The sea was calm, deceptively so. Each wave that lapped against the jagged rocks whispered secrets he wasn't sure he wanted to hear. Poseidon stood at the cliff's edge, his trident stabbed into the earth, glowing faintly with power. The salt of the ocean brushed against his lips, but it didn't taste the same anymore. It was richer, deeper, almost alive.
Or perhaps it's me that's changed, he thought grimly.
Ever since Thalorin had stirred awake inside him, the water no longer felt like an element to command—it felt like a beast on a leash, restless, prowling. He could still hear that voice, low and resonant, echoing within his chest.
> You are more than a god of the sea, boy. You are the tide that drowns empires. The storm that breaks thrones. Stop fearing me, and wield me.
