The reef glimmered in morning light, alive with darting fish and the crackle of coral. Rowan waded waist-deep beside Mira, harpoon in hand. The weight of it felt less foreign now, the polished wood fitting to his grip. For once, he didn't feel entirely useless.
"Hold your stance," Luna called, her dolphin Soulkin gliding sleekly at her side. "The sea answers those who meet it without fear."
Rowan tightened his grip. He wanted to impress her, just once.
Then Mira stiffened. Todd shimmered silver at her shoulder, his tiny body darting tight circles. Her voice was sharp. "Something's wrong."
Rowan frowned, tilting his head. At first he heard only the reef — the snap of shrimp, the hush of waves. Then it came: a high, frantic whistle. Not playful. Not joyful. Desperate.
A dolphin broke the surface in a spray of foam, its body streaked red. It thrashed once before vanishing beneath.
The sea went still.
Shadows rose from the deep.
Rowan thought it was a school of fish until weapons glinted — spears of coral, jagged and cruel. Figures surged upward, half-human, half-sea. Pale skin gleamed green, hair streamed like seaweed, eyes glowed faint in the gloom.
"Thalriss," Luna hissed. She merged with her Soulkin in a shimmer of light, and in the next heartbeat she was gone from Rowan's side, a blur slicing through the water.
The raiders struck.
---
Rowan's first clash nearly killed him. A spear thrust for his chest, fast and sure. He barely managed to lift the harpoon, wood cracking against coral. The impact jarred his arms, nearly tore the weapon from his grip. Panic flared.
Then Midg pulsed through him — steady, firm. Rowan forced air into his lungs, and the salt became breath. He thrust back, the harpoon scraping across scaled flesh. The raider hissed and recoiled.
Another came from the side. Rowan spun too late — but Luna was there. She darted past, blade of coral flashing, driving the attacker away. Her dolphin streaked through the water like lightning, scattering the raiders.
Rowan blinked, heart hammering.
"Eyes forward!" Luna barked.
Rowan gritted his teeth, set his stance. This time, when a raider lunged, he parried with the shaft of the harpoon, twisted, and jabbed. The tip struck shallow but true, blood curling into the sea.
Luna moved with him, weaving in and out. She struck where he opened space; he covered where she left gaps. At first it was clumsy — Rowan too slow, Luna too quick — but with each exchange the rhythm grew. Strike, parry, thrust. His harpoon swept wide as her blade cut narrow, their movements flowing like current around stone.
For the first time, Rowan felt the sea move with him.
---
On the shore, chaos reigned.
Lyra dragged bleeding Islanders out of the surf, barking sharp orders. "You—bandages, now! You—help me hold him!" Darin anchored himself in the shallows, fists raised, forcing back any Thalriss who pushed too close. Callen paced like a caged beast, fury in his eyes.
"I can fight!" he shouted.
"You'll drown!" Lyra snapped, hauling another wounded Islander over her shoulder.
Callen spat into the sand, teeth bared, but didn't move.
---
Underwater, the fight raged.
Mira's voice rang clear. "Rowan—behind!" He spun, harpoon rising just in time to catch a strike aimed for his back. The impact sent pain shooting up his arm, but he held. Mira swept her hands, a current blasting outward to throw the attacker off balance.
Another dolphin scream split the reef. Rowan's gut clenched as he turned, helpless, to see a pod driven into a corner. Spears struck again and again until two sleek bodies stilled, blood clouding the water.
Rowan's throat tightened. He thrust forward, rage fueling him, driving a raider back with a clean strike. Beside him, Luna's eyes burned with fury, her blade cutting through the water in savage arcs. Together they pushed, step by step, forcing the raiders into retreat.
And then — silence. The Thalriss melted back into the depths as quickly as they had come, vanishing into shadow.
---
Rowan staggered ashore, harpoon heavy in his hands. His chest heaved, lungs still burning with salt. Around him, Islanders waded into the surf, pulling bodies onto the sand.
Three dolphins. Two dead. One calf, still gasping, its sleek body heaving weakly.
The Islanders wailed, keening songs rising in grief. Some dropped to their knees, hands pressed to the dead as if to children. Rowan stood frozen, shame knotting his chest. He had thought of battle, of survival. They thought of family.
Luna knelt by the calf, tears glistening in her emerald eyes. "Not this one," she whispered, pressing her hand to its hide. But the calf's breaths grew weaker, slower. Islanders began to bow their heads, already preparing for mourning.
Then Lyra stepped forward.
She shoved past two Islanders, dropping to her knees beside the dolphin. Bounty shimmered at her side. "No," she muttered, voice sharp. "Not yet."
Rowan blinked. "Lyra—what are you—"
She ignored him. Pressing both hands to the calf's slick body, she pulled. Light rippled as Bounty merged into her, not filling her with strength this time but with endurance. Her arms shook, her brow furrowed, sweat beading her skin.
For a heartbeat, nothing.
Then the calf convulsed, its eyes fluttering. Its chest rose in a deeper breath. Then another. Slowly, its flippers twitched. The shuddering eased.
Gasps rippled through the Islanders. Some fell to their knees, crying out in gratitude.
"It lives," one whispered. "By the grace of the sea, it lives."
Lyra sagged, breathless, Bounty shimmering back beside her. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. "Don't thank me. Thank the stubborn mule."
The Islanders ignored her protest, bowing, weeping. To them it was a miracle.
Rowan stared, stunned. He had never seen Lyra like this — fierce, unyielding, but gentle too. She caught his look and smirked faintly, though her eyes shone. "What? Don't tell me you thought I was all sharp edges."
Rowan shook his head, speechless.
---
The ritual began. The two dead dolphins were laid on woven mats of sea-grass, garlands of shells draped across their bodies. The Islanders sang, a keening hymn that echoed over the reef, raw with grief but steadied now by hope. Rowan listened, heart heavy, his harpoon still slick with salt.
He missed his friends, He missed them all, but here, among the Islanders, he began to understand what family meant in another form.
Luna rose at last, her grief honed to steel. She turned to the gathered crowd, voice steady though her eyes burned. "This will not stop. They will come again. And if we do not speak with them… the sea will drown in blood."
Rowan gripped his harpoon tighter. He could still see the raiders' eyes — hollow and desperate.
And he has so many questions. what was going on? What was pushing them here ? And why did they look like they were starving?