In the deep throne hall of Thalorine, where sea-glass pillars curved like coral tusks and bioluminescent orbs hovered in quiet grace, the water held its breath.
King Naerion Tideheart, robed in twilight blue and crowned with the antlered coral of his ancestors, paced slowly before the Throne Shell. His steps were calm, regal — but beneath his serenity, the current shifted anxiously.
Beside him, Queen Lysari Nerisse — Saeva en Velykarim, Mother of the Leviathan — stood still, her hands clasped before her. Her obsidian eyes, like polished onyx, stared into the viewing crystal floating in front of them.
Within its depths, the scrying waters showed two drifting figures — Aeyla, their daughter, and Ren, the surface warrior.
Together. Alone. Too close to the edge of the kingdom.
Too far from permission.
The Queen's lips parted softly.
"It's time."
Naerion turned. "You're certain?"
She gave a single nod. "I warned her. She crossed into forbidden trenches. And he—he's an anomaly."
Naerion exhaled, long and slow. "So you would send the very creature that once bowed to you… after your own daughter?"
Lysari's voice remained steady. "I do not question the sea's laws. If she defies them, she must face the same test I once did."
She raised her palm to the water and whispered the old tongue of bond and blood.
"Vel'kaar Naei… Siraeth e'Thal'Zirak."
The water darkened.
The throne hall dimmed.
And deep beneath Thalorine, where no light had touched for generations… something stirred.
Far away, among the shadowy trenches and glowing reef walls, Aeyla floated above the sea floor, her tail swaying gently as she pointed out a current path to Ren.
"Stay close to me," she said softly. "This area is layered in strong ley lines. If you drift too far, the sea might not let you back."
Ren hovered nearby, breathing steadily through the thin magic veil around his mouth. He was still getting used to the sensation — breathing water without drowning — but his trust in Aeyla anchored him.
He grinned. "You're saying the sea has a temper?"
She gave a ghost of a smile. "You've never met my mother."
Before she could say more, the water shifted.
The current reversed — not slowly, not gently, but as if the entire ocean had inhaled at once.
Fish vanished. Crabs buried themselves. Even the coral pulsed with alarm.
Aeyla's head whipped toward the deep.
"No," she breathed.
A sound — not a scream, not a growl, but a vibration — rang through the water like a pulse in her bones.
Ren turned to her. "What is that—?"
Her eyes widened. She grabbed his wrist, voice sharp.
"Ren, run."
Then the shadow came.
It didn't swim. It ascended, as if the trench floor itself had been hiding a god.
Thal'Zirak.
The Abyss Crowned, marked by scars from ancient battles, his scales vast plates of obsidian carved with forgotten runes. Each movement sent seismic waves through the sea. His eyes burned orange-white, like suns submerged.
And his presence tore the very logic of the water.
Ren's breath seized.
"I—what the hell is that?!"
Aeyla didn't answer.
Because she couldn't speak.
Because in the eyes of the sea's most feared beast… they were already caught.
Long before the crown ever touched her head, Lysari of Nerisse Reef had nothing.
She was not born to nobility. Her mother was a salt-weaver. Her father, long vanished into the tide. She grew up among the shallow coves and healing pools, tending to coral wounds and kelp fevers with her bare hands.
And yet, when Prince Naerion Tideheart — heir to the coral throne — chose her, the ocean court trembled in scandal.
The law was ancient.
A queen must not only be loved by the heir… she must be accepted by the sea itself.
For centuries, the royal line had followed one test:
Prove your soul by facing a Leviathan.
No one expected Lysari to try.
But she did not flinch.
She stood before the court, hair unbound, gaze calm, and said:
"Tell me where it sleeps. I will not return unless I earn the right."
The journey was silent.
She traveled alone through the deepward trench — where light dared not fall, where even whales kept distant. No blade. No shield.
Only her voice.
For three nights she descended through frozen layers of water and pressure until even her own breath stopped echoing.
And there, curled beneath a cradle of obsidian coral, slept Thal'Zirak.
The Leviathan.
The sea's ancient rage made flesh.
He was not awake, but he was aware.
When she approached, the water did not welcome her.
It bit her. Pressed against her. Screamed warnings in the form of crushing silence.
And still, Lysari sang.
Not with words. But with heart.
She weaved a melody into the current — one passed down by reef-singers and dream-divers. A song of grief. Of understanding.
