11. 11 #2
Orion’s tail flicks again, his irritation clear as day. “Because right now, you are! And until I know how to deal with that, until I know you can relinquish these powers without getting us both killed, you do what I say!”
The coldness of his voice settles within me. His words are sharp, and I can feel the bite behind them. Like he’s still reminding me this isn’t a negotiation.
“Sarah, I'm the king. My subjects are in a panic. I will not be caught playing favorites right now, especially to the land-dweller who stole my father’s magic!” The sting of that settles deep. He knows by now that I did not do this on purpose, but he chooses to be angry with me instead.
He takes a breath, his words more controlled now. “We can discuss more once we're moving. But I will not delay this departure. We have already delayed too long waiting for you to arrive in the dining hall. And just to be clear, you will not say no.”
Somehow, his ordering me around rattles me more than when he yelled. I barely nod, the weight of everything pressing down again. This expedition still feels like a dream. Without another word, he turns, slithers out, raising a hand behind him, and the door closes with a firm thud.
I stare at the door for a long moment, my arms crossed and jaw tight. So that’s it. No choice, no break, no time to even breathe. Just magic, duty, and expectations I never asked for. And for some reason, he expects me to accept all of it without question.
I swim downstairs slowly, still learning how to swim around without proper diving gear.
Making my way down the spiral and across the long corridor was more difficult than I had anticipated; having to deflate my lungs very carefully to lower my body just enough so I wasn’t swimming right at the top of the ceiling.
I’m dressed in what I wore to sleep, not that it really matters. Everything I was given looks the same. I don’t bother to fix my hair or even find a way to see my reflection. What’s the point? I’m human, in a place where I don’t belong—even if the ocean is my number one passion, this isn’t home.
The long corridor that once led me to the dining hall now sounds quieter. At the far end, near the arched opening that marks the outer edge of the palace, I spot Orion with General Nyxalene.
Stretched tall, her arms crossed over her chest, and her silver eyes glowing even in the dim marilume lighting, she appears to have him locked in a conversation. The way she leans in slightly, her gaze piercing, it feels like they’re arguing without raising their voices.
I hesitate, floating a little ways off, trying to decide if I’m interrupting something.
Orion notices me first. He straightens, dropping his arms to his side as he gestures for me to come closer. “Sarah, finally, you're ready.”
Nyxalene doesn’t talk, but she watches me as I swim toward them—probably mentally sizing me up for a casket.
“Not like I had a choice,” I quip, flicking my eyes between them.
“Nyx will lead the way.” Orion orders, ignoring my words.
I blink. “Why?”
“It is a guarded temple,” he explains. “Only a few have access to it. Velmira, our archseer, will be there. She awaits our arrival.”
“Who is she?”
He huffs. “She is a noble in my council. One of our final archseer's. She has requested your presence.”
Nyx shifts, finally speaking, but not to me. To Orion “I will keep guard outside once we arrive. If anything moves that should not, I will handle it.”
The way she says, handle it, sounds a lot like kill it. My spine stiffens, but Orion doesn’t react. He trusts her. I can’t decide if that comforts me or terrifies me.
“Why does this Velmira want to see me?” I ask, fidgeting with the strips on my dress. “Why can’t you go talk to her and come back with whatever she wants?”
“Because the message is not for me,” he states. “It is for you.”
What message does an ocean creature need to relay to me, a human?
“Uh…” I brush my hair from my face, placing it behind my ear, and trying not to look as uncertain as I feel.
Nyxalene moves past me without a glance, heading toward the main gates, her presence like a shadow stretching over the coralstone walls. Orion watches her leave, then turns to me.
“She isn't the nicest thing around. Especially toward a human she doesn't trust.” he explains.
I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious.”
“She also fears what you represent.”
“And what’s that?”
“Change,” he informs. “Let’s go.”
We swim in silence for a while, weaving through currents that pull like whispers and sea flora that moves faintly with life.
It becomes harder to swim this far in the deep without gear, but I keep trying anyway.
I push through the burn, even with powers allowing me to breathe right now, my lungs can feel the heat clawing at them on the inside.
As we descend into deeper waters on our way to this village, my thoughts drift far from the sea and the pace I am trying to uphold with them.
I don’t know what to believe anymore.
This place . . . the magic . . . Orion. Every part of it defies everything I’ve ever known.
I’m a scientist. A marine biologist. I analyze facts, data, and ecosystems. I don’t do prophecies or talk to oracles who can see the future.
Yet here I am, about to swim to some mystical archseer with a sea king who speaks like he knows me better than I know myself. Every instinct I’ve trained over the years is screaming to run, to find something solid and familiar, something real.
I glance over at Orion, his expression still unreadable, always unreadable. His movements are fluid and confident, like the water obeys him. It could.
And maybe the thing that scares me the most with all this craziness . . . is that maybe, just maybe, magic is real.