28. 28

twenty-eight

Sarah

My expectations for Current Two were already high. What I hadn’t stopped to think about was how this village would actually look.

Drekaris isn’t really a village at all. It’s an underwater military fortress carved into the side of a sea trench, the closest settlement to the palace and its strongest defense.

Entering their territory was easier than I thought it would be.

That didn’t stop the stares, though. A few of the younger Neravyn glance my way as we pass, their expressions sharp.

Maybe they weren’t at the Wave Rite, or maybe they were and just wish I hadn’t been.

Since being in Virellan, most of my choices have been decided for me.

This was one thing I got to choose—to train, rest, and live in Drekaris.

A place where I could learn their ways without Orion constantly at my side. Where I could try to belong.

I glide beside Defymin, keeping only a few feet behind Lord Zevrin. Some of the guards dip their heads in respect as Zevrin passes, while others just glare—probably because of me.

The homes in Drekaris are nothing like I imagined.

Privacy doesn’t seem to exist here. Sleeping quarters are carved directly into the trench walls, stacked one above the other until they disappear into the shadows above.

Each one is spare, just a hollowed cavern with a scattering of belongings and the occasional seaweed blanket.

The Neravyn don’t live for comfort. They live to endure. And yet—there are no children.

“Where are all the young Neravyn?” I ask Defymin.

“Tidelets and mothers don't live here,” he explains.

“Only single Neravyn become guards. Once partners tie their lives together, the male remains in service, and the female tends to their home and children. Those dwellings are scattered beyond Drekaris, but you will never see anyone besides guards inside the fortress.”

He gives me more detail than I asked for, but I find myself grateful for it.

This morning had started differently than I intended. I woke early, expecting the palace quarters to still be quiet, only to stumble into Nyxalene, Lord Zevrin, and Defymin already gathered for the day. After breakfast, I asked Nyxalene if I could join the others and leave ahead of schedule.

The truth was simple. I wanted to avoid Orion. I wasn’t ready to enter another conversation I didn’t want to have.

Nyxalene told me she understood, but reminded me I couldn’t avoid him forever. If we really were sea mates, the bond would eventually demand what I kept trying to push aside.

Wonderful.

Zevrin led Defymin and me into a wide training cavern carved deep into the trench.

At first glance, it seems like nothing more than a dark, hollow, circular chamber, but as my eyes adjust, I notice smaller doorways branching off in every direction.

Each looks large enough to hold a duel. That must be where they complete their challenges for the First Current.

When we reach the front of the group, Zevrin gestures for Defymin and me to take our positions. He moves to a raised half-moon platform that blends seamlessly into the cavern wall.

He speaks, but the smell in the cavern burns my nose, overpowering his words.

I didn’t notice it when we swam into the cavern, but with my movements halted it makes it impossible to ignore.

Every breath stings, as if my skin is being peeled from the inside.

Rotting fish and mildew. That is the closest description I can compare it to.

Was this the scent of Neravyn bodies in motion? Their version of sweat? If so, it’s grotesque.

Zevrin demonstrates our first sequence of movements, the group falls into a rhythm.

Aiming for what he describes as awareness drills.

Each Neravyn shifts in sharp, synchronized motions, blades cutting arcs through the water.

I follow along, completing the drills as instructed.

Even with my tail, coiled tightly beneath me, I'm still larger than the rest, and the Neravyn behind me seem keenly aware of every sweep of it through their path.

Most of the males—and even a few females—quietly repositions themselves elsewhere in the cavern.

Heat creeps up my neck. Lord Zevrin placed me here himself, fully knowing how large I've become.

And while I'm grateful for the space they've given me, I can't shake the feeling that all I've managed to do is make myself impossible to ignore.

I keep waiting for the training to overwhelm me. It never quite does. Other than my physique being different from theirs, they treat me with the same respect, or disrespect, and attention as anyone else here.

We start a second sequence when the formation splits down the center. At first, I don’t understand why, until the tug hits me, sharp and magnetic, pulling at my chest and mind.