A song not of dominance… but acceptance.
Thal'Zirak rose on the third day.
He opened his eyes and saw a woman who did not seek control — only connection.
He surged forward.
His jaw opened wide.
She closed her eyes… and knelt.
The ocean paused.
And Thal'Zirak stopped.
He circled her once. Twice.
Then slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head until his brow touched her shoulder.
The contract was made.
No chains.
No battle.
Only recognition.
When Lysari returned, the entire kingdom waited on the ridge.
Naerion stood at the front.
And behind her, the Leviathan emerged — trailing coral, surrounded by silence.
The court fell to their knees.
Naerion wept.
And the sea whispered a new name:
"Saeva en Velykarim."
"Mother of the Great Sea Dragon."
From that day on, her name was written into the ocean's stone — not as a queen of blood, but of bond.
The water in the lower prison chambers was always still. Still enough that it became a sound — a silence so deep, it could make a person forget they were alive.
Milo stared at the floating dust motes, legs crossed in a corner cell carved from dead coral. His trident — broken and dulled — leaned against the wall beside him. The blue runes on his wrist had long since stopped glowing.
He had once been called a knight.
Now he was called nothing.
When Queen Solane fell to assassins, Milo was the only one who stood between her and death.
He lost.
He took a blade to the leg that night — and lost it.
He took blame from every whisper in the court after.
He lost his name, his rank, his reason.
And finally, when no one looked for him… he jumped.
From the Edgewater Cliffs, he dove into the roar of the black waterfall that thundered outside Thalorine's border. Hoping it would end everything.
But the sea wasn't finished with him.
He awoke not on land.
But in the current — breathing.
Alive.
And… changed.
Where once had been his legs, now swayed a tail of deep azure scales laced with silver. His lungs drew in water as easily as air. His body had healed, stronger than before — but no longer human.
He had been remade by the ocean.
They told him the water chose who lived and died. That it must have wanted him.
But Milo didn't know why.
So he let himself be placed in the lower halls — a forgotten guard, a "survivor," a broken blade hidden beneath Thalorine's pride.
And then, tonight, the water shifted.
The pressure changed — not like a current, but like the ocean was listening.
Milo's gills fluttered.
He rose slowly from his cell floor.
And then he heard it.
A sound that no living mer had heard in over twenty years.
A voice deeper than a trench.
A Leviathan's roar.
Milo's eyes widened.
"Thal'Zirak."
He didn't know how he remembered the name. Maybe it had never left him.
He moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
The guard on rotation outside the corridor blinked. "Milo? What are—?"
Milo didn't answer.
A flick of his tail. A sharp jab to the pressure lock.
The door burst open. The guard flew back — stunned, not dead.
Milo surged through the stone halls, his hand trailing across the walls until he found it — his hidden cache.
Wrapped in barnacle cloth, untouched for years.
His weapons.
His armor.
And the symbol burned into coral beside them — a dragon-like eye.
He had saved Thal'Zirak once.
Not as a boy. Not as a warrior.
Just as a soul who stepped in when Mirevian soldiers tried to slaughter a fallen beast.
He remembered leaping over one of them, blades drawn, screaming as if it would make a difference.
It hadn't.
But Thal'Zirak lived.
And apparently… so did the memory.
Now the sea trembled again.
Not in fear.
But in awakening.
Milo strapped on his blades.
His eyes turned toward the deep.
"I'm coming, Aeyla. I'm coming, Ren."
The trench cracked.
A fissure of black stone split the reef like a wound, and from its center, Thal'Zirak surged forth — a monster of legend, draped in shadows and scale.
His head was broad as a tower base. Each fang longer than a man's arm. His breath churned the sea into madness.
And he wasn't hunting.
He was commanding.
Ren tried to move. "My leg—"
His boot was sunk deep into shifting sand, the seabed warped by the Leviathan's passage. He couldn't yank free.
Aeyla spun beside him, throwing her hands forward.
Magic rushed out of her — ribbons of swirling water, sharp-edged currents spinning like knives.
They struck Thal'Zirak's face…
And dissolved instantly.
The beast didn't even blink.
Aeyla's lips trembled. "He's… too strong. He's warping the water around us."
Ren gritted his teeth, pulling at the sand. "This thing really doesn't mess around—"
A thunderous growl broke from Thal'Zirak's throat.
