As the day drifted into evening, K.J. remained at the front of the ship, watching the changing hues of the sky, lost in his thoughts. The quiet passage of time, marked only by the steady rhythm of the waves, allowed him to process the intensity of what he was feeling. With each passing hour, he found himself deepening in understanding, letting the overwhelming feelings settle into something more steady, something he couldn't ignore.
By the time night had fully claimed the sky, a brilliant full moon had risen, casting a soft silver glow over the river and illuminating the ship's deck with a tranquil light. The water shimmered, reflecting the moon's light like a mirror, and the world felt calm, as if holding its breath alongside him. K.J. felt an odd comfort under the moon's gaze, its light making everything seem both sharper and softer, his heartbeats seeming to echo in the quietness.
The question of why still lingered, but with the moonlight around him, K.J. felt less afraid of it. He thought about the moments he and Oliver had shared—the trust they'd built, the ways Oliver had stood by him without judgment. All of it pointed to something that felt genuine, something that made him believe that maybe, just maybe, he was deserving of this feeling after all.
As he stood there, staring into the vastness, he felt his heart begin to settle. The ship rocked gently underfoot, and with each dip and rise, K.J. felt a growing sense of courage. He didn't know what words he'd find or what he'd say to Oliver when he saw him next, but he knew he couldn't leave things unsaid. Not now.
He took a deep breath, letting the cold night air fill his lungs, the moon casting a steady light that seemed to guide his way forward.
K.J. leaned against the railing, his gaze drifting across the water's surface where the moon cast its silvery reflection. I think... I think I'm in love with him, he admitted to himself, the words resonating within him, stirring up both wonder and a quiet ache. But then, a wave of shame washed over him, clouding the joy. Why do I feel this way? Why did I run off so quickly, leaving him without a word, without an answer? He gripped the edge of the railing, feeling the weight of his own confusion pressing down.
Oliver hadn't come out of their cabin, and K.J. knew why. Oliver was probably worried that the kiss had shifted everything between them, that he had crossed a line. The thought of Oliver, alone and likely berating himself, added a pang of guilt to K.J.'s heart. He wanted to go back, to tell him that he wasn't angry or hurt, that this... this feeling was something he was beginning to understand, too.
To clear his mind, K.J. moved to the other side of the boat, leaning over to watch the moon's reflection ripple on the dark water below. As he shifted his weight, his bow tapped against the wooden railing, a soft clicking sound reminding him of the reality and dangers that still lay around them. He adjusted it on his back, securing it more tightly, trying to calm the unease growing in his gut.
And then, something changed. The once peaceful silence turned heavy, an ominous sensation creeping over him, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Something's coming.
K.J. scanned the deck, catching sight of the sailors moving about, securing ropes and checking equipment, but their footsteps seemed hurried, almost frantic. Before he could think further, the ship's bow jolted upward, sending K.J. stumbling backward until he braced himself against the main mast, heart pounding. He heard a gushing noise, a rush of water that sounded like it was coming from all around them. He glanced forward, his eyes widening as shapes emerged from the depths—a handful of figures, both strange and menacing, circling the ship.
They were merefolk—creatures with the bodies of men and the scales of fish, armed with tridents gleaming under the moonlight. Their eyes glowed with a dark intelligence, fixed on him as they pointed their tridents in his direction, forming a circle that left him feeling cornered. K.J. realized then that the ship had come to a halt, the water around them eerily still.
"K.J.!" Oliver's voice broke through the silence as he burst from the cabin, rushing to his side, his eyes flickering with both worry and resolve. K.J., already steadying himself, reached for his bow, an arrow notched in an instant, his gaze meeting Oliver's for the briefest of moments before he turned back to the threat. They stood side by side, prepared for whatever came next.
