"A wedding under the sea," Arista mused dramatically, twirling in the water with her hands clasped. "So romantic. We'll need pearl streamers, kelp lanterns, maybe even singing dolphins—"
"There is no wedding!" Ariel practically wailed, her face buried in her hands, voice muffled by embarrassment.
"Oh, there will be," Adella chimed in cheerfully. "I mean, come on. Look at him." She gestured to Lucian with a sly grin. "He's got that mysterious brooding charm. The kind you write love ballads about."
Lucian, still standing calmly in the center of the room, observed the chaos with the same impassive look. Internally, however, his mind pinged with alerts from the system:
[Ding! You have met a special character: Attina.]
[You have obtained a Rare Blind Box.]
[Ding! You have met a special character: Alana.]
[You have obtained an Uncommon Blind Box.]
[Ding! You have met a special character: Aquata.]
[You have obtained an Uncommon Blind Box.]
[Ding! You have met a special character: Adella.]
[You have obtained an Uncommon Blind Box.]
[Ding! You have met an special character: Arista.]
[You have obtained an Uncommon Blind Box.]
And the notifications kept scrolling.
Lucian mentally closed the interface with a thought. 'Not now.'
"Well, at least he's better than Prince Thor," Aquata said, breaking through his thoughts.
"Oh seaweed, Thor," Adella groaned.
"Ugh," Alana rolled her eyes. "The guy flexed his biceps at the last banquet and shattered a coral glass. Who does that?"
"And did you see the way he talked about himself in the third person?" Arista snorted. "'Thor needs more sea grapes.' 'Thor lifts conch stones for fun.' Like, okay, Thor, calm down."
"Andrina literally choked on a sea biscuit from laughing when he tried to flirt with Ariel," Aquata added dryly. "His idea of a compliment was 'Your tail fin is passable.'"
Lucian tilted his head. "Thor?"
"Well he's a prince" Attina said with a note of distaste. "Son of King Augustus of Olympia. He visits every year. Tries to woo one of us."
"He can't even remember our names," Alana said. "Last time, he called me Algae."
Ariel let out a long, muffled groan into her hands.
Just then, a ripple in the water signaled a new presence. A small, stately seahorse zipped through the chamber, bowing mid-swim.
"Princesses," he said, voice formal. "His Majesty, King Triton, requests the presence of your guest in the throne hall."
The room went silent.
Adella floated up, eyes wide. "Oh my pearls. He's meeting Dad."
Ariel shot upright. "Already?!"
"He never summons guests personally," Aquata whispered.
"Not unless he wants to—" Arista made a slicing motion across her neck.
"Arista!" Ariel hissed.
Lucian nodded politely to the seahorse. "Please, lead the way."
_____
The path to the throne hall was a long corridor lined with glowing anemones and mural windows showcasing ancient sea battles and grand royal processions. As Lucian swam with a silent Ariel and her sisters flanking him, he could feel the eyes of guards and attendants sizing him up.
Then the vast coral doors opened.
The throne hall was majestic—a dome of crystal and shell with pillars shaped like giant spiraling conchs. Shoals of silver fish circled overhead in synchronized patterns. The water here thrummed with an ancient presence. At the far end, on a grand throne carved from shimmering obsidian coral and rimmed with golden kelp, sat King Triton.
Muscular, regal, and emanating authority, Triton had a long flowing beard of seafoam-white, and his crown pulsed with deep oceanic power. His trident rested beside him, glowing faintly with contained magic.
Lucian's system pinged again:
[Ding! You have met a special character: King Triton.]
[You have obtained a Special Blind Box.]
The king's gaze settled on Lucian like a tidal weight—not hostile, but undeniably powerful.
"Lucian," Triton rumbled, his voice like distant thunder beneath the waves. "I've heard much about you."
Lucian bowed his head slightly. "Your Majesty."
"I see now why my daughters have been buzzing like reef gnats."
Behind him, Adella gasped. "Dad!"
Triton chuckled, eyes crinkling. "Peace, Adella. I only speak the truth." He turned his gaze back to Lucian. "You arrived in our realm without fanfare, and yet the tides shift in your wake. That… is rare."
"I don't seek to disrupt your kingdom," Lucian replied evenly. "Only to understand it."
"A wise answer," Triton said, rising slightly from his throne. "Yet you carry something… old. Something long forgotten."
Lucian said nothing.
Triton stepped down from the dais, and the guards stiffened, but he waved them off. He floated before Lucian, inspecting him closely. Then, he glanced at Simba, tucked under Ariel's arm and snoring softly.
"A merlion," Triton murmured. "Interesting... very interesting."
