CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Noctis sat with Jun for hours, ravenous for every bit of textbook knowledge the healer knew of the Sunder Coin.
They poured over a parchment, detailing each tidbit of information through dinner, even while Jun jumped into the ocean’s water to clean up quickly before heading back to Zahara.
She wouldn’t leave the captain’s quarters, and it’d been days since she allowed anyone aside from Jun around her.
I cursed my broken body—my memories, the poison pouring through my blood, the empty depths of power I couldn’t muster.
There’s nothing I can do to fix myself.
It was infuriating when the world pushed for something I couldn’t produce… as if I needed more reason to detest myself.
When I got too frustrated working with Laziel on my powers, we began to discuss the plan to retrieve the final trident piece. It would take us both as a team to retrieve it and to ensure we both escaped alive.
“Each corner, every cell, is guarded by troops, not just one guard here or there. We have to be very careful when we get inside,” Laziel instructed.
In the days we practiced magic, I began to notice the wrinkles that marred his face and the slight limp he walked against on the right side. And although age and injury prominently wracked his body, he offered to help at every chance he received.
“There are trapdoors with secret entrances and exits. Always watch your back. I’ll have yours if you have mine,” he went on. “And if our plans change unexpectedly, we get out of there… alive.”
I merely nodded, taking in the information and working to digest it without delving deeper into panic. I wanted to protect him, understanding the torment of a sibling in enemy hands, but if I couldn’t even use my powers—
“Aye!” Jun called from the helm as he steered the ship into the harbor’s dock at Brigg Isle.
The crew set to work securing it. Noctis readied the lines and bumpers to protect the hull. Calvin threw the anchor overboard with a splash that covered his front side, in turn eliciting strewn curses. I furled the sails to steady the ship, and Laziel tied them to the posts.
The wind blew through my ears—the only sound interrupting the stillness. In the distance, hawks circled an animal, tearing flesh from its body in chunks. I shivered. Sometimes silence brings peace. And sometimes it becomes the echo that fear festers within.
“Time to find nobody,” Calvin whispered as we lined up on the main deck.
“There has to be someone here that could tell us what is happening,” I countered, sure we were going to walk into a quiet port filled with villagers at rest.
Our steps resounded through the island, from the gangplank and across the barren land.
The road into the village was still intact, but it all felt wrong, too clean to have been used in some time, yet too overgrown already to have been tended to.
Houses and shops lined the narrow path in quiet rows toward the market stalls, windows cracked open as if someone left in a hurry… or intended to return.
Calvin, Noctis, Laziel, and I walked the market and village streets, yet not a single soul met us, only empty stalls and the uneasy sense of being watched by nothing at all.
Homes were left as if interrupted mid-meal, fishing poles left on shores like they were dropped suddenly, and even coins left unattended on market stall counters.
I was so, so wrong.
There were no signs of struggle. No scattered belongings, broken glass, or blood. Everything was orderly, and that made it all even worse.
“Has anything like this ever happened before?” I asked shakily.
“Not in my hundreds of years alive,” Noctis replied. “I’ve seen towns massacred but never this.”
Chills swept across my body thinking of the brutality and gore Noctis had witnessed in his life, and I prayed the villagers were safe.
I found solace in the prayers to the celestial gods, even though I lived amongst two.
Even knowing the Ocean Mother’s evil schemes, the reflex to send my begs to the goddess became difficult to halt.
So, instead, I sent them to no one in particular, spread scarce along the threads to the gods and goddesses above, and hoped they met approving ears.
The silence of the island pressed in, not the peaceful kind, but the kind that urged and carried weight, as if the village held its breath with us all.
“Maybe there’s a holiday they celebrate we are unaware of?” I murmured again.
Noctis bent over and picked up a half-opened parcel, only to reveal a slab of warm, foul smelling butchered meat, maggots digging into the rotting flesh. He extended it to me.
“I doubt they’d leave in such a haste. Besides, Rashima isn’t for another two fortnights.”
“I don’t get it,” I admitted. “The Royal Vanguard needs merfolk blood, not human. What could they possibly do with an entire village of them?”