At the back of the ship, K.J. caught a glimpse of something massive—a tail, shimmering with silver scales that twisted and curled around the stern like a serpent coiling to strike. The tail was enormous, glinting in the moonlight, each scale reflecting a different shade of silver and blue as it shifted with slow, menacing intent. It looked like the tail of a snake, powerful and sinuous, snaking through the water with a controlled grace that sent a chill down K.J.'s spine.
Captain Rek clung to the wheel, his knuckles white as he fought to steady the ship against the creature's pull. His face was set in a fierce expression, jaw clenched, eyes focused as he battled to maintain control. The ship groaned under the pressure, the wood creaking in protest as the creature's tail tightened its grip around them.
The merefolk remained motionless, tridents poised as they observed K.J. and Oliver, their eyes gleaming with a dark intelligence. They seemed to be waiting, as if part of some larger, unspoken plan. K.J. adjusted his grip on his bow, his heart pounding as he tried to take in the scene, feeling the danger surrounding them from all sides. The air was tense, thick with a foreboding silence as they awaited whatever was about to unfold.
They were surrounded.
A sudden surge of water exploded at the bow of the ship, sending sprays of icy droplets over K.J. and Oliver. Rising from the depths, a massive serpent revealed itself—a monstrous creature with silver scales gleaming in the moonlight. It towered above the ship, dwarfing them with a head so vast it blotted out the sky. Its tail coiled around the stern, holding the vessel captive as its head descended, bringing them face-to-face with red eyes filled with ancient fury.
"YOU!" The serpent's voice thundered, reverberating through the ship's wooden beams, shaking everything from the rigging to the deck beneath K.J.'s feet. He could feel it deep within his chest, like a drumbeat vibrating through his bones. "You dare bear the power of Auralian!"
K.J. said nothing, instinctively keeping his ground, though his heart pounded in his chest. He had no idea why this creature was calling him an "Auralian" or what it meant, but he recognized the look in its eyes—a hatred that ran ancient and deep.
"You are a blight!" the serpent snarled, its forked tongue flicking out. "A stain on this world that must be erased!"
From behind him, Oliver shouted, voice steady and defiant. "Who are you, and why are you attacking him?" But K.J. could sense the subtle shake in Oliver's voice. He'd noticed the serpent's red eyes—a glimmer of recognition.
"Oliver, that's Viperia," K.J. said softly, holding his gaze. "The God of the Sea."
Viperia's snarl widened, satisfaction mingling with its fury. "Correct, mortal." But there was something strange in the god's demeanor, a quality unlike the tales K.J. had heard. Viperia was supposed to be a merciful deity, a guardian of sailors and protectors of those lost at sea. Yet this creature bore no sign of that kindness; its gaze was cold and unforgiving.
K.J. narrowed his eyes, suspicion growing. "But... you're not truly Viperia, are you?"
The serpent's mouth twisted, baring razor-sharp teeth. "And what makes you think I am anything but who I appear to be, mortal?"
K.J. maintained its gaze, "I observed the same expression in Drakard, and once more in the Dire-Wolves. There is a strong possibility that you possessed Shiva. You may have possessed or corrupted Viperia. Why?"
For a moment, the serpent faltered, as if a veil had slipped, but then its eyes blazed with renewed hatred. "Auralian blood does not belong in this realm!" it bellowed. "You carry their cursed power!"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" K.J. shouted, his frustration and anger rising. "I'm no Auralian! I don't even know what that means!"
"Then prove it!" Viperia demanded, voice laced with contempt. It coiled closer, its body surrounding them like a cage of scales. "Show me the mark that proves your heritage!"
K.J. clenched his fists, teeth set. He didn't want to indulge the creature's demand, but a merefolk lurched forward, ripping at his vest and shirt, revealing the skin beneath. K.J. spun around, left bare-chested as the serpent scrutinized him.
And the tattoo exposed. A circular sigil, perfectly symmetrical, lay just beneath his navel. In the center, a divide marked two halves, one aglow in a faint white-gold aura, the other dark, unlit. Crescent moons arched along each side, reflecting the night sky with an eerie beauty. Geometric lines radiated outward, with four arrows pointing in all directions—north, south, east, and west.
