The murky waters of the Slums of the Tide seemed to vibrate with the aftershocks of the battle against Warlord Kulit. The news had traveled faster than a shark in a feeding frenzy: the Seahorse Warlord was dead, and the outer reefs were free.
Alvian stood inside Master Thorne's shack. The old Guardian was busy polishing his new, quicksilver legs, a look of fierce pride on his weathered face. He looked like a man who had been given a second life, and he intended to use every second of it.
"You did it," Thorne said, his voice gruff but filled with respect. "Kulit was a plague. The city breathes easier today because of you."
"The city can breathe later," Alvian replied, his voice calm and detached. He wiped a speck of algae from his [Vestments of the Void Monarch]. "You promised me a name. The Second Guardian."
Thorne stopped polishing. He looked at Alvian, then at Valeria and Seraphina standing guard by the door.
