Mira’s pov:

  Darkness swirled around me, thick and suffocating, until light pierced through like a sudden breath of air. I blinked, trying to adjust to the brightness, and found myself standing in the heart of Hydrothys.

  The familiar, elegant coral structures and pearl-studded streets spread before me, yet… something felt off. Some buildings were different, less ornate, their colors duller than I remembered. The bustling life that had always defined the city seemed muted, like a distant echo of its vibrancy.

  “What… what’s going on?” I murmured, my voice trembling.

  I began walking, trying to find someone, anyone, who could explain why everything felt so strange. My gaze darted to a group of Myrdians chatting by a market stall, their voices silent as if drowned beneath the waves.

  “Excuse me!” I called out, hurrying toward them. They didn’t even glance my way. “Can you hear me?”

  No response.

  I waved my hand in front of a young Myrdian girl. She didn’t react, her gaze passing right through me. My heart raced as a chilling thought crept into my mind.

  Am I… invisible?

  The streets grew eerily quiet as I wandered aimlessly, each step amplifying the oppressive stillness. My chest tightened, and I clenched my fists, desperate for clarity.

  Suddenly, a deafening explosion ripped through the silence, shaking the ground beneath me. I spun around, my eyes widening in horror as a horde of unfamiliar Myrdians stormed the city.

  These were no ordinary Myrdians. Their faces were scarred, their fins jagged and torn, their eyes filled with rage. Each of them rode a monstrous shark, armed with brutal, modified harpoon guns and serrated sabers.

  “Raiders. No wait, these aren’t normal raiders, more like sea raiders” I whispered, my voice trembling.

  The raiders swept through the streets, their weapons gleaming as they attacked indiscriminately. Myrdians screamed in terror, scattering in every direction. I froze as one of the raiders charged directly toward me, his harpoon raised.

  “No!” I shouted, raising my arms instinctively.

  He passed right through me.

  My body felt like ice as I turned around, watching helplessly as he struck down an innocent Myrdian with his saber. The victim collapsed, blood mixing with the water around them. More raiders flooded in, their weapons leaving trails of destruction in their wake.

  “I can’t… I can’t do anything…” My voice cracked as I backed away, tears stinging my eyes.

  The city guards arrived, their armor glinting as they fought back valiantly. Spears clashed against harpoons, and bursts of light from magical attacks illuminated the chaos. But the raiders were relentless, their numbers overwhelming the guards.

  I couldn’t stay. My feet carried me forward, past the carnage, toward the royal palace. My heart pounded as I approached the gates, which had been shattered, leaving the grand halls exposed.

  Inside, I saw him. The human man who had called himself my father. He stood barehanded, his body tense as he shielded his wife—my mother—who cradled a tiny baby in her arms.

  Before him loomed the raiders’ leader, a towering figure with octopus-like traits. Four of his tentacles wielded swords, each one gleaming with malicious intent.

  “I won’t let you harm my family or this city, I will be the shield of the Myrdians when the king is away.” The man said, his voice steady despite the danger. His fists glowed faintly, a sign of the magic he was channeling.

  The raider leader sneered. “Bold words for a powerless human. Let’s see if your resolve can match my blades.”

  The fight erupted in a flurry of movement. The human ducked and weaved, dodging the leader’s strikes with an agility I didn’t think possible for someone unarmed. He countered with devastating punches, each one landing with a shockwave that rattled the palace walls.

  “You’re strong for a human,” the leader admitted, licking his lips with a barbed tongue. “But strength alone won’t save you.”

  The leader swung all four swords simultaneously, forcing my father back. But he didn’t falter. With a roar, he charged forward, his fist glowing brighter as he prepared to deliver a decisive blow.

  The punch connected, sending the leader crashing into a marble pillar.

  But before the human could finish him, more raiders swarmed through the shattered windows. They pinned him to the ground, their harpoons piercing his shoulders.

  He screamed in agony, his voice raw and desperate.

  “No!” The woman cried, clutching the baby tighter.

  The raider leader rose, wiping blood from his mouth. He approached the woman, his swords gleaming menacingly.

  “Such a waste of bravery,” he sneered, slapping her hard across the face. She fell to her knees, still holding the baby.

  The leader ripped the child from her arms as she screamed, “Mira! Mira, help!”

  My chest felt like it had been split open. Her voice cut through me like a blade, and for the first time, I understood.

