The Night the Sky Hesitated
"Where's the master?" Percy asked as he came out of the shower, towel-drying his hair.
"He disappeared," Sally replied, her face serious, leaving no room for jokes.
"Ah, yeah… he likes to do that. Though I'm sure he's just around here somewhere, hiding," Percy said as he glanced around.
He turned to his mother, his eyes glinting with excitement.
"Do you believe me now, Mom?"
"Yes," Sally answered with a soft, though forced, smile. "I always believed you, Percy."
Her words caught the boy off guard. He opened his mouth to reply, but she calmly interrupted.
"Why don't you get ready? We're going to Montauk."
Percy wanted to insist, but something deep inside warned him that something important was coming. He shut his mouth and began packing his things.
A few minutes later, they loaded the bags into the car and set off.
…
The trip ended at an old cabin near the beach. The wind whipped through the grass, the waves crashed hard, and the scent of salt hung in the air. As soon as they arrived, mother and son began feeding the seagulls with small pieces of blue bread, laughing as they strolled along the shore.
Here, Sally and Percy seemed renewed. As if the beach were a sacred space, the deepest bond between them, a refuge where all they needed was each other.
Meanwhile, Miraak sat calmly atop the cabin's roof, watching the scene with mild boredom. Every so often, he would raise a hand, releasing an invisible bolt of power that disintegrated anything that tried to get too close. Yet his eyes remained fixed on the boy, observing with curiosity the child he had trained for the last month.
Percy was happier than he had ever been, freed from the bitterness that had gnawed at him for years.
Miraak then turned his gaze to the sea. His eyes narrowed, as if they had locked with another gaze just as intense across the waves. The ocean churned, the wind howled stronger, and Miraak's eyes burned gold. For a few seconds, an instinct of battle clashed on the horizon, as though two unseen forces were measuring one another in silence. The waves split in opposite directions, the air grew heavy…
And then, it stopped. As if it had never happened. Miraak smiled, intrigued, before shifting his eyes back to Percy and Sally, who were returning to the cabin to escape the sudden wind.
…
"Ugh, Master, can't I enjoy a little vacation with my mom?" Percy complained sadly, sitting on the sand at sunset. The sun was sinking slowly into the horizon, painting the sky in red and gold.
"No," Miraak answered bluntly, tossing him a golden sword nearly half the boy's size. It was simple, without ornaments… but incredibly heavy.
Percy caught it and, to his surprise, managed to lift it without too much effort—even with one hand. For a twelve-year-old, it was incredible: a weapon that would challenge a grown man to lift with both hands, and yet Percy held it with relative ease.
"Great," Percy muttered with resignation. He knew what was coming: another beating.
The training began. Percy threw all his strength into it, tried every trick and stance he knew, desperate to at least brush Miraak's clothes. But his master barely seemed to pay attention. With a yawn, Miraak moved his sword just slightly, batting away every strike as if they were weightless. Every so often, one casual sweep sent Percy rolling across the sand.
After an hour and a half, the boy was covered in sand, aching from head to toe, and panting hard. He collapsed on his back, arms spread wide like a starfish, staring up at the night sky. The stars glittered above, and the waves roared with relentless force.
Miraak approached and leaned down, prodding him with the blunt tip of the sword.
"So this is what they call Spartan training," Percy groaned weakly, wincing at the little jabs.
"I said I'm a Nord," Miraak retorted with a hint of annoyance. Then, without further warning, he shoved Percy into the sea with his foot.
Percy burst back up, drenched and shivering.
"Master! Can't you be a little nicer? You said I was your first student!" he shouted from the water.
What he didn't notice was that the fatigue, the pain, the aches—all vanished the moment he touched the sea. Miraak studied him closely, his eyes narrowing.
"I see…" he murmured, realizing something. A dangerous smile spread across his face.
"Huh?" Percy looked down at his body, bewildered. The pain was gone. The sword no longer felt heavy—it was light, comfortable in his hand. The water surrounded him like a protective mantle, cool and invigorating. He lifted his gaze to tell his master, only to meet that smile.
A smile that was anything but friendly.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
…
That night, in front of the cabin, a bonfire burned. Sally waited in silence, fighting the urge to run out and stop the training. She had seen Percy get up again and again, each time with a fiercer look, throwing himself back at Miraak. She couldn't bear to watch him suffer, but she also couldn't deny him that determination.
In the end, she simply waited in the dark.
Then Miraak appeared, carrying what looked like a corpse in his hand. It was Percy, soaked, exhausted, hanging limp as if dead.
The Nord dropped him roughly beside the fire. Percy hit the ground with an "ugh," proving he was still alive. He barely lifted his head, eyes half-shut, seeking his mother's gaze.
"Hi, Mom… is there anything to eat?" Percy asked with a forced smile. He was exhausted, starving, but still tried to keep his voice light.
Sally studied him silently. He had no bruises, no wounds, no trace of pain. Relief softened her features. She sighed, then smiled warmly before going to fetch him some food.
Meanwhile, Miraak had already vanished.
…
A while later, after eating, Percy seemed to have regained a little energy. Now he sat beside his mother, drying his clothes near the fire that burned in front of the cabin.
"Mom… what was my father like?" he suddenly asked, catching Sally off guard.
She smiled faintly, touched with nostalgia.
"Tall, handsome, and strong… but also gentle," she said. "You have his black hair, Percy, and also his green eyes." She plucked a blue candy from the bag and rolled it between her fingers. "He would have loved to see you… he would be so proud."
