Page 90 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

By mid-sea day, we decide it's best not to drain all our energy practicing. My comrades spend the remainder of the day getting food in the dining hall. I’m not hungry, so I chose to stay here in the arena and sort through some of my thoughts.

I lie comfortably on the ocean floor, my tail relaxing into full length, as I enter my subconscious and sit on my old vintage bed where all my thoughts lay out before me. Not much gets completed before I'm interrupted by the loud thud of the arena’s gate.

I scramble quickly out of my relaxed position, my tail doing most of the work to raise my upper body.

“What the fuck, Orion?” I blurt. “Do you understand the meaning of personal space?”

He glides in, hands behind his back, resting on the upper portion of his tail as he saunters toward me. “In fact, I do. I just have a hard time giving it when every instinct tells me to keep you close.”

I ignore his truth. I know why he says that. My mind betrays me with a fleeting memory of his lips claiming mine, and I force the thought away before it can take root. The bond tugs on my heart and mind, too, but I don’t believe it should be my number one priority. And something about the way he currently presents himself makes me believe that he has forgotten what that priority is.

“I have a battle to prepare for, if you don’t mind,” I say curtly, as I turn away sharply, swimming toward the exit.

The audience’s roar vibrates through the trench, a deep hum that seeps into my chest even from behind the gate. The obsidian walls rise around us, carrying and twisting every shout as it echoes through the water. Hundreds of sea folk fill the tiered seating above, their voices merging into an indecipherable chorus of anticipation and hunger.

We wait in the shadow of the tunnel, the water unnervingly still around us. Any moment, Orion’s voice will boom across the arena, the gates will rise open, and the unknown creature will emerge, but I’m trapped in the memory of his last words, the only sound louder than the crowd.

Orion’s voice reverberates just as strongly as the audience’s, and the crowd falls silent. “Today, our finest finlings are called to meet what they have trained for,” he announces, his authority sweeping across the arena. “This creature was selected for its ferocity and unyielding nature—a proving ground of both skill and nerve. Among these finlings is my guest of honor, Sarah, who remains above the rest. They will not leave this arena unchanged.”

I hear his words echo through the obsidian walls, my chest tightening as the weight of the announcement settles over us. I glance at each of my teammates, noting the quiet nervousness mirrored in their expressions.

Defymin’s voice cuts through the tension. “Are you ready to obliterate this thing?”

I dip my head, sending him a glare filled with determination. He doesn’t understand the burden behind it. I’ve made it my mission to prove I belong here, but a flicker of doubt lingers. This world feels alien, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m here only because of my own mistake, summoned by a king who seems unable to stay away.

The gates rise, and we swim into the arena. We spread out, forming a straight line, side by side. The gate behind us thuds closed, a final seal, while the one in front swings open.

A tense silence hangs for a heartbeat, as the creature bursts from the gateway, charging straight at us. My jaw drops instinctively, disbelief rooting me in place.

Keil screams above the roars from the creature. “Swim! It’s a Mordyth!”

thirty-six

Sarah

The battle is triggered by the sound of a horn, and I’m frozen in place. I don’t dare glance in Orion’s direction. The creature facing us is fierce. Wild. Hungry. But it isn’t its presence that roots me to the spot. I'm equally terrified and mesmerized, for the creature before me is thought to be extinct.

A Dunkleosteus. No, a Mordyth.

Its massive body is sheathed in jagged plates of dark, metallic armor, each segment etched with faint scars of battles long forgotten. A gaping maw, framed by blade-like jaws, catches the marilume from the trench ceiling, glinting sharply. Eyes like molten onyx burn with a cunning intelligence, and its tail, thick and powerful, sweeps through the water with the precision of a predator honed over eons. Even the faintest ripple from its movement sends shivers through the surrounding currents, as though the ocean itself fears this ancient hunter.

Suddenly, the Mordyth lunges toward Aniah, jaws snapping open as if it means to swallow her whole. Her screams slice through the water as she bolts toward me, flailing to escape the beast’s lethal bite. The motion shatters the barriers I've built around my thoughts, and I lock the entrance shut just before the creature reaches us. With a surge of force, I hurl a heavy stream of water straight into the Mordyth’s face, halting its deadly charge and giving Aniah the chance to dive behind me.

Keil and Defymin charge toward the creature, closing the distance as they hurl their spears at its armored body. The weapons clang harmlessly against the dark plates and fall silently to the arena floor. Aniah and I dive to the side, weaving through the currents to reach our teammates just as the Mordyth regains its senses.

It surges forward again, twisting and turning as it searches for us, eyes gleaming with predatory intelligence.

“It can’t be attacked anywhere except its underside! The plates cover almost everything else!” I scream, projecting my voice across the water. Adrenaline surges through me as I try to give any guidance I can. I’ve never faced a living Mordyth before—my assumptions from college lectures had told me it was extinct—but now that theory has been shattered.

I rely on every scrap of knowledge I once studied, trying to piece together a strategy that might let us survive this battle.

Defymin dives alone, retrieving the fallen spears and making his way back to the metal dome above us, while Keil keeps a watchful eye on the Mordyth. Aniah and I dart away from the beast, weaving through the currents as it surges with terrifying speed. Its massive form slices through the water like a living torpedo, just as I had learned in the vertebrae lesson during micropaleontology.

Its tail lashes through the currents effortlessly, careening straight for me. I twist and weave, tail coiling gracefully as I dip and dart in intricate patterns, keeping my teammates safely out of harm’s way. Keil slips underneath the creature, scraping his spear along the vulnerable underside with precise, calculated strikes.

An ear-splitting howl rips through the water, and a thin streak of red seeps slowly into the currents. Before the creature can fully recover, Aniah seizes the moment, striking at the front underside and tearing open another gash. The Mordyth slows, struggling to regain its deadly composure.

My attention is locked on my teammates’ attacks, and I fail to notice it racing toward me. Pain explodes through my tail as jagged jaws clamp down, ripping along the edges, straight through to the other side. I scream and wrench free, blood streaming and small chunks of torn scales floating in the water.