  “They’re my parents,” I whispered, my knees buckling. “And I… I’ve been so cruel to them…”

  Her cries faded as I stumbled back into the streets, my surroundings spinning. The screams of the dying filled the air, each one piercing my soul.

  I turned a corner and froze. Three children lay over their parents’ lifeless bodies, tears streaming down their faces.

  It was… Lyssira, Leryn, and Caelum.

  Their father was still alive but barely clinging to life, his chest rising and falling with shallow, labored breaths, and their mom, who lays not too far from him is ... dead. Blood seeped from a wound on his side, staining the coral stone beneath him. His hand, trembling and weak, reached out toward the three children huddled near him.

  Lyssira was sobbing uncontrollably, clutching at his arm as if her touch alone could keep him alive. “Daddy… please don’t leave us!”

  Caelum knelt beside her, his small hands pressing against the wound as if he could stop the bleeding through sheer will. “We can get help! We’ll find someone to heal you—just hold on!”

  Leryn, the youngest, clung to their father’s other hand, his tiny fingers curling around it. Tears streaked down his cheeks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t go… please… we need you.”

  Their father’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze glassy but filled with love and sorrow as he looked at his children. His lips moved, forming words that were barely audible.

  “My brave… little ones…” His voice was weak, each word a struggle. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t protect… your mother…”

  Lyssira shook her head violently, her sobs growing louder. “Don’t say that! You protected us! You kept us safe!”

  “You did everything you could,” Caelum added, his voice trembling. “You’re a hero… our hero.”

  Their father’s lips curved into a faint smile, though pain flickered in his eyes. “You’re… strong. Stronger than… I ever was. Promise me… you’ll look after… each other.”

  Leryn wiped at his tears with a shaking hand. “We will, Daddy. I promise.”

  The father’s gaze softened as he looked at them, pride and sadness mingling in his expression. “Lyssira… you’ll be their guide. Caelum… protect them… like I did.” His eyes turned to Leryn. “Leryn… never stop… smiling… your smile… keeps the light alive.”

  Lyssira gripped his arm tighter. “No! You can’t leave us! You have to stay! Please… please!”

  The father coughed weakly, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. His hand, trembling, reached up to touch Lyssira’s cheek. “I’ll always… be with you… in your hearts…”

  Caelum choked back a sob, his fists clenching. “We’ll make you proud, Dad. We’ll carry on… for you and Mom.”

  Leryn leaned down, pressing his forehead against their father’s hand. “I love you, Daddy.”

  Their father’s breathing grew fainter, his hand slipping from Leryn’s grasp. His final words came out in a whisper. “I love you… my children…”

  His eyes closed, his body going still.

  “No!” Lyssira screamed, burying her face in his chest. Caelum wrapped his arms around her, his own tears falling freely. Leryn sobbed quietly, his small frame trembling as he clung to their father’s lifeless hand.

  I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold before me. My chest ached, and tears streamed down my face.

  Why? Why can’t I do anything?

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  I reached out toward them, but my hand passed through like a ghost. My knees buckled, and I collapsed, overwhelmed by the weight of their grief and my own helplessness.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, though they couldn’t hear me. “I’m so sorry…”

  I wanted to scream, to cry, to wake up.

  I shot upright in bed, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My cheeks were wet with tears, my body trembling. The nightmare still clung to me, vivid and suffocating, its echoes refusing to fade.

  “Mira!” a familiar voice called out.

  I turned sharply, my heart still hammering in my chest. My parents were beside me—my mother holding my hand tightly, her green eyes brimming with concern, while my father stood behind her, his expression tense with worry.

  But there was something else in their eyes—understanding.

  They already knew.

  “You saw it, didn’t you?” my mother asked softly, brushing strands of damp hair from my face.

  I swallowed hard, my hands clenching the bedsheets. The weight of the vision still pressed down on me like a suffocating fog. “You… how did you—?”

  “It was my magic,” she admitted, her voice filled with quiet regret. “Before I collapsed… I gave you a part of my memories.”

  I froze. The pieces fell into place—the overwhelming flood of images, the emotions that weren’t mine but felt so real.

  I had lived through her pain.

  My fingers tightened around the sheets. “Why…?”

  My mother’s eyes glistened. “Because you deserved to know the truth.”

  My breath hitched, a lump forming in my throat. “I remember everything now.” My voice cracked. “I saw it all…”

  A heavy silence hung between us. My father’s hand curled into a fist at his side, his jaw tightening. “Mira…” His voice was filled with a sorrow I hadn’t heard before. “I’m sorry.”

  I looked up at him, startled.

