Tempest Bound: The Fisherman's Lure

Chapter 9:Trials of Trust

Though its warmth little affected the anxiety filling the air on deck, the Horizon's Call was softly illuminated by the light of the breaking dawn. Beside Rowan, Seraphine stood staring between him and Amara, the enigmatic sea witch whose weight touched both of them. Every stride Amara took appeared purposeful, every glance full of unspoken danger. It was impossible to ignore her silence, her half-smiles—all of which unsettled Rowan or Seraphine.

Amara was a puzzle, her goals as elusive as the water itself. Her independence had paid for her knowledge and influence—guiding advice. Still, every comment and every odd glance seemed to be a test, a challenge pushing the fragile trust between them to waver.

Rowan watched Amara and strained his eyes; his suspicion was almost physical. His voice betrayed skepticism, "So, are we going to get any actual direction, or will you continue leading us in circles?"

Amara turned slowly and began to smile just little. Her eyes gleam with challenge, although she said softly, "Impatience isn't becoming of you, merman." I promised direction, not a free pass.

Turning to Rowan, Seraphine sought to ease the mounting tension between them. She said, "Rowan, we agreed to trust her," and felt the weight of her own words as a reminder to herself just as much as to him. "Amara knows these waters... and if we're going to survive the T trench."

Rowan fixed Amara's mouth closed. "Fine," he answered, but his caution never vanished. Still, I shall be watching. Should there perhaps be a sliver of treachery?

Amara began to smile, a knowing glitter in her eyes. "I would expect nothing less," she answered, laughing tumbling through her voice. She lifted her arm and the early light illuminated the faint marks on her flesh. She said, "This map," her voice soft but firm, "is our road."

Leaching nearer, Seraphine's eyes widened as she examined the intricate markings etched into Amara's scales. Weakly shimmering symbols, lines and curves entwining in shapes that seemed to move, alive with the center of the ocean itself. It was a chart, but one unlike anything she had seen—a road to the depths recorded in a language only the ocean could comprehend.

Amara lightly but politely ran her fingers over the marks. "This map was given to me by the hand of the ocean," she remarked, her voice laced with both pride and loss. "It points exclusively to those worthy of its mysteries. Living being subjugated to the sea's will. Following it will land us at the Coral Crown. But veers off course, the sea will swallow us entirely.

Like wonder, Seraphine felt anxiety. Amara's words sank over her, a reminder of the gravity of their trip. She turned to Rowan, whose slightly softened demeanor belied his suspicion in the set of his jaw.

"What then is our next step?" Seraphine asked in a calm voice even though she felt the undercurrent of fear coursed under her cool front.

Amara stared out to the far horizon, her expression unreadable. "We explore down the Abyssal Trench more. The Coral Crown lives in the heart and surrounds energies and living forms unimaginable for humans. Only the extremely stupid or the truly brave would venture there.

Rowan laughed softly, skeptical, with skepticism. And which is we?

Amara flashed a brief, almost wistful smile. "Time will tell."

Seraphine had never traveled down the Abyssal Trench before. As they travelled further, the light dimmed and the water surrounding them grew darker, thicker as though it had weight from millennia. A huge silence above the ocean replaced the constant sounds of waves and wind, seemingly resonating with the secrets of the water. This was an uncomfortable silence.

Amara led them with a quiet, unerring accuracy; her eyes fixed on the horizon as though drawn by some invisible force. Rowan stayed close to Seraphine; his tight posture suggested his awareness in every movement. The three of them grew increasingly uncomfortable with every hour that went by—an unspoken wariness looming like a developing storm.

As they went further, Seraphine began to feel a pull—a minor but definite tug that seemed to fit her ankle mark. She felt as though the ocean itself were beckoning her ahead into the horizon.

"Do You feel this?" Amara asked suddenly, her voice kind yet laced with understanding.

Seraphine looked at her skeptically. "Feel anything?"

Amara's eyes drifted to Seraphine's ankle, where the mark pulsed just under her flesh. "The call of the ocean," she said respectfully. "It asks you, Seraphine. You have marks from this. Its attraction will intensify as we fall. It will try you and push you to the very verge. and, if thoughtless, will overwhelm you.

Rowan's gaze furrowed, his skepticism ablashed once more. And aren't you loving this? He spat, wrath skewed in his voice.Seeing her into a trap.

Amara's face kept steady and her eyes never changed. "I am dedicated to be her guide, not to shield her from the sea's hardships. The Crown demands bravery; only those who show themselves worthy will obtain it.

Seraphine softly laid a consoling hand on Rowan's arm, her pulse pounding with both fear and will. "I have to do this, Rowan," she said softly. For my father as well as for myself. All the same, given the expenses.

Rowan looked at her; his face softened but his eyes never changed in their level of anxiousness. Then we walk together, he said, his voice steady. We will face whatever comes forward together.

As the hours passed, an eerie darkness descended upon them; the Trench's shadows consumed the light until they enveloped a blackness so deep it felt as though a live being. The pulse of the water under her skin, a lullaby beckoning to her from the depths, Seraphine's eyes grew heavy and her consciousness slipped.

She closed her eyes and found her mind to wander into an unusual, vivid dream. She was floating down the waves, her weightless freedom held there. The shadows revealed a man whose face was covered yet identifiable. Her heart grabbed at her insight; there was her father, with sorrowful, warning eyes.

His voice echoed over the water as he said, "Seraphine." See the Coral Crown very closely. That costs something; you might not be ready to pay for it.

She reached out to him, grabbed his hand, but he disappeared into the night, his shape slinking like mist. Her hollow ache of hopelessness blared in her ears as she watched him go.

Her heart pounding and the dream still hanging like a shadow, she woke jolt-wise. She turned around and found Rowan and Amara right next to her, fixed on her as though they sensed her shifting.

"Are you good?" Rowan inquired, voice full of concern.

Her head still reeled, but Seraphine nodded slowly. Her voice like a whisper, she replied, "I... I saw my father." About the Coral Crown, he issued a warning. He said a price is involved.

Amara's eyes flickered with a sharper flutter of understanding. She said, "The sea speaks to those it believes worthy," softly. "Dreams are its tests and preparation tool for the truths of life. Consider this as Seraphine's symbol. a preparation exam to learn about.

Seraphine exhaled steadily, her will hardening. She was ready to find the truths her father had sought and prove herself worthy of the call of the sea even if she had no idea what lay ahead.