KAELEN STORMRIDER
The hours that followed were a blur of chaos and uncertainty as Kaelen Stormrider's fleet pushed further into Druumari's waters. The black seas, once an ally, had become a volatile force that seemed to shift with every passing moment. A storm, a tempest unlike any he'd ever seen, hung on the horizon, its ominous presence casting a shadow over the entire fleet.
Kaelen stood at the helm of The Leviathan, his eyes narrowed, scanning the ever-darkening sky. The winds had picked up dramatically, whipping around him with a force that made his clothes flap violently in the gusts. His hand was steady on the wheel, but there was a tightening in his chest that he could not ignore. Something was wrong—something more than just the usual storm.
The sea was alive. It trembled beneath him as though it were a breathing, living thing, reacting to the presence of his ships. His storm-gray and lightning-gold eyes flicked from the sea to the skies, the strange pull of something ancient pressing against his chest. It wasn't the kind of storm he could control, not with his magic, not with his power over the seas. This was something darker, older—something beyond him.
Around him, his men were already uneasy, their expressions tense, their movements jittery. His crew had faced storms before—he had led them through countless squalls, his power over the sea and the storms a guarantee of their survival. But this felt different. The air was thick with unease, and even the toughest among them kept looking over their shoulders, as though expecting something to appear from the fog.
"I've never seen the sea act like this," Orin, his first mate, said, his voice strained as he came up beside Kaelen, his eyes flicking nervously to the waves crashing against The Leviathan's side. "It's like it's fighting back."
Kaelen said nothing for a long moment, his gaze unwavering as he watched the horizon. The water was turning darker, deeper. The once-turquoise surface had become a foreboding shade of black, the waves rolling in violent, unpredictable patterns. It was as if something was stirring beneath them, something that had been sleeping for centuries and was now waking.
The first sign came as a whisper—a voice on the wind, too faint to catch but heavy enough to stir the hairs on the back of Kaelen's neck. His storm-gray eye flickered as he strained to hear it. But it wasn't just the wind. The air itself felt thick with it—the presence of something unnatural.
"Prepare for impact!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the growing tension on the deck. The men scrambled into action, securing the ship, tying down loose equipment, and checking the cannons, but Kaelen knew. They were too late.
The storm came without warning, an explosion of energy that tore through the sky like a gaping wound. The winds howled, rising into a screeching frenzy, and the clouds above them darkened further, swirling with unnatural speed. The entire sea seemed to convulse beneath them, and then, a flash of lightning cracked through the sky, striking the water with a deafening roar.
Kaelen's heart raced as his hands gripped the wheel. His magic flared, but it was no use—the storm was not his to command. The sea was turning against them. The storm was alive.
Then, the true force of it hit.
A colossal wave, a mountain of water, rose suddenly from the depths, crashing into the side of The Leviathan with the force of an avalanche. The ship lurched violently, nearly throwing Kaelen from his feet. The crew screamed, struggling to maintain their footing as the ship heaved to one side, creaking under the pressure.
"Hold fast!" Kaelen shouted over the roar of the storm. His voice was barely audible against the raging winds, but it didn't matter. The men were scrambling in every direction, trying to save themselves as the ship groaned in protest.
Another wave, even larger, followed the first. This time, it tore the ship's mast clean from its base, sending it crashing to the deck with a deafening snap. The sails flapped wildly in the wind, torn to shreds in mere moments. The ship bucked again, and Kaelen was thrown forward, landing hard against the deck. His body ached, but there was no time to rest.
"Get to the cannons!" he bellowed, struggling to his feet. "We're not done yet!"
But the words were barely out of his mouth before another flash of lightning struck. The energy was sharp, violent, and in that moment, Kaelen knew something was terribly wrong. His storm magic—the very thing that had always kept him connected to the seas—was being overwhelmed. The energy of the storm was far beyond anything he could have imagined.
The ship groaned again as the winds tore into it, snapping ropes and tearing holes in the hull. The Leviathan was taking on water fast, the decks slick with the surge of the waves. The men fought desperately to control the ship, but the storm's grip on them was suffocating. It was too much.
The sea was not their ally today.
Kaelen pushed forward, ignoring the burning ache in his body as he made his way toward the bow of the ship. His eyes scanned the waters, and that was when he saw it—the source of the storm. A dark figure, cloaked in shadows, moving beneath the water. It wasn't a creature, not exactly, but something more. A spirit, its form barely visible beneath the surface, a monstrous shape moving through the water like a predator stalking its prey.
The realization hit him like a slap to the face. Druumari's spirits. The same spirits that protected the kingdom and haunted the waters, the very things he had underestimated. They were awake now, angry, and they had turned the tide against him. This wasn't a natural storm. It was them.
A shout from above broke through his thoughts, and Kaelen turned to see the mast of The Leviathan splintering as another wave slammed into the ship. His heart pounded in his chest as the ship lurched again, this time throwing him over the railing and into the cold, churning sea below.
For a moment, everything went black. The world spun as the waves swallowed him whole, pulling him deeper into the icy depths. He fought to keep his head above the water, but the storm had taken everything—the ship, his men, the fleet. The sea was a merciless beast, and Kaelen could feel it pulling him under.
But Kaelen Stormrider wasn't one to die easily.
Summoning what little power he could, he forced himself to the surface, gasping for air, his lungs burning. His eyes darted around, desperate to find The Leviathan or any sign of the remaining ships, but all he could see were dark waves and the destruction left in the wake of the storm.
The fleet was broken. The storm had torn them apart.
And now, Kaelen had to survive.