Noctis stepped into my periphery, casting shade across my sweaty body with his outstretched wings.
“Something is off,” he said slowly.
“Of course something is off. Everyone is missing,” Calvin replied, voice dripping with mockery.
“No. Something in the air… Like a god's approach.”
For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Our eyes locked, wide and gleaming with the same unspoken fear. Then, as if pulled by some unseen force, we turned and fled toward the ship.
An unnatural chill swept through the air like a warning, buzzing with uncertainty.
The ocean’s water preternaturally swarmed upward like a tidal wall threatening to wipe out the entire harbor.
It surged and pulsed as if begging its puppeteer to let it loose.
It abnormally split in the middle, exposing the seafloor below the waves.
And the hundreds of missing villagers.
Men. Women. Elderly. Children. All stood at attention, their eyes like stone cemented in place looking forward, arms plastered to their sides.
We froze mid-run.
“Are they…” I couldn’t finish the question, as if asking it would ensure a response I could never bear to live with.
“They’re dry like the water hasn’t even touched them,” Laziel murmured, none of them moving a muscle.
“I can feel their souls,” Noctis whispered.
“Like, still in their bodies?” Calvin asked.
Noctis chanced a nod, and my next breath trembled.
On the ship in the distance, Jun stalked through the shadow, pulling the ship out of the dock. Meters from the wall of water and split sea, he departed from the port hesitantly, trying not to catch unwanted attention.
We watched as he frantically pointed to the east, motioning for us to meet him further from the statued villagers. We inched that direction, out of direct line of sight, then bolted when Jun was close enough to shore.
We threw ourselves toward the water separating us from the ship; however, my body was caught midair before I crashed into the sea, cradled in the arms of Noctis.
We hovered just above Calvin and Laziel who pushed against the waves and chaos of the water display.
Once our feet planted on the deck, we scrambled to pull them aboard.
“One day I’ll get a ride, right?” Calvin fumed, making sure to splash water in the god’s direction.
“Absolutely not,” Noctis deadpanned, shooting an arm out to pull Calvin to the deck while Laziel surged from the water over the railings, transforming midair.
The realm seemed to tremble—the air buzzing, water violently churning, every ripple shivering under the weight of an approaching horde. The ocean split further to reveal what advanced. Metal glinted behind the frozen villagers in rows for miles. It clanged in sync, a war drum of a noise.
Oceanwrought armies, prepared for war, marched into Terraguard territory.
Before them all, the Ocean Mother led the troops.
Silver streaming hair billowed past the nose she poised to the sky, a goddess of destruction and confidence.
Her porcelain skin glimmered against the sun’s rays, a display of strength as she conducted the villagers and armored soldiers in their advance.
“We leave for the Abyssal Hold now,” I ordered, my eyes trained on the goddess as we sailed away.
My hands grew clammy with each ticking second, but I couldn’t peel my eyes from the Ocean Mother.
Something tugged at me, inviting me to step backward toward the goddess, as if an innate part of me begged to be nearby.
Siloed in blue tinted armor, barnacles plastered across the shield like razor blades, the goddess stormed, a grimacing snarl permanently imprinted on the Ocean Mother’s face.
“It’s not safe,” Noctis ordered low, his own eyes trailing the goddess in the distance. “They are nearer than you think. Step now, and they will see… not with eyes, but with instinct.”
“Never thought these words would leave my mouth, but I think Noctis is right,” Calvin agreed. “Let’s get away before trying to throw ourselves into a war. It’d be thousands versus six.”
Raven cawed.
“Thousands versus seven,” Calvin corrected with a glare to the bird.
“But if we wait, they’ll storm inland past the harbor and into the villages. Everyone on Brigg Isle will die,” I snapped through clenched teeth, urging them to understand.
“So, we need to get the weapon to end it all.”
All heads snapped toward the helm of the ship.
Zahara.
She held the wrapped, bloodied stub of her severed arm to her stomach. Her eyes, normally calm, burned with a sharp, glassy fire—wide, unblinking, and fixed with terrifying focus.
