The sea was merciless.
Waves crashed against the hull of their rented vessel as the Shattered Reef came into view—jagged stone spires clawing toward the heavens, wrapped in swirling mists that reeked of salt and old blood.
Elen stood near the bow, her cloak whipping in the wind. "No wonder no one sails here anymore. This place looks cursed."
"It is," Kaelin said softly, adjusting the bramble-fastened clasp of her reclaimed cloak. "Not by evil. By betrayal."
Veyne stood beside Ael at the stern, scanning the horizon. "The second Ashborn sleeps here. Her name is Nyra. We called her the Abyssflame. When the empire fell, she fled to the sea."
"Why?" Ael asked.
"Because she couldn't forgive herself for what she did to save us."
Althar, gripping the wheel with both hands, gave a humorless chuckle. "Well, nothing says 'reunion' like navigating death fog and jagged rock teeth."
"Focus," Ael said, staring into the mist. "She'll feel us coming."
He was right.
The moment their ship scraped against the reef's outer edge, a humming filled the air—low and melodic, but laced with venom. The sea calmed unnaturally. The fog closed in.
Then, they heard the voice.
"Who dares trespass in the Gravewake Sea?"
The waters swirled and parted, revealing a narrow channel between the reef spires. Shadows moved beneath the surface—shapes not quite fish, not quite human.
"We're here for Nyra," Ael called out. "I am Ael Kael'tharin."
A pause.
Then a ripple of laughter, soft and haunting.
"Kael'tharin? No. He died, remember? I watched him burn."
Ael stepped to the edge of the deck. "You did. And yet here I am."
A figure emerged from the mist ahead—walking across water as if it were solid glass.
She was tall, clad in a robe that shimmered with dark blues and purples like deep-sea twilight. Her long hair flowed like ink, and her eyes glowed with bioluminescent teal.
"Nyra," Veyne whispered.
She stopped at the ship's prow, gazing at Ael with something between wonder and fury. "You look like him… But you're not him."
"I'm not," Ael replied. "But I remember you."
Nyra's lips curled. "Do you remember what I did?"
He nodded. "You drowned the last fleet of our enemies. With all their prisoners still aboard."
Silence followed.
Then Nyra laughed bitterly. "Good. You remember my sin. So what now, false king? Come to offer redemption?"
"No," Ael said. "I came to ask for your help. The Empress has returned. And she's stronger than before."
Nyra's expression changed instantly.
She stepped onto the deck, sea water pooling at her feet but never touching the wood.
"Did you say the Empress?"
"Yes," Kaelin said. "She walks again."
"Impossible. I felt her die. I buried her soul in the Abyss."
"Well," Elen muttered, "she dug herself out."
Nyra turned to Ael, her eyes narrowing. "Prove it."
Ael held out his hand.
The Heartseed from the Ironroot Crypt glowed faintly in his palm. The moment it did, a shadow passed through the clouds above—and the sea moaned.
"She's been unmaking the Seals," Ael said. "We have one chance to stop her. We need the Ashborn."
"I buried that title a long time ago," Nyra said. "I'm no longer your weapon."
"I'm not asking for weapons," Ael said. "I'm asking for sisters."
Nyra looked at Kaelin.
The two stared at each other for a long time.
Then Kaelin stepped forward. "I was lost too. But he brought me back."
"You burned whole cities," Nyra whispered.
"I remember," Kaelin replied. "But now I choose what I fight for."
Nyra looked to the sea, then back at Ael. "Then you'll need to pass my trial."
Ael raised an eyebrow. "What trial?"
She raised her hand. The sea rose behind her, forming a massive wave—but instead of crashing down, it shaped itself into a ring of floating stone platforms.
"You will walk the Ring of Memory," she said. "Face the sins you left buried beneath the waves. Only then will I know if you're worthy of leading us again."
Ael stepped forward without hesitation.
"I've walked through fire and forest. I can walk through sorrow too."
Nyra smiled darkly. "Then step lightly, King. Regret runs deep in water."
As he placed his foot on the first stone, the sea around him shimmered—and suddenly, he was no longer in the reef.
He was back.
On a battlefield.
Surrounded by the screams of the dying, flames licking the skies—and a young Nyra, kneeling at his feet, begging him not to order the drowning of a thousand chained soldiers.
His voice rang in his ears, cold and sharp:
"Do it."
Ael gasped.
The trial had begun.