Mist clung to my scales as I rose from the pool where the Demi-God had trained me for days. The island felt hushed now that the lessons were done, frogs croaked from the vines above, and dew slid into the water in slow rhythm, as if the jungle itself listened. Warm vapor wrapped my gills, soothing but heavy, almost reluctant to let me go. For a moment I considered staying, letting the mist hide me from the world, but the reef's pulse called me back, steady and insistent in the mana organ now beating inside my chest.
The Demi-God watched me from his vine-wrapped dais, immense and still, his eyes glowing like two golden moons. They seemed to read every current that ran through me, every thread of strength or doubt. His skin shimmered, green flowing into black, power hidden behind patient calm.
I bowed low, palms pressed to the pool. "I should return," I said softly, almost afraid my voice might break the balance of this place.
His thought-voice rolled through water and bone, slow and certain.
You have steadied your current. It no longer shatters when tested.
I touched the glowing veins at my throat, feeling the pulse against my fingertips. "I can feel it," I admitted, "but the reef needs more than feeling."
More strength comes with distance, the god replied, ripples spreading outward. Carry the balance you found here into places where rivers cannot reach. Do not command the current. Guide it.
A low croak vibrated the mist. Fog drew aside, forming a narrow downhill channel through the roots. The path shimmered like a promise.
I looked back one last time, silent words passing between us, and slipped into the flow. Mist folded behind me like a closing door.
Roots brushed my arms as I drifted through the channel, glowing insects flickered above like stars trapped under leaves, and every ripple of the stream wrapped me in lingering warmth. The calls of amphibians and the hum of hidden springs blended into a single heartbeat. The further I swam, the more that heartbeat faded, replaced by the cold pull of the open ocean.
The mist gave way to endless blue. The warmth I carried bled away under the sharp bite of saltwater. I swam harder, tail sweeping in powerful arcs, cutting across the currents with purpose. The island receded into a shadow behind me, its vapor trail dissolving as if it had never existed.
Halfway home I slowed, letting the ocean pour through my gills. My muscles trembled from the strain, but the organ inside my chest pulsed strong, alive. When I reached out with my thoughts, the water curled around my wrist in a small spiral, soft and obedient, until I released it. The control felt real, earned, but I knew already that using it drained me.
Reef spires rose like ghost fingers through the blue haze. I dipped low through the southern trench, weaving past canyons where dartfish scattered at my shadow. A hum rippled through the water, faint but sharp, mechanical and wrong. I slowed, senses prickling. Something had changed.
The southern gate guards watched me approach. I lifted my identity crest, and they waved me through without a word, but their eyes lingered on the glow in my veins. Awe and unease mixed in their stares, and not just because of me.
Inside, the reef felt heavy. The chatter of life was gone, replaced by hushed voices and the slow beat of amber lamps. Triage beds glowed in the halls, shellbinders bent over the wounded with trembling hands, and broken coral slabs leaned against walls, half-mended. The water tasted metallic and tense.
Above the main conduit, a crystal fixture blinked steadily. A single rune burned orange against the current.
– 70 cycles to surge
A shellrunner brushed past, whispering, "Seventy left." The words sank into my chest like lead. Surge. Drills. Something was coming, and soon.
I needed to see Yera. If there were orders, I had to hear them.
The drill arena gleamed with glyphlight. Water swirled in controlled rings, pressure humming through the floor. Trainees stood in formation, fins tight with nerves. Yera stood at the center, spear grounded, her eyes sharp as coral edges.
"Shield, spear, surge," she said, no greeting, no pause. "Three breaths each."
I swam into place, lungs steadying. I shaped a dome of water around myself, feeling its weight settle over my shoulders, not forcing, just holding. My arms burned as I kept it stable. The dome melted into a spear, the current tightening until the tip glowed silver. I released it, letting it dissolve cleanly. Then I launched backward in a controlled jet, cutting water in a straight line, catching myself on a soft ripple cushion.
My veins flared bright, breath shuddering, but I held my posture. Yera's eyes softened by a fraction. "Your stamina holds," she said. "You will need every breath for the Spiral Run."
