The rain that fell on Indoria did not stop for three days.
It soaked the coastal fields and filled the temple courtyards. It whispered against stained glass and prayer stones. But to Thalassia, it felt like the sea was wrapping her in a quiet promise.
She hadn't spoken of what happened that night.
Not to the attendants. Not to her father.
But the wave… had listened to her.
She knew it wasn't a dream.
On the third night, she was drawn once more to the water's edge. The storm had faded into mist. The air was damp and cold. She walked alone along the shoreline, the moon veiled by clouds.
Then she saw him.
A figure—kneeling at the far end of the rocky beach.
Clad in robes of deep green, marked by the ancient sigil of the sea, though faded and worn with age.
He held a long, polished trident—its metal inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the ends dulled from time but still intact.
He did not move.
"Sir?" Thalassia asked, voice barely above the wind.
The figure looked up.
His face was weathered but kind. His eyes, pale blue. As if touched by the same waters she had spoken to.
"Child of the tide," he said, bowing his head. "You have awakened what was long kept in silence."
"Do I know you?"
"Not yet," he said. "But I know your kind. I've stood beside your bloodline once before."
"Are you from the palace?"
"No," he said simply. "I am from the deep. From the first temple, before it sank. I was once called a guardian… in an age now forgotten."
Thalassia blinked. "You're one of the Vel'Asari?"
"I was," he said. "The sea called me back because your awakening has begun. I am here to guide you—and the ones who are meant to rise beside you."
She tilted her head. "Then why are you here?"
He knelt again, this time setting his trident gently into the sand.
"To guide you. To teach you. Until you and everyone are able to stand and protect yourselves."
A quiet pull grew in her chest—the same one she felt when the rain answered her.
"My name is Marion of the Deepwatch," he said. "I will walk with you until the tide reveals the one meant to walk for you."
Thalassia stood still. The sea behind her lapped gently. And something in her heart said yes.
Far away, in the whispering heart of Luneth, four other guardians felt the call begin to echo.
One had already begun to walk the shadows of Aetheria.
Another, deep in the forests of Zephyra, had not spoken in years—until now.
The children were awakening.
And their mentors were returning.