Aion cursed the whole world the moment he realized nearly every remedy for seasickness involved breathing.

“Relax and breathe,” the sailors had said. No one had ever mocked him this cruelly before. Were there really still people on the First Continent who didn’t know what his ability was? What was he supposed to do now? Every crewman was in the main cabin, celebrating their departure, while he had spent seventeen hours fighting not to throw up over the railing. Thankfully, no one had witnessed his humiliation.

Aion had been staring at his dinner for a while. He was starving, but every wave of nausea killed his appetite.

Grabbing a glass of wine and downing it in one go, he squeezed his eyes shut with all his might.

His stomach gave a displeased growl. Since breathing wasn’t an option, Aion tried to calm his mind, let go of thoughts about the nausea, the sea, and this cursed ship. Only after the wine kicked in and a mild buzz set in did he start to feel human again—and he tore into the food. If it came down to it, he’d eat and drink his way through the entire two-moon journey. Maybe that’s what all sailors did anyway. He sat on his bed and glanced out the porthole, closing his eyes with rIlayef for a moment.

Aion reached for the porthole. He’d probably freeze in a few minutes, but right now, he needed the fresh air.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe the nice weather, but Aion actually smiled with pleasure. He took out a pendant and studied the large blue gem. According to his mother, it held a unicorn’s tear. Aion wasn’t one for legends. Magical creatures were rare these days, and even in the past, unicorns had been more rumor than reality. He held the star-shaped amulet up to the sky. Yeah, he’d never seen anything this beautiful back home. Maybe Brina was right about the world outside the city—it really was mesmerizing. Too bad she wasn’t here to see it with him. Aion had never really longed for freedom, but right now, he felt its absence deeply.

A knock on the door forced him to close the porthole.

“Come in.”

“Your Highness, are you still awake?”

Aion blinked. The sailor’s face looked vaguely familiar. Once he stepped inside, Aion remembered—he’d seen him carrying a heavy box onto the ship earlier. He nodded slightly, noticing the tattoos.

“Captain Valder’s concerned about your condition. How are you feIlayng? My name is Ilay Elanor. I’ve been assigned as your aide.”

“How many moons are you?” Aion asked, genuinely surprised. Unlike the joking crew, Ilay seemed genuinely concerned. “Ilay, I’m only twenty, and my parents aren’t here. Just call me Aion, no titles.”

“That’ll take some getting used to,” Ilay smiled sheepishly. “Mind if I ask something personal? Is it true—your ability is that you can’t breathe? I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I’m not asking for myself, really. My friend’s super nosy.”

“Yeah, the spark gave me that gift. I can sprint for hours without stopping to catch my breath, swim underwater as long as I want—stuff like that.”

Ilay seemed like a kind and sincere guy, at least at first glance. Outside the estate, Aion hadn’t made many real friends. Just family and servants.

“What about yours? I don’t know much about the crew.”

“You’ll get to know everyone,” Ilay said with a friendly smile.

He wore a strange shirt—high collar, no left sleeve.

He rolled his shoulders and looked up at the moons. His eyes began to glow.

“My ability is absorbing and reflecting light. My nickname’s Beacon. We were all picked for this voyage because of our abilities. Your father, the Great King, made sure everyone was placed where they’re most useful.”

“Let me guess—you use your power at night?” Aion asked, and Ilay nodded.

“Exactly. I use it to signal the shore and nearby ships. I can even change the color of the glow. If we’re attacked by pirates, I shine red, for example. As long as there’s a light source—moons, stars, whatever—I can work. I hate bad weather, though. Clouds block everything.”

“That’s actually a pretty amazing ability. How bright can you get?”

If Aion had something like that, his father never would’ve shipped him off on this ‘journey.’ His nanny had a heightened sense of smell, sure—but the powers of people beyond the estate were straight-up wild. Aion almost hoped for pirates to show up, just to see Ilay in action. He couldn’t wait two moons—it might kill him from boredom.

“I can blind anyone within three meters for a few seconds if I go full brightness,” Ilay said with a grin. “So, how’s the seasickness? There’s a medic on the third ship.”

“Turns out wine’s not bad for nausea. I mean, I’ve had wine before—but I’ve never sailed while drinking it,” Aion joked.

Thankfully, Ilay understood and didn’t push the subject. Aion glanced at a large wooden tub by the bed.

“Ilay, what’s that? A bath?”

“Oh, uh… no, Aion. That’s for laundry. We only wash clothes when they’re really dirty. Gotta conserve fresh water.”

The question of where to bathe could wait. He really should’ve paid more attention during ship-life lessons. It’s one thing to be told, another to live it. Hear but not listen—that was Aion in a nutshell.

“No worries. We won’t be washing stuff in your cabin. It’s just the biggest space available.”

“Got it. So how long have you been a sailor? You like it?”

“I’m only a couple moons older than you.”

Aion winced, and Ilay quickly corrected himself:

“Than you. I used to grow vegetables—did pretty well, actually—but sailing pays better and is way more exciting. You’ll find your calling, I’m sure. Someday your nickname will strike fear into sailors everywhere.”

“Right now, it only scares my father,” Aion muttered.

He turned back to the porthole. The sky still amazed him—but the water caught his attention now.

“Is it normal for the sea to bubble like that?”

“Thank goodness Azel isn’t here with one of his dumb jokes.”

Ilay rushed to the porthole—and froze. The water near the left side, closer to the other ships, was foaming and bubbling—and it was spreading.

