Jun’s hand drifted through Calvin’s hair, gaze lingering on the pale silence of a face too still for comfort. When the trapdoor clicked in place, he met my distraught gaze.
“Is he getting any better?” I asked in a timid whisper.
Jun nodded. “Slowly, but I’m drained. I tried to heal more, but I can’t.”
I kneeled on the floor before the two men.
“Can Noctis help again? Is he able to fuel your power?”
Jun shook his head slightly. “He’s drained, too. I felt it. Gave all he had for him.”
“I’ve never seen flame the—”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about,” Jun interrupted, clipping his words short like always. A tightness clung to his shoulders, his hands fidgeting with his already perfectly folded sleeves. “I’m… sorry.”
“Sorry? You saved our asses. What could you possibly be sorry about?”
He hesitated, his eyes shifting to the wall.
“You… you don’t understand, do you? I wasn’t born with powers.” His throat bobbed with a hard swallow he couldn’t quite hide, searching for the words to continue. “My father gave them to me. Took them from your kind. Twisted them. Made me into something else.” His words tripped on each other, repeating certain syllables.
Jun was good in his quiet, determined way—draining himself to save the one he loved. There was nothing evil in him, except for the memories that surely haunted his dreams like my own.
“Jun…” He held his hand up to stop me.
"I spent years helping them." He paused. "Years pouring into the stone that ripped the magic from the merfolk bodies. Years of killing..." He hesitated, eyes skittering away. "Killing your people. My power does not belong to me, and every time I use it, it tears a piece from my soul.” He cupped his face in his palms. “I don’t even know who I am after yesterday. You… should hate me.”
I hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder, unsure if the touch would be accepted. “I don’t hate you. Nor do I blame you for what you were forced to do.”
“That’s the thing. At first, I wasn’t forced.” His devastated eyes met mine. “I had no clue what they were doing until I was caught in the restricted area.” He removed his hood, revealing the scar that ran across the top of his head from ear-to-ear. Jagged edges traced the raised white imprint as if ripped apart by claws. Along a strip where his straight black hair should have grown, only pale scar tissue remained. Mutilated.
My jaw set tighter with each passing second as my eyes trailed it.
“They almost killed me,” he whispered, concealing the evidence of abuse with the cloak.
I empathized with him, living a similar beginning of life as he—used for nothing more than the magic and abilities that festered beneath the skin. But watching his pain amplified my rage. Something inside me cracked under the pressure of holding it all in.
“How do they pull the magic and use it?”
He shook his head violently. “I can’t. I can’t explain it.” His deep voice cracked. “It’s brutal. I’ve been beaten near death so many times, but what they do in those chambers…”
I couldn’t press him for answers, the fear in his expression and words tearing bits of my heart out.
“Let’s make sure they remember why they should’ve killed us when they had the chance,” I replied, meaning every word with a compassionate grin.
Jun’s lips slightly rose, trembling as he forced himself to smile back.
Wood cracked and groaned, the ship jolting sideways. My body shot into the air, head smashing with the cot beside me. Blood trickled down my face as I blinked away the dizziness, my mind spinning from the impact.
Jun held firm to the unconscious Calvin, ensuring he wasn’t jostled in his condition. My bewildered eyes met his.
“What’s—”
“I can’t leave him…” Jun begged, and I understood. If danger existed outside, he would rather die with Calvin than abandon him.
I nodded quickly and clumsily stormed out of the map room, sprinting to the main deck to find Zahara and Noctis. They stared perplexed over the harbor and into the markets and villages beyond. Water raged around as the ground convulsed as if being cleaved apart.
Three Oricaans tore through the streets like a living, breathing siege tower, its gilded iron limbs pulverizing stone and shattering carts beneath its colossal weight. Walls crumbled in its path, glass exploding outward, and the ground shook with every thunderous step north of the villages. Screams and the sound of crumpling steel filled the air like a war anthem. Sparks rained from their joints as they barreled forward, tearing roofs from buildings and stomping carriages into twisted scrap.
