Like colliding with a swarm of man o’ wars.
I drifted there, stunned and reeling, while the Veil shimmered in the distance.
I clenched my fists, fury bubbling alongside determination.You think this will stop me?Not that it could hear me.
I tried again. And again.
Each attempt ended the same: pain, exhaustion, failure. My body ached, but my resolve only hardened. Doubt whispered at the edges, and I shoved it down.
No pain. No barrier. Nothing would keep me from the answers beyond the Veil.
At last, as storm clouds thickened above and the ocean darkened, something shifted.
A vibration bloomed in my chest, resonant with the ocean’s pulse. My crescent burned white-hot, and the power inside me surged—raw and unrestrained. Unlike the fleeting flickers I’d known, this was consuming. Terrifying. Intoxicating.
It didn’t just move through me.
It became me—until I couldn’t tell where I ended and it began.
This time, when I swam for the Veil, I didn’t hesitate. I poured everything into the strike, vision blurring as the shimmering barrier rushed toward me.
The Veil resisted, its magic crackling through the water like lightning trapped in glass. Threads of silver and violet shimmered in the current—starlight swallowed by the sea. Pressure built, humming against my bones, ancient and alive.
But I pressed harder.
My mark flared, pulsing in rhythm with the storm—one heartbeat, two—and the Veil began to splinter.
Then, with a sound like a thousand stars shattering, I broke through.
The crossing was agony and freedom braided together. The ocean on the other side felt different—wilder, colder, untouched by Thalassia’s laws. I grinned through clenched teeth.
This is what I wanted.
A fight.
Let’s see who wins.
The biting chill seeped into my skin, sapping strength with every stroke. The currents twisted erratically—almost sentient—as though the sea itself was testing my presence. A low, otherworldly hum resonated through the water, vibrating against my chest.
I felt exposed. Watched.
Every ripple seemed charged with unfamiliar energy. This ocean was alive in a way Thalassian waters could never be.
Nobody leaves Thalassia. If Meris or the Tidekeepers sensed what I’d done, they’d stop at nothing to drag me back. The Veil’s disturbance wouldn’t go unnoticed.
I swam upward, heart still pounding. My muscles ached, seized by cold that clung like kelp. Each stroke dragged, sluggish with exhaustion and the lingering sting of magic. Salt burned my eyes. Pressure gripped my chest even as I rose. Faint bioluminescent trails spun behind me.
Above, lightning flickered through the storm sky. Every motion forward was defiance.
Now I needed to choose where to go—quickly. The sea stretched around me, endless and unknowable, every direction swallowed by uncertainty. There was no map for what came next, no prophecy etched in coral to guide me.
Still, I felt it: something shifting. The ocean brimming with anticipation, waiting to see what I would do.
When I surfaced, the air was foreign. Dangerous. A world we weren’t meant for. But I needed to see it—if only for a moment. Curiosity pressed hard against the caution I’d been taught.
The storm seized me. Wind and wave tore at my fins, spinning me until the water became darkness and foam. I couldn’t tell which way was up. I fought the pull of the waves, desperate for a glimpse of the sky as the storm roared like an untamed beast.
Then I saw movement in the chaos. No coral-carved hull. No familiar glow. Not Thalassian.
