the fortress was north of Holohonu, but I couldn’t be sure. We had been traveling through the Akuric waters for what felt like hours, and the chill in the water made me worry about how close we were to the coldline. The memory of that icy boundary sent a shiver through me, the kind of cold that steals the warmth from your soul.

  As I studied the building ahead, it was clear that it had once been something grand. Faded remnants of paint still clung to the stonework, worn down by time and the relentless pull of the sea. The fortress had an air of foreign nobility about it, as if it had once been the proud estate of someone of great importance. But now, it felt cold, almost distant. The grandeur of its past was overshadowed by the imposing fortifications that had been added, turning what might have been a home into a stronghold.

  The coral and stone had been meticulously shaped and hardened, but the wear of centuries had softened the edges, giving it a weathered, almost melancholic appearance.

  As we drew nearer, I noticed intricate carvings in the stone, worn down by time but still discernible. They told a story, one that had been largely forgotten, yet still whispered through the fortress’s walls.

  I followed the Alaka?i as he led me through the dark corridors of the fortress. I could make out rooms that had been repurposed for the training of soldiers. What once looked like a grand ballroom had been turned into a mess hall for the men. The beauty of the space had been stripped away,

  It became clear that we were being led to what used to be the private quarters of the estate. I suppose that made sense this area would be reserved for an officer or leader of some kind. The corridors grew narrower, the walls closer, as we moved deeper into the fortress. The sense of history here was palpable, the echoes of once was visible here and there as I was led deeper into the Fortress.

  Two soldiers stood on either side of the door, towering over me in their large shell armor. The armor made them at least a foot taller, if not more. The way it enveloped them was intimidating, making them seem more like walking fortresses than men.

  “The armor is a living creature, Katari,” Karson’s voice echoed in my mind. “Hollowed inside and then worn, an ingenious way to increase the strength of a soldier. If you continue your studies, you might create something similar.”

  The idea made my skin crawl. The thought of walking around inside something, like a parasite inside a host, was unnerving, disgusting, even. I shuddered, trying to push the image out of my head.

  “Don’t be nervous, girl. The Kahuna is a gentle soul,” the Alaka?i said, his tone soft, almost like he was speaking to a child. His words were meant to comfort, but they felt condescending. I bristled at the thought, but at the same time, a small part of me found solace in the reassurance. His hand, firm and steady, rested on my shoulder, anchoring me.

  I was about to say something when one of the guards moved. Without a word, he opened the door,

  The Kahuna was a strange sight. Their long hair flowed with the water, a bright pink that reminded me of glowing coral or a vibrant anemone. At first glance, they looked like someone from the shallow seas, but that illusion shattered when I saw their eyes pitch black, with no hint of a pupil, just pure shark like darkness. Only locals had eyes like that; they must be of mixed blood.

  Their mouth held a stunning set of razor sharp fangs, and a prominent scar traced along their beautiful face, adding an air of danger. I had to admit, a part of me was jealous. There was something enviable about the way they carried themselves.

  The Kahuna wore elaborate armor, actual steel used underwater normally, metal like that would sink you straight to the sea floor, yet they moved effortlessly in it. Despite the armor’s weight, they didn’t appear particularly strong. Draped over one shoulder was a long banner bearing the crest of the city lord; they must be one of the city lord’s children.

  Their cold, black eyes locked onto me, sending a shiver down my spine For a moment, it felt like I was staring into the eyes of a basilisk But then, unexpectedly, their face broke into a friendly grin. Both terrifying and captivating at the same time.

  Judging by the armor of the two men flanking him, they must also be Alaka?i. I really hoped this didn’t mean I had to learn the name of the Sieki Alaka?i who brought me here.

  "Welcome, Priestess Katari. Do try to relax," the Kahuna said, already knowing my name.

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  "Umm, hello. Nice.. nice to meet you. You have a really pretty smile," I blurted out, catching them off guard. The large Raroren at their side burst into laughter.

  "That’s a first... Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lomu Malu, third son of Lord Loku Malu. I hope you are enjoying my mother's former estate?"

  There was almost a challenge in those words, as if he expected me to lash out at him, but I had no idea why. The tension in the room was palpable, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something important.

