Kai
Chapter five
Hollow Decks
Stepping aboard the kappas’ ship, dark magic seeps through every crack.
These creatures are half-man, half-monstrosity, once drowned, dragged back to the surface by the ocean, their flesh twisted into something inhuman.
Resurrection is agony, bones cracking, skin splitting, lungs collapsing only to regrow with gills, claws sprouting where fingers once were.
No man survives that kind of death unless he’s already gone.
The kappas aren’t alive, not truly. They breathe air they shouldn’t, living contradictions of death and life, bound to the ocean’s will.
For them to walk the surface at all means something is broken, an imbalance deep within the ocean.
What makes them dangerous isn’t only their claws or their unnatural bodies, but their bond to the deep.
They’ve mated with sirens, forged connections that left them less man, more monster, and far too attuned to the sea.
The ocean doesn’t forgive, and neither do they.
With their secrets, their ancient knowledge, they are an army born of dark magic and bone.
An army that cannot die. Behead them, and they’ll only grow anew.
Maybe I should consider an alliance after all. They hear things. They know things. The only question is, can they be trusted? Or are they just another piece in the ocean’s endless, merciless game? Something vile churns beneath the surface.
“Son, take a seat. Make yourself at home,” the captain says, gesturing to a chair fashioned from whale bone and algae.
I sit, keeping my eyes on the ship around me.
It’s skin and bone, literally. An eerie carcass of a vessel that somehow stays afloat, despite the water that trickles through the walls and the gaping holes in its hull.
It looks like it was wrecked long ago and dragged back from the bottom by something that refused to let it die. Just like its crew.
I glance back at the captain. “What’s your name?” I ask. “We never exchanged, but you know mine. Seems only fair I know yours.”
A smirk pulls at the somewhat good half of his face. The other side is missing, eaten away or never returned to him. “Varn,” he says. “Name’s Varn. I’ve captained this ship for the last seven hundred and fifty years.”
Shock punches through me, hard. Seven hundred and fifty years? That’s ancient, even sea beasts don’t last that long. I steady myself. “Alright then, Varn,” I say, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. “What kind of deal did you have in mind?”
“Your scar,” Varn says, his tone steady, touched with something cold.
“The one running down your right arm, it’s not just a wound.
It’s a key.” I freeze. “It will start to grow things,” he continued, gazing unblinkingly.
“Claws. Teeth. Pieces of her. The siren who gave you that scar has passed, and now, parts of her will begin to emerge through you. Rare fragments, laced with her power. When you reach the fountain, you’ll need them.
They must be cast into the water to unlock its magic, proof that the siren trusted you with herself.
Only then will the fountain trust you in return.
” He leans in, his single eye gleaming with something unreadable.
“When they start to show,” he murmurs, “pull them out. Keep them safe. Do not lose them. Do not share them. They’re yours.
And now, they’re mine too. Because I’ve shared this truth with you, you will help me make a wish.
” He shifts in his seat, and only then do I notice the table between us.
It’s covered in strange objects, sea-worn trinkets, glass vials glowing faintly, flickering in the low light.
Each one shimmers with droplets of rain, like the ocean had cried into them herself.
My brow lifts, suspicion threading through my voice. “And what would you wish for?”
Varn’s eye hardens. For a moment, something flickers there, regret, maybe.
Or exhaustion so deep it feels older than the sea itself.
“I wish to be free of this cursed existence,” he says quietly.
“I’ve lived longer than any man should, trapped in an endless loop, bound to the ocean, unable to die.
I am the longest-living creature in the sea, but that’s no gift. It’s a sentence.”
He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle.
“I want it to end. I want freedom. True death. Peace. That is my wish. You will grant it, no matter the cost. That is our deal: I give you the truth, and in return, you help me break the bond.” His voice is steady, but I can hear it, the centuries of torment buried beneath every word, echoing in the silence that follows.
A strange wave of pity rolls through me.
I can’t fathom the torment of being trapped in a body that isn’t your own for seven hundred and fifty years, bound to a life you never chose, never wanted.
To crave death and be denied rest… It's a fate more brutal than any I’ve known.
I wonder if, in all that time, Varn had loved ones.
A family long gone. A love lost to the waves.
Maybe he still dreams of them. Maybe that’s the worst part.
The weight of it settles on me, heavy and quiet.
Agreeing to share the fountain wasn’t part of my plan.
But I can’t ignore the truth that having these creatures on our side, creatures bound to the sea in ways I’ll never understand, might be the twist we need.
