Page 77 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

Most evenings, after dinner, Defymin and I slip past the others, heading to the small rooms carved into the training cavern. At first, I worried we would draw unwanted attention, but most finlings barely glance our way anymore. The routine is familiar now, no longer questioned.

On that very first night, Defymin had explained it away with ease, using Orion as his shield.

“His majesty ordered it,” he told them simply, voice clipped with authority. “Extra training sessions for the human wannabe.”

The words stung, though not from him. He only repeated what others already whispered. Some finlings keep their respect in check, but others can’t quite hide their disdain at having a human woven into their private, disciplined world.

Our training group for Current Two is composed of many different finlings. Some scrawny and thin, others thick with muscles so big you wonder how they got that way when the underwater pressure is so crushing. I tend to ignore most of their comments or stares. However, Carella—a finling in the top of our group—confronts me just about every evening at meal time.

Between bites of my food, I steal quick glimpses of her from behind Keil, watching her intently, waiting for her to swim toward us. It has become routine at this point.

Aniah's been discussing the new spear she was given after her last one broke—apparently a sign of her ever-growing strength. I silently congratulate her, but my eyes remain on Carella.

Her squad of friends consist of finlings in a different group training for Current Two. Their names were never spoken to us, but they accompany her any chance they get.

“Heads up, Carella and her squad of sidekicks are headed this way.” Defymin’s eyes are locked on them too.

Carella’s voice rings out through the dining hall, turning many heads as they search for the cause of commotion.

“Oh look, the group of misfits and their human wannabe,” she hisses. She floats at the end of our sea-stone table, and though her words are meant for all of us, her glare never leaves mine.

“Carella, go away. Your taunts are losing their sting. We have grown to adore your attention.” Defymin chuckles slightly at his comment, thinking that will help the situation. I know it will only make it worse.

Her eyes shoot to Defymin, a growl escaping her lips, “You best learn to quiet that mouth of yours. Duels are quickly approaching and I cannot wait to destroy you during them. Show you what true power looks like.”

Aniah snickers at her comment. “Honestly, you would not know true power if it hit you in the face.”

“You three are a disgrace to the Neravyn name.” Carella spits, surveying our group, narrowing her eyes at us. “Why associate yourselves with a human wannabe?”

I hate that she asked that question, but it’s a valid one. I don’t feel as though I’ve earned these friends, if that is what I can call them. Maybe just companions? Or teammates?

“It's not so much associating ourselves as it is—” Keil interjects before Defymin can speak.

“—we trust the king’s judgement,” The twins say in unison.

“And you should too,” Aniah says, finishing the thought.

Carella sneers at their comment. “The king is barely present to watch his pet in action, so can you truly trust his judgement?” She turns her body with her hips, jetting out of the dining hall, her squad of sidekicks following close behind.

“I appreciate you two standing up to her for me.” The words feel surreal as they come out of my mouth. I've never needed to thank anyone for doing something like that for me.

The twins watch me intently in silence for a few moments before Keil speaks up. “Look, the king is still new to being in charge, but when we start to doubt him, that is when things will fall. We trusted his father and he never failed us. Why should we not assume that King Thaldrin taught his son how to properly care for his kingdom and subjects? That includes if he thinks you are trustworthy enough to let you this deep into our barriers.”

Wow. That rewires my conception of them completely. A prickle races up my scalp as something in me goes on edge.

I had wondered if they truly trusted me or if it was something else. Though, whether they trust me or not, they chose to associate themselves with me rather than fall in with Carella’s crowd. So it’s not as bad as it could be.

“Keep in mind, Sarah, just because we choose to trust the king’s choice, doesn't mean we don't trust you. You've proven yourself several times already,” Aniah starts. “I mean you're a human who gained magical powers, survived the swim to Virellan, completed Current One, and now halfway done with Current Two and you don't appear to be slowing down. Those that are not fond of you come from the aspect of change. This kingdom has done the same things for centuries. You are new. You are a sign that the king is adapting to the situation. That frightens some of the kingdom; those not ready for improvement in Virellan.”

So they do trust me; it’s not just an obligation keeping them at my side. It’s something steadier, something chosen. The tightness in my chest eases, if only a little. The thought lingers as the dining hall slowly settles back into its usual rhythm, the tension from Carella’s outburst fading into the background. It doesn’t change everything, but it shifts enough to quiet the edge that’s been following me whenever Carella is around.

Tonight’s secret training feels more important than the rest. Tomorrow marks our first duel with our peers. A tradition Lord Zevrin said will continue weekly for the next month, sharpening us for the final challenge. Unlike the last Current, these duels allow magic.

Magic lessons have consumed every other day, from breakfast until long past the sea’s last light. No new powers have surfaced, which has left Orion impatient and tense. He insists on trying a new tactic first thing tomorrow, before the duels start. Am I nervous? Absolutely.

To prepare, Defymin and I asked Aniah and Keil to join tonight’s secret training session. They too confessed their nerves about tomorrow. Defymin pairs off with Keil, while Aniah and I hover to the side, observing.

Keil darts aside, evading Defymin’s strike, then angles behind him with a slash at his already-injured fin. Our weapons are dulled, practice-only, but the sting is real enough. Every hit reminds us how dangerous mistakes can be, forcing us to adjust, rethink, and counter.