Chapter 35 Water Magic
Lulu
The international airport rose from the coastline like a curved shell of glass and pale stone. Aqualis Haven International, the sign read in letters that shimmered faintly as if touched by moisture. Even the air felt different here—cooler, heavier, carrying the scent of salt and something faintly metallic, like magic left too long in water.
I stayed close to Caspian as we walked through the arrival hall. The others followed behind us, alert but trying not to draw attention. Warriors never truly blended in, no matter how hard they tried. There was something about their posture, the way they scanned every shadow.
Waiting near the exit stood a woman dressed in flowing blue robes, her hair braided with thin blue threads that caught the light. When her gaze found us, it sharpened immediately.
“Alpha Caspian of Sapphire Water,” she said, inclining her head. “I am Maelis, guide of the Light Water Sorcerer community. We’ve been expecting you.”
Her eyes flicked briefly to me—just long enough for me to notice the subtle hum beneath my skin, like water reacting to a tide it recognised.
“This way,” she added.
From the airport, we were taken straight to the docks. The city faded behind us, replaced by wide stretches of open water where the sea shifted from deep blue to a luminous turquoise. Anchored at the edge of the pier was a vessel unlike any ship I’d seen before.
Its hull was smooth and pearlescent, shaped as if carved by waves rather than tools. Runes glowed faintly along its sides, pulsing in time with the tide.
“The Tidemarch,” Maelis said. “She’ll take us to Isle Nerithea, where Luminara Coast rests.”
I hesitated at the edge of the dock. I’d travelled by air countless times, but this—this was different. The water stretched endlessly, alive and unpredictable.
Caspian noticed immediately.
“You alright?” he asked quietly.
“I’ve never been on a ship before,” I admitted.
His mouth twitched, somewhere between concern and amusement. “We’ll be fine.”
That confidence lasted about twenty minutes into the journey.
By the time the shoreline disappeared completely, my stomach had turned traitor. The gentle rocking of the ship grew relentless, each sway sending another wave of nausea through me. I pressed a hand to my mouth, breathing shallowly.
Caspian was at my side in seconds.
“That bad?” he asked.
I nodded, unable to speak without regretting it.
He turned sharply to Maelis. “Do you have something for seasickness? She’s pregnant.”
Maelis’s expression softened instantly. “Of course.”
She handed me a small vial filled with pale blue liquid. “Drink slowly. And it would be best if you rested in one of the inner cabins. Seeing the sea will only worsen it.”
I didn’t argue. Pride had no place here.
The cabin was small but comfortable, carved into the ship as if grown rather than built. I lay down, swallowed the potion, and let exhaustion take over. For the next two hours, the world narrowed to the slow rhythm of the ship and the steady reassurance of my own breathing.
When Maelis finally knocked, the nausea had faded to a dull memory.
“We’ve arrived,” she said.
Isle Nerithea emerged from the mist like something out of a forgotten myth. Waterfalls cascaded directly into the sea, and the island itself shimmered, wrapped in layers of enchantment. We disembarked onto a wide platform that resembled a parking area more than a port.
Maelis led us to a row of suspended boards, each lined with dozens of keys hanging from silver hooks.
She selected one without hesitation.
“This will open our way.”
At the far end of the platform stood a plain stone box, no larger than a power post. Maelis inserted the key. The stone rippled, softened, and then—quite suddenly—burst outward into a towering water gate, its surface swirling like a living mirror.
She stepped through first.
One by one, we followed.
The sensation was brief but overwhelming—cold, pressure, then release.
I stumbled forward and gasped.
We stood in the heart of Luminara Coast.
A city of pale stone and flowing water unfolded before us. At its center rose a grand castle, surrounded entirely by a vast lake that reflected the sky like polished glass. Bridges arched gracefully over the water, leading toward its gates.
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
We crossed the bridge in silence. At the castle gate, Maelis spoke briefly to the guards, who bowed and opened the doors without question.
“This is not where you’ll stay,” she explained as we passed through the outer courtyard. “The Council prefers visitors to rest first.”
The guesthouse was nestled along the inner ring of the city, overlooking the water. Simple, elegant, and quiet.
Maelis showed us to our rooms.
When I finally closed the door behind me, the exhaustion hit all at once. I unpacked slowly, setting clothes aside, placing potions where I could reach them easily.
My stomach growled.
I sighed, then headed straight for Caspian’s room.
He opened the door almost immediately. “I was just thinking about food.”
“Good,” I said. “So was I.”
The guesthouse offered a communal dining space, warm and softly lit. Sorcerers moved freely through the area, and I noticed Maelis speaking with a young sorcerer near the counter.
Caspian approached her. “Can you help us order?”
She nodded and summoned the chef, a broad-shouldered man with sea-green eyes.
Caspian spoke directly. “We’ll need something filling. Meat-based. Enough for werewolves.”
The chef grinned. “Then I recommend Stormroast Cuts, Moonroot Mash, and Silvergrain Loaves. For you,” he added, glancing at me, “a lighter broth—Tideleaf Stew.”
Caspian waved me closer. “Order with me.”
I added a few things, then Caspian said, “Also prepare meals for five more. Send word when they’re ready.”
Maelis shook her head. “We don’t deliver to rooms.”
Caspian nodded once and reached out through the mind-link. I could almost feel it—the silent connection snapping into place.
A pang of insecurity twisted in my chest. I still couldn’t do that.
Pyrrha was still gone.
The food arrived soon after. I ate slowly, savoring every bite. The flavors were rich but grounding. My shoulders relaxed because of it.
Afterward, we returned to our rooms. I barely had the energy to change before collapsing onto the bed. I closed my eyes—
And the window exploded inward.
Water surged through the glass, slamming into me with brutal force. I hit the floor hard, air driven from my lungs.
I barely had time to move before a second wave struck, sharper, colder. I pushed myself up, gasping.
Outside the shattered window, standing upon rolling waves, was a figure cloaked in dark robes. The sorcerer tilted his head. And smiled.
“Here you are, Lulu.”