Tides from the Deep - Blood Devourer

Seeing Principal Kaimana was probably one of the few reasons that allowed a first-year student to enter the most famous building in the Water Riders Academy: the Spire.

Takai approached two guards dressed in full armor that covered even their faces, making them look extremely intimidating.

He didn’t know what to say. He had been pacing back and forth in front of the Spire’s entrance, eyeing the distant guards, wondering if he should simply state he was here to see Principal Kaimana or if he needed to ask them something else.

The two guards held crossed spears that barred the way to the large door leading inside the Spire.

Takai touched the hilt of the sword that Talia had acquired on his behalf with the money his mother’s herbs had fetched at the Academy.

She had not disclosed to Takai how she had gotten the sword, but Takai hadn’t questioned it.

In fact, Talia had brought him back a sword with not one, not two, but three enchantments.

The sword was enhanced for durability, sharpness, and weight, meaning that Takai’s swings would impart more force onto his enemies than the sword actually weighed.

These were the three most common and valuable enchantments a sword could possess.

So, with a hand on his newly acquired sword at his hip, he approached the two guards, as nervous and shaky as one could be.

The student who had come to tell him that Principal Kaimana wanted to see him had also mentioned that the Principal himself had apparently trained his father.

Takai had heard so little about his father, considering his mother refused to talk about him.

In fact, the only thing Takai knew about his father was that he was one of, if not the most skilled swordsman in the entire archipelago and that his name was Awa.

As Takai walked toward the guards, racking his brain on what to say, they didn’t flinch or look at him.

They uncrossed their spears, bringing them perpendicular to the ground, and didn’t address Takai.

Takai hesitated, looking at them for a few seconds.

Then, one of the guards cleared their throat and said, “Enter. Principal Kaimana is waiting for you. He’s on the fifth floor. Do not enter any other room.”

The guard had spoken without even looking at him, staring straight ahead.

So, feeling more than a little intimidated, Takai entered the Spire.

The interior of the Spire was vast and austere.

Smooth stone walls rose high above, curving inward to form the tower’s distinctive shape.

Takai’s footsteps echoed space as he walked across the polished floor.

A spiral staircase wound its way up the center of the tower, each step carved from pale blue stone.

As Takai began to climb, his hand trailing along the cool railing, he noticed tall, narrow windows set into the curved walls at regular intervals.

Through these windows, Takai caught glimpses of the Spire’s exterior and the water that lived on its surface. The water seemed alive with an inner light that cast shifting shadows across the staircase.

As he ascended, Takai paused almost at each window, amazed by the ever-changing flow of the water ever-coating the Spire.

Sometimes, the water formed intricate downward spirals; other times, it surged upwards in defiance of gravity.

The sight was unsettling.

The staircase seemed to go on forever, disappearing into shadows far above.

Takai passed several corridors with closed, unmarked doors lining the walls.

Remembering the guard’s warning, he kept his eyes forward, resisting the urge to explore.

The air grew noticeably cooler as Takai climbed higher, and a faint mist began to form around his feet. The walls here were damp, and water beaded on the stone surface.

On the fourth-floor landing, Takai paused to catch his breath.

Looking out the window, he saw that the water flow had become more turbulent, matching his rising anxiety.

The mist was thicker here, partially obscuring the view.

Pushing through his fatigue, Takai continued upward.

The fifth-floor landing came into view, a single door set into the curved wall.

Unlike the others, this door was marked with a simple silver plaque: “Principal Kaimana.”

Takai stood before the door, his heart racing.

He raised his hand to knock, then hesitated.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, but a voice came from within before he could rap his knuckles against the smooth wood.

“Enter.”

Takai’s heart almost exploded.

Then, he grasped the handle and pushed the door open, stepping into Principal Kaimana’s study.

Unlike the narrow, misty corridor that housed his study, Principal Kaimana sat in a spacious office bathed in warm sunlight.

How does sunlight get through the water?

The answer came as soon as he turned his head.

Unlike the ones Takai had looked through so far, a large window at the Principal’s back showcased only a thin layer of water.

The rest of the study had giant bookshelves lined every wall.

There were no pictures, statues, or trinkets other than the massive bookshelves, two seats in front of the Principal’s desk, and the desk at which the man was currently sitting.

Behind the desk sat the elderly Principal Kaimana. Despite his apparent frailty, an undeniable aura of power surrounded him, making Takai feel the weight of his presence in the room.

His eyes seemed to pierce right through Takai, their intensity making him feel like the Principal could see into his very soul.

“Ah, young Takai,” Principal Kaimana said, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. “Please, sit down.”

Takai moved forward, trying to keep his nervousness from showing.

As he settled into the chair, he couldn’t help but notice the absence of the weird mist in the office.

An explanation came his way as if the Principal had just read his mind.

“The thing you saw outside is not mist,” the old man said, coughing at the end and clearing his voice multiple times. “You might have felt more tired than usual when climbing the stairs because the Spire condenses the Mana across the Academy over its surface and injects it inside. Some Schools can win spots inside of it because it’s beneficial to those of a higher level to spend some time here. However, even some of the stronger Water Riders can suffer from Mana Poisoning if they stay here too long.”

