respect me for who I am. Aniah has even said she finds it admirable that I’m doing the Currents of Mastery with actual effort—proud, even, that I’m not some royal spy ensuring everyone’s training is up to par under the pretense of that lurking evil.

Which, apparently, everyone knows about now—despite Orion’s attempts to keep the details buried until we learn more.