Tempest Bound: The Fisherman's Lure

Chapter 15:The Ghostly Armada

The sea darkened and grew colder as they descended into the future. Seraphine's heart beat consistently; each pulse reminded her of her objective; her mark fluttered gently with a feeling that anchored her. The shadows whirled around her, mumbling whispers of life lost to the depths, of paths abandoned and ambitions wrecked by the weight of the ocean's inexorable demands.

Ghostly figures began to materialize from the blackness. Rising from the black, masts fluttered in a phantom breeze from shredded sails, hulls covered with barnacles and threads of ghostly, golden seaweed. It was a fleet, a fleet of ghostly, quiet ships drifting over the sea like lost souls searching atonement.

Rowan's face stiffened and his eyes eyed the ghostly armada warily. "This is the fleet of the missing," he added quietly. Those who sought the Coral Crown but fell short find themselves caught here, their spirits tethered to the sea.

Amara closed her eyes and her face looked confused. And directing them, the leader who ventured even into death in quest of Crown power. Captain Vus.

Approaching the lead ship, a guy moved forward from its head. Tall and arresting, his ethereal figure danced with an unreal light as his eyes fixed on Seraphine with a hunger that sent shills down her spine. Once refined and draped in trappings of wealth and power, his coat lay in tatters, the weight of many years under the earth distorting his face.

"Who dares traverse these waters?" His voice echoed deep and profoundly and held the weight of a thousand lost souls. Who among you carries the mark?

Breathing steadily, Seraphine fixed him with steely resolve. I do. I am marking good. She stretched her ankle, the symbol flickering faintly to create an ethereal radiance that seemed to sweep over the shadows.

Voss had twisted smile over his face and brilliant eyes. "Ah, the mark—a ticket, a passage back to the world of the living,," he murmured, his voice slightly strange and terrifyingly hopeful. "Give it to me, girl; I shall once more be living. We might rebuild everything lost together. Richness, power; everything the Coral Crown pledges.

Rowan drew in, his face darkening. "She came here for greed," he insisted, his voice edged with panic. She lacks what you are hoping for.

Voss's eyes shifted to Rowan, his smile fading into a scowl. Ah, the merman, he hissed in a somewhat disgusted voice. Always the faithful protector. But here loyalty is insufficient to save you. Her valuable mark could be my key to release; the Crown is mine by right.

Seraphine felt a flash of revolt, a burning within of her. "I came here to mark you or to offer you freedom from a fate you selected. You searched the Crown for riches and authority. I start looking for answers. I am not here barganding with you.

Anger twisted Voss's face, his form flitting as he closed his ghostly fists. You think of yourself as special? Your noble intentions lead you to hope the Crown will spare you. He laughed a hollow, bitter note. "Girl, intentions are not of interest to the water. The Crown will claim you since it has claimed all those who attempted to explore it.

Seraphine stayed put, her voice intact. Not here to be claimed is me. I am here to seek the truth my father sought for. Neither a means toward a goal nor a treasure for me is the Crown. It's a legacy.

Voss's voice grew softer, as his eyes fluttered with understanding. His form faltered for a moment, the rough features of his face softening as though he were recalling a time when he too had yearned for something greater. Still, the flutter of sympathy was ephemeral, vanishing as soon as it began.

"Legacy," he muttered, nearly to himself. Many have considered obligation and legacy. Still, they all reach the same conclusion at last. He corrected a sharp eye with a hand. "Join me, sweetie. With the mark, we might ride the sea itself. Think through what we might become.

Seraphine answered with a great, unrelenting clarity. none. I am not here demanding or conquering. My road is mine, and my objective goes beyond merely financial ones. Not here will be your vessel.

Voss's face twisted with fury; his ghostly form enlarged as he yelled, the force of his anger rippling the water around them. Then you will understand the fate of every one who opposes the sea! You will be shackled to these waters; your soul lost as mine has been lost will doom you to walk until the very last moment!

Rowan stro forward with keen gaze. "Enough," he said, his voice laced with authority. "Seraphine's road is not one you can steer, Voss. You lost your claim to the mark when you granted greed second choice in knowing.

Amara's voice cut through the tension, cool but faintly dangerous. "You are a shade, Captain Voss—a memory linked to these waters. Your authority is a ghost of what it once was.

Voss wrinkled and gestured fiercely at them. "Everyone you are dumb, folks. The Crown neither will pardon nor will help you from its curse. He withdrew, his form beginning to fade into the evening, but his voice persisted like a dreadful refrain over the lake. Remember, girl; every choice has expenses.

The ghostly armada began to float away and left an uncomfortable stillness in their wake as their forms melted into the darkness. A chill enveloped Seraphine, Voss's warning lingering over her like a black cloud. She knew he was right as every choice she took will have effects.

She had, however, decided on this path and would not be swayed by doubt or concern. Her father left behind the answers she needed; she would meet any obstacle, regardless of cost.

Rowan locked his steady eye on her shoulder and laid a comforting hand there. "You gave really good performance, Seraphine. Voss is a ghost trapped on his own residue of regrets. His comments are shadows; they do not set your course.

Amara nodded and slightly began to smile. "The ocean, Seraphine, respects spiritual power. Still, there will be more tests even if you passed.

Breath helped her to steady herself; Seraphine sensed a new will. Fear or spirits of people who had failed before her would not move her. Her path belonged to her and she would see it.

As they walked deeper, the water grew colder and darker, creating an uncomfortable silence over them. A reminder of the path she had choose and the bond she connected with the ocean, Seraphine's mark pulsed hardly. Then, from the shadows, a familiar creature began to show herself: a large, strong beast whose eyes gleamed with an intelligence that sent shills down her spine.

From the depths, it was the Guardian, the same one who had shaped her. It moved close, its voracious attention focused on her as though it were trying her will and dedication to her goal.

Rowan went forward, his face austere as he took an old oath using words she did not entirely understand. The Guardian stopped, its form wavering as though caught between worlds, held briefly by Rowan's words.

Seraphine corrected Rowan, wonder and questions racing inside her. Indeed, who was he and what secrets did he carry? She felt a closeness between them exceeding simple friendship, a tie formed by the will of the water.

She also realized that as they developed their road would uncover more than just Coral Crown secrets. It would expose the unwritten facts of Rowan's upbringing, the secrets binding them all, and the cost she would have to pay as well.