The ocean of the night veiled all its affairs within the embrace of its fathomless waters. So, when the patches of dark clouds marred the purple sky, their shades blending as the seconds ticked, Ewan took Nana to the blackest depth in the vicinity.

  He checked the bed of sand while she remained in the bubble of his Ryvia, clenching and unclenching her fists to control her fidgets. An array of lives signed their presence at the bottom, the loose sand still holding their fresh trails and traces. The struggles of the bottom feeders, the ambushes of the night predators, the stubborn formation of the schools of fishes, and the ease of the apex hunters proved the absence of the blank bubble—the sphere of the haunted quiet that declared the territory of a Step-1 or higher Astylind.

  “It’s clear,” he said, returning into the bubble, rubbing her hands to warm them up.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  “You were always better than me in breaking through the levels, you won't have any problems with this,” he said. “And it doesn’t matter if it fails, we’ll try again.”

  She nodded and handed him her pendant, taking deep breaths. “Should I take my clothes off?” she asked.

  “Do you want to?” He chuckled. “I had to take mine off, but my rite was… I vote for taking it off anyway,” he said.

  “I’ll keep them on then,” she said, chugging the stabilizing potions, and Ewan clicked his tongue.

  And when she stepped out of the Ryvia bubble, as Ewan’s eyes lost the playful sparkle and his buried anxiety surfaced, the pressure of the ocean thudded down on her and triggered her rite—the ‘Ocean’s Embrace’. The strong currents bent their paths, the weak streams surrendered to their aggression, and their amalgamation sphered Nana—the ocean crushed her under its endless might.

  The unrelated water vortexed around her, digging into the sand bed, and the swirl reached for the distant sky. It mangled the lives in the premises, even the predators became its prey, and their blood reddened the sphere. Water birthed life but it also conveyed death, the poetic aspect of the ocean almost entranced Ewan.

  The rite progressed and Nana’s body cracked with the onslaught, shredding her clothes to rags that barely held on, trickles of water invading her body through the fissures. She paled, her breaths halted, and soon the cracks broke her body as she floated within the sphere, blood seeping out of her.

  Ewan clenched his jaws; his heart was in his mouth. The rite had no problem, this was just a stage she had to pass to advance to the next step—he knew but the sight of it tortured him. The perception of time lost him as he stared at her unmoving figure in the sphere, the surroundings fading away. How long had he waited; the absolute silence had no reply. His heartbeat counted for him, however, and when it crossed a baker’s dozen, Nana twitched and the ocean flooded her body, reconstructing her.

  Ewan heaved a huge sigh of relief, his knees almost giving away, the gulps wetting his dry throat. The rite was a success, now only the final part remained. He crushed the ‘Tonic’ and ‘Enliven’ potions and let them mix into the streams that merged with her—‘Tonic’ accelerated her healing process while ‘Enliven’ rejuvenated her spirit. And as the vortex rested, when the hovering sand returned to the bed below, her rite finally came to an end; she became a Step-1 Seaborn.

  She had a wide grin on her face when she opened her eyes, and she shot at Ewan and clasped him in a tight hug. “I did it!” she hollered as he closed the bubble of Ryvia, the pocket of air he’d trapped allowing their words.

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  “Yeah, you did,” he said with a chuckle, caressing her head, brushing her hair.

  “I’m finally on the same level as you,” she whispered, burying her face in his collar.

  “You still have to complete the life extension rite,” he said.

  “Ah,” she broke the hug and exclaimed. “Lime just moved in the rune,” she said. “Luna and Biscuit might wake up too.”

  “Well, hello, my favorite twins,” Ewan said, looking down at the two jiggling bare hills and the valley. “Long time no see.”

  “Be serious,” Nana said with a click of her tongue, pushing his forehead up.

  “I’m really serious about them,” Ewan said, and she smooshed his face then giggled at his mug.

  The ocean bed shifted beneath them as they bickered, vomiting a cloud of sand, and revealed a trench that hid its bottom with its depth. Nana yelped at the sudden noise and hugged Ewan again, scrunching up her eyes, gulping when she finally looked down at the chasm.

  “I thought it was another space crack,” she said with a phew, patting her chest. “That scared me.”

  “Did that give you a trauma?” Ewan asked, staring at her body then glancing at the trench, but her attraction brought his gaze back to her again. “Wear some clothes already, you’re distracting me.”

  “You have my pendant,” she said.

  “Then say so,” he said, handing it back.

  …

  …

  “Are you trying to seduce me in this situation?” he said, annoyed. “Wear your bottom first, don’t start with the top. And don’t wear a shirt right now.” He grunted and growled. “This is pure torture.”

  “Don’t watch then,” she said, adjusting the fluffy round collar of her ivory sweater when she switched to it from the shirt, her lower half still unclothed.

  “Can't do that,” he said, ogling at her until she dressed up, tying the last knot of her boots.

  “Done,” she said, patting her clothes as she got up.

  “Finally,” Ewan grumbled. “Let’s go,” he said, and took her down the trench. Curiosity didn’t lead his way this time, it was instead for Stefan, for his rite required an abyss.

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