Kaelen woke the next morning not to the oppressive, stagnant heat of Solaria, but to a gentle, steady moisture in the air. He sat up, his heart pounding, his hand instinctively reaching for the empty sheath at his hip. The loss of the Sun Blade felt like the amputation of a limb.
But the world outside his tent was different. The hazy orange sky of the previous day had given way to a brilliant, almost shocking blue, scattered with soft, high clouds—a sight unseen in Helios for five years. More astonishingly, a soft, soaking dew covered the parched earth of their coastal camp. A faint, earthy scent, like long-forgotten rain, filled his nostrils.
His soldiers, usually grim and stoic, were outside the tents, staring upward in stunned silence.
"Your Highness!" Valerius rushed over, his usual military stiffness replaced by confusion and awe. "Look at the sea! And the sky! The wind has changed! We've had five years of relentless offshore wind driving sand into the deserts. But this... this is a true sea breeze!"
Kaelen walked out and stared at the ocean. It was no longer a vast, unsettling expanse of blackness. The waters near the shore were a vivid, shimmering emerald green, and small, silvery fish were visible, jumping in the gentle morning waves. The energy that had been oppressive and fearful yesterday was now simply... vibrant.
The Sea Witch had kept her word. The Heart of the Abyss had not drowned them; it had healed the world.
And then, the second, more terrifying realization hit him. It wasn't just the air and the land that had changed. A sensation, cold and powerful, slipped into his consciousness. It wasn't a thought or a voice, but a wave of profound relief, followed by utter, bone-deep exhaustion. It was a foreign, feminine emotion, laced with the sharp, clean taste of salt and copper.
He recoiled, clutching his head, a wave of vertigo washing over him.
"Prince Kaelen, are you well?" Valerius steadied him.
"I..." Kaelen struggled to breathe, trying to isolate the intrusive feeling. It was Lysandra. The binding ritual, the mingling of the Sun Blade's essence with her own, had created the Soul Tide. He was connected to her. He could feel her current state, her weariness, and, terrifyingly, a flicker of something close to triumph.
Lysandra, back in the cavern, was still recovering, her power spent. She lay resting on a smooth, water-carved shelf of basalt, the immense glowing orb behind her now stable, pulsating with a harmonious gold and silver light.
She opened her eyes, startled. She could feel him, too—the sudden, sharp spike of his anxiety, the confusing pride he felt for the renewed air, and the deep, underlying fury over the loss of his sword.
He feels the change, Lysandra thought, a silent message instantly translated across the bond. He knows I did not lie.
You stripped me of my heritage! Kaelen's silent rage was a burning heat against her consciousness, shocking her. I will retrieve what is mine!
Lysandra sat up sharply. "Thalassa! He's coming back!"
"Mistress, he has no weapon! He cannot threaten you now," the Elder clicked anxiously.
"It is not a threat of war, Thalassa. It is the anger of the bound," Lysandra said, rising. She felt Kaelen's determination, his absolute need for retrieval, like a magnet pulling on her own heart. The bond was a two-way current.
Kaelen announced his plan simply: he would return to the caves to demand the retrieval of his blade and a full accounting of the Sea Witch's actions. Valerius pleaded with him, pointing to the renewed life in the air, arguing that the proof was clear.
"She saved us, Your Highness! Why risk angering her now?"
"She did not save us, Commander. She took the ransom and stripped me of my birthright. If she can give life back, she can certainly give me my sword back," Kaelen insisted.
He returned to the cave entrance alone, but this time, the atmosphere was less hostile. The water was warmer, and the bioluminescence cast a soothing, gentle glow. Lysandra stood waiting for him, a silver circlet of sea-ice now resting on her storm-cloud hair.
"You should not have returned so soon, Heir of the Sun," Lysandra said, her voice betraying none of the exhaustion Kaelen had felt from her through the bond.
"The debt is settled," Kaelen stated, standing just outside the threshold of the deep-sea domain. "You restored the magic. You fulfilled your oath. Now, return the Sun Blade."
Lysandra laughed—a short, clear sound like the ringing of a distant bell. "The blade is gone, Prince Kaelen. It has been woven into the core of the Heart of the Abyss. It is the gold thread that binds the elemental forces, a permanent solution. Your sword is now the world's cornerstone."
Kaelen felt a cold spike of despair. "You lied to me! You took my people's last hope and destroyed it!"
"I promised to use it to stabilize the Heart, and I did," Lysandra countered, her eyes flashing with defiance. "And look around you! The Gloom is lifting! Your kingdom will bloom again, Heir of the Sun. Your people needed water, not a fancy sword. And you needed to be humbled."
Their argument was cut short by a violent, unexpected emotional surge that slammed into Kaelen's mind: a searing, protective fear.
Lysandra stumbled back, clutching her arm. "No... it can't be."
Kaelen felt the fear, and simultaneously, he felt an immediate, involuntary need to protect her.
"What is it?" he demanded, stepping closer to her, his guard dropping entirely as the instinct of the bond took over.
"The bond... it's doing more than connecting our emotions," Lysandra whispered, staring at him, utterly unnerved. "I feel him. Your uncle. The one who truly broke the world."
Lysandra's eyes, vast and icy, fixed on Kaelen. "The Solarian magic I just released is flowing freely across the surface world. And that power has just awakened a creature your father imprisoned decades ago. Someone who knows exactly where to find the source of the magic... Amon of the Scorched Earth, your father's dark sorcerer brother."
Kaelen's blood ran cold. Amon. The name was only spoken in terrified whispers—the brother who had tried to usurp the throne and had been imprisoned for experimenting with the darker, draining aspects of Solarian magic.
Lysandra stepped fully into the cave entrance, blocking the view of the Heart of the Abyss.
"Amon is coming, Kaelen. The Sun Blade is gone, but the bond is not," Lysandra stated, her voice regaining its power and chilling resolve. "The fate of your kingdom is no longer about a trade. It is about an alliance. Amon will find the Heart of the Abyss and drain the world dry again. You and I, the Heir of the Sun and the Sea Witch, are the only ones left with the power to stop him, but only if we work together."
She reached out a hand to him, not in a treaty, but in a challenge. Her cold skin touched his palm, right over the hidden Soul Tide mark. The shock was electric, familiar, and strangely comforting.
"You lost your sword, Prince. But you gained an equal. What will you do with me?"