Orion.

I force myself to keep moving, repeating the steps Zevrin had demonstrated a moment ago. I will not let his presence unravel me. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

From the corner of my eye, I watch him glide to the platform beside Zevrin. They speak briefly, and Zevrin gives a small nod and steps back as Orion faces the group.

“Excuse me, my apologies for the interruption in your training today,” Orion says. His voice carries easily through the cavern. “First, congratulations are in order. If you are here, it's because you completed the first current and are one step closer to becoming one of Virellan’s finest warriors.”

I can't tell if he is looking directly at me or simply addressing the group. Being at the front, with no one behind me, leaves me far too exposed.

Part of me wants to look at him, to prove I'm not afraid. To show him his presence doesn't shake me, but I know better. Meeting his eyes will only feed the pull clawing at my chest. So I keep my gaze locked forward instead, as every part of me burns to defy him.

“If you carry magic,” he continues, “I will personally take responsibility for that section of your training. Zevrin will inform you of our meeting place for those sessions. Please continue your training, and good luck.”

All at once, training resumes as it was before.

Movements become harmonious from every finling.

My focus follows Orion. Seamlessly making his way down the platform and heading straight for me.

His physique seems tighter today, as if he has secrets he has been holding onto.

His tall frame towers over me and sends my heart back into its cage, afraid of letting any feelings free—especially now with the fresh knowledge that he can sense my damn emotions.

My heart and mind are at war. One part of me wants to flee—run back to the safety of land, to the life I know. The other wants to stay, drawn to him in ways I haven’t fully discovered.

And then there’s the scientist in me, whispering that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

That I could be the only marine biologist to ever explore the depths like this.

But I know humans. I know how some treat the ocean.

I know I wouldn’t be the kind of person who returns to tell a story. I’d be the kind who keeps it a secret.

“Your magic lessons begin now, Snapdragon. We're going to see exactly how many tricks you have up your sleeve,” he says with a grin.

The thought I had moments ago about his body holding secrets—his eyes confirm it. There’s a faint shimmer behind them, and the way he holds his face makes it clear he knows something I don’t.

He says nothing else and leaves the training cavern. I follow behind him slowly. Defymin dips his head, his brows knitting together. I shrug in response.

Since becoming the pocket-sized version of Orion, I haven't gotten the privilege to test the speed of this tail. Everywhere I've gone has been through the palace or accompanied by a chaperone as if I need to still be constantly surveilled.

Orion doesn’t lose momentum for me. I actually think this is his way to test my speed against his, knowing I can swim on my own now.

Our brief passage through these waters takes us somewhere I would have never imagined. The currents turn monolithic—massive walls of water colliding in the dark. They crash into each other, tumbling downward like underwater cliffs, repeating the same violence as surface waterfalls.

It’s as if both sides are fighting for the same space, an endless battle with no victor. Two forces, forever struggling for even the smallest stretch of territory.

Orion swims right between the two crashing waves and dives deep into the dark, a vast, open chasm set before us. Only a few feet from the edge, I halt. My fear sprawling out before me, my humanity showing—reminding me I'm not invincible.

When more moments pass, and I don't see Orion coming back for me, I realize he's still testing me. So, I dive after him.

Jolted with adrenaline, and the water pushing me farther down from the maelstrom of its current, I realize there is no returning up.

Continuing further into the depths of the ocean.

Several hundred feet. More than any human—or diver—would ever be able to experience without enduring decompression sickness.

And yet, I feel nothing. Nothing but exhilarating pleasure and freedom.

While darkness shrouds us from every angle, I can still see so clearly, as if I hold the same night vision as some animals on the surface. The surroundings consist solely of ordinary underwater materials—rocks of every size, sand craters, seaweed, and coral—evenly lining the ocean floor.

I spot Orion to my left and swim over to him. He coils tightly, tucking his hips and torso into the circle space created from his tail, bending over. His back faces me, nodding his head up and down in agreement with something.

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