Read Eclipse Era: The Forgotten Realms :: Chapter 7: Shattered Reflections

The Shattered Sea lay eerily still after the leviathan’s fall, its surface a mirror reflecting the crimson-black eclipse above. The crew gathered on The Tidebreaker’s cracked deck, the air heavy with salt and the lingering scent of void magic. Echo sat apart, near the bow, their cracked blade resting across their knees. The memory shard’s weight pressed on their chest, the woman’s scream echoing in their mind—her smile, her trust, the storm that tore their past crew apart. “I… led them to their deaths,” they murmured, their voice barely a whisper, echoing Thorfinn’s hollow resignation: “I’ve no foes left to name. Purpose dissolved in the void.” The words hung in the air, a confession that left Echo’s hands trembling, their gaze lost in the sea’s depths.

Raiven approached, his red coat flapping in the faint breeze, his eyepatch glinting in the rune-light. He sat beside Echo, his presence a steady anchor. “You’re not that captain anymore, Echo. You’re our spark now,” he said, his voice warm but firm, echoing Edward Elric’s encouragement: “Rise and stride through the abyss—you’re fierce enough to shatter your own fate!” Echo looked at him, their eyes searching his for a truth they couldn’t find within themselves. Raiven’s grin widened, and he clapped their shoulder, his touch grounding them in the present, pulling them from the abyss of their guilt.

Veyra worked near the helm, her silver hair catching the faint glow of her light runes as she repaired the hull. Her movements were tense, her jaw tight, and she paused, her hands trembling as a memory surfaced—her brother, laughing as they sailed together, before a void storm claimed him and their crew. “I’ve seen the Shattered Sea claim too many,” she admitted, her voice breaking, raw with grief. “Those who do not understand true pain can never understand true peace,” she whispered, echoing Pain, her eyes distant as she traced a rune, her fingers lingering on the glowing lines as if they could bring him back. The crew fell silent, the weight of her loss a shared burden.

Zeyn, sitting cross-legged with his lyre, strummed a soft Calm Echo, the notes a gentle balm against the tension. He looked up, his shy smile breaking through his usual nervousness. “Well, we’re still here, right? That’s gotta count for something!” he said, his tone light, echoing Usopp’s shaky courage: “I’m not brave! But I’ll keep standing up, because I’ve got people counting on me!” The crew chuckled softly, the sound a flicker of warmth in the cold aftermath of battle. Raiven ruffled Zeyn’s hair, earning a playful swat, and for a moment, the Tidebreaker felt like a home.

Korran, who had been silent, sharpening his storm-blade near the mast, finally spoke, his voice a low rumble. “I seek the Stormheart—a relic to end the void storms. My village was destroyed by one… I won’t stop until I find it,” he said, his eyes burning with purpose, echoing Kurapika’s vow: “There are things worth more than my life.” The revelation shifted the air, the crew seeing Korran in a new light—a man driven not by stoicism, but by a quiet, unyielding resolve to protect what remained.

The moment of unity was shattered as the World Eater’s voice boomed in Echo’s mind, its presence a cold weight: “Your name will unravel all timelines, Echo. Seek the Void Anchors—they bind me to this sea.” Its tone dripped with cosmic arrogance, echoing Doflamingo: “Victory decides truth from lies! Those who triumph rewrite the cosmos!” The compass on the helm spun wildly, pointing to a jagged island in the distance. Echo stood, their resolve hardening, their voice steady: “I’ll find these anchors—not for fate, but for those I’ve lost.” They gripped their blade, the name Echo etched into it a promise they intended to keep.