Another soldier nodded vigorously."And cold.Not like normal fog.This felt...wrong.Like it was pulling the warmth from inside you."
"We'd heard the rumors," Ragnor continued, reclaiming the story."Coastal villages disappearing, strange shadows in the water.But rumors are plentiful in wartime, and we had our orders to hold the peninsula against Warden incursion."His mouth twisted in a bitter smile."We were watching for the wrong enemy."
He reached for a stick and prodded the fire, sending a shower of sparks spiraling into the night."It began at the foundations.Our sentries reported a disturbance in the water around the seaward side of the fortress—the ocean had turned black as pitch, and it was… writhing."
Roran's pulse quickened.The description matched what he’d witnessed aboard the fortress-whale, his first and only encounter with the Deep Tide.
"The stone began to...dissolve," Ragnor continued, his voice dropping to near a whisper, forcing Roran to lean closer."Not crumble, not break.Dissolve.Like salt in water.One moment solid rock, the next...nothing.The blackness seemed to eat the very foundation of the fortress, working its way upward as if it were alive, hungry."
The captain's hands trembled slightly as he set down the stick."We sounded the alarm, began evacuation procedures.Standard protocol for structural compromise.But this was no ordinary breach."His single eye fixed on Roran, pupils dilated with remembered terror."The darkness moved faster than we could retreat.The entire seaward wall simply...vanished, taking twenty of my men with it."
A heavy silence fell over the gathering.Several soldiers stared into the fire, deliberately avoiding Roran's gaze.Others crossed their arms or hunched their shoulders, as if trying to make themselves smaller against the memory.
"And then they came," whispered a young soldier, his face made older by fear."Out of the black water.Shapes without form.Shadows with...with tentacles, or arms, or—" He broke off, shaking his head."I don't have words for what they were."
"They weren't creatures as we understand them," Ragnor said, his voice steadier now, as if the act of describing the horror had somehow distanced him from it."They had no fixed shape, no discernible anatomy.Just absence given form.Void with purpose."
The description sent ice down Roran's spine.He had witnessed the Deep Tide at sea, and Cassia had described them as entities confined to water.He had heard no tales of Deep Ones leaving the ocean to traverse the land.
"They pursued us," Ragnor continued."Up from the water, across stone and earth.They moved like...like spilled ink across parchment, flowing rather than walking.Where they touched, things ceased to be."He extended his hand, revealing a missing ring finger."Lost this when one of them brushed my hand as I helped a recruit over a fallen timber."
Roran stared at the truncated digit, understanding dawning with terrible clarity."It’s not just one entity, or a plague," he murmured, more to himself than to the gathered soldiers.“They’re… they’rebeings.And they can leave the water.”
Ragnor's eye snapped to his face."You know of these things?"
Roran nodded slowly."We've had reports.From the Southern coasts, from the archipelago.But all accounts suggested they were bound to the ocean, following underwater channels."He opted not to mention his encounter with the Deep Tide in the archipelago; it likely wouldn’t win him any favor with these Northerners.
"They prefer water," the captain said with grim certainty."But they aren't confined to it.We saw them retreat back to the ocean once we reached higher ground, but they are fully capable of pursuing prey on land."
Prey.The word hung in the air, stark and damning.Not enemies to be fought, but prey to be hunted.Roran felt a crawling sensation along his skin, a primal recognition of humanity's new place in the natural order.
"How many of you escaped?"he asked, surveying the camp with new eyes, counting tents, estimating numbers.
"Initially, twenty-three," Ragnor replied."Out of a garrison of one hundred and twenty.And we’ve lost five more men to that darkness between the first attack and now."
Roran absorbed this information, the implications multiplying in his mind like ripples from a stone cast into still water.The Deep Tide wasn't merely consuming coastal settlements—it was actively hunting survivors.And it could leave the water to do so.
"You need to return to Frostforge," he said, leaning forward, urgency threading through his voice."Your testimony, your experience—the Council needs to hear it directly.They're still debating strategy, still torn between evacuation and defense."
A bitter laugh escaped the captain's throat."There is no defense against this enemy, boy.No wall high enough, no weapon sharp enough."
"There might be," Roran insisted, thinking of Thalia's experiments with ice-glacenite, of the Wardens' storm magic."But we need every piece of information, every observation.Your firsthand account could make the difference."
Captain Ragnor exchanged glances with his lieutenants, silent communication passing between them.Finally, he shook his head."My duty is to these men now.We've found defensive ground here—high, dry, with clear sightlines in all directions.We'll make our stand if the darkness comes again."
Roran surveyed the camp once more, seeing it now for what it truly was—not a temporary refuge, but a last redoubt.These men had chosen their place to die.
"Then send messengers," he urged."Warn the inland settlements, the mountain passes.People need to know what's coming, what to watch for."
The captain considered this, stroking his beard thoughtfully.After a moment, he nodded toward three of the younger soldiers."Hald, Jorgen, Varic.You'll carry warnings to the nearest settlements.Follow the ridge paths, stay away from waterways."His gaze returned to Roran."The rest of us remain here.Honor demands we hold this position."
The three named soldiers nodded, though their expressions betrayed a mixture of relief and guilt at being selected to leave.Roran recognized the captain's mercy disguised as duty—giving the youngest a chance to flee while maintaining the fiction of military purpose.
"I should continue north," Roran said, rising to his feet."There are other outposts I need to check, other reports to confirm."
Ragnor nodded, standing as well."Travel by daylight only.Keep to high ground.And whatever you do, stay away from water—even streams and ponds.The darkness finds pathways we can't see, follows currents beneath the earth."
The advice sent another chill through Roran.He thought of Frostforge, built atop the confluence of mountain streams, the fjord stretching below its walls.If water was the Deep Tide's highway, the academy stood at a crossroads.
