{"The sea speaks in warnings long before it roars, and tonight it whispered of a rising evil."}
I paced the length of my chambers, hands clasped behind my back, boots silent against the obsidian floor. The walls etched with shifting runes and old sea spells glimmered faintly in the dim blue glow of the Leviathan core embedded overhead. I did not like loose ends. And Kallion his accusation, his audacity was too sharp to leave hanging in the water like a broken net. I stopped by the arched window, the ocean stretching far beyond. My reflection shimmered faintly on the glass. Cold-eyed. Unmoving. A ruler burdened by too many ancient oaths and not enough truth.
I lifted one hand and summoned Tharion, and the shadow responded at once. A flicker of abyssal light, a breath of displaced pressure, and then he was there, materializing in a slow spiral of mist and talons.
"Majesty," Tharion drawled, a pleased smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You will be pleased to know General Kallion is resting quite uncomfortably. I left him unconscious on one of the Outer Isles. Far from Pearl Castle's influence. I will retrieve him tomorrow."
I could not help it, and a low chuckle escaped me, brief and sudden. It caught in my throat like a forgotten tide, but it was real.
And it startled Tharion, and his expression shifted like a crack through ancient armor. His golden-cerulean eyes widened slightly and then narrowed in disbelief.
"You… laughed," he said slowly, blinking. "Gods below, you laughed. I have not heard that sound in decades."
I turned from the window to face him fully, arms folding over my chest. "I didn't realize I'd grown so grim."
"Oh, you have," he said, grinning now, fangs just barely peeking through. "The last time you laughed, a sea serpent devoured three council ships, and you called it poetic justice."
I allowed a ghost of a smile. "That was poetic."
"Blood and abyss, Morkai. If I had known tossing Kallion would earn a laugh, I would have done it years ago."
"You're getting cheeky."
"I serve at your pleasure," he said innocently, though the gleam in his eye betrayed him.
The moment passed like foam on the tide, and I straightened, the weight of dominion returning to my spine. "Enough amusement. I want answers, Tharion. The Emerald Gulf Council does not travel lightly, nor send emissaries unless provoked. Something rattled them enough to make them come to Pearl Castle themselves. Find out what."
Tharion's grin faded into something more serious, his stance sharpening. "You suspect it wasn't just fear of your power?"
"I know it wasn't," I said coldly. "They have feared me for a century and more, and still they have managed to stay comfortably distant until now. Something changed. Something they know, or think they do. I want that knowledge in my hands before sunset tomorrow."
"Understood," he said, dipping his head in a crisp bow. "I will infiltrate the deep court firstword spreads faster in their wine-soaked halls. Someone is always whispering to someone else."
"Good. Use whoever you need. Bribe, threaten, charm, I do not care. Just bring me a name. A whisper. A seed of the truth."
"Yes, your Majesty," Tharion said, and without waiting for dismissal, he vanished into the air with a rush of chilly wind and brine.
Once Tharion was gone, I opted to go down to my secret chambers. The stairs spiralled downward beneath the Pearl Castle, carved from obsidian and mother-of-pearl, slick with ocean moisture and glowing faintly with abyssal runes. My footsteps made no sound, not because I was being cautious, but because this place welcomed only silence. The walls here remembered things best unspoken.
I reached the lowest threshold a heavy gate of bone coral and chained star-iron and raised my hand. The lock unravelled at my touch, whispering secrets only I understood. The chamber beyond was vast, a void cradled in dark, ancient stone. A single pillar rose from its centre, carved with markings even I could not read. This was the Deep ward. My sanctuary. My anchor.
I stood at the centre, and I closed my eyes and inhaled the cold, mineral-rich air, then exhaled slowly and let my power unfurl.
It poured out of me like ink into water tendrils of cold, sovereign force, woven from tide and shadow. I sent it slithering through the ocean currents, past silt and reef, over bones of forgotten leviathans and wrecks lost to time. I reached for the edge of the trenches, where even sea gods feared to swim.
