The journey to the Shattered Coast took seven days, and none of them were quiet.
Kaelen and Aelric moved swiftly, avoiding the main roads and sticking to the ancient hunter trails that twisted through the forests and low hills. The land grew stranger with each passing mile — trees gnarled into clawed hands, rivers that flowed the wrong way, stones that whispered when touched. The world was shifting, responding to something old and waking.
By the fourth night, the skies turned copper. And on the fifth, they heard the drums.
Not the sounds of war — not yet — but drums beneath the earth, deep and slow, like a heart beating through stone. Aelric called it "The Undersong." He didn't know what it meant. Neither did Kaelen. But the Ember pulsed every time it sounded.
They reached the edge of the Shattered Coast at dawn on the eighth day.
The cliffs broke away into a jagged sprawl of rock and tide, seafoam whipping through massive fractures in the land like veins. The horizon stretched endlessly, the ocean churning gray under a low, brooding sky. Salt filled the air like smoke.
Kaelen paused on the cliff's edge, the wind tearing at his cloak. "This used to be a city."
Aelric stood beside him, arms crossed. "Port Alvara. Once the crown of the Western Reach. Biggest harbor outside of Virehall. Now? Dead. Sank after the Sea War. What's left of it's down there. Beneath the waves."
"Why would the Vessel of the Sea wake here?"
"Because something else did first."
They made their way down the crumbling paths that led to the drowned ruins, picking carefully across slick rocks and twisted roots. Seaweed clung to everything. The ground was wet with brine. And the silence was deafening.
No gulls. No surf. Just the sound of breath and boots on stone.
Then, through a gap in the rocks, they saw it.
A temple — or what remained of one — half-submerged in the water. Black stone walls rose from the surf, etched with ancient glyphs that glowed faintly blue. Spiral towers leaned as if drunk, and a central spire jutted from the sea like a jagged tooth. Around its base, a ring of salt had formed, perfectly circular. Unbroken.
And kneeling within that ring was a figure.
A girl — maybe seventeen — long black hair plastered to her back by rain. Her hands were submerged in the tidal pool, palms pressed against the water's surface. She wore a tattered sea-cloak with the mark of the Tideguard, a long-defunct order.
Kaelen stepped forward, but Aelric held him back. "Wait."
The girl looked up.
Her eyes were not human.
They shimmered with the color of deep water — layered greens and silvers, flecked with white, like the ocean in stormlight. She stared at Kaelen like she'd been expecting him.
"Flame," she said softly. "You came."
Kaelen moved cautiously to the edge of the salt-ring. "You're the bearer."
She gave a small nod. "Of the Sea. Or what's left of it."
"Who are you?"
The tide around the temple surged suddenly — not in rage, but in recognition. The girl stood slowly, water cascading from her arms like silk. "My name is Seris. I was born in the drowned quarter of Alvara. The sea took my family. Then gave me back to the world."
The Vessel rose behind her, half-buried in the rocks. It looked like a colossal pearl split open, with water suspended unnaturally between its halves. Within it, a figure floated — a woman of pure azure, with coral branching from her skull and kelp trailing like hair. Her arms were folded. Her eyes closed.
Aelric exhaled. "That's... not disturbing at all."
Seris turned toward him. "She is the memory of the sea. The Echo. She speaks only in storms."
Kaelen stepped closer. The Ember pulsed in his chest again — brighter now, resonant, as if calling to the Vessel itself. "Can you control it?"
Seris smiled, but it was sad. "Control? No. The sea is never truly tamed. But it listens. And sometimes, it answers."
Kaelen opened his mouth to respond — but the wind changed.
It dropped. Completely.
No breeze. No sound. No movement.
Then came the voice. Not from a throat — from the air itself.
"You gather them. The heirs. The doomed. The fire reborn."
Seris's eyes widened. "Something's coming."
The sea around the temple began to steam. The water hissed, bubbles rising fast from the deep. A low, humming vibration rose beneath their feet.
Aelric unsheathed his sword. "What now?"
Kaelen turned toward the cliffs.
At first, nothing.
Then — rising from the chasm between land and sea — came a shape.
Tall. Slender. Cloaked in armor forged of shell and black steel, barnacles embedded in its plates. It carried a trident of rusted gold and walked without splashing, each step hissing steam. Its head was a mask — eyeless, faceless, crusted with salt.
Seris gasped. "A Tidewoken."
Kaelen drew his sword. "What's that?"
"Sea spirits turned by the Hollow King. They were once defenders. Now they serve only silence."
The creature raised its trident. Water surged upward in serpents of brine.
Aelric lunged first, blade flashing — but the water caught him mid-air and slammed him against the rock wall.
"Stay back!" Seris shouted. She stepped into the salt ring again and plunged both hands into the pool. "Vessel, awaken!"
The waters shuddered.
Within the pearl-like shell, the azure Echo opened her eyes.
A roar of ocean-song erupted from her chest, and the sea obeyed.
Waves rose in columns. Foam crystallized into blades. The Tidewoken screamed — a terrible, hollow sound — and charged toward Kaelen.
The Ember flared in response.
Kaelen met the creature's strike with a cry of his own, sword igniting in a rush of gold flame. Steel met salt-magic in a blinding clash. Sparks and water burst outward.
Aelric pulled himself to his feet and limped to Kaelen's side. "You always make new friends this fast?"
"Just help me kill it."
Together they fought — Kaelen blazing like a beacon, Aelric darting like shadow. Seris sang to the sea, summoning barriers of brine and spears of ice.
Then — with a cry and a final strike — Kaelen drove his blade into the creature's chest.
The Ember pulsed once.
And the Tidewoken dissolved into mist and foam.
Silence fell again. But this time, it felt different.
Seris stepped forward, the water parting for her. "The sea accepts you, flame-bearer. You are not its enemy."
Kaelen nodded, breathing hard. "Will you come with us?"
Seris looked back at the Vessel. The Echo gave a faint nod, then faded into stillness once more.
Seris turned. "Yes. The sea has woken. And it fears the storm to come."