Tempest Bound: The Fisherman's Lure

Chapter 11: The Sunken Citadel

Seraphine felt the blackness weighy and surround her like a thick, impervious blanket. Her body weightless, like caught in a strange, timeless stream, she floated in a wide, unbounded space. She sensed merely an incredible quiet free of sound or light, which both offered peace and horror. Her fall exposed figures among the shadows as the darkness began to lift. They were flickering, ephemeral forms like fading memories swimming across the water.

Then among the black waves, a familiar face surfaced—shadowed yet precisely visible. Her breath stopped when she recognized her father, his face sad and forlorn. His eyes locked on her with a depth of feeling that contracted her chest, he reached out a hand to her.

"Seraphine..."; His voice echoed, silent space surrounding her full with dreadful echo. Though instructed, you are going for the Coral Crown. Not merely an object, but the Crown is a covenant with the sea itself.

Desperate, Seraphine stretched her fingers almost to touch his. " Father, what does that mean? What agreement is this?

His eyes softened, but the loss in them deepened. "The water never provides without asking something in return. Those who want the Crown pay a price but are looking for a power outside mortal knowledge. One price really escaped me and drove me insane.

She shivered, his words weighting down her body. And then what became of you? Her voice hardly a whisper, loaded with a mix of horror and love, she asked, why did you pursue it?

"I sought knowledge," he continued, his voice heavy. "I underestimated the Crown, but I believed I might find the secrets of the sea, understand the riddles called to me... I thought I could cover it. He paused with a stinging glance. Remember, water remembers and always gathers its due.

His body darkened and slid across her fingers like sand; the water around him started to spin, a current drawing him away. Though she battled to hold onto him, to keep him there, his vision was already fading into the night. His voice persisted, one last murmur wafting over the silence.

"My daughter, stay away from the Crown. And be ready for the price you might not find comfortable.

Heart beating, Seraphine gasped, startled awake, sat up clutching her chest. Her father's remarks kept returning to her; his caution rested over her like a weight. She could still feel the cold sea, the emptiness of the ocean pressing on her. Her skin quivering with the memory of his touch, the dream had been so real, so strong she sh trembled.

Later, as the first light of morning delicately lighted the deck, Seraphine found Rowan and Amara waiting, their features somber as though they knew the turbulence inside her. Her head still swirling from the brilliance of the picture, she moved softly toward them.

"Seraphine," Rowan said quietly, anxiety flashing in his eyes. You exude a haunting quality. Something transpired?

She shakily inhaled, her fingers only trailing the little mark on her ankle. Her voice little more than a whisper, "I... I had a dream," she whispered. "I went to see my dad." About the Coral Crown, he warned me. It costs something, he said, one I might not be ready to pay for.

Amara's eyes closed and her features sharpened with strange intensity. She said, almost to herself, "a vision." "The ocean picked to talk to you."

She glanced at her, dread and doubt wriggling in her chest. "What Does that suggest?"

Amara angled her head to look at Seraphine from a respectful but wary angle. "The river expresses its chosen ones glimpses of what is hidden through dreams, so communicating. This is a test, Seraphine—a way to find out if you are ready to face the facts lurking under its surface.

Rowan's hand rested on her shoulder, ground her, and his eyes were sympathetic. "It's rare, Seraphine," he said, softly. "Everybody does not see the ocean exactly. It implies that, should it be meant to reach you, you are more personally tied to its fate than we knew.

Seraphine nodded, her heart weighted with her father's advice. Her voice stuttering, "But what does it want from me?" she asked. "My father asserted the Crown is a bond with the water, a pact. What if it is unduly weighty? Should the price be one I cannot afford, what would happen?

Amara's eyes softened, a rare flutter of pity seen there. "The river is old; its memory spans more than we could possibly know. Not just a legacy, the Crown is a force obliged to the will of the seas. Those that hunt are destined for it; the ocean never gives without demand. You still potentially have choices, though. The choice on whether the price is reasonable rests only with you.

Seraphine turned to see Rowan nodding with a focused look. "We'll face it together," he said. "We won't allow it to claim you whatever the price or test."

Her father's words stayed in her thoughts as she felt a burst of gratitude and will. Though the Coral Crown was dangerous and the path ahead held risks, she had gone too far to turn back now. Her father's inheritance rested with her; Rowan and Amara at her side provided the will to face the sea's obstacles.

"then we go forward," she said, her voice strong despite the horror flowing under her collected front. "I have to know the truth if I can understand what my father sought and why he risked everything."

Amara raised her head, her countenance expression ins incomprehensible. "then prepare, Seraphine. On the way to the Crown, additional guards exist than merely time. Forces ready to guard the mysteries of the sea abound. They will drive you straight up to the brink and question your will. They won't save you should you trip.

Breathing firmly, Seraphine felt her heart hammer as her choice dropped over her. She remained relentless even though she had no idea what the future held or whether she was really ready for the Crown's secrets. She would meet whatever came, not thinking about cost.

As they sank down into the Abyssal Trench, the water grew darker and thicker, as though weighted down millennia. The light around them faded, and a cold fell over the air; the silence almost terrible. Then Seraphine spotted it—a massive building half-buried in coral wrapped in tendrils of sentient seaweed apparently observing their every movement—through the mist.

A city, ancient and lost, its soaring ruins like fingers reaching for the surface into the darkness. The shadows transformed to depict ghostly figures swimming across the lake, silent sentinels watching the secrets buried there.

Rowan fixed his eyes on the massive building, wonder and dread flickering in them. He said, "The Sunken Citadel," with a respectful murmur. "This is where the trip starts."

Amara nodded, her expression austere as she gestured to the massive gates covered with seaweed pulsing like a beating heart. "These walls hide the starts of The Coral Crown. Though, be advised these rivers recall all those who follow the Crown and will not welcome us.

As they approached, Seraphine felt a sudden warmth on her ankle; the mark bursting with light giving the ground an ethereal radiance. The seaweed seemed to shrink from the light, splitting to disclose a little channel as though offering her entry.

Her heart hammered as she moved, her pulse throbbing with both fear and excitement. Inside the old fortress walls, the secrets of the Coral Crown were waiting for her; she would discover the answers she had long sought for.