“Caelyn and Laziel leave immediately when further east in the Pantheorn Sea, closer to the Abyssal Hold. We will prepare and evacuate Brigg Isle and meet them back on the far side between Brigg and the Aeltharyn Peninsula.” Her words were final command.
“They aren’t ready–” Noctis attempted, but Zahara quickly cut him off.
“She will never be ready according to you. If you protect her from the world, she will start to resent you. Do you not know anything about your Blood Tie?”
Noctis stepped forward, fire in his stare.
“Mark me: I will raze empires and drown seas to keep her safe.”
“So be it, she will find the last piece. Then, maybe, just maybe, the world will be quiet enough for you to love her without fear,” Zahara ordered, never breaking the god’s eye contact.
“I am ready.” I stepped into their line of sight. “We both are.” I gestured to Laziel, who stood with his chin raised as if demonstrating his willingness of urgency.
“Give us a moment,” Noctis commanded, his eyes searching mine, desperate to convince me to stay.
The crew silently offered us a private moment, shuffling away to the helm of the ship, eyes still plastered at Brigg Isle—at the innocents forced to march into death.
“You said I am powerful, even without powers. Have you changed your mind already?” I faltered, hurt thick in my throat.
Noctis closed the distance between us. His hand slowly grazed my neck, fingers trailing so softly across my skin. I swallowed, and his eyes caught the action.
“You don’t hold power, darling. You are power.
” He lowered his head, his nose meeting my ear, and I nearly collapsed into him as his breath trickled in.
“But that’s not why I’m terrified. What scares me is knowing what it’s like to lose you.
And I know I won’t be able to survive that twice.
It’s not you I don’t think is ready. It’s me. ”
“You won’t have to,” I whispered, but the words caught, slightly trembling as I restrained myself.
I wanted to lean in… wanted to touch my lips to his, feel his warmth spread along me as he gripped me…
wanted to feel safe for the first time in my entire life.
But wanting him made me vulnerable, and I needed to be present to fight without any distractions.
“You’re right. Because you’re coming back to me.” His hand trailed to the back of my head, lightly fisting the hair at the nape of my neck. Oh, gods. I was going to give in. “I have something for you before you go.”
He released me, the absence of his body against my skin nearly making me shiver. From his vest pocket, he pulled out a rolled parchment.
“For you, love,” he breathed with aching softness, handing it to me.
I slipped the scroll from his fingers and sat down along the deck to roll it out. It spread across the wooden panels and revealed a hand-drawn map, a red circle scribbled around multiple locations.
“Here,” Noctis pointed at the nearest one on the map, “is where we first met. The day Raven and I found you washed up on the shores. Even in the chaos of that night, I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful and strong, watching you fight off the Thirstlings.”
He moved to the next circle.
“Where we trained every day and night. You were so hard headed and adamant about working yourself to near death every single day. I was worried about you, but the day you mastered your stance, we went to Brandy’s Hearth and Pies, and you chose the whipped lime tart you always claimed was ‘blessed by the gods themselves.’”
The taste of the sweet and tart pastry lathered my tongue, the creaminess of its filling and the flaky crust hugging my taste buds.
“This is where you first told me the three words I never thought I’d ever hear a day in my life.” He paused, focusing on the location with eyebrows drawn.
He went through the rest, each reciting the memory attached to the place—the temple we went to complete the Blood Tie ritual, our first meal together, even the forest we walked when I told him the truth about my parents and Evelyn.
I had no words at first, caught in shock that he went through the work to present such a heartfelt gift. Or that he remembered each piece of our lives.
Even when I did not.
“If you never remember our past, that’s okay, because I want to live it with you again. All over. Every day, every minute, every second. With you. I will remember it forever,” he murmured with aching softness, his hands plastered to the map as if he wanted them to be against something… or someone.
“You didn’t tell me about this one,” I whispered, pointing to a lone circle at the far-right corner of the parchment.
“This one’s waiting for us. Find your way back to me, and when this is all over, I’ll take you there myself. Just us, no more chaos. That’s a threat and a promise.”
I closed my fingers around Noctis’s wrist then turned to walk away, throwing a wink over my shoulder.
“I look forward to it.”