The pride that swelled in me was tempered by dread. Tomorrow's race was sacred, but the reef was bleeding, and the amber lamps told me time was short.
When drills ended, she motioned me to follow. We entered a quiet vestibule where three glyphbinders waited, scroll cases in hand. A cloaked figure stood with them, face half-hidden behind cracked lenses, pale green veins glowing along her cheeks.
"Kaelen," Yera said, "this is Veshra of Hollow Tide."
I inclined my head. "Mist keep you."
"The mist keeps us all," she replied, voice calm but edged like a sharpened shard. She tapped a coral slate dotted with crimson marks. "Twenty-three shadow outbreaks along your bloom shelf. Fifteen in one tide. Nine culled by our scouts. Without that, your pools would have greyed by dawn."
A binder muttered, but Yera silenced him with a glance. "What do you want?"
"Observation during Spiral Run," Veshra said. "Four scouts. No fruit taken. Data only."
I stiffened. "And if Lithari drills rise?"
"Then we bleed beside you," she said. Her eyes settled on my glowing veins. "Demi-God's gift?"
"The tide shares its gifts," I answered evenly.
After tense silence, Yera nodded. "Four scouts. Crest mantles. You stray, you die."
Veshra bowed, cloak trailing like white kelp, and vanished into the halls. I exhaled slowly. Yera's face remained unreadable, but her tail flick said everything: allies or not, they would be watched.
I drifted toward the Spiral Run arena. I needed to see it, to remember why this mattered. Mist hung over the entrance like a living curtain. Inside, coral pylons spiraled upward, glowing from deep red at the base to violet at the peaks. Artisans adjusted currents, caretakers hung prismatic banners, the water hummed with the weight of tradition.
I stopped under the arch, heart pounding. The arena shimmered under soft light, a sacred song vibrating in my new organ. For a breath, I forgot drills and countdowns. This was the reef's heart, its memory, its hope.
Then the crystal chime behind me rang.– 69 cycles to surge
The glow washed the arena in uneasy light. I clenched my fist around the spear sling. Wonder cracked, fear seeped through, and I turned away. There was still more to do.
Night currents carried me beyond the city lights. Two glyphbinders swam at my side as we approached the outer bloom shelf, where plankton glimmered like stars scattered across black water. Veshra waited with three scouts, cloaks pale under the glow.
We exchanged mirror-glass markers tuned to deep-blue resonance, invisible to Lithari sensors. I handed her a pouch of bloom enzymes. "For your wounded."
She accepted with a nod, fingers brushing mine. "Your kindness will be remembered." Her gaze stayed on my veins. "The glow stays?"
"Part of me now," I said. The Demi-God's presence stirred faintly even here. A distant croak rolled across the water, deep and soft. The exiles bowed, reverence plain. Even away from the reef, they still believed.
As binders set markers, a tremor prickled through me. Far below, red tracer lights pulsed, one, two, three. They vanished, but not before fear tightened my throat. The drills were moving.
Veshra caught my look. "You feel it too."
"If they rise during the race," I said, "we defend together."
She nodded once, cloak twisting as she vanished into the dark.
Dawn cast rose and gold across the arena. Banners rippled in the current, children strung flower chains along viewing arches, shellguards tested emergency flares. I stood high on the balcony with Yera, the Heart-Current Pearl warm against my chest.
The water tasted metallic, sharp, like blood. "The tide's flavor changed," I whispered. "Fate just shifted."
The countdown crystal sang.– 68 cycles to surge
Out on the horizon, tracer lights blinked again, brighter. My grip on my spear tightened. Tomorrow the hatchlings would swim, the fruit would hang in mist, and tradition would march on, even with drills rising from below. The reef would need every drop of strength I had.
I closed my eyes, hearing the Demi-God's words echo inside me: Carry balance where rivers cannot. Fear thinned, leaving only resolve. If drills burst through the Spiral Run, the water would answer through me first.
And I would not let the reef shatter.