Page 98 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

I shake my head slowly, my throat tightening. Leo wouldn’t tell me to forget something like this. He would tell me to embrace it.

“No—” I say. “I can’t forget something I've become.”

The cave hums faintly, the illusion thinning with each word I speak, as though it knows I’ve recognized the truth. The image of Leo lingers for a moment longer—sad, smiling faintly, and then dissolves into the darkness around me.

I’m left alone again, surrounded by warped silence. Only the steady pulse of the sea fills the void where his voice once was.

Those memories will never leave me. I'll carry them always, holding onto the laughter, the warmth, the moments that shaped who I was. But my role in this kingdom is asserting itself.

I’ve resisted it. Clung to the belief that I was meant to return home, but what if I’m not? Every reason I offer myself for going back feels hollow, more an excuse than an answer.

My thoughts spiral, teetering on the edge of mania, as I imagine ways to have it all, to remain in the sea while keeping my life on the surface. But every scenario conjures only more illusions—images of destruction, failure, and disappointment. It’s as if Mother Ocean is telling me that my only choice is to commit, to choose one world over the other.

The illusions pull me again and again to the surface, to the life I once knew. Yet each time, my heart tugs me back, reminding me of the role I now hold, the life I’ve built beneath the waves, and the responsibilities that anchor me here.

I picture my future, and the surface isn’t what I see. Instead, I see the vast stretch of the ocean, uncharted depths waiting to be explored, friendships still forming, and knowledge yet to be uncovered. Though, through it all, I see myself in this serpent form, no longer bound to the surface but drawn to the pull of the sea.

I may not fully understand it yet, but part of me knows. . . This is where I belong.

thirty-nine

Sarah

Ithought choosing between my home and my love for the sea would’ve been harder.

The cavern echoes every piece of me. My heart, my doubts, and my fears. It mirrors the battles I didn’t even realize I was fighting. But when I make my choice, when I know what I need to do, the echoes still, the visions fade and the suspension that follows feels . . . final. No more memories left to mourn.

My life above the surface will always be a part of me, indelibly woven into who I am. But the ocean has always called to me. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t drawn to her voice, when the waves didn’t feel like home.

My soul belongs to her now. I find peace in her depths, comfort in her endless rhythm. Yet one truth still stings when I think about my place here in Virellan.

To them, I’m an outsider. A curiosity. A wannabe human. I’ve chosen this life beneath the sea, but have they chosen me?

My thoughts twist together, tangled and ruthless, until I can’t tell where one doubt ends and the next begins.

Sliding from my resting place, I give myself some movement to rationalize the storm in my thoughts. I ease forward, floating in front of the wide slab of stone, and catch my reflection in it for a moment. The serpent form staring back feels familiar now, maybe even comforting. But when I gaze closer, the reflection moves before I do. The look it gives me is cruel—amused.

A whisper threads through the water, soft at first, then spreads until it fills every shadowed corner of the cavern.

They’ll never see you as one of them.

The words come from everywhere. From the walls. From the water. From inside my own mind. I blink rapidly, but the words still echo through my skull like thunder in silence.

When I focus again, my reflection . . . changes. The serpentine shimmer of my tail fades from the stone’s surface, the glittering scales dissolving into smooth skin and pale legs. My legs.

For a heartbeat, I forget to breathe. I tilt my head, and so does she, but slower, like she’s mocking me. I flex my fins, but my reflection’s toes curl instead.

No . . . No, that’s not right.

I know what I look like now. I felt the water against my scales moments ago. So why—

My chest tightens. Maybe it’s just the light . . .

Maybe the stone’s surface distorts images . . .

Maybe—

The reflection smiles.