Kialan
The boat sliced through the sea like a blade, but the deeper we ventured, the more unnatural everything began to feel. The sky had dimmed to a strange silver hue, and the waves no longer rolled—they just… shifted, like something was breathing beneath them.
It wasn't until we were halfway to Businish Island that I realized something was wrong.
My parents weren't with me.
I looked around—no familiar faces. Just the boatman, silent and focused, and a weight in the air that grew heavier with each breath. The hairs on the back of my neck rose. My senses—trained, though still young—screamed now.
Something was coming.
Before I could even call out, the sea exploded behind me.
A massive, scaled creature burst from the water—twice the size of the boat, its body glistening like oil under the silver sky. I barely turned before it struck, knocking me to the deck.
Panic surged—but instinct was faster.
I rolled aside, grabbing the nearest pole and using it to push myself up. My body remembered the training—every sparring session, every lesson drilled into me. But this was no practice dummy. This was survival.
"Mom!" I shouted. "Dad!"
No answer. Just the roar of the sea and the creature lunging again.
Its eyes—if they were eyes—were pits of black, bottomless and ancient. I didn't recognize it. No stories from our bloodline ever mentioned a sea beast like this.
I struck at it with everything I had—my strength, my mind, my fear. But it was relentless, its movements unnatural and swift for something its size. I dodged again, barely escaping the snapping jaws.
"Mom!" I cried, voice cracking. "Dad!"
Still nothing. I was alone.
I gritted my teeth and steadied myself.
I had to survive.
I'm a Domus Hustharic. My blood carries centuries of strength, legacy, and resilience. I may be young, but I carry them all. I will survive.
I'll find my parents—I don't know where they are or why this is happening, but I'll make it out of this alive.
With that thought burning through me, I launched myself at the creature again.
I fought with everything I had—my strength, my training, every memory carved into me since childhood. But still… I was only a boy. And this beast—this sea-born monster—was stronger, heavier, faster. Its tail slammed into the side of the boat. I barely managed to stay upright.
My muscles screamed. My lungs burned. But I didn't stop.
Then, in a moment of raw instinct and desperation, I spotted an opening. I surged forward with a yell, channeling every ounce of fury and fear into one final move.
I struck.
A single blow to the beast's chest—just enough to stagger it—then, with trembling hands, I drew my sword and drove it through the creature's heart.
The moment the blade sank in, the world shifted.
The sea went silent.
The air stilled.
And everything—
—went black.
---
I floated in darkness.
Not water, not air—just weightless nothingness. My body didn't exist, but my mind... it still screamed. Somewhere in the void, I heard her.
"Kialan... Kialan..."
My mother's voice.
Faint at first. Then closer. Then suddenly far again, as if she were calling from every direction at once.
"Mom?" I called out. "I'm here! I'm right here!"
But the voice moved again, whispering now from behind, then above, then beneath. It was impossible to follow. Every time I reached for the sound, it slipped away like smoke between fingers.
My chest tightened. I couldn't breathe. My limbs felt like stone.
"Mom!" I screamed. "Where are you?!"
Nothing but shifting echoes.
Then—
Something brushed my leg.
I flinched. But it wasn't a claw or a tentacle. It was soft. Gentle. Something... alive.
A tiny tree.
Its stem no higher than my shin, glowing faintly in the dark. Its leaves shimmered like dew caught in sunlight. It touched me again—this time more intentionally—wrapping a slender root around my ankle like a guiding hand.
Then it began to move, and I followed.
Step by step, the tree pulled me through the endless night. Around us, the air warmed. I could hear my mother's voice again—clearer now. More focused. More real.
"Kialan, my dear... wake up. Come back. You're safe."
The tree stopped, and its leaves rustled gently. It tilted upward, as if looking at me.
The darkness peeled away like fog in the sun. My lungs filled. My eyes burned.
Then I gasped—
And woke up to my mother's weeping voice.
"Kialan... Kialan... my dear."
---
I blinked fast. The ceiling above me wasn't sky or sea, but a carved wooden dome painted with glowing emblems. Torches flickered on the walls. I was lying on a thick mat, surrounded by people.
A mansion—or maybe something older. Sacred.
And there—
"Mom?" I croaked.
She rushed forward, arms open, eyes wet with relief. My father stood behind her, proud but quiet.
"What happened?" I rasped. "You all just vanished. I couldn't see—couldn't hear—and the beast—"
I clung to her, shaking. My father joined us, wrapping his arms around both of us.
"It was so real," I whispered. "I thought I was going to die."
"You didn't," she murmured. "You survived, Kialan. You did it."
But the weight of her words didn't comfort me.
I pulled back slightly, searching her face.
"Did what?"
She hesitated, glancing toward my father.
Then he sighed.
"You passed the Trial."
I stared at him. "Trial?"
He nodded. "Every young warrior who comes to this island undergoes it. It's tradition. I didn't want to put you through it, not like that... but your mother insisted. She passed it herself."
"A trial?" I echoed, voice rising. "That wasn't a test. That was terror. I thought I lost you both! I was screaming for you! Fighting to live. And you were just—what? Watching?!"
My father's face tightened. My mother looked down, guilt flickering in her eyes.
"It was never meant to traumatize you," she said quietly. "The trial draws from your fears. It feels real because... it is, in a way. But we were here, waiting. The moment you overcame it—"
"I killed that thing," I said. "I felt it die."
"And that strength is real," my father replied, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. "It came from you. That's what the Trial reveals—not illusions, but truths you didn't know you carried."
I looked away, my thoughts a whirl of pain and pride and uncertainty. I didn't know whether to scream or collapse.
That's when I noticed—we weren't alone.
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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