Lightning no longer split the sky, but the sea still whispered of danger.
The waters stirred as if something -or someone powerful was coming for them. Miri felt it too and cold smirk appeared on her face. A fin glittered in the waters as waves started beating ragingly.
Kael's grip on the driftwood staff trembled—not from fear, but from the chill creeping down his spine. Beside him, Lyra stood utterly still, her tail coiled and fins flared as a strange merman surfaced from the stormy shallows, his silver eyes locked on her as if time had dragged this moment out for centuries.
"Vaelen," Lyra breathed.
The name fell like a stone into deep water.
Vaelen was beautiful in the way ancient things often were—worn at the edges but glowing from within. His voice was calm, but the waves churned with each word. "Still playing with mortals, I see."
Lyra's lips twitched. "Still brooding in the deep, I see."
Kael shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like the way this man looked at Lyra—as if he owned a page of her past Kael had no access to. Worse still, Miri stood nearby, the charm she'd gifted Kael now warm against his chest, as if reacting to the magical tension thrumming in the air.
Miri, who hadn't moved a muscle since the lightning struck.
Miri, who wasn't as human as she'd claimed.
The charm had been slipped into Kael's palm just before the storm, her fingers ghosting against his, her voice soft. "You'll need this. Keep it close. It's older than even she is."
He hadn't asked questions then.
He would now.
Vaelen's gaze flicked to Kael, uninterested. "This your new pet?"
Lyra's tail slapped the water. "Watch your tongue."
"Or what? You'll curse me, too?"
Silence. Heavy and hot.
Kael stepped between them. "I don't know who you are, but if you think you can waltz in and—"
Vaelen laughed. Low and ancient. "He speaks."
"And I bite," Kael muttered.
That earned a smirk from Lyra, fleeting but real.
Miri finally stirred, stepping closer to Kael. "You should come with me."
Lyra's head snapped toward her. "You're still here?"
"I live here. Unlike you, I don't disappear for centuries."
Lyra blinked, and something flickered across her face—shock, then realization.
Kael turned to Miri. "Who are you, really?"
Miri smiled sadly. "Someone who remembers what she used to be. Someone who remembers her."
"Enough," Lyra said coldly. "Not here. Not in front of them."
Vaelen's smile vanished. "Secrets taste bitter when swallowed too long, Lyra. The mortal deserves to know."
"You don't get to decide what he deserves."
"And you do?" he snapped.
The sea stilled.
Even the wind seemed to pause.
Kael's voice was quiet. "I want the truth. From all of you. No more riddles. No more cryptic warnings. If I'm bound to this, I deserve to know what the hell I've been pulled into."
Miri looked at him, her expression unreadable. Then she reached for his hand, curling his fingers around the charm she'd given him.
"This binds you more than the curse," she whispered. "It ties you to something much older. Much darker. And far more permanent."
Vaelen nodded slowly. "You'll need protection. Not from Lyra—but from what hunts her."
"Hunts?" Kael repeated.
Lyra didn't deny it.
"There are things in the deep that resent her freedom," Miri said softly. "Things that don't forget."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "And what does that make you?"
Miri tilted her head. "A memory."
Vaelen turned back toward the water. "The tides have changed. You've awakened something, Lyra. And it's coming."
"Let it come," Lyra whispered. "I'm not bored anymore."
Kael stared at her, heart racing. It wasn't just her words. It was the way she stood—shoulders straight, gaze sharp. For the first time since he met her, Lyra looked alive.
Miri turned and vanished into the shadows of the trees.
Vaelen slipped beneath the waves without another word.
Kael remained with Lyra, alone again.
The charm pulsed once.
He looked down at it, then up at her. "So what now?"
She met his gaze, her tail curling protectively. "Now we go deeper."
If the sea was a secret, then Kael was already drowning in it.