“Mana Poisoning?” Takai frowned.

“You’ve never heard of it, have you?” Principal Kaimana coughed again, this time more violently, and raised a hand to tell Takai to wait this out. “Mana Poisoning,” the old man said, clearing his voice multiple times and taking out a handkerchief to clean his lips, “is what powers Abyssal Creatures. They absorb what we call Abyssal Mana.”

“Abyssal Mana?” Takai echoed.

“Abyssal Mana is a non-filtered, raw Mana that exists worldwide. How do Water Riders level up, young Takai?” The old man asked, clearly trying to get to something.

“Killing monsters?” Takai said hesitantly.

“Killing monsters,” Principal Kaimana nodded. “Killing monsters transfers their Mana onto us, empowering our bodies. But we absorb only a small part of their refined Mana thanks to our Akashic Record. If we absorbed all the power of one monster at once, we’d lose our minds and become monsters ourselves.”

“I don’t follow,” Takai said, confused.

“If you stayed too long in the Spire with a weak Akashic Record,” Principal Kaimana said gravely, “you would suffer the same fate.”

“What—”

“Anyway, you’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here,” Principal Kaimana began almost nonchalantly after such a dramatic revelation. “It’s not often that I take a personal interest in first-year students, but your case is... unique.”

Takai swallowed hard, unsure how to respond, still confused by the previous line of discussion.

“T—thank you, sir,” he managed to stammer. “I’m honored to be here.”

Principal Kaimana leaned back in his chair, studying Takai with those piercing eyes.

“Tell me, young man, what do you know about your father?”

The question caught Takai off guard.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Not much, sir,” Takai admitted. “He... he left when I was very young. My mother doesn’t like to talk about him.”

Principal Kaimana nodded slowly as if he had expected this answer.

“Your father, Awa, was once one of his generation’s most promising Water Riders. His skill with a blade was unmatched, and his potential seemed limitless.”

Takai leaned forward, eager to hear more about the man who had been little more than a shadow in his life.

Principal Kaimana’s expression grew somber as he continued.

“But Awa was also proud, perhaps too proud. He believed his talent made him invincible, above the rules and traditions that have guided Water Riders for generations.”

The Principal paused, slowly, almost feebly, getting up and giving Takai his back. He stared at the giant window behind him that essentially encompassed the entire wall.

“It was that pride and arrogance that led him down a dark path. A path that eventually saw him turn his back on everything he once stood for.”

Takai felt a chill run down his spine.

“Sir,” Takai said hesitantly, “why are you telling me this?”

Principal Kaimana turned back to Takai, his eyes softening slightly.

“Because, young Takai, I see the same potential your father once had in you. But I also see something he lacked - humility, a willingness to learn and grow.”

The old man leaned forward, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.

“That is why I’ve decided to offer you something I’ve never offered to another student in all my years at the Academy since your father.”

Takai’s heart began to race.

What could the Principal possibly be offering him?

“Tomorrow, you and your classmates will embark on a field trip to the Placid Cave in Placid City,” Principal Kaimana explained. “It’s a rite of passage for first-year students who take Professor Iakopo’s class, a chance to face real dangers and test your skills. The man has been embarking on this expedition every two years with his students. You’re lucky to have been here this year, not the next, not the one before.”

Takai nodded, having heard rumors about the trip from older students.

“Yes, sir. I’m looking forward to it?” Takai tried sounding courageous.

“Before you go,” Principal Kaimana continued, “I want to offer you a technique I’ve encountered in my travels. Consider this my great apology because I believe I had a hand in your father’s fate.”

“Principal, I—”

Principal Kaimana turned and raised a hand, immediately shutting Takai off.

“This Skill is so powerful, so dangerous, that it has never been successfully mastered by any Water Rider in the Academy’s history but once.”

Takai’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wow, was it my father?”

Principal Kaimana snorted and shook his head.

“No, young Takai. No, it was not.”

Principal Kaimana’s voice dropped even lower, filled with reverence.

“Your father couldn’t learn this. See, the technique’s name is the Heavenly Heart Rending Technique.”

He had never heard of such a technique, but even the name seemed complicated and powerful.

“This technique,” Principal Kaimana explained, “requires a heart of absolute purity, completely devoid of self-consciousness. It is said that only one with such a heart that can bear to sacrifice anything for honor and justice can hope to master it without suffering... dire consequences.”

Takai swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, unfit for such a skill.

“Consequences, sir?”

The old man nodded.

“Those who attempt the technique without the necessary purity of heart risk disfigurement, crippling injuries, or worse. It is not a decision to be made lightly.”

Takai’s mind churned.

Why would Principal Kaimana offer him such a dangerous technique?

And why now, just before the field trip to the Placid Cave?

As if reading his thoughts, Principal Kaimana continued.

“I know what you’re thinking, young Takai. Why offer you this technique if it’s so dangerous? The Heavenly Heart Rending Technique can only be passed directly to someone’s heart. Once passed, the recipient has thirty-three days to accept or reject it.”

