On the road again
Rex stood at the mouth of the cavern, the water around him stirring gently with the distant pull of the valley's currents. Behind him lay Dumrakar'uun—its glowing gardens, its warm chambers, its people who had become something like a strange, unexpected family. Ahead stretched the deep road, a vast expanse of darkness and drifting light, where the unknown waited like an open jaw.
He tightened the strap of his pack across his chest. Lyria stood beside him, the faint shimmer of her dotted lines glowing in the dim light. Her expression was unreadable—somewhere between calm and anxious.
Just as Rex took his first step forward, a splash echoed behind him.
A small Dumrakar boy rushed toward them, paddling quickly through the water with a broad grin. He skidded to a stop in front of Rex, thrusting out a tightly rolled map bound with twine.
"The chieftain said you'd need this!" he announced proudly.
Rex blinked, surprised by the kid's enthusiasm. He accepted the map carefully.
"…Thanks, kid."
The boy's face lit up even brighter. Rex hesitated, then reached out and ruffled the child's hair. The boy giggled, and something warm tugged in Rex's chest—something that felt dangerously close to belonging.
Lyria bowed her head slightly. "You delivered it well," she said.
The boy puffed up, radiant.
When he swam back toward the village lights, Rex turned away quickly. If he looked any longer, he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk away at all.
He inhaled deeply, letting the heat in his chest settle.
"All right," he murmured to himself. "Time to see what this thing can do."
Lyria raised a brow. "Rex… don't do anything—"
But he had already grabbed her by the arm.
"—stupid," she finished flatly.
He flashed a grin. "Too late."
His gills snapped open along his neck, the slits widening—and then a sudden ignition ripped through them like miniature jet engines. Thin pillars of flame burst from each gill, instantly vaporizing the water around his head in tiny shockwaves.
Rex launched forward like a torpedo.
"REX—!" Lyria's voice tore away behind them as they rocketed through the valley.
The world blurred into streaks of darkness and glowing plankton. Rex felt the pressure surge against his face, his heart hammering, the thrill overpowering. Lyria clung tightly, her legs trailing behind like a streamer caught in a hurricane.
"THIS IS TOO FAST!" she shrieked.
Rex's grin faltered.
Something enormous rose in front of them—a towering, jagged column of rock jutting out of the side of the valley wall.
"Oh—no."
He slammed into it with bone-shaking force.
The column cracked… shuddered… and collapsed, cascading downward in chunks. A sharp, terrified yelp echoed from below.
Rex froze. Lyria shoved off of him and darted down, her eyes wide.
Under the fallen rocks lay a smear of blood—and a small creature curled tightly in a ball. It looked like a seal pup with a protective shell covering its back, trembling violently like an underwater armadillo trying to disappear.
Lyria spun and smacked Rex in the arm—hard.
"You nearly crushed it, idiot!"
Rex winced. "Okay—okay! Sorry!"
She crouched, lifting the tiny creature with careful hands. It whimpered, shell clicking softly. Lyria pressed it gently to her chest, cooing in soothing tones before easing it into a small sling-pouch strapped diagonally across her body.
"There…" she whispered. "You're safe now."
Rex rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks burning. "Uh… my bad."
Lyria shot him a look that promised doom if he repeated the mistake.
He held up his hands. "New ability. Still figuring it out."
"Hm."
He reached out slowly this time, resting a hand on her arm.
"Ready?"
She hesitated, then nodded—but with a warning glare.
Rex activated his power again, the gills flaring with controlled heat. The flames shot out in smooth bursts, propelling them forward. This time he kept the pace steadier, more careful, keeping Lyria close so she wouldn't trail helplessly behind him.
They shot into the deep, weaving through the drifting shadows of the valley with far more grace—Rex holding her gently but firmly, both of them suspended in the dark water like streaks of living flame and silver.
A New Current
The water grew warmer as Rex and Lyria approached the edge of the new current. A soft hum vibrated through the valley walls, as if the ocean itself were breathing. Light shimmered in thin ribbons ahead of them, bending and twisting like living threads. Neither of them knew exactly what waited inside, but there was something strangely comforting about the pulsing glow—like a path lit for travelers who were meant to follow it.
Rex exhaled slowly.
"Before we go in," he said, rolling his shoulders, "I should test the… y'know. Heat thing. Make sure it doesn't go wild."
Lyria nodded, her expression calm but watchful. "Better to learn its rhythm now than when we're in the heart of the current."
He swallowed, bracing himself. The mark on his chest warmed, then tingled sharply. His gills flared open—then ignited with short, focused bursts of flame. The water hissed, swirling into a tight funnel around him. Lyria reached out, steadying herself with a hand on his wrist, but her grip held no fear. She trusted him more than he trusted himself.
As the ability settled into place, Rex eased forward, letting the flames carry him in a short burst. But the moment his propulsion met the current's outer edge, something unexpected happened—the current didn't shove him away or drag him under. It guided him.
A spiral of water wrapped around him like a soft tether, nudging him gently into alignment.
Lyria drifted forward, studying the flow. "It's not fighting you," she murmured. "It's… accepting you."
"I'll take accepting," he muttered, trying to regain control.
He fired his gills again, this time more cautiously. The propulsion met the current's pull, and he shot forward—too quickly. He overshot the safe line, veering to the right. The current caught him like a giant hand and he jerked back, spinning once before steadying. Lyria hid a small laugh behind her hand.
"Yeah, yeah," Rex grumbled, "real funny."
She angled her body and demonstrated, sweeping smoothly with the current's natural bend. "Don't force it. Lean into where it wants you to go."
Rex tried again, adjusting his stance the way she showed him. The flame-jets flared, and this time he didn't lurch sideways. He followed the current's curve, gliding in a smoother arc. A thrill shot through him—controlled, balanced movement for the first time since he gained the power.
"See?" Lyria said. "You're not fighting it anymore."
"It's actually kind of nice," he admitted.
Her grin widened slightly. "Told you."
They practiced together, moving deeper along the glowing path. Minute by minute, Rex felt himself syncing with the flow. The current carried him forward like a fast-moving river, but never harshly. Lyria joined him at his side, mirroring his movements, guiding him with glances or small gestures. Soon they were weaving through the water in fluid patterns, slipping along the bends like they'd trained for this for years.
Then Lyria slowed, her eyes softening with a distant thought.
"There's something an elder once told me," she said quietly. "A phrase I never understood until now."
Rex lowered his speed to match hers. "What was it?"
"'Trust the current—don't tame it.'" She touched her fingers to the swirling water. "He said I'd one day enter a living flow with someone who needed it. I always thought it was a riddle. Or maybe just an old superstition."
"And now?" Rex asked.
She looked at him—not startled, not shy, just thoughtful. "Now it feels less like a riddle. More like… something I was meant to learn. Maybe something we're meant to learn together."
Rex wasn't sure what to say to that, but something in his chest warmed—gently, not like fire, but like a steady ember. He nodded, and they drifted forward again.
Side by side, they moved into the new current, letting it pull them onward, letting it teach them its rhythm, letting it carry them toward whatever waited ahead.