Caria smirked. "We’ll see how long that lasts once breakfast’s ntioned."
Rhys smiled at the familiar rhythm of their banter. He and Lyra were given a small room facing the sea — simple, but peaceful. When they stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was the sound of waves beneath the floorboards, steady and soft, like a heartbeat.
Lyra stepped toward the open balcony, resting her hands on the rail. "It’s beautiful," she whispered.
Rhys joined her. The moonlight touched her hair, turning it almost silver, and for a long mont he said nothing — just listened to the sea with her.
Finally, she turned slightly toward him. "Do you think the ocean dreams of the sky?"
He blinked. "That’s... a strange question."
"Maybe," she said softly. "But I wonder if it ever looks up and wishes it could touch the stars."
Rhys looked up — at the wide stretch of night where stars shimred like fragnts of magic. "Maybe that’s why it reflects them," he said after a pause. "So it can hold them, even just for a little while."
Lyra’s eyes ward, and a faint smile curved her lips. "That’s... a lovely thought."
The wind stirred again, carrying the scent of salt and distant bells.
Below them, the waves whispered against the coral pillars, like old stories told in a language only the sea rembered.
And as the night deepened into stillness, Rhys found himself thinking — maybe Lyra was right.
Maybe the sea really did dream.
The night slipped quietly into dawn.
When Rhys stirred, the world was painted in pale gold — sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains like lted amber. The rhythmic sound of waves was still there, gentle and steady beneath the inn, and for a mont he simply lay there, watching the faint shimr of light dance across the ceiling.
Lyra stood by the balcony again, her hair loose and glowing faintly in the early light. She was watching the horizon, where the sun t the sea in a blur of rose and blue. The pendant she had bought last night hung from her fingers, spinning slowly as it caught the wind. It humd — a faint, soft tone, like the sea rembering a song.
"Morning," Rhys said quietly, his voice still rough with sleep.
Lyra turned, smiling. "Good morning. The sea’s awake before everyone else."
He stretched, sitting up. "The sea doesn’t need sleep."
She tilted her head. "Neither did I. Not much, at least."
He stood beside her, looking out. The docks were already stirring — fishern hauling nets, rchants unpacking crates, and the faint buzz of mana engines from ships preparing to depart. The city was alive again, glowing in the sun instead of moonlight.
"Aria’s going to drag us all out of bed soon," Rhys said. "Might as well be ready before she decides to break down the door."
Lyra smiled, a soft laugh escaping her. "You know her well."
"Too well," he muttered, though the fondness in his tone betrayed him.
They dressed and stepped downstairs to find exactly what Rhys predicted — Aria, bright-eyed and impatient, already waiting in the lobby with a skewer of fried fish in hand.
"There you are!" she said, waving dramatically. "I was about to unleash Operation Wake-the-Dead!"
Caria, half-asleep beside her, grumbled, "You already did. Twice."
Sophia was sipping tea, serene as ever. "I suggested we leave her behind. No one listened."
Aria gasped in mock outrage. "Betrayal! From my own team!"
Rhys chuckled, brushing past her. "You said we’re eting at the coral gates, right?"
"Yep!" Aria said, popping the rest of her breakfast into her mouth. "Biggest market in the city opens at sunrise. You’ll see — there’s a whole section built right over the water. Magic trinkets, enchanted tools, rare ores, sea runes — basically, heaven."
Lyra looked intrigued. "Sea runes?"
Sophia nodded. "They’re carved by tidecallers — mages who inscribe spells into coral. So are said to hold echoes of ancient sea spirits."
"That’s... beautiful," Lyra murmured, her eyes lighting faintly.
Aria grinned. "You’ll fit right in."
The group stepped out into the bright morning, the air crisp with salt and sunlight. The path wound down toward the lower terraces, where the Coral Gates shimred — massive arches of living coral laced with runic veins that pulsed like slow heartbeats. Beyond them stretched the Sea Market, a dazzling sprawl of floating stalls and bridges connected by glass walkways.
Mana lanterns hovered overhead, their colors shifting like the tide, and the calls of vendors filled the air:
"Fresh siren pearls!""Enchanted nets — guaranteed kraken-proof!""Mana silk from the Abyssal Loom!"
Aria’s eyes sparkled like a child in a candy store. "Okay, where do we start?"
"Sowhere cheap," Caria muttered.
Sophia sighed. "That narrows it down to nowhere."
Lyra walked slowly ahead, her gaze drifting toward a stall near the water’s edge. It was smaller, quieter — run by a cloaked figure with gloved hands sorting through faintly glowing shells. Each one emitted a low, echoing hum, like voices trapped in glass.
Rhys followed her. "Sothing catch your eye?"
Lyra nodded. "Those... they’re singing."
The rchant looked up, his eyes hidden beneath the hood. His voice was low, almost a whisper. "Songs of the deep. Echoes of what the sea rembers. Each shell holds a mory — of a place, a creature, or a wish once whispered to the tide."
Aria leaned in. "That’s creepy. I love it."
Lyra hesitated before touching one of the shells — and the instant her fingers brushed it, a faint vision shimred across the air: a swirl of water, a distant song, and the faint outline of sothing ancient stirring beneath the waves.
Rhys stiffened slightly. "What was that?"
The rchant smiled faintly. "The sea rembers those who listen."
Lyra drew her hand back, the image fading. "That... wasn’t just mory."
Caria frowned. "What do you an?"
Lyra’s voice lowered. "Sothing’s still out there — alive."
For the first ti since they’d arrived in Bluewave, the music of the market seed to waver — like a note struck wrong. The sea breeze turned colder.
Rhys exchanged a quiet glance with her. He could feel it too — that subtle pulse in the air, like the ocean itself was holding its breath.
Aria’s grin faded. "Well... looks like we might have more than shopping waiting for us."
Rhys sighed softly. "Figures. Can’t even have one peaceful morning."
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