And I felt it, it was faint, vast, and ancient. A pulse older than centuries, older than the blood in my veins. Not sleeping. Not awake. Just waiting. Coiled and cold like a predator in the deep.
"By the tides…" I murmured.
My power pressed further, testing the edges of that abyss, and then it stopped. No. It was stopped and blocked. As if a wall had risen from the ocean floor, black and hungry, denying me access. Not simply resisting but repelling. I pulled back quickly, letting my essence snap back into my body like a tethered harpoon. The effort left my limbs tingling, chest hollowed out by the cold. That power, whatever it was, had not just blocked me. It had noticed me. I staggered back a step and braced a hand against the pillar, jaw clenched tight.
"What the hell is rising down there?"
The Pearl Castle had weathered storms, invasions, and betrayals. I had stood at the edge of gods and monsters and not flinched. But this…this was something else, Something primal.
And for the first time in a long while, I did not feel like the Abyssal Sovereign. I felt like a piece on the board moved by something older and far more dangerous. I turned away from the pillar, retreating up the stairs, the salt air growing heavier with every step.
Whatever the Emerald Gulf Council had felt, it was not paranoia. It was real. I had been so absorbed in my solitude that I never checked on any dangers that threatened the realm. The moment I emerged from the Deep ward chamber, I did not pause. I walked the length of the inner sanctum, palms brushing against stone etched with ancient sigils, and forced my power outward through the coral veins, the black glass walls, the bones of the Pearl Castle itself.
"Wake," I whispered. "Defend."
The wards groaned as they responded, layers of invisible defence humming to life. A low-frequency vibration pulsed through the castle, steady and patient, like a heartbeat reborn. The defences were old magic mines and older still meant to keep gods and monsters at bay.
They trembled now. Not with weakness but warning. The ocean beyond called to me again, so I pushed farther. I extended my reach past the gates, across the cliffs, to the shores. My magic spread like a tide, brushing the beaches, the dunes, the shallows.
And there it was. Decay. The were fewer fish. Coral reefs had dulled, their colours bleeding into grey. Seagrass that once swayed in vibrant green threads now floated limp and pale. Even the lesser predators, sharks, rays, and scaled serpents had fled deeper.
Something was poisoning the rhythm of life to the extent of devouring it. Its hunger crept like oil up from the dark and toward the land, tendrils of it brushing the seabed, slinking closer, inch by inch.
I drew my power back, jaw clenched. "Damn it," I muttered, heat rising in my chest. "This is spreading faster than I thought."
Whatever had stirred in the depths, it was no longer content to remain forgotten. It was rising, and soon it would reach the coastlines. I turned sharply, the hem of my coat swirling behind me, and strode back toward the upper levels of the castle, taking the hidden passage straight to my chambers. The door sealed behind me with a thrum, the wards rippling to acknowledge my return.
After a shower, I chose to find the object of my desires and then found the room he had been assigned empty. I moved to the adjoining rooms, each one more irritatingly untouched than the last. No flicker of movement. No sound but the scent was fresh. I reached out with my senses and there it was: a flicker of power, far too faint for someone like Tharion or Lysander to notice.
Caelan.
He was wandering the damn castle "Of course," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Of course you couldn't stay put."
I should have expected this. Caelan was not the type to wait. Restless. Curious. Irritatingly brave. And now, when the sea was shifting beneath our feet, when powers I did not yet understand were brushing the skin of the realm, he decided to roam around the pearl castle.
"Why do I let you near me?" I exhaled, turning toward the open balcony doors where the salt wind beckoned. "You're going to drive me into an early grave."
Wherever he was, he was alone. And this was no time for anyone to be alone. Once I stepped onto the balcony, my eyes narrowed toward the moonlit courtyards below. "Alright, Caelan," I murmured. "Let's see what kind of trouble you've managed to find yourself in now."