Chapter 18

Tharros had watched as his father unleashed a torrent of golden fire, scorching the area's margins. The younger dragons watched in admiration, but Tharros felt a knot form in his chest. Even then, he understood that my own energy wasn't sufficient. However, thinking about his father wasn't an option.

"Never rely on others," his father told him later, his voice quiet but firm. "They may simply disappoint you." "Remember that, Son."

Tharros had carried those words with him ever since, wearing them as armor. However, standing in this arena, they felt heavier than ever.

The juvenile dragons continued their drills under Tharros' careful observation, their movements more focused but still lacking coherence. Certainly one of them, a lesser dragon with silvery scales, strained to keep up. It stumbled, its wing clipping anyone else's tail, and they both collapsed in a tangled mess.

"Enough," Tharros growled, his determination wavering. He stepped closer to the pair, his golden eyes narrowing. "What become that?"

The silver dragon looked up, its voice wavering. "I-i used to be looking to preserve up, sir."

Tharros' stare softened briefly before quickly hardening again. "Merely attempting is insufficient. "In a real war, hesitation will get you killed."

The words he spoke felt hollow. He cast a glance at the others, who were annoyed and hesitant. They weren't responding to his authority; they were intimidated by it.

The realization stung.

Sophia emerged at the area's threshold, attracting the young dragons' attention. She folded her arms, her look blank as she studied Tharros. He approached her, his frustration seething beneath the floor.

"What are you doing here?" he said, his voice rougher than he expected.

She lifted her eyebrow. "I'm watching you crush them into the floor. "How is that running out?"

Tharros' jaws constricted. "They want the subject. Without it, they will dissolve when it counts."

"Or maybe they'll fall apart due to the fact they're too afraid to depend upon each other," Sophia offered. Her gaze softened, and her voice dropped. "You want to make them stronger, yet you are isolating them. Similarly, you isolate yourself.

Tharros glanced at her, her words striking a chord he had not anticipated. He wanted to dispute and defend his techniques, but deep down he knew she was correct.

"Show me," Sophia said, going past him. She spoke to the young dragons, her tone firm but type. "Pair up. We're going to strive for something unique."

Tharros watched as she led them through a new activity, encouraging them to paint together rather than competing. They hesitated at first, unsure of the change in dynamics, but the tension gradually dissipated. The silver dragon, coupled with a larger one, began to discover its rhythm, making its movements smoother and more confident.

Sophia cast another glance toward Tharros, a faint smile pulling at her lips. "See what takes place when you let them proportion the weight?"

He crossed his palms, reluctant to admit she was correct but unable to deny the outcome.

Later, Tharros took over the practice, incorporating Sophia's style. He intentionally paired the younger dragons, encouraging them to communicate and encourage one another. His instructions were strange at first because they were given overseas, but as the session went, something changed.

The silver dragon, emboldened by its associate's support, unleashed a flash of flame that illuminated the arena. The others cheered, their enthusiasm contagious. Tharros couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment as he saw them triumph-no longer as individuals, but as a team.

For the first time, he allowed himself to return and let them take the lead. It labored.

Because the lesson was over, the young dragons dispersed, their laughter booming over the night air. Tharros stood in the center of the vacant expanse, his thoughts heavy. Sophia approached, her expression sweet yet knowing.

"You did true," she said confidently.

Tharros sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "It's not smooth, letting move."

"It's well worth it," she said. "And it's no longer all about them. "You must also trust yourself."

Her comments lingered as she departed, leaving Tharros alone with his thoughts. He looked up at the stars, which were mildly faint but consistent. For the first time, he felt the weight of his father's lessons ease.

However, the quiet was short-lived. A profound tremor shook the ground beneath his feet, sending ripples through the region. Tharros' eyes widened as he braced himself, his instincts heightened.

A low, foreboding rumble emerged from the palace's depths, like a growl emanating from the earth itself. It wasn't just a tremor; it turned into a warning.

Tharros' chest tightened as he approached the palace. Anything that was on its way has already arrived.

Kael’s Crossroads

The tremor had rattled the palace, and as the others dispersed to assess the damage, Kael remained still, his mind distant. His body moved routinely as he approached the warrior grounds, but his mind was somewhere else-trapped between the obligations of responsibility and the draw of something far more intimate.

