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Esmyra

T hey stepped beyond the cave’s mouth and into the blinding merlights that mimicked the sun.

Esmyra took her first steps into the world as a woman reborn, her silver hair shimmering like molten moonlight as they made their way through Maerinys with the Aeress trident in hand.

Turning the last bend, the air became alive with the murmurs of the crowd gathered in the city’s streets as the people of Maerinys came to witness their goddesses return.

Once they stood at the stairs of the palace, together, the twins placed the trident in its stand at the edge of the steps, as if the weapon was looking out over the city—watchful and protective of their people.

Esmyra’s heart thundered, endless emotions surging through her. The tattoos swirling along her arms glowed faintly, responding to the power coursing through her, and the sparks at her fingertips danced erratically in anticipation.

She lifted them to her face. “Why does this keep happening?”

Beside her, Syrena stood tall and composed, the glow of her power radiating like a second sun. Her golden hair billowed around her as though the wind itself bowed to her presence .

Syrena offered her a smile. “We each possess powers of the sea, mimicking the depths, and the creatures lurking within them.”

Esmyra lifted both hands before her face. “It feels like lightning.”

“Call it built up tension.” Syrena shrugged. “ That stems from the rage of eels that lurk within our trenches, sister.”

Eels .

Her eyes widened, unknowing of what to do or say.

“Just imagine what it would do within the water,” Syrena tacked on with a wink, and Esmyra’s lips parted. “If legends and scripts are to be believed…we’re also no longer limited to only blending in with our surroundings.”

“What do you mean?” Esmyra whispered.

A ghost of a smile cracked Syrena’s lips. “I mean, we can be whoever we wish. Transform into someone else entirely, allowing us to blend in with the world. We can’t hold the forms for long, but we’re gods , Esmyra. The magic we possess knows no bounds.”

Syrena lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers, and in an instant, her hand expanded, transforming into an elongated kraken tentacle.

Esmyra’s jaw fell open, and she took a step back. “What in all gods?!” she gasped, a nervous laugh trailing the words.

Syrena wrapped the tentacle around Esmyra’s wrist and pulled her so close their noses brushed. “Not all gods, dear sister. From now on, there is only us .”

Esmyra was left stunned as Syrena returned her attention to the awaiting crowd, her hand morphing back to normal in the blink of an eye.

“People of Maerinys,” Syrena declared, her voice amplified by her power, rolling over the crowd like a roaring wave. “For too long, we have been shadows of what we once were. Bound by manacles, and cursed by the gods who feared our strength, leaving us for dead. But no more.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by cheers that echoed across the city. She raised a hand to halt the cheering, her golden rose-hued hair levitating around her as if she were in the sea.

Esmyra watched her sister, a mix of admiration and unease curling in her stomach. Since the moment they met, Syrena had always been able to command a room. But now, as Naerysa reborn, there was something almost unnerving in her confidence.

“Together, Kaelypso and I will restore our kingdom,” Syrena continued, her voice fierce. “Together, we will reclaim what was taken from us. And to those who dare stand in our way—” Her sharp gaze swept over the crowd. “Know that they will face the wrath of gods .”

As cheering erupted once more, her twin whispered, “Don’t be shy, Esmi. They need to see your power to know our words hold truth.”

Esmyra swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the crowd’s attention shifted to her. Taking a breath, she stepped forward, summoning her magic as she lifted her hands toward the false sky.

Silver-blue sparks leapt from her fingertips, crackling like starlight in the air.

They danced and swirled around her hands, arcs of light snapping between her fingers.

Growing brighter, they merged into streaks of lightning that twisted into intricate patterns above her palms, forming a glowing sphere of pure energy.

The crowd gasped, their awe rippling through the air. Esmyra smiled faintly, something resembling pride blooming in her chest.

A flick of her wrist launched the sphere into the air, where it burst into a shower of sparks, and the crowd erupted in excitement. Esmyra let her hands fall back to her sides, her chest heaving as she took in the sight of her people, their faces lit with wonder—because of her .

It was at such odds to what she was used to. No longer did people look at her with fear in their eyes, but with hope .

But as the crowd’s roaring washed over her, another realization struck her like a bolt of the lightning now living in her veins. The curse wasn’t just on themselves and their kingdom—it had been tied to the man who escaped this damnation with her.

It was tied to her father.

Esmyra’s heart leapt into her throat, and without a word, she turned and ran, her feet carrying her away from the celebration and back through the main doors of the castle.

Behind her, Syrena called out, but she didn’t stop.

She had to know. If her curse was broken, then her father’s should’ve been too.

Cyrus Blackwood should be free.

Esmyra sprinted through the castle corridors, her bare feet slapping against the stone, as her silver hair streamed behind her. Her breaths came fast and shallow, her thoughts racing even faster.

Behind her, Syrena’s voice echoed. “Esmi! Where are you going?”

Esmyra didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, her heart hammering as she rounded a corner and halted at the bottom of the steps that would lead her to the tower. As she moved to take her first step to ascend the stairs, Syrena’s hand caught her shoulder, spinning her around.

“Esmyra, stop!” Her sister’s voice was sharp, but her eyes were searching, filled with concern. “What are you doing?”

Esmyra shrugged off her sister’s grip, her chest heaving as she met Syrena’s golden gaze. “The Veil of Visions,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “You said it shows the past and the present— anything I wish to see.”

Syrena’s brow furrowed, her lips parting as if to argue, but then she hesitated. “It does,” she admitted, her tone quieter now. “Why? What are you looking for? If it’s Drae?—”

“My father,” Esmyra cut her off. The words hung in the air between them. “If our curse is broken, if we’re free…I have to know if he is, too. I need to see him.”

Syrena stared at her, her expression unreadable. “After he betrayed our parents and separated us?” she whispered. “After the part he played in the fall of our kingdom?”

Esmyra desperately tried to ignore the pain in her sister’s voice. “I’m sorry, Syrena. But he’s still my father. He still raised me. Cyrus is all I knew for nearly a thousand years.”

Syrena’s gaze swept over her, her shoulders slumping. Nodding, she gestured to the stairs. “If you must.”

Without another word, Esmyra turned and raced up the stairs, visions of her father plaguing her mind—of him choking and gasping for air all this time since she’d been gone.

Once she reached the top of the steps, it seemed to open for her, as if expecting her. The Veil of Visions stood at the center of the chamber, its surface shimmering faintly.

Esmyra stepped closer, her reflection rippling on the glass-like surface as she approached. “What do I do?”

“All you must do is ask, offering your will and intentions,” Syrena said, her voice soft, almost nervous. “And prepare yourself for what you may find.”

Esmyra took a deep breath, centering herself. Her tattoos glimmered faintly in the reflection of the small pool. “Show me my father,” she demanded. “Show me Cyrus Blackwood.”

The surface swirled, shadows and light twisting into a vortex before settling into a clear image. Esmyra’s breath caught in her throat as she was thrust through time and space, appearing as a phantom within the holding cells of Castle Lephyrin, far above the surface.