The sea was gentle. Its rage had been spent, its power used, and now it was a calm, loving presence. The wind whispered through the patched sail, a soft, soothing song, and the sun bathed the boat in a golden warmth that promised a new day. Tala stirred first, his body sore but whole, the bandages around his leg stiff with dried blood. The ache was a reminder, a dull throb that spoke of a battle won. Kofi lay beside him, breathing slowly, the box resting between them like a sleeping heart, its glow now a gentle, quiet pulse. They had survived.
The Leviathan's body still floated beside the boat, tethered by thick ropes. Its massive form had lost its menace. The single golden eye was gone, the life force that had given it its ancient power now at rest. It was just meat and bone now, and a memory.
Tala sat up, blinking against the light. Ahead, land shimmered on the horizon. It was not the jagged cliffs or the cursed shores they had expected. It was a place of soft hills and pale beaches, a place that looked... kind.
He nudged Kofi with his uninjured leg. "We made it."
Kofi opened his eyes, saw the land, and smiled. "We did."
They didn't speak again. The silence was not awkward but full of meaning. They drifted toward it, the boat gliding on a current that felt almost deliberate, as if the sea itself was guiding them home.
Once ashore, the boys began to work. The island was small, a quiet, peaceful place of white sand and ancient, wind-sculpted trees. They pulled the great body of the Leviathan onto the beach, the sand groaning under the weight. They butchered it with quiet reverence, a final act of respect for the creature that had tested them and taught them. The meat was dense, rich, and fragrant, and they stacked it in neat bundles, enough to last weeks.
Then Tala found it. Buried deep in the creature's chest cavity, nestled between two massive ribs, was an egg. Not a soft, fragile thing, but a hard, stone-like orb etched with the same faint symbols that had appeared on their skin in the battle. It pulsed faintly, like the box, its rhythm a quiet, living heartbeat.
Kofi knelt beside it, his hands on the shell. "It's ancient," he whispered.
Tala nodded, his hand on the box. "It's reacting."
They placed the egg near the box. The box pulsed once, then again. Then, with a soft hiss, it opened. The seal, which had never yielded before, split down the center, and the lid lifted, revealing a hollow chamber lined with the same runes as the egg. The egg rolled inside, as if drawn by invisible hands.
The box sealed itself.
The boys stared at it. They had expected an answer, a weapon, a final piece of the puzzle. But all they had was more mystery. And then Tala laughed.
Not a chuckle or a smirk, but a full, wild, breathless laugh. A laugh that came from a place deep in his soul. Kofi joined him, their voices rising into the sky like birds finally freed from a cage. It wasn't just joy. It was relief. It was released. It was the sound of children who had survived the storm, who had been broken and remade, and who were whole again.
They built a fire from driftwood and dry grass. The flames crackled, warm and bright against the encroaching dusk. They roasted the Leviathan meat, the scent rich and savory. They ate until they were full, their bodies nourished by the power of the beast.
As the sun dipped low, they began to sing. It was a song from their homeland, a soft, rhythmic tune full of longing and pride. Their voices blended in harmony, rising and falling like waves. They sang of rivers and mothers, of stars and stories, of names carved into stone. They sang not as warriors, not as princes, not as survivors. But as boys. Whole again.
As the final note faded into the dusk, a voice spoke behind them.
"That is a beautiful song you have there, son."
The boys turned. A man stood at the edge of the firelight—tall, broad-shouldered, with grey hair tied back and eyes like polished stone. He looked barely sixty, but he moved with a quiet, powerful grace, like someone who had never forgotten how to fight.
His presence was calm, but there was a palpable strength in him.
Tala's hand drifted toward his dagger. Kofi stepped forward, his eyes narrowed with a mix of suspicion and readiness.
The man smiled. "I've been waiting."