Tides from the Deep - Blood Devourer

The Siren’s Song cut through the waves of the Deep, its wooden hull creaking with each swell.

The massive galleon, which had served as the stage for Professor Iakopo’s initial test, now carried a group of eager first-year students toward their first real challenge.

Talia stood at the starboard railing, her eyes fixed on the endless expanse of midnight blue waters of the Deep stretching to the horizon, with the ship’s three towering masts at her back.

The main sail bore a faded emblem whose form couldn’t be made out.

Rigging creaked and snapped taut as Professor Iakopo’s sailors, headed by Shaker, maneuvered the vessel.

Talia’s fingers traced the worn wood of the railing, wondering how long it must have been since someone minded it. It looked barely taken care of, with paint chipped and wood half-broken in several places, even though it was all enchanted.

The ship had definitely seen much better times than these.

A quick bucket of normal water would have quickly removed some of the caked salt from the planks.

The Siren Song was clearly the ship of a man who didn’t care about what he looked to in front of others.

The one funny thing about it was that with the state of disrepair of most appliances on the ship, the galleon truly lived up to its name. However, the song was a cranky melody of wood and wind groaning, punctuated by the occasional shout of a sailor or the cry of a far-off seabird.

In the distance, dark, gloomy clouds gathered.

Professor Iakopo only mentioned their destination after the two hundred students had crowded his huge galleon: Placid City.

Talia’s heart had almost exploded when she had heard the name.

It was the same city that her father had mentioned in the vision that she had witnessed in the Darkstorm Sphere.

Her mother, Yalena, had said that the secret to Dark Water resided in Placid City, in some Dark Water Well.

Talia knew the current expedition wasn’t related to the Dark Water Well.

Apparently, Professor Iakopo routinely brought all his first-year students to Placid City.

The reason?

There was a Placid Cave.

More precisely, the Placid Cave, which did exist despite its awkward naming convention, was a large, extremely Mana-rich Dungeon.

The Professor had said that he brought first-year students there every two years to clear it up.

One had to clear up Dungeons routinely because, otherwise, they would start growing infestations where the monsters would grow so strong that the natural Mana inside the Dungeon that spawned in the first place wouldn’t be enough for them to live on anymore.

And when the Mana wasn’t enough for sustenance, Abyssal Creatures started looking for more filling meals.

Humans, of course.

And, with the irony of its name not lost on Talia, it appeared that this Dungeon required a lot of maintenance.

Professor Iakopo, in his usual fashion, hadn’t revealed much more about it.

However, she had heard from other students that about twenty years prior, there had been a catastrophe of massive proportions that had essentially nearly extinguished their entire population.

Some said that only Professor Iakopo’s morbid interest in Placid City had allowed anyone to return there.

But among the current batch of students, or at least those Talia had overheard talking, no one seemed to know exactly why the man was so obsessed with the place or his connection to it.

But, if she had to guess, she doubted anything about this field trip would be truly “placid.”

Meanwhile, on the main deck, students milled about, chatting and joking. Some excitedly discussed the upcoming trial, while others looked decidedly green as they adjusted to energy at sea.

The more experienced among them even lent a hand to the crew, dusting off the basics of sailing as they went.

As the day wore on, before the cloudy sky completely enveloped the ship in its gloomy mood, the sun began its descent towards the western horizon, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink.

As Talia remained at the railing, she saw stars briefly appearing for a few minutes before the darkening sky reclaimed them with its angry clouds.

Not hungry, Talia stood on the ship’s deck as the night wore on. Her eyes eventually fixed on Professor Iakopo, who had come out of his cabin to sit alone on a solitary stool at the prow.

She wondered if the man would be the most significant barrier between her and graduation.

She leaned against a door but immediately felt her hands resting by her side, touching a rusty hinge, leaving an orange smear over her hand.

“Dammit,” she swore under her breath. “Why isn’t that bastard taking care of this ship?”

Talia’s attention returned to Professor Iakopo.

His hands rested on his knees, and his gaze seemed fixed on some distant point on the horizon.

The wind ruffled his salt-and-pepper hair, but he remained motionless, lost in thought.

What could he be thinking about so intently? Talia wondered.

Was he pondering the fate of his students, deciding who was worthy to continue their training and who would be sent home like a dog?

Or were his thoughts elsewhere entirely?

Why Placid City, of all places?

As Talia kept watching the man, curious, the Professor’s shoulders seemed to sag slightly.

For a moment, catching a light frown on his face from the side, she thought she glimpsed a flicker of emotion crossed his usually stoic face.

But the moment passed as quickly as it appeared, and his features settled back into their customary stern lines.

What made this bastard this way?

* * *

20 Years Prior

The sun shone brightly on the ship’s gleaming deck, its rays reflecting off the freshly polished brass fittings.

The vessel cut through the water purposefully, its white and azure paint pristine and with no chip in sight.

At the prow stood a Water Rider dressed in the colors of his noble family, White, Blue, and Azure.