He moved forward — slow, deliberate, like a god descending.
His gaze locked onto Ren.
The water trembled.
And then—
A flash cut through the sea.
Sparks danced through the trench.
And a voice shouted:
"HEY! Overgrown sea snake! You've got the wrong target!"
A blade slammed into Thal'Zirak's flank — not to wound, but to divert.
The Leviathan reared, spinning with a deafening growl.
Through the shadowed reef came a blur of silver-blue and steel.
Milo.
Armored. Alive. Eyes burning like stars.
His twin blades spun in wide arcs, cutting through the water like flame through silk. His mer-tail curved like a ribbon behind him, pulsing with speed and strength.
He struck again — this time near Thal'Zirak's eye.
A daring, stupid move.
But it worked.
The beast paused.
The glowing runes across its face pulsed… and then dimmed slightly.
A moment passed.
Recognition.
Thal'Zirak blinked.
"…You."
Milo hovered in the water, panting, blades steady.
"Yeah," he said softly. "We meet again."
The tension rippled through the ocean like thunder trying to decide if it wanted to fall.
Thal'Zirak lowered his head slightly. "You spared me. You stopped the spears."
Ren, still pinned in the sand, gaped. "Milo… what?!"
Milo gave him a wild grin. "Turns out good deeds do echo, huh?"
Aeyla stared in disbelief. "He remembers you?"
Milo slowly swam forward, no longer aggressive.
"I didn't do it for reward. I didn't even think you'd survive. But… here we are."
Thal'Zirak's eyes narrowed. "And this human?"
Milo looked back at Ren. "A good man. Brave. Loyal. He's trying to stop a war."
A momeThe sea pressure faded.
Ren yanked his leg free as the sand released him.
Milo swam over and offered a hand. "Need a lift?"
Ren took it. "You're a freaking mermaid."
Milo snorted. "Mer-man, thank you. Tail and all."
Aeyla was still frozen in shock.
But the trench… it was no longer a trap.
It was a path.
Thal'Zirak coiled his body around them like a sea wall. "Come. I will carry you to a safer place."
The three of them — warrior, mer-knight, and princess — rode through the coral maze, sheltered beneath a creature older than myth.
And behind them, far above, the sea began to stir with whispers:
"The Leviathan did not destroy. It protected."nt passed.
The Leviathan exhaled — a gust of warm, humming current.
"Then I will not harm him."
The sea pressure faded.
Ren yanked his leg free as the sand released him.
Milo swam over and offered a hand. "Need a lift?"
Ren took it. "You're a freaking mermaid."
Milo snorted. "Mer-man, thank you. Tail and all."
Aeyla was still frozen in shock.
But the trench… it was no longer a trap.
It was a path.
Thal'Zirak coiled his body around them like a sea wall. "Come. I will carry you to a safer place."
The three of them — warrior, mer-knight, and princess — rode through the coral maze, sheltered beneath a creature older than myth.
And behind them, far above, the sea began to stir with whispers:
"The Leviathan did not destroy. It protected."
The chaos faded behind them like the echo of a bad dream.
Thal'Zirak carried them to a hidden reef far beyond the trench — where currents were gentler, the water sang softer, and glowing bioluminescent plants shimmered in shades of silver and violet.
A natural dome of sea-stone curved overhead, covered in moon coral — a rare ocean growth that absorbed light from above and gave it back in waves of silver fire.
It was beautiful.
Still.
Safe.
The Leviathan circled the perimeter slowly, protecting the entrance without a word.
Inside the reef cave, Ren sat back on a wide coral shelf, water cradling him like a warm breath. His chest rose and fell slowly. For the first time in hours, he wasn't in danger.
Aeyla floated beside him, arms folded across her stomach, her lavender hair haloed around her face.
Neither of them spoke at first.
It was enough just to breathe.
Then…
Aeyla turned, her voice soft. "The sea doesn't grant safe passage freely."
Ren blinked. "I thought the giant sea monster giving us a ride kinda proved we earned that."
She smiled faintly. "Not quite. The Leviathan spared you, yes. But if you want to move through the deeper layers of Thalorine freely… the ocean still demands a sacrifice."
He leaned forward, brow raised. "A sacrifice?"
