Mila — a mage, a sorcerer, and the greatest teacher Edel could have ever hoped for. Known for her innocent face and devastating powers, Mila stood as a legend among magic users. Her name was whispered with both reverence and fear, even among the oldest and wisest mages. She had turned mountains to dust and calmed seas with a whisper.
To Edel, she was more than a teacher—she was a distant mountain peak. A goal so high, it hurt to even gaze at it for too long.
Edel, though already gifted and possessing latent potential, was nowhere near Mila's level. The gap between them was like the space between the moon and the sea. Some said Edel could one day surpass Mila, but today… that day felt impossibly far.
"Edel!" Mila's voice rang out sharply, just as Edel's body slammed across the stone floor of the training hall.
She hit the wall hard, ribs rattling. Dust and pain swirled in her lungs. Dazed and breathless, she coughed and struggled to stand, using the wall for support. Her legs trembled under her, but she refused to collapse. The world tilted for a moment—then righted itself.
Across the hall, Mila hadn't moved from her place. Her stance was composed, arms folded. Her face, unreadable. But her eyes—there it was. The flicker of worry, quickly buried under discipline.
Edel understood the look. Concern was a weakness Mila refused to indulge. If Edel wanted to train under her, she had to endure. Bruises. Failure. Pain. She had to treat them as stepping stones, not barriers.
She had grown up in cold streets and colder palaces—under the watchful eyes of the Sea Emperor, her grandfather. She was no stranger to hardship. A few broken bones wouldn't be her undoing.
That day, she barely survived her first lesson under Mila.
But she learned. She learned spells that twisted light, techniques that bent wind, theory that made magic less mystery and more science. And now, slumped in the only wooden chair in the vast, echoing hall, sweat and dust coating her skin, she felt something familiar… a presence.
Footsteps.
She didn't look up until she heard the voice.
"Missy."
The word froze her heart.
It was him.
Tom.
The man she had once pulled from the brink of death in the forests near Kurn. A man her father had trusted more than most. A man her grandfather loathed.
He stood tall, yet humbled. His robe was worn, his boots muddy from travel. He bowed deeply.
Edel stood up with effort, brushing herself off.
"Why are you here?" she asked, surprised. "You know my grandfather would—"
"I know," Tom interrupted softly. "But this time… I didn't come on my own. The Sea Emperor sent me. He ordered me to meet you."
The words stunned her. Her grandfather? Ordering Tom? That didn't make sense.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Why would he do that?"
Tom hesitated. His gaze dropped to the stone beneath his feet. The silence that followed was louder than any answer he could've given. He had something to say. Something important. But he couldn't—or wouldn't.
Edel moved her fingers subtly, and with a quiet whoosh, the heavy doors of the training hall sealed shut behind him.
Her voice hardened.
"Tom. Don't play games with me." Her eyes glinted. "You remember what happened to my father. How he vanished. How my mother was left without word, with nothing but silence and blood in the palace halls. I asked you years ago—and you said you didn't know."
Tom flinched at the memory. At the weight of the truth.
"I still don't know everything," he said, his voice hoarse. "But what I've learned… it's not something I can say here. Not safely."
"Then make it safe," Edel snapped. "You owe me."
A single tear slid down her cheek, and her voice cracked. She wiped it away roughly, angry at herself for breaking.
Tom looked up—and for the first time, saw not a child but a storm. The daughter of Marina and Lionel. The granddaughter of Neptune. She was still young, but there was fire in her that could one day devour kingdoms.
He opened his mouth.
But he never got the chance to speak.
BANG.
The hall doors were forced open with a loud slam.
"Mistress, it's training time." Eva's voice cut through the tension like a blade. She strode in, carrying two swords—one for her, one for Edel. Her face was as stone-cold as always, unreadable. But her eyes flicked once toward Tom with mild interest.
Edel froze, caught in the moment. Tom used it. He bowed quickly and turned to leave.
She didn't stop him.
But before stepping out, he paused at the doorway.
