The trek back to Oakhaven was a silent one, save for the rhythmic thud of hooves against the salt-crusted earth. The air remained heavy with the scent of brine and something far more metallic—the lingering stench of the Corruption.
Theron was the first to break the stillness. He adjusted his polished breastplate, the metal glinting faintly in the dying light. "Hey, Kaelen," he began, his voice carrying a forced bravado. "Do you think we can actually... you know. Defeat it?" He gestured vaguely toward the horizon. "My blade is ready, but hitting water isn't exactly what I trained for."
Kaelen, riding at the front beside Eirene, didn't look back. The veteran warrior's heavy shield was strapped to his back, a scarred testament to a hundred battles. "I can't say, Theron," He shrugged. "We don't know what it is yet. Rank, powers... it's all guesswork until we're in the dark. But if it follows the patterns of the sea creatures, we'll have to bait it. Drag it onto the sand where it's just a prey. In the water, it is a hunter."
Theron shook his head, a skeptical smirk tugging at his lips. "And how exactly are we going to drag it onto the sand? Ask it nicely?"
Kaelen glanced at Eirene, then gave a subtle shrug of his massive shoulders.
Lyra interjected. She sat stiffly on her mount, her pale eyes fixed on the horizon, unblinking. "Creatures that can influence the minds usually have weaker physical prowess. Their power is in the hex they cast on the mind. If we can bypass its influence, its physical form might be... vulnerable. Maybe."
Eirene nodded, her golden hair shimmering even in the gloom. "Lyra is right. But before we can bait it, we need to know what it is. We aren't diving blind."
They reached the village chief's quarters as the last sliver of the sun vanished. Silas, the aging warrior who led Oakhaven, looked up from a map as they entered. His eyes weary with the weight of his missing son visible in every line of his face.
Without a word, Eirene reached into her pocket and placed a small, salt-encrusted pendant on the wooden table.
Silas froze. He slowly moved forward, his trembling hands picking up the pendant. He turned it over, his thumb brushing a faint carving on the back. "Where?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Where did you find this?"
"on the Shore." Kaelen replied softly.
"I carved this for him," Silas murmured, his eyes glazing over. "When Elian turned twelve. He never took it off. Never."
The room fell into a heavy silence. Eirene watched the old warrior, his fingers white where they gripped the silver. "We found it near the tide line," she said softly. "Tangled in the roots of a dead mangrove. The water... it's not just black, Silas. It's alive. It tried to take Mira before we could even reach the surf. A mental pull, stronger than any beast I've encountered."
Kaelen nodded, his voice a low rumble. "There were shards of bone on the sand, bleached white. No wreckage. No sign of the others. Just the pendant and a silence that feels like a needle in the skull."
Silas eventually looked up, his gaze hardened. "You want to go in."
"We have to see what's inside," Eirene said, her voice steady. "If Elian is down there, he's not alone. We need equipment. Anything that can provide visibility and air. We can't fight what we can't see."
Silas let out a jagged breath. "Most of our gear was taken by the previous teams. Brave fools who never came back. But... there might be something left. Wait here."
He returned a short while later with a man whose skin was as weathered as a ship's hull—the head fisherman.
"You want the go into the water?" the fisherman said, his voice a low rasp. "Visibility inside is near zero. The water has turned into ink. Poisoned ink."
"We need more than just sight," Eirene pressed. "We need something that can help us breath underwater."
The fisherman led them to a nearby warehouse, a place where the scent of old rope and dried kelp hung thick. In the corner sat three hulking forms: heavy metal suits, rusted but intact. They were primitive but effective—thick iron plates, a domed helmet with a reinforced glass slit, and a heavy brass tank on the back.
"These were for the Deep-Seekers," the fisherman explained, patting a metal shoulder. "It's got a crystal housing here." He pointed to a small compartment in the chest. "A soul essence crystal [1] powers the internal air scrubbers. It'll keep you breathing, but it won't stop the pressure or the cold. And it certainly won't stop a monster from crushing you like a tin can."
Eirene ran a hand over the cold metal. "We only have three?"
"The others went down with the last team," the fisherman said grimly. "I can give you a boat, too. It's small, but it's got a crystal-driven motor. Quiet enough to move without waking the whole sea."
Author Note:
[1] A Soul Essence crystal is a transparent crystal that can be charged with the soul Essence. Used a an energy storage medium to power tools.