The Leviathan's oncoming danger loomed on all sides, yet it transformed into Sophia, who ate his psyche. Her recovery, her bravery in the face of insurmountable challenges, had torn him apart in ways he could not explain. But Aquaria came first. It generally did.

He entered the educational facility, where his warriors awaited him. Their looks were a mix of determination and anxiety, reflecting the dread that pervaded the entire kingdom. Kael tightened his grasp on the trident by his side and addressed them.

"Shape up," he screamed, his voice steady despite the mayhem inside. The soldiers stepped into position, and the sound of clinking armor filled the air.

Kael started coaching them through drills, his commands distinctive, his tone sharp. However, his heart was not in it. He observed their actions, observing each fault and pause. They were unprepared for what was to come.

Neither was he.

As the squaddies cycled through their formations, a memory surfaced unexpectedly. Kael observed himself as a boy, standing on the rocks watching the vast expanse of the sea. His father, big and imposing, stood beside him, his attention fixed on the horizon.

"You'll recognize someday," his father continued, his voice full of conviction. "Kael, accountability comes first. constantly."

Kael, who was younger and more naive, had remarked, "What if it costs you what you love?"

His father's quiet served as an adequate remedy. Later that night, Kael overheard his parents argue. His mother's speech was a mix of sadness and rage, accusing his father of sacrificing their family for domination. His father didn't deny it.

"That's the cost of being a Stormwind," his father had explained. "Love is transient. Obligation is eternal.

Kael had spent his entire attempting to live with the help of those phrases. However, when he stood in the arena, Sophia's face remained in his memory. The way she challenged him, seeing through his shields, made him reconsider all he thought he understood.

"Kael!" one of the infantrymen exclaimed, snapping him back to the moment.

The young warrior had faltered during a maneuver, and his guard was heightened in response to his improper attitude. Kael approached him, his rage boiling over.

"Once more," Kael remarked sternly. "If you could't get this right, you'll be the primary to fall whilst the Leviathan strikes."

The soldier's expression stiffened, but he complied. Kael moved aside, swiping a hand through his hair. His father's words weighed heavily on him, yet they no longer felt true. No longer totally.

Later, when the sun fell below the horizon, Kael was summoned to the council room. He entered and found the elders sat in a semicircle, their countenance solemn.

"The Leviathan's energy grows," one of them remarked. "Aquaria should stand unified, its warriors targeted. We do not have the money for distractions."

Kael crossed his arms, realizing where this was going. "What are you saying?"

An elder leaned forward, his eyes piercing. "You have a bond with Sophia. There's a chance. She is linked to the Leviathan, and while her role is important, your attachment to her separates your mind. You must put dominion first."

Kael's jaws constricted. "And you observed slicing ties with her will make me a higher chief?"

"We assume it will make you a more disciplined individual," any other elder stated. "You have a commitment to Aquaria, Kael. "Not to her."

The phrases stung more than Kael wanted to acknowledge. He wanted to argue, to protect what he felt, but decades of ingrained allegiance kept him back. He exited the chamber, their shouts reverberating in his ears.

He discovered Sophia in one of the palace gardens, her gaze fixed on the stars. The gentle brightness of the coral lamps illuminated her face, and Kael looked at her for a brief moment. She appeared serene and constant, but he knew what she was carrying.

"Kael," she said, knowing his presence. She turned to him, her face kind. "What's wrong?"

He hesitated, then took a step closer. "The council needs me to distance myself from you."

Sophia's eyes widened, but she quickly hid her amazement. "due to the bond?"

He nodded, his fists squeezing around his eyes. "They consider it a distraction. That I can't fulfill my obligation if I'm...too close to you."

"And what do you think?" She requested, her voice gentle yet steady.

Kael appeared distant, his chest constricting. "I don't recognise. My entire life, I've been told that obligation comes first. That anything else is a weak point."

Sophia drew closer, her gaze unflinching. "And do you accept as true with that?"

Kael looked into her eyes, the anguish in his heart reflected in his countenance. "I'm not sure how to select. I don't see a way to be both.

"You do not have to select," she stated firmly. "However, you must determine what is important to you. Now, not to the council, not to your father, but to you.