  “I wasn’t strong enough,” he admitted, his eyes dark with guilt. “I couldn’t protect you. I should have been there, should have—”

  I shook my head fiercely. “No,” I cut him off. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  He looked at me, pain evident in his gaze, but he said nothing.

  I turned back to my mother, my mind still reeling. “You knew I’d see it… because you made me see it,” I whispered. There was no anger in my voice, only raw emotion. “You wanted me to remember.”

  She nodded slowly, her grip on my hand tightening. “I needed you to understand, Mira. I didn’t want you to carry this doubt alone anymore.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. I had spent so long fighting against it—denying my connection to them, to this place. But deep down… hadn’t I always wondered? Hadn’t I always felt that something was missing?

  “I… I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “For everything. For the way I treated you… and Grandpa. I pushed you away when you were just trying to reach me.”

  I bit my lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free.

  My father knelt beside me, placing a firm, reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’re our daughter,” he said, his voice steady despite the pain I knew he carried. “Nothing will ever change that.”

  The moment the words left his mouth, regret settled deep in my chest. I clenched the blanket in my hands. “I—I'm sorry,” I quickly added, shaking my head. “I said something terrible before…”

  To my surprise, my mother let out a soft chuckle. She reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Maybe your father’s genes are just a little too strong,” she mused, her voice light with affection.

  I blinked, startled by her response. My father let out a small, amused huff as he crossed his arms. “I am quite resilient,” he said, feigning pride.

  A watery laugh escaped me before I could stop it. The warmth in their voices, the ease with which they reassured me—it melted the last bit of resistance I had been clinging to.

  Before I could think, my mother pulled me into her arms, and my father joined in, wrapping both of us in a firm, protective embrace.

  “We love you, Mira,” my mother whispered against my hair.

  “No matter what,” my father added, his voice steady and sure.

  I closed my eyes, burying my face in their embrace. For so long, I had been afraid—afraid of not belonging, afraid of what I didn’t understand. But in this moment, none of that mattered.

  Because no matter how lost I felt, I wasn’t alone.

  Duke’s pov:

  I woke up in the same room I’d been brought to earlier. Sunlight filtered in through the pearlescent windows, casting shimmering patterns across the walls. My head felt lighter, no traces of the strange drowning sensation I’d experienced the first time.

  For a moment, I lay there, a faint smile tugging at my lips as remnants of my dream lingered. It was about my friends again. Their antics and the warmth of those moments felt comforting, a nostalgic thread tying me to my old world.

  But reality snapped back quickly, and my thoughts turned to Mira.

  I jumped out of the bed, the urgency pushing me forward. Mira had been unconscious, and there was so much I needed to figure out about what had happened to her. Before I reached the door, a small gust of wind blew through the room.

  “Wait, what?” I froze in place, suddenly aware of an unsettling draft.

  I looked down.

  Completely naked.

  Oh great, not this again.

  A knock at the door made my heart leap into my throat. “Duke? Are you awake?” Mira’s voice.

  Of all the times! I scrambled for the clothes folded neatly on the dresser nearby. “Uh, y-yeah, just a second!”

  “Do you feel better now? I heard that Caelum had knocked you down,” she asked, a mix of concern and irritation in her voice.

  “Not yet! Give me a minute!” I shouted back, frantically throwing on the clothes. At least this time, they didn’t include some overly ceremonial robe.

  Once dressed, I took a deep breath and opened the door, trying to appear calm. Mira stepped in, her expression serious.

  “They’re my family, Duke,” Mira said without preamble, her voice resolute but trembling with emotion.

  I stared at her, still not fully convinced. “Mira, are you sure? Everything about this feels—”

  “I’m sure,” she interrupted, her voice steady but carrying a weight I hadn’t heard before. Her eyes locked onto mine, shining with an intensity that made me stop. “When my mother touched me… I saw everything. My past, Duke.”

  Her words hit me like a blow, and I found myself struggling to speak. “What… What do you mean? What did you see?”

  Mira moved to the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the memories had returned to her all over again. She clasped her hands tightly, knuckles white, and her voice came out barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t just memories—it was like reliving it. The day the sea raiders took me, the screams of my family, the life they sold me into… It was dark, Duke. So dark. I thought I’d never see the light again.”

  Her voice cracked, and I instinctively moved closer, sitting beside her. She looked so small, so fragile, in that moment.

  “They sold me like I was nothing,” she continued, her voice shaking as tears welled in her eyes. “To people on land—people who didn’t see me as a person. Just a thing. Something to own.”