The one thing that tips the odds. However, allying with them is risky; they’re unpredictable and violent creatures.
If I help them, they’ll help us. I steel myself, locking down the flicker of hesitation in my chest. “I’ll make a deal with you,” I say, my voice firm. Steady. Decided.
“I will free you. You have my word.” I extend my hand, ready to seal the pact. Varn’s cold, blue fingers reach for mine, but then he hesitates. His eyes narrow, and the air around us thickens.
“One more thing,” he says, voice low and laced with weight.
My brow furrows. One more thing? Of course there is. “The girl,” Varn murmurs, a rare softness in his tone. “She is important.” Confusion knots in my chest, but I already know who he means.
“Yes, boy. Mira,” he confirms, as if plucking the name straight from my mind. “She is the key. If you truly want to find the fountain, she’s who you’ll need. She doesn’t know how important she is yet, but she will. And soon, the entire ocean will know too.”
I rake a hand through my rain-soaked hair, trying to make sense of it. Why Mira? Why is she tied to something as ancient and closely guarded as the fountain? “What is it about her that makes her so valuable?” I ask.
Varn leans forward, his voice certain. “Her blood,” he says.
“She’s part siren and they trust her. And trust goes farther than magic with those wicked little creatures.
” Disgust curls in my gut. A siren, the one creature I hate the most. I would rather come face to face with a nyx before a siren.
Varn continues, “Her birthmark, it’s the final key to the map.
Without it, nothing unlocks. Not the path.
Not the power. Nothing. She must be protected at all costs. ”
“Protecting someone I loathe will be… challenging,” I breathe slowly, measuring the angle of this new plan. “Fine. I’ll keep her alive, if it gets me to the fountain.”
My mouth is careful, but my aim is not. Finishing what my father started, what he broke himself on, becomes my calculus.
I will be steadier, smarter, and colder.
I will become everything he wasn’t and complete everything he failed to do.
If Mira is the key, then I’ll treat her exactly like one: useful, expendable, and precise.
I’ll hold her close, pull what I need, and walk away when the lock clicks open.
Varn stares at me for a moment, then speaks.
“She’s the female ruler of the ocean,” he goes on, reverence softening his voice.
“A force more powerful than even she understands. When she unlocks what she is, she won’t just belong to the ocean.
She will be the ocean.” He looks out toward the waves, as if something ancient stirs just beyond sight.
“The sea cannot carry her soul forever,” he says.
“Even it must rest. Mira was chosen before she even took her first breath. The ocean marked her in her mother’s womb.
” Varn’s voice lowers, barely more than a whisper.
“Her family knew. But they passed before they could tell her. She was left unaware and yet, she’s the only one who can carry the ocean forward. ”
Mira is the new Soul of the Ocean? The one living force that keeps the balance between dark and light in a sea crawling with wretched creatures. The power in her veins is ancient, and once she inherits the Soul, nothing, not blade, not beast, not god, will be able to touch her.
“Seems she’s found you,” Varn says, his eyes narrowing like he can sense her through the waves.
His gaze drifts past me, sharp, knowing, and settles on something in the distance.
I turn slightly, following his line of sight.
The Siren is approaching, gliding through the water like a ghost returning home.
“I must go,” he says, still watching her.
“We’ll need to take her eventually since she holds the most power.
No one can know about our bargain. Not your crew.
Not the girl. Keep her safe until the time comes.
Let her find who she is. Do not tell her, or the prophecy will need to be rewritten.
She is meant to find who she is on her own.
Collect all the pieces of the map. They will arise when they are meant to.
” A pause. Then, calmly, “I’ll be seeing you soon. ”
I never agreed to handing her over. It seems she will be more valuable when she’s with me. He can think what he wants for now.
He extends his hand, blue, bloated, slick with death and sea rot.
I take it. The cold seeps into my skin like a curse.
We have a deal. Without another word, I return to my ship.
I watch as his vessel cuts through the water with impossible speed…
then dives beneath the surface like a predator.
Gone. No trace. It’s easy to see how no one escapes them.
How their enemies vanish into ocean myths, never to be heard from again.
I take my place at the helm, one hand resting on the worn wood. The sea stretches quiet and endless ahead. Her ship is approaching fast, like fate barreling toward me. I watch as the sails cut through the mist and the crew scrambles to dock, but all I see is her.
She’s here. A destined collision I would’ve given anything to avoid. My burden. My responsibility. The key to the fountain and the unraveling I never saw coming. And still, somehow, my newfound treasure.