Chapter 56 – Echoes of the Abyss

  The air inside the ancient chamber was thick with dust and the scent of aged parchment. Thorne, Caelum, Aelith, and Frid stood before the seated figure of Old Man Antru, whose sunken eyes gleamed with knowledge far beyond his years.

  "You wish to find the pulse," Antru murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Then listen well, for the abyss does not stir without reason."

  The four mages exchanged wary glances but remained silent, letting the old man speak.

  "The pulse you sensed… it is no mere fluctuation of mana. It is a sign of movement—of something waking." His fingers traced an invisible pattern in the air. "Go to the shores. The sea has changed, and the abyss has left its mark. There, you will find the remnants of what has already been set in motion."

  "Do you mean something came from the abyss?" Aelith asked, narrowing her eyes.

  Antru exhaled slowly. "Perhaps. Or perhaps something from above has drawn the abyss' gaze. Either way, the sea will tell you more than I can."

  Silence stretched between them before Thorne gave a curt nod. "Then we’ll start there."

  Without another word, the four turned and left the chamber, their thoughts heavy with unspoken possibilities.

  The sky above the coastline was painted in muted grays, the horizon blurring where the sea met the sky. The waves were calmer now, but the shore bore the scars of something unnatural—deep gouges in the earth, remnants of shattered wood, and an eerie stillness in the air.

  Thorne, Caelum, Aelith, and Frid stood at the edge of the water, eyes scanning the remnants of a once-thriving fishing village.

  "The damage isn't from a storm," Frid muttered, crouching to inspect a piece of charred wood. "There was power here, but it wasn’t natural."

  "More importantly," Caelum said, gaze fixed on the sea, "where exactly did it come from?"

  Before anyone could answer, movement caught their attention. A lone figure stood among the wreckage of the village, staring at the ruins with a solemn expression.

  It was Orin, a man in his late thirties, his face worn with hardship, his hands rough from years of labor. His clothes were simple but well-maintained, though they did little to hide the weight of loss in his stance.

  Even after the village had been abandoned, he still returned, drawn to the place that had once been home.

  Thorne stepped forward, his presence immediately drawing Orin’s attention. The man’s breath hitched, his eyes widening in recognition.

  Mages.

  Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee, bowing his head low. "O revered ones, I did not expect to be in your presence…" His voice was steady but tinged with something deeper—respect, perhaps, or the weight of desperation.

  Aelith exchanged an amused glance with Frid but said nothing.

  "You may rise," Thorne said, his tone even.

  Orin hesitated before standing, though his posture remained respectful.

  Thorne wasted no time. "We seek information. Has anything unusual happened at sea?"

  Orin inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering toward the horizon. Unusual?

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  His fingers tightened at his sides. Rael…

  "My father," Orin said at last, voice quieter now, "he spoke of something before he passed. The sea had changed, he said. It was restless in ways no storm or tide could explain. There were waves that came when the wind was still, waters that churned as if something massive had moved beneath them."

  He paused before continuing. "And sometimes, at night, he heard it."

  "Heard what?" Caelum pressed.

  Orin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Breathing," he said at last. "Like the ocean itself was alive. Slow, steady, deeper than anything human or beast. He called it the voice of the abyss."

  Silence settled over them.

  Finally, Thorne exhaled. "I see."

  Orin, sensing their thoughts drifting elsewhere, bowed once more. "If that is all, I shall take my leave. My family awaits me."

  "Go," Thorne said simply.

  Orin turned, casting one last look at the ruins of his village, then walked away, disappearing into the mist that clung to the shore.

  As his figure vanished, Aelith crossed her arms. "Breathing, he said. A sea that breathes."

  Caelum’s gaze darkened. "Then Antru was right."

  Thorne looked back at the restless ocean. The pulse they had sensed, the disturbance in the waves…

  Something was coming. And they would be there to meet it.

  The waves rolled against the shore, their rhythm steady and unbroken. The salt-laden breeze whispered through the ruins of the abandoned village, carrying with it the distant cries of gulls. Yet, despite the natural sounds of the sea, something was missing.

  The world felt… muted.

  Thorne, Caelum, and Aelith moved carefully along the shoreline, scanning their surroundings, searching for anything—any trace of the unnatural force that had been lingering in the air. There had to be something, some sign of what was causing this deep unease.

  Yet Frid did not join them.

  He stood apart, near the jagged remains of a collapsed wooden structure, staring into empty space. His lips moved, his voice quiet, yet intimate, as though engaged in a private conversation. His posture was relaxed, his expression soft—an unsettling contrast to the oppressive atmosphere suffocating the rest of them.

  “Do you see it, Agatha?” Frid murmured, his head tilting slightly, as though listening. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Even the sea feels like it’s waiting for something.”

  A gentle pause. His fingers traced the air absentmindedly, as though brushing against something unseen.

  Then, he chuckled.

  “Yes, yes… you’re right. It does feel like it’s watching us.”

  Aelith glanced over her shoulder, frowning. She had long since stopped questioning Frid’s murmured conversations, but this time… this time, something felt different.

  “Frid,” Caelum called out, his voice edged with warning.

  Frid didn’t respond. He was still staring into nothingness, his fingers twitching ever so slightly.

  Then, in his mind’s eye, Agatha smiled.

  A beautiful, haunting smile—one she had worn many times before. But this time, something was different. Her eyes, always so warm, now carried a glint of something… unnatural.

  And then, she whispered.

  “It’s coming.”

  Frid’s smile widened, his voice disturbingly calm as he responded aloud, “Ah… I see. How unfortunate.”

  The others turned at the sound of his voice.

  Aelith took a slow, deliberate step toward him. “Frid—who are you talking to?”

  He ignored her, his gaze still locked on the invisible figure before him. His head tilted ever so slightly. “You’re certain?”

  Silence.

  Then, he laughed.

  A quiet, unsettling chuckle. “Well… isn’t that interesting?”

  And then—it hit them.

  A crushing, invisible weight slammed into their beings.

  The world darkened—not physically, but within them. It was a feeling, a presence, a force that made their very souls shrink in instinctive terror.

  It was not magic.

  It was something deeper, more primal, more absolute.

  Improved Abyssal Instinct.

  A presence so overwhelming it suppressed the very will to move.

  Aelith’s breath hitched as she felt it coil around her like an unseen predator. A suffocating, inevitable force that crushed down on her thoughts, her magic, her very sense of self. Her knees threatened to buckle, her mind screaming at her to submit.

  Thorne gritted his teeth, his fingers gripping his sword with white-knuckled intensity. He had faced death before, had stood against monstrous foes—yet this? This wasn’t a fight.

  This was a declaration.

  A reminder that they were nothing before it.

  Caelum gasped as his vision swam, his body feeling so small, so insignificant in the wake of this unseen terror. It wasn’t just fear—it was a knowing. A raw, undeniable understanding that whatever had awakened in the depths… was beyond them.

  Frid, however, simply smiled.

  His body trembled, but his gaze remained locked on Agatha—his Agatha—who now stood before him with that same knowing smile.

  She leaned in, whispering one final thing.

  “It sees you.”

  And for the first time, Frid’s smile faltered.