Echo’s boots thudded on the pier’s splintered planks, the fog of Eclipse Bay clinging to their skin like a second shroud. The Shattered Sea’s waves hissed below, a warning in every crash, but Echo’s gaze was fixed on The Tidebreaker—a scarred ship at the pier’s end, its hull glowing with blue runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. Raiven Dusk strode ahead, his red coat flapping, a grin on his face despite the Marauders’ howls echoing from the shore. “She’s a beauty, ain’t she, Spark?” he called, patting the railing. “Older than these islands, and twice as stubborn.”
Echo’s eyes drifted to the sunken wreck offshore—the Driftmaiden, its mast glowing sickly blue, matching the Marauders’ hue. The whisper in their skull surged, sharp and urgent: “Find the Lost Name.” It pulled them toward the wreck, but Raiven’s hand on their shoulder stopped them. “Not yet,” he said, voice low. “That’s cursed, and she don’t like visitors. We’ll get you there—after you prove you’re worth the trouble.”
The deck creaked as Echo boarded, the air thick with salt and magic. The crew—three figures—watched them warily. A woman with silver hair and glowing blue robes leaned against the mast, her eyes sharp. “Veyra,” Raiven said. “Our light in the dark.” She scoffed, “Another stray, Raiven? This one looks half-dead.” A boy with a lyre, Zeyn, tuned his strings nervously, offering a shy smile. “Hope you’re not bad luck,” he mumbled. The last, Korran, a hulking man, sharpened a storm-crackling blade, silent but imposing.
Raiven led Echo to the helm, where a cracked compass spun wildly, its needle glowing blue. “This navigates the Shattered Sea,” he said, tapping it. “Points to what’s lost. Found you with it, didn’t I?” Echo’s chest tightened—the glow matched the Driftmaiden, matched the whisper. “What am I?” they rasped, voice raw.
Raiven’s grin softened. “A spark, Spark. Maybe you’ll burn this sea down—or light our way. We’ll figure it out.” He turned to the crew, voice booming. “Cast off! We sail for the Driftmaiden’s wake—answers await, if the sea don’t swallow us!”
The sails unfurled, runes flaring, and The Tidebreaker cut through the waves. Eclipse Bay faded into mist, the Marauders’ howls replaced by a low hum from the sea itself. The water churned, parting to reveal a shadow beneath—serpentine, vast, with white void eyes watching them. Veyra’s voice was ice. “It’s awake. The World Eater.” Raiven’s hand gripped his blade, muttering, “Hold tight, Spark. The Shattered Sea don’t play nice.”
Echo’s heart pounded, but they didn’t look away. The whisper roared: “Find the Lost Name.” Whatever this sea held, they’d face it. They had to.
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