Percy lowered his head, uncomfortable. Before Miraak came into his life, he had never once felt like anyone could be proud of him.
"How old was he?" Percy asked. "When he left…"
Sally stared into the flames, thoughtful.
"He only spent one summer with me. Right here, in this cabin."
"But… did he know me as a baby?" Percy insisted, as if trying to confirm a memory.
"No, sweetheart. He knew I was pregnant, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born." Her voice cracked slightly, and she lowered her gaze.
Percy frowned, as though trying to piece together something important. Anger stirred in him, but he remembered what Miraak had told him: control your emotions, don't let them control you. He took a deep breath, and his expression turned cold, analytical.
"He's special, isn't he? Like Miraak. After all, Master said he was searching for someone who attacked him… and if he confused my destiny with his, then it must mean my dad is like that guy."
Sally looked at him in surprise, worry flickering across her face. But Miraak's words echoed in her mind: that her overprotection was damaging her son's psyche. She couldn't keep hiding everything.
"That's right, Percy. He's special. Much more than you imagine. But he's different from Miraak. The truth is… I don't even know what Miraak is. But your father, and the man who fought him… I'm sure they are the same."
Percy listened intently, his eyes shining with determination.
"That's why you're special too," Sally continued. "And that puts you in danger. Knowing it too soon would be worse. That's why I didn't tell you until…"
"Until what?" Percy asked, frowning.
"…until you were ready. Or until you had the necessary protection," she answered. "There's a place where children like you go, Percy. Your father told me. That I should send you there. But even there… you're more special than most."
Percy blinked, confused.
"So what am I then? The son of a god or something?" he asked with a nervous smile, trying to break the heavy air.
Sally froze. She didn't answer.
"Wait… are you serious?" Percy shot to his feet.
It was as if something had awakened—or rather, as if Percy had suddenly become visible to something else.
Before he could press further, a guttural roar rumbled in the distance.
Grooooow…
Sally stiffened, filled with fear. She rushed to Percy, ready to grab him and run.
Several screams erupted all around, and soon the sound of footsteps multiplied in the darkness. The beach seemed surrounded. Even the waves surged violently, and in the night dozens of red eyes began glowing like torches, slowly closing in.
The wind howled, lightning split the sky, and the bonfire in front of the cabin was snuffed out at once.
"Oh no…" Sally muttered gravely, fear etched on her face.
Percy's heart pounded in his chest. He felt the air grow heavy, danger closing in. He spotted the golden sword lying in the sand and, without thinking, ran to grab it. Though blunt, he held it firmly. He was ready for whatever came.
Sally trembled—not for herself, but for how she would protect her son.
"I've never seen anything like this," said a calm voice.
Percy's fear evaporated like smoke, replaced by sudden calm. He turned, and there stood Miraak, beside the extinguished fire, crushing a blue candy between his fingers.
"I didn't know mortals ate poisonous things," he remarked with genuine curiosity. "Perhaps I should start using stronger poisons in your meals, to increase your resistance."
Percy realized in that instant that the most dangerous thing there wasn't the creatures closing in, but the man he called master.
Miraak lifted his gaze to the sky, then to the surroundings.
"Mm?"
He frowned slightly and snapped his fingers.
What Percy saw next defied all logic: a whirlwind of fire erupted around them, expanding in a vast ring of destruction that spread for kilometers. Sand, air, and flame surged in a devastating roar. The glowing eyes rushing toward them barely had time to scream before they were consumed. A few tried to escape, but remained only as burning shadows, bellowing like doomed beasts before collapsing into silence.
Percy managed to catch sight of one shadow still fleeing, half engulfed in flames—an enormous cow-like creature bolting into the distance.
Even the sky fell silent, as if holding its breath… but only for an instant. The clouds began to spiral above the cabin, condensing into a dark eye. The sharp smell of ozone filled the air. High above, a spear of light was forming, drawing in lightning that coiled toward a single point, directly above Percy and Sally. The sky was preparing to strike again.
Miraak smiled, his eyes blazing gold, as though a legion of dragons took shape behind his back within his aura. His power rose like an ancient tide; glowing runes surfaced across his skin, and his stance shifted just enough to announce that he would answer the next heartbeat.
From the ocean came another response: the sea arched inward, as if inhaling. Waves rose into jagged crests, and in the depths something trembled with force, aligning not with Miraak, but with that which he had protected. The water claimed its place at Percy's side.
Sky, sea, and Miraak were held taut in the same steel thread, each force brimming with fury in an endless second. The wind surged, the sand quaked, and the smoldering ring of Miraak's fire marked the ground zero.
The lightning above finished forming, ready to fall.
Miraak was about to speak.
The sea roared.
And then the sky hesitated.
For one eternal moment, it was as if it weighed the cost of unleashing its full wrath here. Perhaps out of caution for the sea, perhaps for what both protected—or perhaps as a silent warning that doing so would mean total war, now with a player who could not be read.
At last, the lightning struck—but not on them. It crashed down on the surroundings with deafening violence, splitting trees, hurling up columns of sand, and shaking the coast beneath a rain of fiery bolts. The earth trembled, and chaos consumed everything around them.
Sally shielded Percy with her body, shuddering at the explosive thunder that rained down like a storm of ruin.
And yet, at the center of it all, Percy, Sally, and Miraak remained untouched.
Miraak smiled, satisfied, as though he had just won an invisible contest of wills. The sea roared again, deep and proud.
The sky, for its part, rumbled with thunder that sounded like a promise—this wasn't over.