Chapter 136 Learning From Others
Elara’s POV
“Hold him down!” Queen Thalassa commanded as Drakon convulsed violently on the deck.
Black veins crawled across his chest where the Void corruption festered, pulsing like a living thing. His eyes flickered between gold and red, between the man I loved and something else clawing its way to the surface.
“It’s spreading too fast!” Faye cried, pressing her palms to his skin, ice magic flaring as she tried to slow it. “I can’t stop it!”
Through our mating bond, I felt everything. Drakon’s pain. His fear. His desperate resistance as he fought to remain himself while the emptiness tried to swallow him whole.
“Elara.” His voice was strangled, barely his own. “If I turn… if I become void-touched… you have to kill me.”
“No!” I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. “I won’t lose you. Not to this. Not to anything.”
“You have to promise...”
“I promise nothing except that we fight this together,” I said fiercely, placing my hands over his heart where the corruption burned strongest. “You’re mine. The Void doesn’t get to have you.”
I let my ice magic flow, but instead of attacking the corruption head-on, I remembered Thalassa’s words. Alone, we were vulnerable. Together, unstoppable.
I focused on our bond. Every moment we’d shared. Every argument, every laugh, every kiss. All of it real. All of it existence pushing back against nothingness.
Rainbow light flared from my hands, pouring into Drakon’s chest.
Slowly, inch by inch, the black veins retreated.
Drakon gasped, his body going still. His eyes remained gold.
“It worked,” Thalassa whispered in awe. “You pushed it back.”
“But not out,” I said quietly, knowing the truth through our bond. “It’s still there. Dormant. Waiting.”
“Then we find a permanent solution,” Thalassa said, helping Drakon sit up. “In my kingdom. We have ancient texts on Void corruption healers who’ve studied it for centuries.”
“How long until we arrive?” Drakon asked weakly.
“Two days,” she replied grimly. “Can you hold it that long?”
“I have to.”
Those two days were torture.
The corruption surged three more times, each attack more aggressive than the last. Every time, I used our bond to force it back, and every time I felt Drakon’s strength slip further away.
“You’re killing yourself,” Thorne said quietly after I collapsed from exhaustion. “That much magic will destroy you.”
“Better me than losing him,” I replied.
When we finally reached Thalassa’s kingdom, I was startled by what I saw. There was no grand capital like Oceanus, just hundreds of small villages scattered along the coast. Each different. Each alive with its own identity.
“We don’t centralize power,” Thalassa explained as we docked. “Every village governs itself. We unite only when necessary.”
“Then who’s in charge?” I asked.
“No one,” she said with a smile. “And everyone.”
She brought us to a massive amphitheater carved into the cliffs, already filled with thousands of merfolk, humans, and other beings.
“This is the Council of Voices,” Thalassa said. “Anyone may speak. Anyone may propose. Everything is decided together.”
“That must take forever,” Drakon muttered.
“Sometimes,” she agreed. “But everyone feels heard. Leaders serve because people choose them and they can be removed if they fail.”
I thought of our kingdom. Drakon ruled because he was born Dragon King. I ruled because I married him.
“Does it work?” I asked.
“We’ve had peace for eight hundred years,”
Thalassa said. “No civil wars. No rebellions.”
A young merfolk approached. “Your Majesty, the Council requests you present the visitors.”
When we entered the amphitheater, thousands of eyes fixed on us.
“I present Dragon King Drakon and Queen Elara of the Northern Kingdom,” Thalassa announced. “They seek alliance and knowledge and offer the same.”
A grizzled old merman stood. “Why ally with outsiders? The Void followed them here.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“The Void comes whether we help them or not,” Thalassa replied calmly. “The question is whether we face it alone or together.”
A young human woman stood. “They saved thousands at Oceanus.”
“Queen Cordelia died!” someone shouted.
“She sacrificed herself,” I said, stepping forward despite my shaking voice. “And I will honor that sacrifice by fighting the Void with everything I have. But none of us can do this alone.”
“And what can you actually do?” the old merman sneered.
“I can combine magics instinctively. Create barriers against the Void. And I can teach others,” I said, meeting their gazes. “But I’m also here to learn. Teach me your ways, your magic, your governance and I’ll share everything in return.”
Silence followed.
Then the young woman stood again. “I vote yes.”
“Yes,” another voice said.
More followed.
Not all, but enough.
“The Council of Voices has spoken,” Thalassa declared. “We ally with the Northern Kingdom.”
Relief flooded me.
Over the next week, Thalassa’s healers worked tirelessly on Drakon, using ancient chants, glowing crystals, and magic older than memory.
I attended council meetings, watching how decisions were debated openly instead of decreed.
“We could do this at home,” I told Drakon one night. “Give people more say.”
“It would mean giving up power,” he said.
“Maybe that’s good,” I replied. “Together, people are wiser than any single ruler.”
The healers finally succeeded, not a cure, but a seal.
“The Void seed is too deep,” the head healer said. “But the seal will hold as long as your bond remains strong.”
“It will,” I promised.
When we returned home weeks later, I expected disaster.
Instead, everything was… fine.
“The kingdom ran smoothly,” Thorne said cheerfully. “Turns out you built something sustainable.”
Pride filled me.
Then we entered the throne room.
And I turned.
Queen Morgana stood in the doorway, alive, smiling, eyes glowing Void-red.
“Miss me?” she said softly. “I’ve brought friends.”
Behind her, void-touched creatures flooded the hall.
Our kingdom hadn’t fallen apart without us.
It had been invaded.