"Missy… they were beyond our reach," he said without turning. "Whether by power or by magic. But for now… they are alive."
Then he was gone.
Edel stood in stunned silence. A strange mix of relief and dread churned inside her. Alive. It was more than she'd dared hope for.
"Mother… Father…" she whispered. "I'll find you soon. I swear."
She lifted her head, her posture changing. Her spine straightened. Her hands clenched. Her breath steadied.
Her eyes began to shift—bright blue, flickering into fierce orange, then back again.
Eva saw it. Her grip on the sword tightened.
"Edel!" she snapped.
Edel's eyes cleared instantly. She smiled and bowed.
"Master."
Even Eva flinched at the title.
"You've changed," Eva said flatly. "Good. From today, you are my only student. But I'm not here just because of your grandfather."
Edel tilted her head in confusion.
"You'll understand in time. You're not ready yet." Eva's voice lowered. "Also… the annual competition. You're banned."
"What?" Edel blinked. "Why?"
"Three years. No entry. That's final." Eva turned away. "You need time. Training. Control."
Thus began Edel's second awakening.
Years passed in silence and steel. She trained under Eva's blade, under Mila's spells. Day by day, her body became stronger. Her mind sharper. Her heart… colder. Her childhood was something she buried under sweat and magic circles.
Her grandmother was a distant memory. Her grandfather, Emperor Neptune, visited once every few months, asking if she needed anything—but rarely staying long.
Tom was never seen again.
But he hadn't vanished.
He had been taken—by a devil who prowled the Sea Emperor's own shadow. Tortured. Shaped. Broken. Forced to forget and remember at once. A devil who wanted only one thing: Edel.
And somewhere, far away, in a forgotten corner of the world…
Two souls clung to life.
In the cold, dark cell that stank of rot and rust, Marina lay on her side, unmoving. Around her were the corpses of once-loyal guards and friends. Only a few breathed—barely.
"Marina… drink my blood. Please." Lionel knelt beside her, cradling her body.
She hadn't eaten in months. She had refused food, drained herself casting spells through sealed walls—reaching for Edel. Protecting her. Even imprisoned, even tortured, she refused to let the darkness win.
Lionel, broken and weeping, kissed her forehead.
"I'll tell them. I'll tell them where you hid her. Just… don't leave me."
"N… no," she whispered.
Tears ran down his cheeks.
Their chains rattled as another scream echoed from a nearby cell.
They had been forgotten by the world.
But not by their daughter.
Three years later.
The world had changed.
Whispers of Edel's return flew like birds on wind currents. Every kingdom—from the Vampire courts to the skybound elves—waited.
It was the year of the Grand Tournament, held this time in Ghama—deep in Vampire territory. The stadium was carved into the cliffs, suspended over a mist-covered abyss. The matches would begin at night, under starlight and moonfire.
Among the crowd were merfolk from deep oceans, werewolves from the Moon Isles, witches, seers, humans, elves, dragons in disguise.
"Coral, are you sure she'll show up?" Finn asked nervously, eyes scanning the arena.
"I didn't say she would. I said I heard… rumors," Coral replied, flushed.
"Mira?" Finn turned.
Mira only smirked.
From behind them, Azure remained quiet, arms crossed, golden eyes half-lidded. Observing.
"Coral?" Mira pushed again.
"Shhh. You'll get me executed."
"Why?" Finn blinked.
"Because I heard it from my grandfather. And if the Sea Emperor finds out I told anyone—"
The crowd roared as a new announcement echoed across the coliseum:
"This year, each category will crown one winner—Magic, Spells, Combat, and Aid."
"But this year… there will be one more fight."
A hush fell.
"The four winners will face a special participant."
Gasps. Confusion. Excitement.
"The special participant is sixteen years old… and was chosen by the High Council."
Silence.
Then whispers. Shouts. Cheers.
Finn's hands trembled.
"It's her," he said.
Coral looked at him.
"It's Edel."
And far beneath the earth, in a rotting cell, two grey eyes fluttered open.
"She's… coming."