The first light of dawn broke over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow on the docks. Nix and Ambrose were already there, assisting the crew as they loaded the boat with supplies. The air was thick with a mix of excitement and tension. Captain Sylas, pipe in hand, stood by with a stern look etched onto his face. His mood was dark, his eyes shadowed with worry. Nix, noticing his demeanor, approached cautiously.

"Captain, I know you're uneasy," Nix began, trying to sound confident. "But I promise, we’ve got this under control."

Sylas shot him a sharp glance, his voice low and gruff. "I hope you do, Sorcerer. If things go wrong, the king won't hesitate to throw me in the cells right alongside that dwarf." He spat out the words, then turned on his heel, leaving Nix standing there, puzzled by his sudden hostility.

Before Nix could dwell on it, Ambrose called for him from across the deck. The prince stood bathed in the soft morning light, wearing a simple linen shirt and dark pants tucked into worn boots. He looked casual, almost unassuming, but his aura was unmistakably regal. Nix’s heart stuttered at the sight of him.

"Yes, Ambrose?" Nix answered, making his way over.

Ambrose eyed him, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned on his staff. "You promised to tell me what you're planning with this," he said, taking the staff from Nix’s hands, his gaze intent and probing.

Nix hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I think I can use the staff to channel water magic—create a whirlpool to draw the kraken to the surface. Once it appears, I’ll freeze part of it, maybe a tentacle, for proof. It’s risky, but it could work."

Ambrose studied Nix’s face, his expression unreadable. Nix, though a sorcerer, still had an innocence about him—a kind of youthful glow that contrasted with the weight of their mission. It was a dangerous plan, especially with Nix’s limited experience in water magic. 

"You could die trying this," Ambrose said, his tone firm but tinged with worry.

Nix’s gaze dropped, and he shrugged. "I have to try, Ambrose. We don’t have many options."

After a long pause, Ambrose sighed, placing a reassuring hand on Nix’s shoulder. "We’ll figure it out together. You’re not doing this alone." He squeezed Nix’s shoulder, then, surprising Nix, leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Nix jumped back, eyes wide. "Ambrose! What if someone sees?" he hissed, glancing around.

Ambrose grinned, clearly unfazed. "Let them."

Before Nix could respond, the boat’s horn sounded, signaling the start of their journey. The ship began its slow departure from the docks, cutting through the gentle waves as they headed back toward Elysia. Nix felt a strange sense of déjà vu, the eerily calm weather unsettling him. The sky was bright and clear, just as it had been the day they’d been caught in the deadly storm. Something wasn’t right.

Suddenly, the air around them shifted, becoming dense and electric. Nix’s heart raced, and his pulse quickened. He bolted to his feet, scanning the horizon.

"Raise the sails!" Nix shouted, his voice cutting through the stillness.

Ambrose was at his side in an instant. "What’s going on?" he asked, his tone sharp with concern.

Nix’s gut twisted. "We need to raise the sails—now! A storm’s coming, just like before!"

Captain Sylas stomped over, his face darkening. "I’m the captain here, Sorcerer! I’ll say when to raise the sails!"

Ignoring him, Nix began pulling at the ropes, his hands frantic as he tried to act on instinct. The air had grown heavy and oppressive, and the water beneath them seemed to tremble. Ambrose rushed to help, eyes scanning the sky as ominous black clouds swirled in the distance, rolling in faster than seemed natural.

"Listen to him!" Ambrose barked, his voice commanding the crew. "Get the sails up!"

The crew, seeing the urgency in both their faces, leapt into action, raising the sails as the wind picked up, howling and fierce. Thunder cracked overhead, shaking the boat as the first monstrous waves crashed against the hull. Sylas gripped the helm with white-knuckled determination. "If you’ve got a sea monster to summon, now’s the time!" he bellowed, his voice barely audible over the storm.

As if on cue, the water churned violently, and four massive tentacles burst from the ocean’s surface, slamming down onto the deck with terrifying force. The crew screamed, scrambling to defend the ship. Ambrose and the soldiers drew their weapons, slashing at the writhing limbs as the creature let out a bone-chilling roar. 

Nix’s hands trembled, clutching his staff tightly. His heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to steady his breathing. He began to chant the incantation Professor Ithil had given him, his voice low and steady despite his fear. The words, ancient and melodic, carried over the chaos, and as they left his lips, frost crept over the deck, spreading toward the kraken’s tentacles.

The beast let out an ear-splitting shriek as the frost hardened around its limbs, forcing them to loosen their grip on the ship. But one tentacle, larger than the rest, wrapped around Nix with lightning speed, yanking him off the deck and into the freezing water below. 

The last thing Nix saw before the dark waters swallowed him was Ambrose’s terrified face, his mouth open in a silent scream.

---

**Meanwhile, in the dungeons of Elysia…**

Hamford sat on the cold stone floor, his back against the wall, wrapped in the blanket Nix had given him. His mind wandered, thoughts drifting between the young sorcerer and the prince. He’d grown fond of them, despite himself. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Hamford sat up, eyes narrowing.

"You’re alert. That’s good," a soft, regal voice said as Professor Ithil appeared, his dark purple robe flowing around him.

Hamford frowned. "What are you doing here, elf?"

Ithil wrinkled his nose, waving a hand in front of his face. "You smell like a troll. Don’t they give you a basin to wash in down here?"

"Get to the point," Hamford grumbled, pushing himself to his feet.

The professor’s eyes twinkled mischievously. "I’m getting you out."

Hamford’s brow furrowed as he watched the elf wave a hand over the lock, the heavy metal clinking as it came undone. "Why are you helping me?"

Ithil’s expression grew serious. "There’s much to discuss, but first, you need a bath. I can barely breathe around you."

Reluctantly, Hamford followed him out of the cells, a mixture of suspicion and curiosity gnawing at him.

---

Later, Hamford sat in Ithil’s study, cleaned and dressed in a fresh navy tunic and dark pants. He looked like a new man, though he still felt like a prisoner in this unfamiliar situation. 

 “I hope you like the tea it's my favorite blend,” Ithil said warmly.

 “I’d prefer a pint or two honestly but this will do for now. So are you gonna tell me what this all about?” Hamford asked putting the cup down. 

Ithil adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his sharp gaze cutting through the haze of the room. "Tell me what happened the day the storm hit. The day Nix first encountered the kraken."

Hamford hesitated, but something about the elf’s calm demeanor put him at ease. "It was… too perfect, that day. The air felt charged, like something was brewing. And then everything went to hell."

Ithil nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Magic was at play that day, Hamford. Powerful magic. And it’s not done yet."