That night, the village felt softer.
Lanterns glowed along the paths, their light warm and steady. The sea was calm, waves rolling in slow and gentle, as if nothing important had happened that day.
But Euryale couldn't sleep.
He lay on his mat, staring at the ceiling, listening to the familiar sounds of home—the creak of wood, the wind through the open window, the distant call of night birds. His White Core pulsed quietly in his chest, steady and patient.
Ezrael's words kept returning.
Observe. Listen. Prepare.
Euryale turned onto his side with a quiet groan."Prepare for what?" he whispered.
The sea answered with a soft hush against the shore.
The next morning, Pa was already outside, fixing a net. He didn't look surprised when Euryale joined him.
"You're awake early," Pa said.
"I didn't sleep much," Euryale admitted.
Pa nodded, as if he already knew. "Big days do that."
They worked in silence for a while. Pa's hands moved with practiced ease, tying knots, checking rope. Euryale watched, then copied the movements without thinking.
"You met someone yesterday," Pa said casually.
Euryale froze. "You… noticed?"
Pa snorted. "You came home staring at the horizon like the sea owed you answers."
Euryale sighed. "His name is Ezrael. He's from the Academy."
Pa didn't stop working. "And?"
"He said I'm not ready," Euryale said. "But that I will be."
Pa finally looked at him. His eyes were calm, steady—like the deep water past the reef."That sounds honest."
Euryale frowned. "Most people would say that's scary."
Pa smiled faintly. "Scary things aren't always bad. Sometimes they just mean change."
Euryale looked down at his hands. "What if the Academy takes me away from here?"
Pa's smile softened. "Then me and ma will come to take you back."
That helped more than Euryale expected.
___________________________________
Later, Ma handed Euryale a bowl of warm soup and studied him over the rim.
"You're thinking too loudly again," she said.
"I met someone important," Euryale replied.
"So did I," Ma said. "Once. He asked questions that made me uncomfortable."
Euryale blinked. "What happened?"
"I grew," Ma said simply. "Uncomfortably."
Euryale laughed despite himself. "That doesn't sound encouraging."
Ma smiled. "It is. You don't grow without stretching."
Lyra popped up beside him, already halfway through her bread."Is he the sky boy?" she asked.
"Yes," Euryale said. "And no, you can't follow him."
"I wasn't going to," Lyra said quickly. "I just wanted to ask if clouds get lonely."
Euryale groaned. "Why would you ask that?"
"Because," Lyra said seriously, "he looked lonely."
Euryale went quiet.
That afternoon, Euryale went to the shore alone.
He stood barefoot in the wet sand and closed his eyes.
Please, he thought—not asking for power, not for answers. Just… presence.
The water reached for him.
Not fast. Not wild.
Gentle.
It wrapped around his ankles like a greeting.
"I don't know where I'm going," Euryale whispered.
The sea pulled back, then returned, steady and patient.
He remembered something—not a memory, not clearly. Just a feeling.
Standing here before. Long ago. Stronger. Older.
The sea hadn't changed.
Neither had its trust.
Euryale opened his eyes and smiled faintly."Okay," he said. "I'll listen."
The water shimmered softly, pleased.
That evening, the village gathered for dinner. Laughter filled the air, and Silas told a very exaggerated story about "almost becoming famous yesterday."
"No you didn't," Lyra said. "You tripped over a rope."
"I tripped heroically," Silas argued.
Euryale laughed with them, warmth settling in his chest.
He wasn't leaving yet.
But he knew now—this place, this life, was not the end of his path.
Only the beginning.
Far beyond the village, clouds shifted slowly across the sky.
And somewhere on a road leading back toward the Academy, Ezrael paused.
He looked up, eyes thoughtful.
"The tide has begun to move," he murmured.
Then he continued walking, already certain—
They would meet again.