Thalor returned exactly three days later, as promised. He brought news of arranged meetings with two of the region's major powers—the Storm Shark Tribe and the Coral Court.
"The Storm Sharks will meet you first," Thalor explained. "They're more direct, value strength and honesty. Show weakness and they'll dismiss you. Show arrogance and they'll challenge you. Balance is key."
"When and where?" Elion asked.
"Tomorrow at dawn, at the neutral reef three miles north of your island. Bring warriors, but not too many—it's a show of confidence to arrive with a small honor guard rather than an army. I'd suggest yourself, perhaps five others, and maybe a dozen of your shadow soldiers."
"And the Coral Court?"
"That meeting is in five days, at their palace beneath the waves. Much more formal, more ceremony and protocol. I'll brief you separately on proper etiquette—the Court takes such things very seriously."
After Thalor left, Elion assembled his delegation. He'd take Kael for military credibility, Mira for diplomatic skill, and Lyssa for her connection to nature magic that might resonate with the aquatic species. Garrick would remain to oversee the settlement, while Helena would manage medical concerns.
They spent the rest of the day preparing. Mira coached Elion on negotiation tactics. Kael ensured weapons and armor were in good condition. Lyssa meditated and communed with the island's spirits, seeking insight into the Storm Sharks' nature.
That night, Elion barely slept. The weight of what they were attempting settled on him. These negotiations could determine whether Shadowhaven thrived or withered. Whether they found allies or made enemies.
Dawn came too quickly.
The delegation departed in one of their small boats, with shadow soldiers swimming alongside beneath the surface. The neutral reef was a beautiful location—crystal clear water revealing coral formations in impossible colors, schools of tropical fish darting through the formations.
The Storm Sharks were already waiting.
They were mer-folk, but different from Thalor's people. Larger, more muscular, with skin patterns that resembled their namesake. Their leader was immediately identifiable—a massive male with scars across his torso and a crown made of shark teeth.
"I am Razor-Fin," he announced without preamble, his voice like grinding stone. "War-Chief of the Storm Shark Tribe. You are the shadow-touched who claims Island Seventeen?"
"I am Elion Crestfall, leader of Shadowhaven settlement. I claim the island with the Guardian's blessing and by right of occupation."
"The Guardian." Razor-Fin's laugh was harsh. "A relic of a dead civilization, fading into nothing. Her blessing means little."
"Perhaps. But my people's labor means much. We've built a settlement, established defenses, and survived everything thrown at us. That earns its own legitimacy."
"Survival is the minimum requirement for existence, not an achievement to boast about." Razor-Fin circled the boat like a predator assessing prey. "What matters is strength. Power. The ability to hold what you claim against those who would take it."
"Then judge our strength by our deeds. We've killed an Abyssal Devourer, survived a Tempest Elemental, and fought a kraken to a standstill. We've earned the Deepcurrent Clan's friendship and claimed an island that's defeated every previous attempt at settlement."
"Words," Razor-Fin dismissed. "Show me."
It was a challenge. Elion recognized it immediately. The Storm Sharks valued action over talk.
"What would you have me show?"
"Your shadow soldiers. Thalor spoke of them. I want to see if they're as formidable as the rumors claim." Razor-Fin gestured to his warriors. "My best fighter against one of your shadows. First blood wins. If your shadow prevails, we'll acknowledge your strength. If my warrior wins, you'll acknowledge the Storm Sharks' superiority."
It was a test, and refusing would be interpreted as weakness. "Agreed. But I choose which shadow soldier participates."
"Acceptable."
Elion reached through his mental link. Shadow orc warrior, come forward.
His knight-rank shadow emerged from the water—the massive orc warrior he'd extracted weeks ago, its form radiating barely contained power. It stood on the reef, water streaming from its dark armor, crimson eyes fixed on Razor-Fin.
The Storm Shark warriors shifted uncomfortably. Even Razor-Fin's expression showed respect.
"That's no normal shadow soldier," the war-chief observed.
"No. It was once a powerful orc warrior who nearly killed me. Now it serves absolutely."
"Interesting." Razor-Fin selected his champion—a female warrior nearly as large as the shadow orc, with multiple scars and an aura of experienced violence. "Coral-Breaker, show them Storm Shark strength."
The two combatants faced each other on the reef. No weapons—this would be hand-to-hand. Thalor, serving as neutral referee, raised his hand.
"First blood. Begin!"
The fight was brutal and swift. Coral-Breaker was fast and skilled, using techniques perfected over decades. But the shadow orc was faster, stronger, and completely without fear or pain. It absorbed hits that would have dropped a normal warrior, then countered with devastating force.
Within thirty seconds, Coral-Breaker was on her back with the shadow orc's hand at her throat, claws drawing a single drop of blood.
First blood.
The shadow orc immediately released her and stepped back, having fulfilled its purpose. Coral-Breaker rose, rubbing her throat, a mixture of shock and grudging respect on her face.
Razor-Fin laughed, loud and genuine. "Well! That was impressive. Your shadow warriors are indeed formidable." He approached Elion's boat, extending a webbed hand. "The Storm Shark Tribe acknowledges Shadowhaven's strength. We will not oppose your settlement."
Elion shook the offered hand, feeling the tremendous strength in Razor-Fin's grip. "We seek more than non-opposition. We seek mutual respect and potential cooperation."
"Ambitious. But perhaps realistic." Razor-Fin's expression became thoughtful. "We have a proposal. There's a reef system to the east that's become infested with poisonous sea snakes. They're disrupting hunting grounds and have killed several of our young warriors. The snakes are too numerous for us to clear efficiently, and their venom makes direct assault costly."
"You want us to handle it."
"Your shadow soldiers don't fear venom, don't tire, and can operate in the snake-infested caves without risk. Clear the reef, and the Storm Sharks will consider an alliance. Refuse, and we remain neutral—respectful of your strength, but not committed to your survival."
Elion looked at Mira, who gave a slight nod. It was a fair offer, and they needed allies more than they needed to avoid work.
"We accept. Give us the location and we'll clear the reef within the week."
"Excellent!" Razor-Fin's grin showed rows of sharp teeth. "I look forward to working with you, shadow-touched. You may prove to be interesting neighbors after all."
As the Storm Sharks departed, Thalor swam closer to Elion's boat. "Well done. You read them correctly—showed strength without arrogance, accepted their test without hesitation. The Storm Sharks respect that."
"One down," Elion said. "How much harder will the Coral Court be?"
"Much harder. The Court values entirely different things—tradition, protocol, careful speech. But that's a concern for five days from now. For today, celebrate your success. You've made your first regional ally."
The delegation returned to Shadowhaven to cheers. Word of the successful negotiation spread quickly, and morale soared. They weren't just isolated refugees anymore—they were becoming a recognized power in the region.
That evening, Elion stood at the settlement's edge and looked out at the darkening ocean. Somewhere out there, the Storm Sharks were spreading word of Shadowhaven's strength. Somewhere else, the Coral Court was preparing for their meeting. And somewhere far away, the Empire continued its slow, inevitable search for the baron who'd defected.
The future was uncertain, but for the first time since fleeing Silverwood, Elion felt like they were building something that could last. Something worth protecting.
The real work was just beginning.