Aeyla nodded slowly. "It can be anything meaningful. A memory. A vow. A piece of your soul. Something real."
Ren stared at her for a moment… then grinned.
"Well, I was planning to lose my virginity for world peace."
Aeyla's eyes widened in horror. "REN!"
He burst into laughter. "Kidding! Kidding!"
Her tail flicked once, smacking him lightly. "Idiot."
But her cheeks flushed with color — even in the dim waterlight.
Ren quieted… and then drew something from the sheath on his back.
Two swords.
Twins.
One he set down beside himself.
The other… he held toward her.
Its hilt shimmered — silver-blue steel wrapped in deep leather. The blade was faintly curved, with etched runes that mirrored ocean tides.
"This blade," he said quietly, "is part of me. Its twin has been mine since I was a child. But they were always meant to be two."
She stared at it.
"If you take this," he continued, "you become part of my soul. Not as a lover. Not as a queen. As my sister in fate. My family — no matter what comes."
Silence filled the reef.
Aeyla reached out slowly.
Her fingers curled around the hilt.
And as she touched it — the blade glowed faintly.
Soft light pulsed down its runes.
Like it recognized her.
"I accept," she whispered. "Brother."
All around them, the water shimmered.
Tiny lights rose from the coral — as if the sea itself had been watching and now offered its approval.
Outside, Thal'Zirak raised his head.
Inside the ocean palace, deep in the royal hall, Queen Lysari blinked… as if someone had just whispered in her ear.
She turned to King Naerion, who stood beside her watching the viewing orb.
"Did you feel that?" she asked.
He nodded slowly.
"Yes," he said. "We have a new child."
Back in the reef, Aeyla let herself drift forward, wrapping her arms around Ren's shoulders. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers.
No words.
Just breath. And peace. And purpose.
In that moment, they weren't warrior and princess.
They were soul-bound.
And the sea had accepted them
The glow around them began to fade, leaving behind the soft hush of steady currents and moonlight coral.
Aeyla pulled away slowly from Ren, her fingertips still resting on his shoulders. Her voice had changed — steadier now, but quieter. She seemed older than before, as if what had just passed between them had shifted something inside her.
"Now the sea knows you," she said.
Ren looked down at his hands. His skin shimmered faintly — not visibly, not quite — but he felt it. The pressure on his lungs was gone. His movement no longer resisted. The water had… accepted him.
"I can breathe without your magic," he said slowly.
Aeyla nodded. "You've been marked. You're part of the deep now — not fully mer, but not fully surface either."
He lifted one brow. "Should I be worried?"
A soft smile. "You should be proud."
Outside the reef wall, Thal'Zirak let out a low, rumbling exhale — a sound like the tides themselves turning.
The great Leviathan's head eased into the reef cave's outer chamber. Even when calm, his form filled half the cavern like a living fortress.
"The sea has granted him passage," Thal'Zirak said. "And with that passage… comes truth."
Ren stood, brushing coral dust from his boots. "Truth?"
The Leviathan's gaze glowed softly.
"You seek the Second Mirror Gate. I know where it lies."
Aeyla turned sharply. "You do?"
"Long ago, before her rise, Elara came to the sea. Not to kneel — but to hide."
He coiled around a column of glowing bone coral.
"She built a fortress. Deep in the forest of Elaren, where illusion reigns. There, she cloaked the Second Gate — hidden not by stone, but by time."
Ren's heart pounded.
"So it exists."
"Yes," Thal'Zirak said. "And it must never open."
The silence stretched.
"Why?"
The Leviathan's voice was grave.
"Because what lies beyond it… is ruin."
Aeyla whispered, "What kind of magic could be so dangerous… that even the sea is afraid?"
Thal'Zirak turned to her, slowly.
"It is not magic. It is choice. The Gate does not just open a path… it offers power. But only at the cost of everything else."
He stared into Ren.
"If Elara finds it first… the war will not end. It will consume all realms."
Ren stepped forward, gripping the blade at his hip — the twin to Aeyla's.
"Then we stop her. Whatever it takes."
Thal'Zirak bowed his head slightly.
"I will carry you as far as the forest edge. After that… the maze is yours to solve."
Aeyla placed a hand on Ren's arm.
"You won't be alone."
He nodded.
But something heavy stirred behind his eyes.
He could feel it — in the echo of the ocean's pulse, in the stillness that lingered after the Leviathan's words.
