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“An impressive skill,” I said. “If he can…” the water came crashing down on top of him, “…hold it.”

Rowan chuckled as a fog enveloped them. “I can’t see you,” he said.

“One of them must have heated the water with a spark of elemental energy to create the fog. A more useful skill when its direction can be controlled.”

As quickly as it came, the fog dissipated.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as one of the fishermen—I couldn’t tell which— turned the sea into a tempest. It would have been amusing if he could have controlled it. Instead, onlookers were drenched.

Nerithia appeared next to us, clearly not amused. “Nerys, will you stop them, please? My patrons are getting wet. And the younger of them is my nephew. I’ve no wish to embarrass him.”

“Of course,” I said, unable to see either of the fishermen’s identities from my vantage point.

With a flick of my wrist, the water suddenly receded, leaving both men momentarily confused. Before either could react, I pulled the tide forward as two towering columns of water rose like serpents, one behind each man. Gasps rippled through the crowd as the shimmering liquid wrapped tightly around the fighters, hoisting them into the air.

With another flick, the serpents tossed both men into the waves, eliciting more cheers and chatter.

“I can’t guarantee your nephew will not be embarrassed anyway. But that should end it.”

Nerithia laughed. “He is rash, with much to learn.”

The crowd began to disperse. I attempted to pull coins from the leather pouch at my side. “I best not be here when he emerges from the sea.”

“Nay.” Nerithia stopped me. “There is no need. Thank you for your assistance.”

Unless I was mistaken, a look passed between Rowan and Nerithia, one I couldn’t decipher. She walked away, Rowan and I doing the same in the other direction.

“It isn’t a short journey, but if we walk along the coast, we can get to the palace this way.”

“I would be pleased to walk this way,” Rowan said.

With the sea on our left and soft glow of the city above us to the right, somehow the beauty of Thalassaria continued to amaze me. I stared out into the sea, its closest floating lanterns remaining in place despite the power of those waves: a testament to Thalassarian magic.

“How did you learn to do that?” Rowan asked suddenly. “The serpents?”

“Have you heard of the Deep Archives?”

“In Ventara? Aye.”

“My mother had a close contact there, so growing up, I accompanied her often. I was enamored with the clifftop village and spent many hours in the Archives there while she worked. For anyone curious enough, every skill throughout our history has been recorded there. I read about that particular wielding technique from accounts of one of the first kings of Thalassaria who ruled not long after The Great Sundering.”

“Elydor’s first war.”

“Aye. Though I supposed our separation was inevitable. It was then as it is now. Aetherians have always believed their mastery of the skies symbolized enlightenment, making them natural leaders, while Gyorians prioritized stability and connection to the land. Early Thalassarians, meanwhile, flowed with innovation and adaptability but demanded independence. We were likely meant to be separate, though connected still by our ties to the same land.”

“And the humans?”

“I do not believe even King Galfrid understood how they would influence Elydor. I know it unsettles you to be without your weapons, to know those around you can wield the magic that imbued our land from its inception, but you and your kind have more influence than many realize.”

“Our abilities are different than most, but I agree, humans do wield power here, even among a land of immortals.” Rowan stopped and squatted down to the sand. He picked up a shell, glowing faintly a light teal color. Turning it upside down, he inspected it. “It’s not bioluminescence. How is this possible?”

I took the shell from him. “The waters of Thalassaria hold memories of every tide, every storm, every life. Some objects, like this shell, absorb that magic over centuries. It’s not uncommon in the depths of the seas around us, but it is for this shell to end up here, far from the deep currents. Keep it,” I said, handing it back, our fingers brushing as I did. “It is a rare find.”

“Should I not leave it where it belongs?”

“It belongs on the depths of the sea, but since it found its way here, perhaps you are meant to have it.”

Rowan slipped the shell into his pocket.