Serakh’s voice pulled him from the memory. “Breathe, you fool. Her heart still beats.”
Tail flexing, Nyx twisted in the heart of his kingdom—a seat of power he would happily return to barren rubble, if Kore was taken from him. “Thalos is trying to kill her before the Gauntlet even begins. He pushed more venom into her veins in one breath than I have yet spilled.”
Again, Sera shrugged. “Then he failed,” she replied, her voice dry.
Nyx hesitated, and then, "I didn’t expect him to call the Spiral," he admitted, voice low and rough. "Not for a Siren. Not after the Accord."
For a moment, Sera's expression softened—a rare sight that vanished as quickly as it appeared. "The Hollow Court fears what she represents. A Siren threatens everything they've built." Sera paused, then. Hesitating as she spread her spines and let the current drag her out of his reach. And then, "Thalos will win the Gauntlet."
Nyx's gills flared with controlled rage. "He will not?—"
"Hewill," she stressed, her biolume pulsing bright and certain. Overpowering his denial. "If you continue with temper instead of strategy, you will lose your bride and condemn all Abyssari to death."
For a moment, Nyxarion watched her. And then, sending a breath through his gills, he flattened his spines. And nodded. Listening to her counsel.
"The Thalassari have undeniable advantage," Sera hummed. "The Gauntlet of Tides is designed for them, by them. As this is a dispute between sovereigns, you will be permitted to wield a weapon of your choosing?—"
"The Trident will lift the Deep," Nyxarion snarled, sweeping his arm wide.
In response, his fledgling reef pulsed. Lighting up the cradle where the trident was buried in silt, as if slavering for the taste of carnage.
"And you will lose," Sera bit back. "Thalos will undoubtedly carry Cymareth. He will carve through the Gauntlet like it's nothing but open water," Sera continued, her silver eyes narrowed. "The Waveblade is all but weightless in his hands. A perfect extension of his will."
Nyxarion's tail lashed the water, sending ripples through the living reef around them. "The Trident is my birthright, Sera. My strength, and Cymareth’s equal."
"And it will doom you," Sera snapped. "If you drag the Trident through the Gauntlet, you will watch Thalos breed your bride after you've lost the first trial, drowned by your own arrogance."
Rage twisted Nyxarion's features, but beneath it—a flicker of fear. The thought of Kore beneath Thalos, her body taking another sovereign's seed... His claws scored deep grooves into his palms.
"You know I speak truth," Sera pressed. "The Gauntlet favors speed and agility. Everything the Thalassari cultivate. And yes," she hissed, "Cymareth is no better than the trident. They are different weapons. But in a contest of speed? The trident is an anchor. Anything gained in wielding it is lost in carrying it."
Nyxarion stilled, his gills pulsing with controlled fury. He circled the perimeter of the chamber, muscles bunched beneath midnight scales.
"The shallows breed grace and speed," Sera said, following his movement with careful eyes. "But the deep breeds power. Raw, unfiltered power."
His resonance hummed through the water, making the coral tremble. "I am stronger than he could ever be."
"Yes. But even without the Trident weighing you down, even surrendering the advantage over currents it gives you," Sera's voice dropped lower, "Thalos is incredibly fast. And only one trial of three is suited to Abyssari might.”
The admission hung between them. Blood in the water.
"You've seen him move," she continued. "The way he slips through currents without a ripple."
Nyxarion's jaw worked as he considered her words. The possibility that he might lose the Gauntlet was very, very real. He'd seen Thalassari champions slice through tide races that drowned Abyssari warriors.
But Thalos was not merely Thalassari—he was their sovereign.
"If I lose the first trial," he said, voice rough with suppressed fury, "Thalos claims her for one tide."
Sera nodded once, her expression grim. "And if you fight the Gauntlet with pure strength instead of strategy, hewill.”
"You expect me to watch Thalos breed her and do nothing?" Nyxarion's voice dropped to a dangerous rumble, the water around him vibrating with barely contained violence. His tail lashed, sending smaller coral formations trembling in his wake.
Sera's expression shifted—the hint of a smile curving her lips. Not a gesture of comfort, but of calculation.
"No," Sera said, and that smile grew teeth. "You'll watch him try."
Nyxarion turned to face her, then. Massive bulk coiled, and rigid as he cast a shadow across Sera’s face.