The waves, the deep, the lighting.

The Kāne Family’s insignia.

Their ability to cross the waves with the greatest vessels.

The claim onto the Scourge of the Deep, who some clamored to be afraid of all generations of the Kāne Family.

The Azure Lighting Water, the signature magic of the main branch of the Kāne Family.

All three colors and a bolt of stylized lightning stood proud and vivid on the sail hanging from the main mast.

A young Iakopo sat on a stool on the prowl, his favorite spot to think and exchange thoughts with his Shield and Retinue.

Unlike his future self, his uniform was crisp and neat.

Beside him stood an older girl, his resemblance to Iakopo unmistakable.

Despite her intimidating stature, there was a kindness in his eyes as he looked at his younger sibling.

“Iakopo, why did we have to volunteer for this?” Hi’iaka sighed. “This is below us. South Deep? Come on. Father is probably holding Mother as she weeps for our reputation.”

“Mother’s tears might be nothing more than a good omen for this trip, Hi’iaka,” Iakopo laughed.

“Cousin,” a man roughly Hi’iaka’s age said, “we’ve just graduated, and it’s time we start giving back to the Academy. That old bastard just killed the Scourge of the Deep for the sixth time. We won’t get to the tentacled-bitch anytime soon if he doesn’t croak. We might as well tour around the fresh recruits.”

“Lukaloa, that old bastard,” Iakopo sighed, “is probably the greatest living warrior of the last one hundred years. And yes, Kaimana will likely defeat the Kraken again. He might die from old age before he dies to the Scourge.”

“So, we’re stuck with a commoner for a Principal of the greatest institution we have,” Hi’iaka sighed.

“Worse things have happened,” Iakopo shrugged, looking at the horizon. “These recent edicts that restructured the missions so Great Families can’t just rob the Academy for protection money are… smart.”

“You realize our own Family just lost a lot of resources because of Kaimana, right?” Hi’iaka said, shaking her head.

“The Great Families used to charge for clearing Dungeons in their territories that they would have cleaned nonetheless. The fact that Kaimana had the balls to tell us to take care of our business without expecting a reward each time is smart. There have been too many Spillings lately, and redirecting the resources to ensure Water Riders take missions to routinely clear up dangerous Dungeons is more than proper—it’s honorable.”

Around them, a group of other boys laughed and joked.

“Another batch of fresh recruits,” another man said, his voice deep and resonant. “What do you think, little cousin? Are you ready to show them what the strongest Chosen can do and teach them?”

Iakopo’s brow furrowed slightly, taking the question more seriously than intended.

“I’m not sure, Kainoa. The standards at the Academy... they’re not what they used to be.”

Kainoa clapped a hand on Iakopo’s shoulder.

“Give them a chance. You might be surprised.”

“I hope you’re right. Kaimana might be right about many things, but lowering the standards to recruit more Water Riders is something we might regret.”

As they kept conversing, a young woman approached.

Her long white hair was tied back in a neat braid, and her uniform matched Iakopo’s in its pristine condition. However, it didn’t sport any emblem, no allegiance to any noble family, which, for someone who had just graduated, was beyond rare—it was unique.

All students who weren’t nobles joined either a School or a Great Family’s forces.

But not this one.

No, this woman had not joined any School during her entire stay at the Academy.

Yalena’s eyes shone bright with excitement as she joined the conversation.

“There you are,” she said, settling onto a stool beside Iakopo. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Can you believe we’re actually going to the Placid Cave?”

Iakopo’s expression became tender as he turned to face her.

“Leave us alone,” Iakopo said, looking at the rest of his family.

Her older sister Hi’iaka, his Shield, and Lukaloa and Kainoa obeyed, dragging the rest of the Retinue with them.

“It’s not as exciting as your books make it sound, Yalena, trust me. We’re just there to watch the first-years during their training exercise. The Placid Cave should only have Level 10 Torpedo Snappers. At our level… what are they going to do to us?”

Yalena rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“Always the grump, aren’t you? Come on, Iakopo, where’s your sense of adventure? Didn’t I tell you about the thing…" She let her voice trail.

“I left the sense of adventure back at the Academy, along with my patience for unprepared students,” Iakopo retorted. Still, there was no real bite to his words. “As for the thing. That’s your business. I know nothing about it.”

Yalena sighed and shook her head.

“But I told you—”

“Yalena,” Iakopo said, looking around them. “Not another word about this.”

“Ok, ok,” Yalena smiled.

“I’ve got enough to worry about with these useless students Kaimana let in. I respect the man, but this…” Iakopo’s eyes went over some students who weren’t even Level 5.

“You can’t possibly know they’re unprepared,” Yalena argued. “We haven’t even tested them yet. Besides, that’s why we’re here – to protect them and guide them. Even the weakest seedling can grow into a mighty oak with the right care and attention.”

Iakopo shook his head, his expression growing serious.