A low tension filled the hall.
But then, Triton smiled. "All the more reason to speak further. I would be honored if you joined me for a royal dinner tonight. As a guest of Atlantica."
Lucian inclined his head. "I accept."
"Excellent," Triton said, turning back toward his throne. "You'll dine beside my daughters. There are things we must discuss… the past, the sea, and perhaps… your place in it."
_____
After the audience with King Triton, Lucian was quietly escorted through Atlantica's coral-formed corridors. The walls pulsed with soft bioluminescence, casting flowing light across the oceanstone carvings and pearlescent mosaics. Eventually, they stopped at a chamber shaped like a spiraled nautilus shell.
"This will be your room for now," one of the guards said with a respectful nod before swimming away.
Lucian pushed open the door and floated inside.
The interior was luxurious in an underwater sort of way—soft anemone-silk bedding arranged atop a coral-framed bed, drifting curtains woven from kelp strands, and seashell sconces that glowed like moonlight. There was even a gently bubbling spring in the corner, casting a quiet, meditative gurgle through the space.
He set Simba down gently on the bed. The baby merlion yawned, gave a sleepy chirp, and nestled into the folds of the bedding. Within moments, he was fast asleep.
Lucian took a moment to float there, letting the quiet sink in. He was still adjusting to the sensation of a tail instead of legs—the way his body moved, the water pushed against him differently, even his balance felt… alien. Not in a bad way. Just unfamiliar.
He let out a breath and called up his status window with a thought.
[Lucian Westergaard]
[Age: 18]
[Race: Tideborn]
[Racial Skill: Tideborn Shift]
[Abilities: Draconic Empathy, Stealth, Unarmed Combat, Weapon Adaptability...]
[Passive Abilities: Soothing Voice]
[Unlimited Box: Special Box (1x), Rare Box (1x), Uncommon Boxes (4x)]
---
He blinked at the number of unopened boxes. "Right… the sisters."
He drifted toward the edge of the room, where a shelf-like ledge of coral gave him space to work. He figured he'd start with the uncommon ones, save the rare and special for last.
Focusing on the first box, he willed it open.
[Congratulations! You have opened the Uncommon Box from Adella and gained: Dragon Conch Horn.]
[Dragon Conch Horn: A mystical conch that can only be bound to a Tidal Class dragon. When blown, its sound reaches the ears of the bonded dragon no matter the distance, summoning it to the user's location.]
A polished conch appeared in his hands, streaked with violet and blue swirls that glinted with runes. The moment he touched it, he felt a quiet pulse of energy—and a familiar presence.
Scauldy.
The conch shimmered slightly, and a name etched itself across its surface.
[Bound Dragon: Scauldy]
Lucian's eyes widened. "So it's like a summoning tool…" he murmured. "Guess I've got a dragon whistle now."
He was tempted to try it right then and there, just to see... but thought better of it. The last thing he needed was a massive tidal dragon crashing into the royal palace.
Setting the conch aside, he moved to the next box.
[Congratulations! You have opened the Uncommon Box from Arista and gained: Tidal Harmony Ring.]
[Tidal Harmony Ring: Emits a passive aura that calms aggressive aquatic creatures.]
A delicate silver ring with an aquamarine gem appeared in his palm. It felt cool to the touch, like ocean spray. Lucian slid it onto his finger and immediately felt a subtle ripple pass through the water around him... an aura of serenity.
"That'll be helpful… especially if I run into more of those deepwater predators."
He continued, opening the next box with a breath.
[Congratulations! You have opened the Uncommon Box from Alana and gained the skill: Ripple Step.]
[Ripple Step: Allows the user to run on the surface of the water. However, stopping or walking will immediately submerge the user.]
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Water running?" He chuckled. "Alright, now that's flashy."
He could already picture iy, chasing down enemies across a moonlit ocean, or zipping between ships. It definitely had its uses.
Onto the next.
[Congratulations! You have opened the Uncommon Box from Aquata and gained a passive skill: Sea Breeze Hair.]
[Sea Breeze Hair: Your hair always looks effortlessly windswept and ocean-fresh. Saltwater does not dirty you, and your scent is faintly reminiscent of sea foam.]
"…Okay. That's new."
Lucian ran a hand through his hair, which now seemed to flow with an elegant, tousled perfection, no matter how the currents moved. He caught a faint scent—fresh, clean, almost like the ocean after a storm.
"Well, if nothing else… that's one less thing to worry about."
Finally, the last box, the one he'd saved for last. The rare one from Attina.
He focused, and the system responded.
[Congratulations! You have opened the Rare Box from Attina and gained: Mini Dimensional Satchel.]