The serpent's gaze lingered on the tattoo, its rage momentarily softened by confusion. No sign of the Auralian mark it sought marred K.J.'s skin. The serpent's breath wavered.
"That's no mark of Auralian..." Viperia's voice wavered, a note of frustration cracking its words.
"I told you—I'm not Auralian!" K.J. shouted, his own anger flaring in the face of the god's unjust accusation. "I don't know why you're trying to twist my life into your own vendetta, but whatever you're hunting, it's not me."
The serpent's eyes narrowed with seething frustration, a flicker of doubt playing in their depths. "And yet... you carry a power that should not exist. You are an anomaly, an error in the order of things."
Beside him, Oliver took a step forward, voice fierce. "He's not the threat you think he is. Release us!"
The serpent's face twisted, but its resolve seemed shaken. With one last hateful glare, it pulled back, coils unfurling from around the ship. "You may bear no mark, but know this: your existence alone disrupts this world."
Viperia's massive head rose like a dark mountain, coiled in rage and menace, its scales glinting coldly in the moonlight. Water cascaded from its enormous form, drenching the deck and making K.J. and Oliver seem no more than ants before this ancient power. The serpent's red eyes burned into K.J., filled with an ancient loathing, and its hiss echoed like thunder.
"You should not carry this magic, the power of forbidden magic!" Viperia's voice bellowed, vibrating through the wooden planks, sending shivers through K.J.'s core.
One of the merefolk suddenly hurled a trident. Time seemed to slow as K.J.'s eyes narrowed, his instincts sharpening. He shut his eyes briefly, reaching within himself, and in a quick motion, he raised his hand, halting the trident mid-air. The weapon hung, suspended, its deadly tip glinting as if waiting for his command.
"What is the meaning of this?" Viperia's voice echoed with disbelief, its rage momentarily faltered by confusion.
K.J. felt a surge within him—an ancient power he couldn't fully comprehend. His body lifted off the ground, feet leaving the deck as he hovered, surrounded by a quiet, powerful force. His eyes snapped open, radiating an unnatural light that sent a shockwave outward. Merefolk stumbled back, and Viperia's enormous head reared slightly.
Oliver, stunned, managed only a whisper, "K.J.?"
But it wasn't entirely K.J. who answered. His voice was different—deeper, almost echoing from somewhere beyond him, filled with an authority that defied understanding. "You, who possess the power to control gods, will be cast out."
Oliver saw K.J.'s eyes, now dark purple with the faint glimmer of stars swirling within them like tiny galaxies. The strange sigil on his abdomen glowed with an ethereal light, both halves activated—one in a shining white-gold aura, the other a haunting violet with shadows dancing around it, balanced in a harmony neither he nor anyone could fully fathom.
A terrible hiss filled the air as Viperia began to uncoil its tail from the ship, preparing to strike. The vessel dipped precariously into the waves, tilting violently as the god-serpent whipped its tail high, poised for a killing blow.
But K.J. raised his hands, motioning toward the merefolk's tridents, and they all lifted into the air, pointing straight at Viperia.
"Begone, demon! Release your hold on this god!" K.J.'s voice rang out, commanding, unwavering.
"Never!" Viperia's voice thundered with defiance, an ancient power woven into its fury as it lunged forward with all its might. The serpent's massive tail arced high above, glinting under the moon's light, each silver scale reflecting like shards of broken glass. In a swift, powerful descent, the tail came crashing down with a force that could have shattered stone and split the ocean's waves.
But as it struck, a shimmering barrier flared to life around K.J., surrounding him in a dark, iridescent glow. The shield pulsed with a mysterious energy, a mix of shadow and light that danced across its surface like liquid stardust. The serpent's tail collided with this barrier, but instead of breaking through, it met an unyielding resistance—a surface that seemed soft yet impenetrable, bending the force of Viperia's attack and holding it back as if it were nothing more than a feather.
