I hovered there, my tail fwipping at full tilt, holding me up despite my body’s desire to float down, back to the safety of The Dark. But I couldn’t retreat, not just yet, no matter how loud each and every nerve-ending in my body was screaming at me to abort the mission. No matter how much my eyes burned from being privy to The Light. 

And light it was.

True to its name, blinding white rays of sun seared through the higher portion of the sea, splitting the water into shards of crystal blue, rendering me almost sightless. Despite my plight, the pearlwort still clung stubbornly to the highest ledge of the rock walls, its tendrils reaching upwards, almost brushing the shimmering surface.

So this is why there was no consequence for the mission. This is what Shea meant when he said that the learning curve would be steep enough, punishing enough, to serve as its own repercussion. I swallowed hard, my eyes squinting through The Light, tracking the green stems as they drifted back-and-forth in the current, just big enough to obscure the surface above; obscure my line of sight, my ability to see one of them.

A human.

I despise those creatures and their massive keels; how they cut through the ocean, recreating currents with networks of nets that drag with disregard for those who lay beneath the froth. I crossed my fingers, hoping that the good will I’d been having today would carry me through the tail-end of my foraging unfazed. I don’t want my first real Quest to end with me getting churned by one of their powerful engines of destruction, ripped and torn by their turbines without a second thought.

A deep sigh escaped me.

All this for a few strands of pearlwort.

Bracing myself, I propelled upward, breaching the final layer of The Light and fully immersing myself in its glare. The water was clearer, the currents warmer, and the shadows of the Overworld swayed lazily in the distance, as if to say hello. But I didn’t have time to marvel at it. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on the prize—the plant I needed to complete this grueling task.

Grab it and go. Simple, right?

My tail rustled, twitching anxiously as I reached out to the delicate fronds before me. My fingers wrapped around the base of the pearlwort, feeling its slick surface beneath my fingers. Soft. Deceptively so. I tugged gently, but it held fast, gripping to the rock.

It would appear my bout of good luck had run out.

I tugged again, then again, then again. But nothing other than a shifting of dirt and some flecks of sand nestling in my eyes happened.

“Come on!” I half-whispered, half-yelled, mostly to myself. But something else answered.

A low rumble vibrated through the water, ripping through my body, causing every bone and muscle I had to tremor and undulate out of my control.

What in the world?

My head snapped up, and there it was—the unmistakable churning growl of a boat’s engine. The water around me trembled, waves gyrating, school of fish scattering in a panicked blur of scales and color.

Of course. 

Of course I’d be blessed with the opportunity to come in contact with the beasts of humanity firsthand. Of course I’d be the one to see with my own eyes that they are, in fact, not a rumor.

I gripped the pearlwort with all my might, tugging with a ferocity that hurt my elbow. The plant finally gave way with a sharp snap, and I tumbled slightly, right into the boat’s desired direction. Before I could dive back down to safety, the behemoth gained on me with a frightening speed, and the pressure. Gosh, that pressure. The force it generated was… insurmountable. It pulled at me viciously, as if it was angry. As if it wanted to kill me, wanted to slice me up and see what I looked like in a hundred pieces.

“Please!” I thrashed my tail, trying to fight against the current, but the boat’s engine was far too strong for my meager stats and feats. I was getting sucked toward it helplessly, and there wasn’t anything I could do besides glance up in horror, watching as the silhouette of the boat’s underside loomed over me. 

Argh! Think! Think!!

I twisted, desperately searching for a way out. My eyes landed on a nearby clutter of rocks, just large enough to hide behind.

There. I have to go there. I have to make it!

With all the strength I had left, I kicked my tail hard, propelling myself downward. The suction of the boat’s wake dragged at my body, attempting to pull me into this whirlpool of decimation, but I was relentless—I really, really didn’t want to die. Not like this! As I pushed harder, angling myself behind the swirl, my muscles burned furiously, being used in a way they had not yet been privy to. The water roared in my ears, my bones fluttered with tremors and my teeth chattered—argh. So much pressure! I can hardly stand it!

With only a moment to spare, I had careened into safety.

I clung to the rocky outcrop as the boat passed overhead, its propeller slicing through the water mere feet above me. The suction was strong—so strong—and I had to clench the edge with all my strength just to keep from being yanked back into the current. The boat’s roar and shadow lingered above me for what felt like an eternity, but, eventually, the rumbling faded into the distance, the mini whirlpool and fabricated waves disappearing with it.

The water was calm again. The danger had passed.

I let out a long, shaky breath, clutching the pearlwort close to my heart.

[Swim Skill has reached Level 4!]

…

Great, I guess.

Without another moment of hesitation, I swam down toward the relative safety of The Dark, its familiar shadows snaking around me like a comforting blanket.

By the time I returned to the camp, it was night. I swam toward Shea’s tent, pushing the fabric aside and placing my hands on the round table, heaving a heavy and dramatic huff.

“Here,” I tossed all the ingredients out in front of him, my posture slumping. “I almost died.”

