"Prophecies are not chains, but choices wrapped in riddles meant to guide, not bind. But those who fear freedom will always use fate as a weapon."
The winds shifted before I heard the footsteps. Tharion did not bother with formalities as he swept into the Pearl Castle, his boots soaked, face grim, trident strapped to his back like a reminder of old wars. His presence carried the scent of salt, ash, and a truth I already suspected. I sat in my seat at the far end of the table, fingers steepled, staring into the map etched across the table in bioluminescent ink. The ocean's trenches glowed faintly beneath my palm, silent, waiting.
"You're late," I said, voice calm, though my pulse had started to hum.
"I'm alive," Tharion muttered, tossing a soaked scroll onto the table. "That counts for something."
I did not respond, and he yanked off his cloak, water pooling at his feet, and ran a hand through his windblown hair. "The high beaches of the Fae realm, the cliffs with the black rocks at the bay? Dead sea creatures littered the shores like offerings. Dozens. All rotting from the inside out."
A chill crept down my spine, and Tharion continued, "They were not hunted. They were drained. As if their very essence was siphoned." His jaw tightened. "This wasn't nature."
"No," I agreed softly. "Of Course not.
He paused for a breath and then dropped the real blow. "There is more. Rumours are spreading across the Fae realm like wildfire. Whispers say the one who summoned with the ancient force in the deep… was Fae-born. That the rot began after a secret summoning on the cliffs."
I looked up sharply. "And they suspect someone?"
His eyes locked on mine. "They claim Caelan was summoned by Lord Ardanis himself and that means that the Fae court is suspecting that Caelan had something to do with it."
My body went still, and my heartbeat thundered once. Then again. Slow. Lethal.
Tharion did not flinch. "You know what the court says of him. Witch-blooded. Dangerous. An outcast whose power was only ever tolerated because it served them."
"And now that same court would turn on him?" I asked, my voice laced with fury. "Use him and then destroy him for what they made him do?"
Tharion gave me a look. "You already know the answer to that, Majesty."
My hands curled into fists, and I rose from the chair. The power that lived beneath my skin stirred with purpose, pressing against my veins. The Abyss did not like injustice.
"They demanded his gifts," I growled. "Used him like a vessel, a cursed diviner. And now they seek to hang him on the gallows of their own making."
He nodded slowly. "Exactly.
Silence stretched between us, and then I said, quieter, "Either way Caelan is in danger."
Tharion studied me. "What will you do?"
I turned to the sea beyond the enchanted windows. The depths pulsed with a power I had only ever sensed in slumbering gods. Something was stirring, and it was not done watching. "I'll go to the Fae realm myself," I said at last. "And if they think they can touch him without consequence," A pulse of power radiated from beneath my feet, shaking the room. " Then let the Fae Court prepare to drown."
I had not even sat down before Tharion spoke again, his voice sharp and edged with something I could not name. "There's more," he said, crossing his arms, shoulders tense beneath the salt-stained leather. "After leaving the Fae cliffs, I swam to Drevina, the human realm.
My head snapped toward him. "Caelan's homeland? Why?"
He nodded and then went on to explain. "A quiet coast. Human realm, too peaceful. I expected ruins or signs of blight. But the beaches were… untouched. No rot. No dead sea life. Nothing."
I stared at him. "You're certain?"
Tharion's jaw worked before he said, "Aye. I dove deep, tested the water, and combed the tide line. The sea refuses to speak there. Like it has been told to hold its tongue."
That made my chest tighten. "Witches' Magic."
"Yes." His eyes glinted. "I found the edge of a protective ward. It cloaks the entire coast. And it is not just woven magic, Morkai. It is anchored by something or someone."
My voice lowered. "His mother, Ysara Thorne. I have heard about her before."
Tharion gave a slow, grave nod. "A witch and not a tame one. She is ancient like the sea. Her energy is different. Subtle, yes, but resolute. No one is getting in unless she wants them in." I turned toward the window overlooking the outer reefs, where the sun carved golden lines across the surface of the water, and that was why Drevina remained untouched.