This wasn't just about a gate.
This was about destiny.
And the storm wasn't waiting.
It was already rising.
Far above the hidden reef sanctuary, the coral towers of Thalorine shimmered in the late evening light.
Inside the Moonglass Observatory, Queen Lysari stood before a sphere of pure water — an orb of ocean-echo, which pulsed with ripples every time a Leviathan moved.
She narrowed her eyes as four separate vibrations rang through the glass.
Four. Not one.
King Naerion Tideheart, leaning on the pearl-stemmed trident of office, furrowed his brow. "Is that…?"
"Yes," Lysari said slowly, voice unreadable. "That's Thal'Zirak."
Naerion walked to her side. "And the others?"
A pause.
Then Lysari tilted her head with something caught between amusement and disbelief.
"Friends."
On the outer banks of Thalorine's second ward, water exploded as three more Leviathans breached the current — trailing Milo in wide circles like loyal beasts returning to an old pack.
Coral sentries scrambled atop watchtowers. Sirens were triggered. Sea knights formed shield walls as panic began to ripple through the capital like lightning.
Inside the throne hall, a royal commander dropped to one knee.
"Your Majesty — we summoned one. But now there are four Leviathans swimming beneath our dome. One of them is guarding your daughter!"
King Naerion blinked once.
Then turned slowly to his queen.
"…Did we approve of that?"
Lysari arched a brow. "We summoned Thal'Zirak to test her. But clearly, he brought friends."
Naerion glanced back at the orb, which now showed Milo drifting beside Aeyla
He frowned.
"That boy's everywhere."
Lysari's voice was cool, but a teasing glint danced in her eye. "Perhaps… he's trying to prove himself."
Naerion gave her a look.
"Oh, come on," she added, folding her arms. "You remember the rule. If one wishes to marry royalty… they must prove themselves to the sea."
Naerion groaned. "We agreed to one suitor trial per dynasty."
Lysari smiled.
"But he brought back Thal'Zirak. And now three more. That's more than I did."
Naerion pinched the bridge of his nose.
"So we're saying he wants to marry Aeyla?"
The Queen turned back to the orb, her eyes soft now.
"No," she whispered.
"...I think he wants to protect her."
The sky above the Warland Valley was bruised with the weight of gathering stormclouds.
Lightning danced in silent flashes, etching white scars across a crimson dusk. The wind carried the scent of fire, steel… and fate.
Upon the high cliff of Iveryn's war terrace, Queen Ivera stood in full regal armor, draped in silver and violet. The crystal tower behind her pulsed faintly — a heartbeat of light — as if the land itself awaited her command.
Below her, banners whipped in the storm winds.
An army had assembled.
Elysera, her daughter, stood at the front, clad in mirrorsteel, her auburn hair braided in warrior's fashion. The blade at her hip shimmered — no longer just a sword, but a symbol.
Beside her, stood the others:
— Nyx, armored in storm-forged plates, her blade sparking lightning with every step.
— Nirelle, hovering above the sand, her lavender hair braided back, eyes glowing with ocean-calling magic.
— Lira, cloaked in deep runes, tattoos glowing along her arms as her spell circles rotated like silent clocks.
Behind them, the Minority Kingdoms formed their own legions:
— Wind riders with falcon wings.
— Desert sand warriors riding six-legged beasts.
— Mountain archers mounted on dire rams.
— Crystal shieldmaidens from the Skyglass Clan.
All eyes turned forward.
The field stretched out into shadow.
And there… marching in perfect formation… came the enemy.
The Dravaryn Empire.
Black flame banners.
Spiked armor.
Crimson mages glowing with blood rituals.
Fire-knights atop scaled drakes.
Siege towers crawling like iron giants.
At their heart, a single throne was carried on dragonbone wheels.
Lord Varyn.
Cloaked in volcanic steel, horns rising from his helm like jagged spires. His voice was not heard — but his presence could be felt like heat from a forge.
He raised one hand.
A single gesture.
From the edge of the battlefield, a distant horn blew — long and slow.
It sounded like the groan of the world's end.
Then another.
From Iveryn's side.
Queen Ivera closed her eyes. Whispered something only the wind would hear.
Then… she lifted her hand.
The sky cracked.
The ground shook.
And the war began.
[End of Chapter 19]