The sea grew colder as the northern currents bled downward.
Maelora noticed first.
She pressed her hand to the reef wall, feeling the tremble beneath the stone.
> "Something's coming."
Dominic stood up, already tightening the band around his waist where his trident shard was hidden.
> "It's not just something," he said. "It's her."
Varun stepped beside them, eyes scanning the current above.
> "Who is she?"
Dominic didn't answer. He didn't know.
Not fully.
But he remembered the voice that spoke to him in the deep.
---
The water shimmered as it split down the center—like a curtain drawn aside.
And there she stood.
Selkyr.
The last siren priestess.
No choir.
No weapons.
Only her song woven into her aura, trailing behind her like a memory refusing to die.
---
She hovered a few feet from them.
Her eyes—bright silver.
Her voice—steady.
Her presence—undeniable.
Dominic stepped forward.
> "You sang."