“That’s a nice sentiment, Yalena, but this isn’t a garden. Being a Water Rider is dangerous work. Allowing weak candidates into the Academy isn’t doing them any favors – it’s putting their lives and fellow Water Riders at risk.”

“And who decides who’s weak and who’s strong?” Yalena challenged. “You? The Academy? Sometimes strength comes from unexpected places, Iakopo. Or would you not have allowed me into the Academy just because I’m a commoner and not a mighty noble? Because isn’t that what you’re essentially talking about?”

A moment of tension hung between them, then Iakopo’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“Perhaps you’re right, I’m exaggerating,” he conceded. “I just... I worry that’s all. I’ve seen what can happen when people are unprepared for the challenges they face out here.”

Yalena smiled, and she reached out to take Iakopo’s hand.

“I know you worry. It’s one of the things I love about you. You care so much, even if you try to hide it.”

As their eyes met, the world around them seemed to fade away.

For Iakopo, it was as if the entire universe had contracted to this single point – the warmth of Yalena’s hand in his.

At that moment, everything made sense.

All the doubts, all the fears, all the uncertainties of life.

Without conscious thought, they leaned towards each other.

Their lips met in a gentle kiss.

When they finally parted, Iakopo found himself smiling – a rare occurrence that transformed his usually serious face.

They sat on their stools, hands still intertwined, basking in the glow of love and the sun's warmth.

The sky above was a perfect, cloudless blue, stretching endlessly in every direction. Seabirds wheeled and cried overhead, their wings catching the sunlight as they soared.

“So,” Yalena said after breaking the comfortable silence, “are you nervous about being responsible for the first years?”

“Nervous? No, not exactly. Cautious, perhaps. You know how my magic works… without you, I would be a terrible steward for these students.”

Yalena squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“We’ve trained for this, Iakopo. And we have each other’s backs, right?”

“Always,” Iakopo replied without hesitation.

The afternoon sun warmed their faces as they sat side by side, lost in each other's presence.

* * *

The Present

All dredging remains of the sun had long since disappeared behind a bank of dark, roiling clouds.

Professor Iakopo sat alone on his stool at the prow of the ship.

The vessel around him was far from the gleaming ship of his memories – weathered, worn, and bearing the same scars he carried in his soul.

A storm brewed in the distance, something that he found ironic, considering that twenty years prior, before the catastrophe, he had seen the best weather of his life during the trip.

Perhaps not just the best weather.

The best company, the best mood he had ever experienced, and perhaps the very peak of his life.

Back then, he had been foolish enough to think that it was just a matter of time before his own fame would be consolidated the moment Kaimana would either die or step back, letting him face the Kraken.

But the most important thing was that he had found, outside of the nobles he so much respected, the fiercest, most powerful woman he had ever encountered back then and even up to now.

He still remembered the texture of her hair between his fingers and the soft touch of her lips.

Waves slapped against the hull with increasing force, rocking the ship in a way that would have unsettled a less experienced sailor. But Iakopo remained steady.

The thing that had upset him, that had shattered a part of him, that had dug scars deep as trenches in him, had happened twenty years prior.

And he had made it his own rolling punishment to ensure nothing like that would ever happen again.

In the distance, dark clouds roiled and churned, occasionally lit from within by flashes of lightning.

The low, ominous rumble of thunder rolled across the water, growing louder with each passing moment.

It was as if the very elements were conspiring to mirror the turmoil in Iakopo’s heart.

The Professor’s hands gripped the edges of his stool, knuckles white.

As the first heavy droplets of rain began to fall, splattering on the deck and leaving dark spots on Iakopo’s faded uniform, a low, deep rumble shook the air.

Yet still he sat, unmoved and seemingly oblivious to the approaching tempest.

It was more than thunder—this was the voice of the storm itself, a primal force of nature awakening from its slumber.

Suddenly, he felt all the anger he had felt back then while cradling the dead bodies of those who had tried doing the right thing.

He looked behind him, seeing that even Yalena’s daughter had finally left the deck with the rest of the sailors, who knew not to disturb him when storms like this got close.

A patina of tremendously potent Mana coated the deck and masts of Siren’s Song thanks to its enchantments, shielding it from what was about to come.

The ship pitched and rolled, creaking ominously as it was tossed about like a child’s toy in a bathtub.

As the tempest gathered its full fury, preparing to unleash its wrath upon the small vessel and its occupants, Iakopo raised a hand.

You took everything, Yalena.

Everything.

I am left with nothing.

Professor Iakopo punched the air beside him.

* * *

Talia kept trying to jump into her hammock. Still, the violent roiling of the ship kept throwing her against other students in her situation.

The small windows by the side of the ship were pitch dark, and the students tried not to tramp each other while getting to any piece of wood they could use to hold themselves above the mass of twisting bodies gathering on the ground.

Then, out of nowhere, the storm suddenly stopped, and the ship steadied.

The pale glare of the moon came clear from the small portholes, and all the students on the ground, including Talia, looked at each other in bewilderment.

How had that massive storm that could have torn larger galleons than this subsided so quickly?