2. 2 #3
I draw on the power within me, and the runes etched across my chest and arm flare to life, glowing a vibrant teal.
The energy coils and hums beneath my scales, rippling outward like waves stirred in the deep.
It is light and fluid, protective in its own way, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat—a power born from me, beautiful and lethal, forged from the surface and midnight sky at my birth.
Even as I feel the surge of my magic, my thoughts drift to my father. I had always believed he carried his magic with him to the very end. But if Velmira’s words are true, if this land-dweller, Sarah, holds it now, then he must have severed it before he died.
And yet I remember now, how in the final years of his reign, he had struggled with even the simplest spells. Brushing it off as exhaustion due to his age. A passing affliction.
But what if it wasn’t? I glide a short path across the room, barely aware of the way the water shifts around me.
Did he know? Did he feel the evil coming sooner than expected? Is that why he hid his magic, why he gave it away?
The questions come one after another, faster than I can quiet them.
My father had secrets, and I am only now beginning to uncover them, but now those secrets are tangled up in a human who was never meant to hold his magic.
I will find the answers I need myself and I will take back what belongs to my kingdom.
I sense Ildrina before she speaks. Her presence has become as familiar to me as my own thoughts. Your majesty, would you require my attendance in this quest.
She is my bonded Snapdragonis and clan leader to the Snapdragonis territory.
She was my anchor when my father died. At my lowest, when all the responsibilities of a king became too heavy and I could not continue forward, I ventured to where very few risked.
In doing so I bonded with the fiercest leader, who taught me it is acceptable to not know what to do next.
She is not just bonded to me, she is my friend. My companion when I am at a low.
No. I exhale, bubbles rising and dancing toward the surface. She is a part of this, I admit. Whether either of us wants it or not. But I must keep you safe too. Stay hidden until she returns what she has stolen and peace has been restored in the kingdom. Do not venture out until I come to you.
Yes, my king. I shall stay hidden in my territory. Should you need me, you need only send me a signal. Her tail flicks and just as quickly as she spoke in my head, she is gone. Her tan body leaves an empty shadow of silence.
I reach for my gear, slinging it over my shoulder.
A simple satchel woven from kelp-thread and shark-hide—light but strong.
My mind drifts, not entirely present. My father’s magic, the prophecy, the land-dweller.
Her name will not stop echoing through me.
And even though having Ildrina near would give me some comfort, she cannot follow me to dry land.
To risk her safety, only for my own comfort, is selfish.
I reach for the chamber door—to announce my departure to the guards outside my chambers—when the current convulses around me.
I turn toward the open archway, the same place I had lingered only moments ago, just as a familiar blur of brown and gold rockets through, tumbling in a whirl of shell and flippers.
My heart lurches. “Morin?”
The sea turtle bumps into the obsidian column to my left, rights himself with a shake of his ancient, barnacled head, and blinks wide eyes at me.
You’re alive? I reach for him telepathically, the connection forming like a gasp of breath. You disappeared with my father—
Prince Orion. Wait—King Thaldrin disappeared? Morin’s voice rings in my mind, uncharacteristically sharp. What do you mean disappeared?
I freeze. The words stick in my throat. He is dead, Morin. For two years now.
The turtle reels back, as if struck by a tide.
No. No, I—I did not know. I have been guarding his powers near the wrecks on the east side of the ocean, a few miles from the coast. Hiding.
I thought he sent me away forever. He never told me when to return or if I would return.
Told me to vanish if things turned dark.
Morin’s eyes blink rapidly, his beak dipping in hesitation.
His flippers curl in toward his shell, then push outward with a firmer sweep, resolve settling into the motion.
I was coming to inform King Thaldrin of something that happened, he explains, regaining focus.
I saw something. A girl. A land-dweller.
She absorbed his magic, and when she did—
He spins in the water, shell flashing. Magic. His magic. The sea lit up around her like it remembered her.
My breath stills. Morin are you sure?
I do not know who she is, your highness. My apologies, I mean, your majesty. But the ocean did not reject her. It welcomed her. And I have never seen anything like what happened when she awakened his magic.
I exhale slowly, mind racing. He does not know about the prophecy. Or about the scroll. He does not need to.
Morin, thank you. I needed to hear that.
His eyes soften. I wish it had been better news.
No, I reply. It is exactly what I needed to hear.
And with the weight of prophecy clinging to my back like a second skin, the confirmation about what she has stolen, and the path now clear thanks to Morin’s words, I swim.
Toward her.