Rowan opened his eyes to see his deep ocean-blue iris reflecting the faint morning light. It turned into a drab smear of clouds consuming the morning light as the sky darkened more gloomily. On the Horizon's Call deck, a sliver of light appeared; Seraphine gasped in disbelief as spectral shadows were thrown. Clinging to her like salt on her skin were images of Rowan's frantic, horrified face from the night before, a frigid hand around her ankle, and contorted tendrils.
Lowering her eyes to her ankle, she felt a peculiar sensation coming from a little spiral bruise, like if a throbbing heart lay under her flesh. Every pulse promised something from below or offered a muted warning.
Rowan lay on the deck next to her, his tail hanging over the planks like a sharp, shining sword. He seemed tired; the event the night before had obviously drained his vitality. Staring eerily, his attention drifted into memories rather than the present; Seraphine felt unvoiced questions breaking in his heart. How had he survived in a world where both mortal and otherworldly entities pursued him?
Rowan opened his eyes to see his deep ocean-blue iris facing hers as if he could read her thoughts. "You must surely feel it," he said softly, almost politely.
Seraphine rapidly ran her fingertips over the tattoo, gasping. "This... this mark," she gently whispered. "How is it harming me?"
A wave of scales sparkling in the early morning light accompanied Rowan's curled tail as he pulled himself up. He answered sadly, "It's a claim." "An agreement. The ocean does not provide such markings easily. Accepting this mark suggests the ocean has seized you.
What would it even imply? Seraphine inquired, her voice wavering under what he might expose.
Rowan said, "It means you are more than simply yourself." You are linked to the ocean's strength, anger, and will. Focusing on her ankle, he took a big breath. "This mark ties you to the ancient sea forces—forces predating not just you but also your father and any mortal being able to grasp their vastness.
Questions spun in Seraphine's head. What sets me apart? I wanted nothing like this.
Rowan's gaze became wide, and his face changed from anger to compassion. You looked for it even if you didn't ask. The river discloses those who seek its mysteries and captures them in turn.
His words made her shudder. Like her, her father had hoped to find the secrets of the water, but death had other plans for him. Then it came, breaking her with puzzles she had only just started to grasp.
Could I somehow get rid of it? She begged, her voice a combination of hope and suffering.
Rowan gently shook his head. Once the water has taken you, it cannot be withdrawn. At least, you won't be able to go until it chooses.
The idea of such a restriction made her pulse beat. It seemed as if an unseen rope tied her to depths she could never reach. She thought of her father and the odd scars on his body; he, too, had been taken, and the knowledge hit her with awful clarity.
Did my father, Rowan, suffer that? her voice quivering with sadness and dread as she spoke.
Rowan's eyes were far away, as though he were pulling back memories he wanted to leave behind. "Your father..." he said, his voice becoming personal as if discussing secrets meant to be buried. As he went on, his tone became melancholy: "It devoured him alive."
Like a thick fog, the words hung heavy in the air. Her father had died seeking forbidden knowledge; she had unknowingly followed in his path. But what had he been looking for? Why endanger his life—and now hers—for potentially unimportant responses?
Rowan's expression turned wary, as though he could see her thoughts. Seraphine, please don't pursue your dreams. The ocean never forgets and never forgives.
She felt driven. She experienced the ocean's embrace and, having traveled thus far, could not turn back. Rowan, I can't help it. I must keep looking for solutions. There are no other possibilities. Whether my father is alive or not, I must move on."
Rowan gripped his teeth, his eyes wide with despair. "Then you've invited a threat upon your life that not even I can stop."
At that moment, the tattoo on her ankle started to pulse again, sending an unsettling feeling up her leg—as if a whisper were seeping beneath her skin. The emotion was both a warning and an invitation: alluring but dreadful.
Mumbling, "What's going on?" She held the rails fiercely, seeking some type of support.
"It's the call of the ocean," Rowan remarked, his voice filled with apprehension. "The mark is a waterway. It will fascinate you and drag you down into its depths.
Heart racing, she gazed upward. Its goal?
Rowan shook his head in disapproval. The immediate issue is that. It could be knowledge, power, or something so awful the human mind cannot grasp.
They fell into a deep silence. Then, from the black depths below, a terrible, guttural growl chilled her blood.
Rowan's expression became white. "We have guests."
Heart racing, Seraphine nervously looked into the inky ocean. The depths were pitch dark; the early light hardly brushed the surface. Soon, a massive, black shadow started circling the ship like a monster hunting its victim.
What is that? She said, gazing at the ship's underbelly's threatening shape.
Rowan, whose voice was almost garbled, said, "A Guardian. They guard the mysteries of the water. They hunt after anybody who might reveal them.
The water swirled and rippled as the huge shape circled again. Seraphine could barely see a sinuous form, a glimmer of awful light on its scales, and pale, ghostly eyes.
Her heart beating with both terror and excitement, she mumbled, "We need to get out of here."
Rowan shook his head in dismay as he continued to watch the Guardian. "It's impossible. You cannot escape once a Guardian has you in its sights."
Seraphine's thoughts raced. The erratic waves turned the surroundings into a nightmare where a huge monster hunted its prey without rest. The Guardian seemed to feel its claim as the mark throbbed once again—this time more forcefully.
Desperation carved in his eyes, Rowan gazed at her. You will only leave here alive if you follow my instructions precisely. To get what one wants, one has to give up something. Give up to the ocean's current.
A little pulse skipped through her. "Surrender?"
"You have already given in," he said, reaching out his hand. "Let it mix with you. Your only chance to control the water is to show you deserve its mysteries.
Though her head objected, Seraphine understood she had to concentrate on the approaching Guardian, which was already moving forward. She focused on the mark, hoping to sense its pulse and follow its lead by means of deep breathing and eye closing. The world around her started to disappear as the sound of the waves turned to a faraway murmur.
She felt a great tug, as if some unseen force from the depths were wrapping around her heart.
"Seraphine, no!" Rowan's voice sliced through the fog in astonishment. But it was already too late. She was already being drawn into a huge, unfathomable domain.
The force of the ocean ran through her veins, and at that instant she felt an overpowering mix of strength and sadness. A horrible quiet came over her as if the Guardian's scream had been muted deep within her spirit.
Her eyes eventually opened to find she was off the ship.
Though the night was dark, her eyesight remained sharp. Unsettling forms spun about her, their black characteristics locked in an unrelenting stare. Drifting in the darkness with sad eyes, her father's visage was in the center of this unsettling gathering.
His voice resonating across the sea, he said, "Seraphine, you shouldn't have followed me."
His shape melted into the darkness before she could say anything. Desperate to find him, she called out, but he was gone.
Behind her, the eager, hungry growl of the Guardian echoed ever closer.
Seraphine's pulse raced in dread as the huge monster emerged from the shadows; its icy, ruthless gaze glimmered with an unfathomable radiance. The monster that sought to devour both her life and her link to the river offered no escape.
The whole world around her collapsed as the Guardian fell, driving everything into darkness.