Night fell thick and silent.
Too silent.
The jungle around the Skotos village had always hummed with life—buzzing insects, howling birds, the distant rush of the waterfall. But now? Only the wind moved. Even the trees seemed to hold their breath.
Tavin stood outside the elder hall, fingers brushing his left arm. The brand shimmered gently in the moonlight, responding to a pressure he couldn't name.
"I don't like this," he muttered.
Niah stepped beside him, arms folded. Her ghost flame flickered at her fingertips, soft and blue.
"I feel it too," she said. "Something in the water veins. Watching."
Kaelara approached a moment later, her steps quieter than usual. She'd discarded her chest wrap and now wore only a black combat vest and skirt, her body slick with oil and dust.
"Scouts spotted a ripple near the lower well," she said. "No footprints. No sound. Just steam… and empty air."
Tavin frowned. "Could it be animals?"
Kaelara shook her head. "No animal melts the stone it touches."
The Arrival:
The village well was a simple thing—a sunken basin lined with obsidian. But now, steam curled up from it like a serpent. The ground around it was soaked. The grass gone.
Tavin knelt beside the basin. The water shimmered unnaturally, refracting the moonlight like oil on glass.
"What is this?"
Kaelara answered first. "Condensed water essence. Magic. This is Tidebinder work."
Niah paled. "Here?"
Kaelara nodded. "Wodr assassins. Elite class. Move through water veins. Kill clean. Leave nothing."
Tavin took a step back. "So… why haven't they struck?"
"They already have," Kaelara said grimly. "We just haven't bled yet."
Ambush:
The attack came without warning.
A wave of pressurized mist burst from the well — not water, but compressed vapor, so dense it slashed bark from trees. It shot outward, forming a humanoid shape as it moved — cloaked, faceless, silent.
A Tidebinder.
Niah moved first, her ghost flame snapping to life as she shielded Tavin with a wide blue arc. The mist hissed as it touched the flame, parting for a moment.
Kaelara didn't wait. She lunged into the mist, blade first, slicing through steam—but her strike met nothing.
"It's phasing!" she shouted. "Not solid!"
Tavin backed up, his arm glowing. "Then how do we hit it?"
"Displace the water," Niah said. "Unravel the form before it reforms!"
Tavin closed his eyes. Focus. Pull. Collapse. Shift.
He reached into the mist, not physically—but with space itself. He bent a rift just beneath the Tidebinder's core, pulling a surge of water into a spatial vacuum.
The form twisted, staggered.
Kaelara struck.
Her blade met resistance this time. A scream echoed inside the mist—wet, furious.
The form staggered back.
"Pōwehi," it hissed, voice rippling like waves."You are late and not yet powerful."
"Get used to disappointment," Tavin growled.
The Tidebinder surged forward, tendrils of mist lashing out.
One hit Kaelara across the chest, slamming her backward.
Another wrapped around Niah's waist and pulled—toward the well.
Tavin's brand burned.
He threw his hand forward.
Anchor point established. Ghost Flame Lock engaged.
Suddenly, Niah's ghost flame burst from her body in comet-like trails, her soul igniting brighter than before. The fire carved a path into the mist — and the mist screamed.
Tavin saw it.
Resonance achieved. Niah's Affinity Level 1: Flame Comet Unlocked.
She spun mid-air and launched herself back, trailing fire. She hit the ground in a three-point stance, eyes glowing violet-blue.
Kaelara rejoined the fight, blood trailing from her shoulder.
"NOW!"
Tavin pulled open a spatial field directly behind the weakened Tidebinder — a blackmouth rift wide enough to swallow a tree.
Kaelara lunged.
Niah struck.
The Tidebinder fell backward—directly into the rift.
Tavin collapsed it behind them.
Silence. There was no life in his pocket this time.
Then... cheering.
Dozens of villagers had watched from windows, from rooftops, from trees. And now, they whispered a new word:
"Pōwehi... he fights with the flame…""The Gate… it listens again.""He… saved us?"
In the Wodr Depths:
Far away, in a palace submerged beneath a darkened ocean trench, a massive figure sat on a throne of shell and bone.
The water around him quivered.
A robed servant approached.
"The Tidebinder failed."
The god opened his eyes—twin whirlpools of endless pressure.
"Send the next one," he said. "Let the boy learn what it means to drown."