[Mini Dimensional Satchel: A small, enchanted storage bag lined with spatial magic. It can hold up to 10 non-living items regardless of their size or weight, keeping them weightless and neatly stored in a pocket dimension. Items can be summoned with a thought, making it perfect for quick access in or out of combat.]
A compact satchel shimmered into view—a deep blue leather pouch with a tiny silver trident emblem. Lucian reached for it and felt a soft magical hum.
"Let's test this out…"
He placed the Dragon Conch inside. It vanished without resistance. With a thought, it was back in his hand. He tried it again. And again.
A satisfied grin tugged at his lips. "This'll be very useful."
Just as he began to stretch out, a soft knocking came from the door.
Lucian swam over and opened it to see the familiar seahorse messenger, hovering with perfect posture.
"Honored guest," it said in its chipper, high-pitched tone, "His Majesty, King Triton, humbly invites you to dine with him in the Grand Hall."
Lucian nodded. "Please, lead the way."
He spared a glance back at Simba, still dozing peacefully on the coral bed, then followed the seahorse into the glowing corridors of the sea.
_______
Northern Waters
The wind howled cold and sharp in the northern seas, biting through the mist like teeth on steel. Cutting across the gray waters sailed a fearsome vessel known only by its dread-painted sails, a black-and-red background slashed with a crimson hook crossed over a cutlass. Glittering crocodile-scale patterns shimmered faintly in the fabric, catching what little light pierced the overcast skies.
The ship creaked with the steady churn of the waves, sails taut with wind, as it sliced through the frostbitten sea. At the helm, standing tall like a scarlet specter, was a man wrapped in regal cruelty.
He wore a crimson captain's coat with golden trim, sharp and immaculate. A white cravat cascaded from his neck like foam from a breaking wave, resting just above a sapphire brooch. His long black hair fluttered in the wind, eyes narrowed beneath the brim of a grand feathered hat. One hand clutched the railing; the other—a gleaming, sharpened silver hook—rested casually against his hip.
Captain Hook, the Dread Corsair of the Southern Shoals, watched the horizon with a quiet, calculating hunger.
Beside him, shuffling nervously on the damp deck, was a peculiar man with an odd, hourglass-shaped head. He wore striped blue and white, with sandals that slapped awkwardly against the wet boards. His name was Smee.
"Uhmm... Captain Hook, may I ask why we're heading to the Northern Market?" Smee asked, voice a bit strained. "I mean, winter's nearly upon us and the waters are getting... pointy."
Captain Hook didn't look at him at first. His gaze stayed fixed on the distant fog ahead. Then he slowly turned, his dark eyes glinting like obsidian. His voice was velvet over iron.
"Well Smee, It's because… of a dragon."
Smee blinked. "A dragon?"
Hook nodded once, the faintest smirk curling at the edge of his mustache. "Yes, Smee. But not just any dragon."
He stepped forward, the click of his boot against the deck echoing ominously.
"A Night Fury."
Smee nearly tripped on his own sandals. "N-Night Fury!? Those are real?!"
Hook's smirk widened into something darker. "Real, and very much alive. Trapped. Caged."
He gestured grandly across the deck, where a group of tense crewmates stood guard over a chained zippleback—its mouths muzzled, its tails swaying irritably.
"You see, Viggo Grimborn and his little band of trappers got lucky. They caught one. And in three days, he's hosting an auction in the Northern Market. All the great powers are sending delegates. Royals. Merchants. Tyrants."
Smee leaned closer, whispering, "And… you're going to bid?"
Hook turned slowly to face him, then let out a chilling laugh. "Bid? Oh no, Smee…"
He hooked a finger—his hooked hand—into Smee's collar, dragging him close until their noses nearly touched.
"We are pirates, my dear Smee. And pirates don't bid—we take."
He released him with a flourish, letting Smee stumble backward.
"But, but... there'll be guards, vikings, nobles!" Smee stammered. "All those important people in one place!"
"And that," Hook said, voice rising with an eerie glee, "is what makes it so delicious." He turned to address the deck, spreading his arms wide like a prophet on a pulpit.
"Imagine it, lads! Chaos in the cold! Greed on every face! An auction turned battlefield! While the fools squabble like gulls over scraps… we'll steal the whole damn table!"
A rumble of laughter burst from the crew, quickly rising into a full-throated roar. Steel clanged against wood. Boots stomped. Hook threw his head back, letting out a nobleman's laugh twisted by madness.
The storm was brewing, both above and below the deck.
And in three days, Captain Hook planned to make the Barbaric archipelago watch as he turned the Northern Market into a memory soaked in fire.