Dominic and Talyon burst from the depths, water cascading from their bodies as they emerged into the storm-ravaged harbor of Athens. The city's marble columns were slick with rain, streets flooded and thrumming with terrified cries.
Lightning shattered the sky, revealing monstrous forms stalking the streets—figures twisted by rift energy, half-human, half-shadow. The air crackled with dark magic.
"Riftspawn," Talyon growled. "They're feeding on fear and chaos."
Dominic gripped his trident tighter. "Then let's give them something to fear."
The crowd scattered as Dominic raised his weapon. The trident glowed electric blue, humming with ancient power. Waves surged from the flooded harbor, twisting into spears of water that shattered the advancing shadows.
A figure stepped forward—a woman clad in dark armor, eyes burning with unnatural fire.
"Erebos' lieutenant," Talyon hissed. "Ariella, Mistress of Shadows."
Ariella smiled cruelly, summoning a storm of black shards that cut through the air like knives. Dominic dodged, retaliating with bolts of lightning that struck her shield.
The battle had begun—and the fate of Athens hung in the balance.
The streets of Athens were chaos incarnate. Thunder roared overhead as rain hammered the cracked stone. Dominic's trident sparked with electricity, the air around him alive with the pulse of the sea.
Ariella moved like a shadow incarnate—swift, cutting, impossible to pin down. Each strike from her black shards sang through the storm, aiming to shred his defenses.
Dominic parried with a shield of swirling water, lightning crackling along its surface. He launched a blast of pure ocean fury, sending Ariella staggering back.
"You're stronger than I expected, boy-god," she sneered, eyes burning with hate. "But the rift's corruption will drown you."
Talyon appeared beside Dominic, slashing through the riftspawn that swarmed the streets, buying him space.
"Focus, Dominic!" he shouted. "You must learn to control the tide within you!"
Breathing hard, Dominic closed his eyes for a moment. He reached deep, feeling the pulse of the ocean inside—its fury and its calm. The storm around him seemed to slow, bending to his will.
With a roar, he unleashed a massive wave, a towering wall of water charged with lightning that crashed down on Ariella and her minions. The black shards shattered, and shadows screamed as the flood cleansed the streets.
Ariella, drenched and seething, vanished into the shadows.
"We've only won the first round," Talyon warned.
Dominic nodded. "Then we fight harder."
The battle for Athens was just beginning.
As dawn broke over the battered city, Dominic stood atop a shattered column, staring out at the flooded streets below. The storm had calmed, but the shadow of Ariella's attack lingered like a wound.
Talyon approached, his face grim. "You need to understand who you're fighting."
He began to speak of Ariella—a once-proud priestess of an ancient sea cult, who sought power beyond mortal limits. When the rift opened, it whispered promises of vengeance and strength. She answered, becoming the Mistress of Shadows, bound to Erebus and the corruption spreading through the world.
"She's lost to the darkness," Talyon said. "But she's dangerous. And clever."
Dominic clenched his fists. "Then I need to be stronger. Faster. Smarter."
Talyon nodded. "Then the training begins."
Below them, the city stirred. Athens was alive with fear, but also hope—the hope that the sea's new king had returned.
Dominic tightened his grip on his trident.
"This is just the beginning."
The first pale light of dawn spilled over Athens, casting long shadows across the shattered city. The streets were scarred and slick with rainwater, the echoes of last night's battle lingering like ghosts. Dominic stood atop a broken marble column, his trident resting against his shoulder, eyes fixed on the flooded harbor below.
The storm had passed, but the weight of what had happened pressed heavily on him. The riftspawn had been relentless, Ariella had been ruthless—and he'd barely held his ground.
Talyon's footsteps were slow and measured as he climbed the rubble beside Dominic. His face was grave, the scars on his hands telling stories Dominic didn't yet understand.
"You fought well," Talyon said, voice low but steady. "But you need to know what you're really up against."
Dominic turned, listening intently.
Talyon gestured toward the horizon where the city's ancient temples still stood, some cracked and broken, others swallowed by the sea. "Ariella was once a priestess—a guardian of the old sea cults, worshippers of the ancient tides long before the gods fell. She was respected, devoted, and powerful."
Dominic frowned. "What happened to her?"
Talyon's eyes darkened. "The rift found her. It whispered promises no mortal should hear—promises of power, vengeance, and escape from the fragility of life. The corruption spread through her veins like poison, twisting her devotion into obsession. She craves the rift's power, and she'll tear apart anyone who stands in her way."
Dominic's fingers tightened around his trident. "So she's lost."
"Lost to the darkness, yes," Talyon agreed. "But dangerous beyond measure. She knows the city, the people, and the secrets of the deep. And she'll use all of them to break you."
Dominic exhaled slowly, eyes drifting over the city. "Then I need to be stronger. Faster. Smarter."
Talyon nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Good. Because you're not just fighting Ariella. You're fighting the rift—and that's a battle of endurance, of will, and of control."
They moved together toward the Temple of the Tide, the ancient sanctuary Dominic had claimed. Inside, the water shimmered with a faint blue glow, and the air hummed with power waiting to be shaped.
"Your training starts now," Talyon said. "First, control. You must learn to bend the ocean's will without breaking yourself."
Dominic stepped into the Circle of Echoes once more. The runes flared as the sea's energy flooded him, pressing like the tide against the shore.
At first, it was chaos—a violent rush of power that threatened to tear him apart. He stumbled, gasping for control, but Talyon's voice cut through the storm.
"Focus on the rhythm of the waves. Feel the calm beneath the fury. You are the tide, Dominic. You are both destruction and peace."
For hours, he trained—lifting walls of water, shaping currents, summoning lightning beneath the waves. Every muscle burned; every breath was a battle. Yet with each success, he grew stronger, more certain.
Between sessions, Talyon shared fragments of ancient knowledge—stories of Poseidon's reign, of the gods' downfall, and the balance Dominic must restore.
But even in this refuge, the shadows of the rift lurked.
Late one evening, as Dominic rested beneath the temple's archways, a sudden tremor shook the sea floor. Dark water seeped through cracks in the stone, whispering promises of chaos.
Talyon's eyes snapped open. "The rift stirs again."
Dominic's heart thundered. "What now?"
"We prepare," Talyon said. "Because this fight is far from over."
Dominic stood, gripping his trident. The road ahead was long and dangerous—but he was ready to claim his destiny.
"This is just the beginning," he whispered to the sea.