99 - From Fear to the Sea

  After several days of travel, Vivien finally returned to the Sea King’s castle. Her journey, already exhausting, had worsened when she was attacked by a sperm whale while fleeing.

  The creature had torn off half of her fin, turning every movement into agony, each beat of her mutilated tail a painful reminder of her defeat.

  And now, after yet another failure, she threw herself at the foot of the throne.

  The king was asleep.

  She knew he didn’t need to sleep. Rest was an artifice, a vestige of something he once was—or pretended to be. He slept because it made him more similar to what he wished to impress.

  Prostrated there, she trembled at the thought of the punishment that might befall her. Under the gaze of a soulless being, anything could happen. His displeasure was unpredictable—an abyss where punishments lurked beyond her worst imaginings.

  When the water around her began to cool, a shiver ran down her spine. A sigh broke the silence. Small ice crystals formed around the throne, spreading across the room like shards of glass.

  He was awake.

  — Vivien... — The king’s voice was as soft as the glide of a well-honed blade. — So foolish… Kneeling will not erase your failure.

  She shivered in fear of what was to come. There was no obvious fury in his tone, but that meant nothing. He could be seething with rage or merely amused by her misery—and yet, every word came out flawless, without a trace of loss of control. His pride would never allow such inelegance.

  — I...

  — Ah, my tool... — He sighed theatrically, his eyes glinting like fractured ice. — I saw everything… every one of your failures. Just another one, what a pity. It seems you always fail, don’t you?

  He smiled. Cold, delicate, and cruel at the same time. The kind of smile that did not belong to an enraged king but to a collector examining a broken tool, wondering whether it was worth fixing or discarding.

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  — Alone, you are weak... — He lifted one hand, and the water around them trembled at the smallest of his gestures. — But I am generous. Benevolent enough to let you live, despite so many disappointments.

  He rose gracefully, and the water roared around him—not in anger, but in an indescribable terror toward mortal beings. His presence was a weight in the ocean, something the sea itself seemed to want to reject but could not.

  With a simple touch, he grasped Vivien’s hand. She felt her skin burn, and when she looked, she saw her wound closing. His power stitched her flesh back together as if she were a broken toy, patched up without care or consideration.

  — You upset my little star... — He murmured, his eyes glinting with something that was not affection, but entertainment. — She didn’t enjoy playing with you. A pity, really—I’ll have to find another toy for my little star.

  A soft laugh escaped his lips. Vivien hesitated, barely lifting her gaze. Her instincts screamed at her not to look into his eyes, but curiosity was stronger.

  And that’s when she felt it.

  Pain.

  Needles driving into her skin. Something wrong creeping through her veins. She tried to pull away, but the king’s fingers held her with deceptive gentleness.

  Then, before she could react, a cold hand gripped her throat.

  Vivien gasped, shock stealing her breath. Her vision blurred for a moment, and when she was released, a crushing weight settled on her throat.

  She brought her fingers to the spot, panting. The reflection on the shining castle walls revealed what her eyes could not see—a dark mark forming there. A four-pointed star, pulsing as if it had a life of its own.

  — This power... — The king tilted his head slightly, observing her as if she were an interesting experiment. — What a waste on you. But I found it amusing to grant it... After all, my little star entertained me greatly by testing my patience.

  Vivien’s eyes widened.

  Seeing that smile again—it was perfect, but false. A smile sculpted, rehearsed to perfection, yet so empty it seemed lifeless. A reflection without warmth, without truth.

  — My piece, this gift I bestow upon you will allow you to take the bodies of the dead to fight for me. — His voice was as cold as the water around them. — Ah, but I almost forgot… Your mission has changed. You will not seek my treasure this time.

  Vivien pressed her lips together.

  — Then… what is my task, my king?

  — You will gather an army. — His tone was simple, casual, as if he were asking her to arrange a ball. — And you will make the ocean tremble.

  She dared not question.

  — Yes, my king… but…

  — The more fear spreads, the faster I will be freed. — He sighed, sinking back onto his throne. For a brief moment, his expression bore something that could almost be boredom. — I wanted to play with my little star for longer, but the old sperm whales decided to gather to strengthen my seal. Those useless old fools… thinking they can contain me.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the mere mention of his enemies disgusted him. Then, he turned his gaze back to her.

  — This time, your task is simple, Vivien. — The shadow of the star on her neck pulsed, and she bit her lip to stifle a cry of pain. — I hope you make good use of your last chance to become a star... So make the sea tremble with my existence.