Shea barely glanced up, sifting through the pile of ingredients I had gathered. “Did you now?”

“Yes! I came face-to-face with a boat! Stupid thing almost sucked me into its engine and turned into fish food.” I rubbed my temples at the memory. “But I leveled up my swim, so… worth it, I suppose.”

“Worth it for sure.” Shea said, not addressing any of my traumatized moaning and groaning. “The Overworld is unpredictable. I avoid it.”

“Not like you have a choice.” I added, watching as he cupped the ingredients in his hand and sat at one of the workbenches in the corner, right under the vials and potions. “Your path is magic, right? So no legs, no air-tolerant lungs.”

“That’s… true. But even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’m perfectly happy spending my entire life down here as a Seaspell Caster. I wasn’t born to walk on two legs. And the people up there aren’t the nicest, especially not when it comes to dealing with our kind. They’ve got tons of us trapped in zoos and labs, like we’re some sort of mindless animals.”

That was the first time I’d heard someone dismiss the idea of going to the Overworld. All my life, the importance of getting your legs, of visiting the humans above, of helping Neptune’s expansion and war efforts in each and every possible way was drilled into my head. But Shea… he didn’t care. He had power, real magic, and had a nice position in the Coral Guard. All without those extra limbs.

I dragged myself over to the bench, plopping down next to him with a yawn. Shea was already preparing the ingredients, his movements smooth and efficient. He mixed the kelp and seagrass, carefully grinding them into a paste, making me realize I should be crushing the scallop shells into a fine powder as well. It was repetitive—a nothing motion—but as I pulverized the hard calcium, I felt momentarily… happy.

I know it's silly, but I can’t stop comparing these things—these magical or medicinal or plant-based things—to Herbalist’s Haven. This felt exactly like what I imagined my player character doing each time I slapped cards down in the crafting phase, each time I placed a clay over a moss to quickly synthesize a healing elixir for myself. Now… now I was doing the same thing, but where it mattered.

I could get used to this. Honestly, I really enjoyed it! Perhaps my dream of becoming the world’s greatest Herbalist Haven’s player wasn't dead and gone. Perhaps it merely… changed its appearance, got a new look. Became something better, something I could do tangibly. Instead of upping my Herbalism Skills through matches, I could hone them here and do some real good for the world.

[Crafting Progress: 65%...]

“I saw on your Player Profile your proficiency test was administered by Lieutenant Tara. Did you like her?” Shea asked me, and I raised a brow at the strange question.

“I guess? I don’t know. We didn’t speak much outside of her saying my stats were terrible.” I replied. “She looked like she hated her job. And wanted to stab someone.”

“That’s… one way to put it. But she wants the best for her soldiers.”

“Right.” I agreed for his sake. “And why do you care?”

Shea tapped his ring finger, showing off a silver band. “Married.”

What?! Married? 

Oh, come on.

This guy was my age, already a lieutenant, and married. Could he have one-upped me any further?

“She’s actually expecting right now. So–”

“Expecting?” I interrupted, pausing mid-grind to stare at him. “Like… expecting a baby?”

“Yeah, Ridire, that’s usually what that means.”

“Wow..” Was all I could muster. I really had to stop jinxing myself. “Sounds terrifying.”

“For you, maybe. But I’m kind of excited. Or, well, I was, before Neptune decided to double his expansion efforts. My platoon doesn’t usually get sent on missions, which is good, raising-a-family-wise. But…” Shea paused, his usual cheery expression becoming thoughtful. “The tides are shifting. I have no doubt we’ll be heading into the frontlines very soon, Firth.”

Oh.

Right.

Active duty.

Silently, I finished crushing the shells, handing him the paste. I knew he could almost sense my nerves, and in response, Shea shook his head. “You’ll be fine, I promise. It’s my job to keep you safe and make sure you’re strong enough to protect yourself. 

“Well,” I watched as he mixed his ground ingredients with mine, the salve slowly taking shape. “Alright.”

The next ten minutes of crafting was spent in companionable silence, and soon my first ever Healing Salve was complete. It sat in a small jar, right on the workbench. I admired the glittery, green-blue color of the thing, noting the small inclusions of red from the kelp.

Pretty.

“There you go.” Shea said with a satisfied nod. “Not bad for your first try, considering you picked a pretty complicated recipe.”

[Side Quest: Create a Healing Salve. – COMPLETE!]

[Rewards Gained: +10 Crafting Experience Earned, Crafting Skill Unlocked..]

[Herbalism Level Up!]

Cool!

I stared at the notification with a small surge of pride. Despite everything, I had finished it! I explored, swam around, foraged, and crafted. All in the same day I took my proficiency exams.

Whoa.

Not procrastinating was kind of… worthwhile. I got more things done in the span of eighteen hours than I usually would in a month.

“Now, go ahead and rub this salve all over your cheeks. Your scales are torn up.” Shea patted me on the back, beginning to head out.

“And then what?”

“Then you go to sleep, Ridire. Training starts bright and early tomorrow—you’re going to need your rest.”

Ugh.

UGH!