Ilay was a good sailor, no doubt, but quick thinking wasn’t his specialty. That was someone else’s job. He had to raise the alarm. Good thing Aion had noticed. Ilay just hoped this was some harmless natural phenomenon. Gilem had mentioned underwater volcanoes once. Either way, there was no time to waste.

He bolted out of the prince’s cabin.

“What’s happening?! Ilay!”

But the sailor didn’t respond. Aion turned back to the window—and saw a storm rising. He didn’t know much about the ocean, but he knew this wasn’t normal. He wasn’t going to stay trapped in his room like a prisoner. He downed a few more gulps of wine to fight the nausea and made for the deck.

Sailors were shouting and running everywhere. Aion didn’t recognize many of them—except one guy he remembered hanging around Ilay on land, now yelling at another crewman. The cheerful mood had turned into full-blown chaos. They were only eighteen hours into their journey.

Pushing through the panic, Aion spotted Ilay.

“Ilay!”

No response. And then Aion saw why. He followed his gaze—and froze.

Where the water had been bubbling, a blue glow now burned. A second later, a massive tentacle burst from the water, reaching for a nearby ship. A drop of rain hit Aion’s nose, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up. Were storm clouds forming?

More tentacles emerged. Aion counted thirteen… Thirteen massive tentacles, each at least two meters thick, reached for the neighboring ship, tearing it apart. Their color shifted from bright green to dark blue—like they were signaling something. The huge suction cups glowed blood red. Someone shoved Aion, snapping him out of his daze. He didn’t know what it meant to “catch your breath,” but he was pretty sure this was close.

He grabbed Ilay by the arm.

“Tell me you’ve got a color for this! Say yes!”

“I’ve got a color for everything, Aion. And I’ve got orders too. Step back or you’ll go blind.”

Aion backed off. A moment later, the whole deck lit up with a blinding blue light. Ilay’s eyes and every tattoo on his body were glowing now. Aion had never seen anything like it. The light peeled off Ilay like sentient flames. For a second, he forgot there was a monster trying to kill them.

A pair of strong hands pulled him back. He turned—and saw the guy from earlier, Ilay’s friend. Despite the chaos, the guy was smiling like he was actually enjoying this.

“My sweet Ilay’s giving it all he’s got. Don’t stand too close! Doris is already screaming about her eyes,” he pointed at a sailor, then turned to the beast. “That’s a kraken with thirteen tentacles. They usually have eight. Name’s Gilem. And we’re probably dead. This thing’s fast enough to wipe out a few ships. My guess? Its young are nearby. Or its master…”

“How do you know all this? What’s it trying to do?” Aion glanced between Gilem and Ilay. “I promised my mother I’d stay safe, but how the hell do I keep that promise when a monster attacks on day one?! Fine. Time to catch my breath. We got any options here?!”

“We’re not equipped to take down something that big. The expedition prepared for pirates and eight-tentacle krakens, but thirteen? That’s unheard of.”

“What does the blue light mean? Ilay said he had different colors.”

Gilem rubbed his chin, watching Ilay, then turned to Aion.

“Talk. No secrets. We’re all in danger.”

“Blue means retreat. We’re trying to head east, to the Island of a Thousand Wishes. Big enough to avoid a siege. But it’s at least an hour away,” Gilem exhaled. “Three ships might hold out twenty-four minutes. Add travel time—that’s forty minutes. If the wind were in our favor, maybe. But like this? Slim odds.”

“How do you know all this?”

One ship fired a glowing green cannon at the kraken—and missed. All ships were mobilizing, thanks to Ilay.

“How many people here have powers?”

“Eight hundred and one total.”

Aion’s eyes widened. Then again, a ship like Golden Dragon needed a huge crew. The other ships were half the size.

“My power? I remember everything. Perfect memory. But it messes with my thoughts. I ramble. Like now—you know Ilay used to grow vegetables? Did you know plants grow best under red and blue light? He chose blue to suggest returning to origins. Retreat. That’s why Redlai wants to kill me. And Risa. And a bunch of others.”

“So we’re running? Just abandoning all those people to die?! Our ship’s the biggest—surely we’ve got people who can help take the beast down?! Answer me, Gilem.” Aion’s fear turned to rage. “I won’t let my nickname turn into ‘coward.’ Sorry, Mom. Turn the ship. Full speed ahead.”

“You have a death wish?” Gilem didn’t even look surprised. He’d figured Aion wouldn’t last long. Normally, this kind of decision came from the captain—Valder—but there was no time.

“We’re not trying to win,” Aion said. “Look—monster’s wrecked two ships. Storm’s coming. You talked about wind? Look!” He plucked a hair and let it go—it floated toward the kraken. “We head straight for it. Use momentum to strike. Anyone on board with abilities to boost the impact?”

“You’re crazy—but fun! Short-lived, but fun!” Gilem clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve got someone who can ignite the dragon figurehead, another who can boost its weight… Sina can sharpen the prow. If we play it right, the beast dies—and we might make it to another ship. Helm! Full speed, ramming course! Prince’s orders!”

Gilem rushed to Ilay, who had collapsed in exhaustion. Two burly sailors carried him off. Aion watched as Gilem ran about, barking orders, arguing with another crewman. Eventually, the man glanced over, his eyes burning bright with power. Impressive—and a little terrifying.

But not as terrifying as the ship charging full speed at the kraken.

“Well, Brina… travel’s so cool, right? Screw this world, its magic, and its dumb monsters. Burn it all.”