Her words hit a chord deep within him, a part of himself that he had long forgotten. He nodded, but the gravity of the decision hung over him.

The following morning, Kael returned to the warrior grounds. The infantrymen had already assembled, their weapons glinting in the early light. Kael entered the ring, his trident in hand.

"Who's prepared to spar?" he inquired, his tone dripping with assignment.

The young warriors exchanged glances, and one improved-a tall, broad-shouldered merman with a determined gaze. Kael nodded and motioned for him to enter the hoop.

The spar began, their movements swift and deliberate. Kael pushed the fighter hard, assessing his reflexes and clearing up. But his own consciousness slipped as Sophia's words echoed in his memory.

"Attention!" the young warrior yelled, capitalizing on Kael's hesitation. His strike landed, sending Kael falling back.

The area became silent. Kael steadied himself, tightening his grasp on his trident. He pushed forward, his motions crisper now, and dealt the warrior a decisive blow.

The group erupted in cheers, but Kael barely heard them. His indecision had nearly cost him the fight. It served as a strong reminder that he didn't have enough money to divide-neither in struggle nor in life.

As the troops left, Kael stayed in the arena, his thoughts heavy. Sophia's words echoed in his mind, her remarks cutting through the noise.

What mattered to him?

He understands his father's training, the importance of subculture, and the council's expectations. After that, he thought of Sophia-her electricity, rebellion, and her concept in him.

Kael took a long breath as the answer crystallized in his thoughts. He would not choose between his obligation and his bond with Sophia. He could fight for each, even if it meant rejecting the council and rewriting the policies.

As he exited the arena, a tiny vibration rippled across the floor beneath his feet. It became subtle, almost imperceptible, but it sent a shiver down his back. The Leviathan started stirring again, and this time it felt closer.

Kael's remedy hardened. He could deal with whatever awaited him. For his state. For her.

Arin’s Shadows

Arin awoke abruptly, her breath seizing as the black strands of her nightmare clung to her brain. She sat straight in her bed, her chamber illuminated by the strange glow of the bioluminescent coral. Her palms trembled as she pushed them to her chest, hoping to stop the pounding of her heart.

In the dream, she stood inside Aquaria's heart, her power unwinding in a flood of disaster. Sophia, Kael, and Tharros were there, their faces filled with betrayal and fear as her strength consumed them. The Leviathan's voice murmured in her ear, a deadly lullaby.

"You have been born to destroy," it whispered in a seductive tone. "You can't get away what you're."

Arin shuddered and pulled her knees to her chest. The dream had seemed so real, and the darkness so bright. And the worst component? A small part of her had desired it-to let go and embody the turmoil that simmered beneath her skin.

The coral tower pulsed slightly as Arin went through it, her bare feet brushing against the cool stone. This became her sanctuary, where magic flowed freely, untamed and uncooked. However, it has recently begun to feel more like a jail. The dividers seemed to close in on her, the air thick with the weight of her own might.

She paused in front of the reflect-like pool in the center of the tower, its floor vibrating with dark force. Her reflection peered back at her, but it wasn't her-it was a distorted version of herself, with malevolent eyes and a shadowy torso.

"No," she said quietly, stepping back. "That's now not me."

However, the reflection did not waver. As a substitute, it smiled, a cold, vicious expression that sent a chill down her spine.

"You couldn't run from this," it replied, its voice reverberating in her mind. "you could't hide."

Arin grew distant, her arms tightened into fists. She had spent her entire life learning about and controlling her magic. But now it is sliding away from her, corroding all it touches. The darkness was spreading, and he or she had no idea how to stop it.

Days are passed in solitary. Arin stopped the others, her attention fed by her attempts to seal away her energy. She constructed ward after ward, constructing complex spells to absorb the power. However, the more she attempted to resist it, the more intense it became.

The coral walls began to wither, their vibrant brightness fading into a dismal grey. The air became cooler, and the once-luminous tower dimmed under the weight of her spell. It was as if the darkness began to feed on her anxiety, thriving on her desperation.

Arin dropped to the floor, her power depleted. She leaned her head against the bloodless stone, her thoughts twisted. She was losing control. And if she can't stop it, she might become the very thing she's afraid of-a destructive weapon.