  Her fists clenched so tightly that I thought she might hurt herself. “There were nights I prayed for it to end, nights where I thought I’d never escape.” She looked at me then, her gaze hollow and full of pain. “Do you know what that’s like, Duke? To think you’ll never be free?”

  I didn’t know what to say. My chest tightened, anger and sorrow bubbling up at the thought of what she had endured.

  “An old couple eventually saved me,” she went on, her tone softening. “They found me and gave me a home. They taught me magic—healing magic. They were kind, Duke. Their children were all killed in a war, so for the first time, I felt love and care. They said my name was written on my nape but not my last name, and then they gave me theirs, ‘Velorn.’” Her lips quivered as she spoke, and tears began to fall freely. “But even that didn’t last. They were killed by mana beasts. Right in front of me.”

  Her voice broke completely, and she covered her face with trembling hands. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “Mira… I had no idea.”

  “They always die, Duke,” she sobbed, her words muffled by her hands. “Everyone who tries to help me. Everyone I care about. And then… then you and the others came along. You pulled me out of that loop, out of that nightmare. You saved me.”

  Before I could say anything, Mira threw her arms around me, burying her face in my shoulder as she cried. “Thank you… for everything. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

  Her sobs tore through me like daggers. I didn’t say anything at first, just raised a hand to pat her head gently, offering the only comfort I could.

  After a moment, Mira took a shaky breath and pulled away slightly. Her eyes, though red and puffy, had a new clarity to them. She wiped her face with the back of her hand before speaking again.

  “I used to think family was just the people you were born to,” she admitted softly. “That if you lost them, you had nothing left.” Her fingers curled slightly as she continued. “But I was wrong, Duke. Family isn’t just blood. It’s the people who stand by you when everything falls apart. The ones who fight for you, even when you don’t think you deserve it. The ones who see you, the real you, and stay.”

  She swallowed hard, her voice thick with emotion. “And no matter where I came from, no matter what my past was, I know now… I have a family. My real family. My parents. And you. Sylas, Kael, Kaldor. Everyone.” Her lips trembled as she forced a small, genuine smile. “You are my family too, Duke.”

  Something about those words hit differently. It wasn’t just gratitude—it was something deeper. A realization. A truth she had struggled to find all this time.

  I met her gaze, nodding. “Yeah. And you’re stuck with us now.”

  A small, broken laugh escaped her, and she wiped the last of her tears away. The room felt a little warmer now, a little lighter, despite everything that had been said.

  Mira still had a long road ahead of her, but at least… she wasn’t walking it alone.

  I nodded, but a part of me couldn’t let it rest. Something still gnawed at me, tugging at the edges of my thoughts. There was one more thing I needed to confirm.

  “Mira,” I said softly, standing up. “I’m glad you told me this. I really am. But there’s something I need to do.”

  She looked up at me, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s one last piece of this puzzle I have to figure out,” I said, glancing toward the door. “And for that, I need to talk to someone.”

  “Duke…Before you go, I need to ask you this. Can we……” Mira’s voice trailed off, but she didn’t stop me.

  Instead, she nodded, her expression full of understanding. “And finally, just… be careful, okay?”

  I gave her a small smile. “Understood.”

  And with that, I left the room, my mind already focused on my next destination.

  With that thought driving me, I made my way to the king’s chambers. The guards at the entrance allowed me through without a word.

  Inside, Myreidon sat on his throne, though his demeanor was far more relaxed than the last time. He wore a cheerful expression, almost jovial, as he sipped from a crystalline goblet.

  “Ah, young hero,” he greeted, his voice booming yet warm. “What brings you here? If it’s rewards for saving a princess, I could certainly part with some treasures or gold.”

  I shook my head, waving off his offer. “Your majesty, thank you for your offers but I’m not here for rewards. I have questions.”

  His eyes twinkled with curiosity as he gestured for me to take the chair opposite him. “Then ask, boy.”

  As I sat, my gaze drifted to a large framed board behind him. It bore six names. Five were unfamiliar, but one stood out: Myreidon.

  “I have two requests,” I began. “First, I want to know about your aura. The overwhelming presence I felt earlier—what was that?”

  Myreidon chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Ah, so you noticed. It’s not something I display lightly. I suppose I owe you an explanation.” He set down his goblet, his expression shifting to one of gravity.

  “I am not just a king, young man. I am a god. The Water God, to be precise.”

  I blinked, the words hanging in the air. “A god?”