A sizzling hiss filled the air as the tail pressed against the shield, its raw energy repelled. Wisps of steam rose from where the scales touched the barrier, the intense heat radiating off the shield causing them to vaporize upon contact. Viperia recoiled, withdrawing its tail, now scorched and pocked with burned scales, as tendrils of smoke curled from the seared flesh. The god-serpent let out a piercing shriek, filled with a primal, guttural pain—a sound that echoed across the water, shaking the ship and stirring fear even in the heart of its mortal crew.
Viperia's head twisted, its red eyes blazing with a mix of hatred and disbelief, unable to comprehend this strange power that had thwarted its attack. In its anger and agony, it recoiled, instinctively retreating from the force it could neither destroy nor understand, hissing and thrashing as if to shake off the stinging pain that lingered, an affront to its divine form.
With a swift gesture, K.J. sent the tridents flying toward Viperia, each one embedding into its wounded tail, pinning it down against the floorboards.
Roaring in pure, unrestrained agony, Viperia's eyes blazed with a fury that seemed to burn hotter than the sun, its crimson gaze fixed solely on K.J. With a shuddering hiss that reverberated through the ship's planks and sent ripples through the ocean, Viperia lunged forward again, its serpentine body surging with lethal intent. Its colossal head, covered in scales that shimmered like polished steel, barreled toward K.J., jaws stretched wide, each fang as long and sharp as a blade, gleaming with a venomous sheen. The god-serpent's maw, vast enough to swallow a ship whole, descended upon K.J. like an avalanche, poised to crush and consume.
But as Viperia's deadly strike closed in, K.J. stood unwavering, his gaze steady, calm, and unyielding. There was no fear, no doubt—only a quiet, focused resolve. He raised his hand, fingers outstretched, his movements slow but deliberate, as though he were summoning something far beyond his own strength. An unseen force rippled from his palm, expanding outward, reaching out to intercept the serpent's charge. It wasn't a visible barrier this time but something more profound, an energy that pulsed with silent command.
The moment K.J.'s hand was fully extended, Viperia's head stopped mid-air, mere inches from him. The serpent's jaws remained wide open, fangs glistening, its entire form suspended as if bound by invisible chains. The air around them hummed with power, a raw, ancient magic that made the hairs on the back of every sailor's neck stand on end. K.J. held the god-serpent at bay with nothing more than his will, his hand steady, as if some primal force had awakened within him, something vast and ancient answering his silent call.
Viperia's eyes flared with rage and confusion, straining against the unseen hold, its immense muscles coiling and flexing as it tried to break free. But it was no use; K.J.'s power held it firmly in place. The god-serpent thrashed, its scales scraping and grinding against the barrier of magic, its massive tail lashing in frustration, creating waves that rocked the ship beneath them.
Viperia writhed, its eyes flashing with fear and confusion. "What is this power?" it rasped, struggling against the invisible grip that restrained it.
K.J. took a steady step forward, his gaze locked on Viperia's colossal, thrashing form. The air between them was thick with tension, crackling with energy so intense it felt like lightning ready to strike. He raised his hand, fingers trembling slightly, not from fear, but from the overwhelming power coursing through him. Slowly, deliberately, he extended his arm until his palm hovered just inches from the serpent's massive, scaled forehead. The creature's fierce red eyes bore into his, but K.J. remained unflinching, his expression resolute, as though he were reaching into the very soul of the beast.
As his hand finally touched the cool, rough scales between the serpent's eyes, a dark energy surged from deep within K.J., pulsing outward through his palm, pouring into Viperia's being like a powerful, unstoppable river. The air around them stilled for one profound, suspended moment—until a violent shockwave exploded from their contact, blasting outward in all directions. The force was immense, sending ripples through the ocean that cascaded like tidal waves, shattering the silence of the night and stripping away the mist that had cloaked the world around them.