"Even the rot won't pass into their waters," Tharion murmured. "Whatever is rising in the deep… it avoids Drevina. Or it is blocked. Either way, that coast is protected."
A strange mix of relief and unease settled in my bones, and Caelan was safe for now. But safety had a price. And if the court kept whispering his name in the same breath as darkness, then even his mother's words might not be enough. Tharion shifted his stance, folding his arms again. "You think the witch knows what's coming?"
I exhaled slowly. "I think she knows enough to guard her son with magic no court dares test."
He nodded. "Then the next move belongs to us."
"No," I said quietly, eyes narrowing at the horizon. "The next move belongs to me."
Because if the whispers in the deep had found a way to awaken, I needed to find out why they had not dared cross Drevina. And what exactly Caelan and his blood meant to all of it.
I was still turning over the implications of Devina's untouchable shores when Tharion cleared his throat again, this time with a hesitance I did not like. "There's more," he said, glancing toward the door before lowering his voice. "General Kallion had some things to say when I dumped him on a freaking island.
My gaze sharpened. "Go on."
Tharion shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable in a way that told me I would not like what came next. "He said Lady Nerisca has ambitions."
I snorted. "She always has ambitions. What flavour are they today?"
Tharion did not smile. "She wants to be an Abyssal Consort." The words dropped like a stone in water. Ripples spreading across the still surface of my thoughts. "She plans to corner you," he continued. "She intends to arrange a public ceremony. A binding declaration. You will not be able to walk away without a scandal."
A low, bitter laugh slipped from me. "So that is her game. She could not manipulate me through counsel, so now she is playing politics with silk gloves and a gilded chain."
"She's not alone," Tharion added grimly.
Before I could respond, the doors creaked open and in strode Thalia and Lysander, sea-wind still clinging to their cloaks. "It is about time you showed up. Tharion has a lot to say."
Tharion narrated everything again, and then he gave a sharp nod. "She's trying to tie your hands."
"And using prophecy to do it," Lysander muttered. "She is not subtle about it either. Half the nobles believe the only way peace can return is if the Abyssal Sovereign takes a consort."
My mouth twisted. "Convenient, isn't it? The Emerald Gulf Council arrives, finds their political efforts failing, and now, the same week we discover a summoned evil in the trench, they start waving around a prophecy like it's law."
Thalia's voice was quiet. "Do you believe it?"
"I believe someone's weaponizing it," I growled.
Lysander stopped pacing, meeting my gaze. "Then that means someone on the council… is working with the thing in the trench. Or guiding it."
My stomach turned. "Summoned or aligned," Tharion added. "But not from outside. From within."
Silence fell. Dense and dark like the depths themselves.
"The prophecy," Thalia said, "said peace would return when the Sovereign chose his consort. But peace was never what they wanted. It is a binding spell in disguise, a ritual to lock you to someone of their choosing."
I bared my teeth. "Then they'll learn something valuable."
Thalia tilted her head. "What?"
"I don't chain easily."
Lysander gave a soft chuckle, but there was no humour in it.
They were trying to trap me. Bind me under the illusion of fate and unity. But fate never did a damned thing for me except burn kingdoms and curse my name. And as I stood in the war room of my castle, surrounded by my closest allies, I realized something dangerous, and whoever dared move against me would find out exactly what the Abyss could do when provoked.
Tharion leaned against the stone archway, his eyes unreadable. "Do you even know the full extent of Caelan's power, Your Majesty? When I pushed the Emerald Gold away from the entrance of the pearl castle, he stood strong and could even feel my presence and he was not affected by my powers."
I did not answer right away. My gaze drifted to the sea, restless, ancient, hungry. "No," I murmured. "Not as yet, but for now, he is not the enemy. But I fear that the Fae world might be using his powers for something else, and this is bound to clash with us sooner or later."