The storm hit without warning, its ferocity unlike anything the crew had ever seen. There had been no signs of a storm on the horizon, no whispers of a tempest this devastating. The sky darkened, and waves towered like giants over the ship.

“Anyone who knows air magic, help put out the fire and steer the ship starboard!” Ambrose's commanding voice pierced the chaos. His shout snapped everyone from their frozen panic, and three sorcerers immediately rushed to his side, directing gusts of wind to douse the flames and help the captain regain control.

“Everyone else, get below deck! Healers, tend to the wounded—” Ambrose began, but his voice was drowned out by a sickening roar as a massive tentacle burst from the sea. It wrapped itself around Hamford, who had been struggling to raise the sails. The dwarf let out a startled yell as the creature yanked him into the air.

A scream tore from Nix’s throat, his heart pounding in terror. This can’t be happening. It’s just supposed to be a simple trip to the Magic Academy—like my parents, like my sisters. But this was far from any normal voyage.

Ambrose acted swiftly, drawing his sword with practiced precision. He sprinted up the rigging to the highest point on the ship, then launched himself from the mast, plunging his blade deep into the writhing tentacle. The beast screeched and thrashed, releasing both Ambrose and Hamford, sending them hurtling into the churning sea below.

Nix raced to the edge of the ship, eyes scanning the dark, turbulent waters. His heart hammered in his chest, adrenaline surging through his veins. Something stirred deep inside him—a power he hadn’t felt before. He had no idea where it was coming from, but the urge to act was undeniable.

Without hesitation, Nix threw himself into the icy waters, ignoring the panicked shouts from the crew. The ocean was merciless, tossing him about like a rag doll. But he pressed forward, determined to save them.

The sea felt alive, pulling him in every direction, but Nix focused on where he had last seen Ambrose. With a surge of energy he didn’t understand, he dove beneath the surface, cutting through the water with unnatural speed. Below, in the murky depths, he saw them—Ambrose and Hamford, unconscious and sinking fast toward the ocean floor.

Nix swam to them, grabbing both with surprising strength. He kicked upward, pushing them toward the surface with everything he had, but exhaustion quickly set in. His limbs felt heavy, and his vision blurred. No... not now. It was just like in his dream—the suffocating pressure, the darkness closing in.

I can’t fail. But his strength was fading. The cold crept into his bones, his body threatening to shut down. His mind screamed at him to keep going, but everything went black.

King Caelus sat in the throne room, his expression cold and unyielding. Before him stood Captain Sylas, visibly shaken and fidgeting under the weight of the king’s gaze. The captain cleared his throat, trying to steady himself before speaking again.

“As I said, Your Highness, the storm came out of nowhere. In my 35 years at sea, I’ve never seen anything like it. Not even my father—nor his father before him—saw a storm of such ferocity.” Sylas wiped his brow with a handkerchief and tucked it back into his coat, hands trembling.

“The crew did everything they could to hold the ship together,” Sylas continued, his voice wavering. “Even Hamford, the dwarf, who hadn’t spoken a word the whole trip, was up there raising the sails. But then... a sea monster appeared. It grabbed him right off the deck.”

“A sea monster, Captain?” the king’s advisor scoffed, his brow raised in skepticism. “Are you certain you weren't seeing things?”

“I swear on my life, Your Highness, I’m telling the truth!” Captain Sylas’s voice cracked, his desperation palpable.

“Let him finish,” King Caelus commanded, silencing the murmurs with a wave of his hand.

Sylas nodded, grateful, and continued. “Ambrose—one of the soldiers—he went after it. Drove his sword straight into the creature’s tentacle, and the beast dropped them both into the sea.”

Murmurs rippled through the throne room, soft gasps of shock and disbelief.

The king’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. “Ambrose, you say? A young man, blonde, with ice-blue eyes?”

Sylas hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. He looked like a prince, honestly. Handsome, in his twenties. He could’ve been royalty.”

King Caelus’s expression darkened. “He is royalty. That was Prince Ambrose Kaiser, third son of King Alastor of the Seaport Kingdoms.”

The room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the whispers of courtiers. Sylas paled visibly, dread creeping into his features.

“I... I didn’t know, Your Highness. I swear, I didn’t know!” the captain stammered, his voice shaking.

“What happened next?” the king pressed, his tone sharp.

“A scrawny young sorcerer jumped in after them,” Sylas explained, his voice hollow. “I don’t know what he was thinking. He wasn’t much to look at—small, thin, not the sort you’d expect to save anyone. But he jumped into the storm like he could take on the sea itself. We lost sight of all three of them. I had to focus on getting the rest of the ship out of the storm.”

Sylas’s voice broke as he spoke, guilt and despair heavy in his words. How had it come to this? How had he lost a prince? And what was a prince doing on the ship, pretending to be a common soldier?