In that split second, the entire ship shuddered as if in awe, and an eerie silence fell over the scene. From the point of contact, a dark, malevolent aura began to leak from Viperia's head, wispy and ethereal, writhing like black smoke escaping from a flame. It twisted and churned, spiraling up and away from the serpent's body, its vaporous tendrils clawing at the air as though reluctant to let go. Above them, the shadowy essence hovered, swirling ominously before it thinned and faded into the star-strewn sky, dissolving into the night as though it had never been.
The darkness left a chill in its wake, but as it disappeared, a new light gleamed in Viperia's eyes—no longer red and enraged, but softened, their depths now a serene, crystalline silver. K.J. felt the energy drain from his hand as the last remnants of the dark force evaporated. In that moment, he knew the malevolent spirit that had twisted Viperia's essence was gone, banished into the night. The serpent's great body, which had once coiled with violence, now eased, its powerful muscles relaxed as though freed from a terrible burden.
K.J. withdrew his hand, and Viperia blinked slowly, looking down at him not as an enemy but as a being in gratitude, as if acknowledging the strange but undeniable bond now formed between them.
K.J floated gently back toward the main mast, his feet hovering above the ship's deck as he drifted near Oliver. His dark, swirling eyes, still illuminated by the mysterious aura, met Viperia's silver gaze. The god-serpent's eyes held a new clarity—calm and haunted, as if awakening from a long, dark dream, remembering all it had done.
"You..." Viperia's voice echoed, deep and tremulous. "You carry the power of ancient, untold magic."
K.J. didn't answer, his voice not entirely his own as he replied, "Viperia, do you remember what happened?"
The serpent's massive head dipped in a nod. "Yes... Something forbidden took hold of me. I could not resist its will."
"You are free now," K.J. said, his tone resolute yet strangely gentle. "You will not be bound again. But heed this: something has come to disrupt the balance of Gaia's harmony. Whatever it is, it seeks to fracture the essence of our world."
Viperia's silver eyes softened with respect, a humble glow emanating from the god as he inclined his head, acknowledging the warning. With a slow, powerful ripple, he commanded the merefolk to return to the sea, leaving the ship untouched. "I owe you."
"Viperia!" Oliver's voice broke through, urgent and searching. The serpent's head turned toward him, a low, resonant groan escaping its massive jaws. Oliver took a step forward, desperation in his eyes. "What is happening to K.J.?"
Viperia looked back at K.J., then at Oliver, his gaze bearing a depth that seemed to see into their very souls. "He is something more... something Gaia itself has called forth."
"You're still not telling me anything," Oliver pressed, frustration and concern mingling in his voice.
Viperia's gaze shifted, as though contemplating ancient wisdom that mortals could barely grasp. "Prince of Astria, master of fire, if you truly wish to restore your kingdom, to bring back your father and your people, you must walk this path with him. Help him find his way to the answers, to the balance of the Sun and Moon. He is the first of his kind."
Oliver's heart stopped for a moment. "Wait... my father? You're saying he could bring my father back?"
A guttural rumble came from Viperia, almost a sigh. "He holds the power of both Light and Dark within him, Oliver. He is neither Auralian nor Umbra. But in the union of the Lunar and Sol, he may wield magic beyond even our understanding—beyond the gods themselves."
Oliver's mind raced.
The Auralians, wielders of Light magic, heal, protect, and illuminate. Their power comes from creation's essence, banishing darkness, healing wounds, and conjuring golden shields. Revered for purity and harmony, they embody the Sun and Moon.
In contrast, the Umbras, masters of Dark magic, bend shadows, summon spectral forces, and deceive with illusions. Quiet and reflective, rooted in mystery and transformation, they see darkness as a necessary balance, capable of rebirth and healing.