The Principal’s eyes bore into Takai’s, filled with an intensity that made the young student want to look away.

“But here’s the catch - one cannot know their compatibility with the technique until it’s been passed to them.”

“Sir,” Takai said, his voice barely above a whisper, “I understand… like… about my father… but… why me? Why offer this to me? If my father is the Sword Demon, how can my heart—”

Principal Kaimana’s expression softened, a hint of sadness creeping into his eyes.

“Because, Takai, I see a purity of heart in you that I haven’t witnessed in a very long time. A purity that might - just might - be capable of mastering this technique.”

The old man leaned back in his chair, his voice growing stern.

“But make no mistake, young man. Even if I pass this technique to you, you must never use it if you’re not compatible with it. The risks are simply too great. No matter what the circumstances might call for. Using this technique without compatibility would mean certain doom. Death would bless those who misuse the Heavenly Heart Rending Technique.”

Principal Kaimana sighed heavily, suddenly looking every bit at his advanced age. “Sometimes, Takai, the most important lessons we learn are not about what we can do but what we choose not to do. The importance of sacrifice, to know one’s limits and price to pay for those who want to force them…”

The man didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he just took his staff and used it to awkwardly walk up to Takai, who immediately shot up from his seat.

Principal Kaimana stood before Takai, his weathered hand outstretched.

“Are you ready, young Takai? There’s no going back once I pass this technique to you.”

Takai nodded, his heart pounding.

“I’m ready, sir.”

The old man placed his palm on Takai’s chest, over his heart.

A surge of energy flowed between them, warm at first, then intensely cold.

Takai gasped, feeling as if something had taken root inside him.

As Principal Kaimana withdrew his hand, his expression changed from solemn to deeply troubled.

“Oh no,” he muttered, shaking his head. “This is most unfortunate.”

“What is it, sir?” Takai asked, a note of fear creeping into his voice.

Principal Kaimana sighed heavily.

“I’m afraid, Takai, that you are incompatible with the Heavenly Heart Rending Technique. Zero. If you were to attempt to use it, even once, it would mean certain death.”

Takai felt the blood drain from his face. “But... but why did you give it to me then?”

“I had hoped...” Principal Kaimana’s voice trailed off. He looked older than ever, burdened by regret. “I wish I could take it back, my boy. But now that the technique has been transferred to your heart, it will remain there for thirty-three days.”

The old man gripped Takai’s shoulder with one hand, making the young man flinch under the deceptively firm grip.

“Listen to me very carefully, Takai. You must not, under any circumstances, attempt to use this technique. Not even think about accepting it. The consequences would be dire beyond imagination.”

Takai nodded, trembling slightly. “I understand, sir. I won’t use it. I promise.”

Principal Kaimana’s grip relaxed slightly, but the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Good. Remember that promise, no matter what happens in Placid City or elsewhere. You’re not to use this technique under any circumstances. You would suffer a fate worse than death if you did.”

“I understand,” Takai lowered his head.

He stepped back, leaning heavily on his staff.

“However, this wasn’t all for nothing,” he continued, his tone softening. “When you return from your trip to Placid City, I will personally instruct you in the art of the sword, just as I once taught your father.”

Takai’s eyes widened in surprise. “You... you’ll teach me yourself?”

Principal Kaimana nodded.

“Yes. Your journey as a swordsman is just beginning, Takai. And while the Heavenly Heart Rending Technique may be out of your reach, there are many other paths to strength and honor.”

After a few more minutes, Takai left Principal Kaimana’s study.

He didn’t feel too weird about the Heavenly Heart Rending Technique.

Even though he wasn’t compatible with it, it had been not more than a few seconds that he had even considered himself worthy of it.

He wasn’t Talia and, despite Principal Kaimana’s words, he wasn’t his infamous father either.

He wasn’t special.

But that was fine with him.

Takai would still get the chance to learn about swords under Principal Kaimana.

Who cared about this technique?

For someone like him, learning under the Principal, old or not, was more than enough.

Takai really had nothing to prove to anyone.

* * *

Little did Takai know that far from the Academy, another conversation was taking place between master and disciple—one that would have profound implications for his future and the future of the entire Water Rider order.

Two figures stood facing each other in a cavern deep beneath the waves of the Placid City.

One was tall and imposing, his features hidden beneath a hood. Behind his back, a famous black longsword was draped in a cloth.

The other was younger, her face eager and full of anticipation.

“Lilinoe,” the hooded figure spoke, his voice low and gravelly. “Daughter, you have risen from among many to return to me and earned the honor to be my heir. Do you understand the importance of your role in what is about to unfold?”

The younger girl bowed deeply.

“Yes, Master Awa, Father. I am humbled by your choice and ready to learn all that you have to teach.”

“Good. Rise.”

Lilinoe straightened

“I am ready, Master. I will prove myself worthy of your teachings.”

A cold smile spread across Awa’s face, visible even in the darkness of the cavern.

“Are you ready to prove to me that I only have one child worth of my heritage?”

“Yes, Father,” Lilinoe said.

“Are you ready to kill your brother?” The man spoke ominously.

“Yes, Father,” Lilinoe spoke with fervor.