"He dreamed of ruling the tides, but in the end, he was only driftwood claimed by the very depths he helped unleash."
The gates of the Fae Castle loomed before me like the jaws of a waiting beast. I stepped into the courtyard, the scent of ironwood and storm still clinging to my cloak. The wind whispered along the marble pillars, but the stillness was unnatural and only silence, too sharp and expectant to be peace. Then came the voices, accusing and outraged, a dozen at once.
"You betrayed us, Ardanis!" They yelled.
"Traitor!" They added.
I turned slowly, lifting my head as the Council emerged from the shadows. Robes of silver and green flared with each step, weapons drawn, magic pulsing through their veins. At their center stood Warden Myrrien, face hard as the cliffs of Nyllore, her blade already bare, its edge gleaming with Fae fire.
"You opened the gates to the Deep One," she spat. "You let the tides poison our waters."