K.J. transcended these boundaries, holding both Light and Dark magic within. He embodied the Sun and Moon, creating a unique balance. His tattoo, a sigil divided into luminous and shadowed halves, reminded him of this balance. One side glowed with pure Light, the other dormant, waiting to awaken.
In K.J, Light and Dark coexisted, woven into his being, making him a protector and a force of change. He bridged the elemental forces, wielding harmony. His powers healed wounds or summoned shadows. Unlike the Auralians or Umbras, he wasn't bound by radiance or darkness, allowing him to touch gods and mortals.
"Find Mankee," Viperia continued, his voice deepening with urgency. "There exists an ancient tome—a record of what has been and what may be. You desire understanding, and he does too. Protect each other. He will need you more than ever." The serpent's immense form shifted as he began to descend back into the ocean. "Beware of those who seek to possess, for they will try to find him—and destroy him."
As Viperia's immense form slipped beneath the waves, the eerie silence of the night returned. The god's departure left a strange stillness in the air, as if the very ocean held its breath in the aftermath of what had just transpired. K.J., hovering in the moonlit mist, began to descend gently, his body no longer alight with that unearthly energy. His eyes, once blazing with dark purple and swirling with stars, faded back to their usual calm, warm gaze. His expression softened as the power receded, leaving only weariness in its wake.
K.J.'s descent turned into a faltering collapse, his body overwhelmed by the intense energy he had just channeled. His knees gave way, and in a swift, instinctive motion, Oliver surged forward, wrapping his strong arms around him, catching him before he could hit the deck. K.J.'s head settled against Oliver's chest, his face pale and drained, his breaths shallow but steady as he let go of the strain he had carried.
Oliver tightened his hold, cradling him as if he were something precious, his heartbeat steady and comforting against K.J.'s ear. For a moment, Oliver just held him, his fingers instinctively brushing back the damp strands of K.J.'s hair. He could feel K.J.'s exhaustion in the heavy weight of his body, his stillness like a quiet surrender. Oliver's own heart pounded in his chest, a mix of awe and fear stirring inside him. He had never witnessed such a raw display of power, nor had he realized the depths of strength within K.J. But as he looked down at his friend, all he felt was concern.
"I've got you," Oliver murmured, holding K.J. close, his own heartbeat loud in his ears as he felt the weight of what Viperia had revealed. K.J.'s face, softened in sleep, bore no trace of the powerful being that had just commanded a god. It was just K.J.—vulnerable, brave, and somehow even more precious now.
Oliver gazed down at K.J.'s face, his eyes tracing the gentle curve of his features in the moonlight. There was a tenderness there he couldn't ignore, something that ached quietly in his chest, an ache that was both soft and piercing. Viperia's words echoed in his mind, as if they'd awakened something long-hidden, a feeling he had barely allowed himself to admit. It wasn't just gratitude or friendship; it was deeper, something that reached into a part of him he hadn't known was waiting. It was both thrilling and terrifying to recognize it, to feel it swelling inside him like a tide he couldn't control.
Oliver took a steadying breath, trying to gather his thoughts, trying to ground himself amidst the unfamiliar pull he felt for the man in his arms. He held K.J. a little closer, feeling the weight of his exhaustion, the vulnerability in the way K.J. had simply let go, trusting him without hesitation. And in that trust, Oliver felt a fierce desire to protect him, to shelter him from the forces that seemed determined to harm him.
As they descended towards this cabin at the ship's bottom, Captain Rek tipped his hat, his eyes gleaming with admiration. "That lad is a sight to behold! Upon his awakening, inform him that he has earned the gratitude of every soul aboard this vessel."
Oliver nodded, a faint smile on his lips. He continued down to their small quarters, holding K.J. securely, feeling a sense of gratitude he couldn't quite articulate. He laid him gently on the bed, K.J.'s head resting softly against his chest for a final moment before Oliver let go.