  "It seems really nice, but I haven't seen much of it yet,"

  Once again, the large Raroren broke into deep, hearty laughter. The tension that had been hanging in the air seemed to dissolve, and a sense of relief washed over me. Lomu’s smile softened, becoming more genuine.

  I hadn’t even realized his smile had been fake until I saw the real thing.

  Lomu gestured for me to follow him further into the room. "Come, there’s something I’d like to show you," he said. The large Raroren nodded, stepping aside to allow us to pass.

  As I followed, the hallways began to take on a more intimate feel. The light grew dimmer, casting a bluish hue over everything. Lomu led me into a small chamber adorned with flowing silks and illuminated by soft, glowing anemones. The room had an almost sacred atmosphere, filled with an air of quiet reverence.

  Lomu paused in front of a large, intricately carved stone mural that dominated one of the walls. The mural depicted a Nahesa woman, similar to the Matron. Her figure was imposing and curvaceous, her long hair flowing in waves even more elaborate than Lomu’s, cascading down her back in endless strands. Her upper body was covered in symmetrical tattoos that traced patterns down her entire form. But what stood out most was her lower half a serpentine body, covered not in scales but in raw, exposed flesh, adorned with countless fanged maws and hundreds of eyes, a nightmarish amalgamation of creatures.

  "Naieth," I breathed, the name slipping from my lips before I even realized it. The Mother Goddess.

  "Yes," Lomu confirmed, his voice low and measured. "My mother was a firm believer. I had hoped, as one of her priestesses, you could offer a prayer before we leave."

  His eyes narrowed, and that false smile returned, a shadow of what it had been before. He knew. He knew I wasn’t a priestess of Naieth.

  My heart raced as I tried to think of what to say, my mind scrambling for a way out of the situation. The mural loomed over me, the countless eyes of the serpentine figure seeming to watch my every move.

  "I... I would be honored to," I stammered, hoping he wouldn’t notice the hesitation in my voice.

  Lomu’s gaze remained fixed on me, his smile never wavering. "Good," he said quietly. "Then let us begin."

  As he waited for me to start, I could feel the weight of the lie pressing down on me. I had no idea how to perform a prayer to Naieth, no idea what words to say or what gestures to make. All I knew was that I had to play along, to somehow convince Lomu that I was who he thought I was, at least for the time being.

  I stepped forward, standing before the mural, and closed my eyes. I tried to recall anything I had heard about the worship of Naieth, any scraps of knowledge that might help me fake my way through this. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but I forced myself to focus.

  After a moment, I began to speak, my voice soft and musical,

  "Great Naieth, Mother of the endless sea, where the flesh and blood of the world intertwine, we seek your grace as we journey through your boundless realm. Let your countless eyes, like distant stars in the night sky, watch over us with a gaze that pierces through the veil of fear. Let your many mouths whisper secrets from the bloodied tides, speaking truths to the soul and guide us through the currents."

  "Protect us from the unseen terrors that slither among the living, from the ancient evils that stir beneath the waves. Lead us through the treacherous waters, where whispers of the forgotten echo and flesh reigns supreme. In your cold embrace, may we find our way amidst the turmoil, shielded by your presence, until we reach the sanctuary of your watery embrace."

  the words seemed to spring out of me like a long forgotten lullaby, they almost felt genuine. but the prayer still felt hollow to me, but I poured as much sincerity as I could muster into each word. Lomu’s eyes were on me, watching, judging, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze.

  When I finished, I took a deep breath and stepped back. The room was silent, the air thick with unspoken tension. Lomu didn’t speak right away, his expression unreadable, and I couldn’t tell if I had succeeded or if he saw through my act.

  Then, he gave a slow nod. "Well said, Priestess," he murmured. "I’m sure my mother would have been pleased."

  His words were calm, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was testing me, waiting for me to slip up. I forced myself to meet his gaze, trying to project confidence even as doubt gnawed at me from within.

  "Thank you," I replied, managing a small, polite smile.

  Lomu studied me for another moment before turning away, his attention shifting back to the mural. "Come," he said finally, his voice softer now. "we have a Basilisk to kill."

  I followed him out of the chamber, my mind racing

  As we walked, I couldn’t shake the image of the mural from my mind. The serpentine figure of Naieth, with her countless eyes and fanged maws, seemed to watch me still,