Lucius's perspective
We left without much ado. No time for goodbyes. Not even to tell our friends we'd be gone for a few months. What would they think? Well, it's not like I cared too much at the time. Not enough to do anything about it. Still… letting them know was important. Manners give structure to chaos, or so they say.
Especially Alicia. After everything that happened, she sought out Isolde and me, but we never saw her. Well, I did, during meals, but we didn't talk. I'd finish early, ask a servant for food for Isolde, and retreat to our room. That was it. A temporary routine… though temporary routines have a nasty habit of stretching until they become permanent.
Anyway…
We were already on the ship. It rocked with the waves as if the sea were trying to shake our existence off its back. Mom and Dad were in their cabin, next to ours. I stared out the small round window at the sea stretching until the horizon dissolved. The sunrise painted the water an unreal gold. Unsettling in its beauty, like something was waiting beneath the surface.
And Isolde…
"Buuagh!" She was vomiting into a bucket.
"That's why I told you to stay in bed…" I scolded, my voice teetering between brotherly and clinical.
She pulled her head out of the bucket, eyes wide, completely seasick. "Sorry…" But then the vomiting continued. "Buuagh!"
I nodded to myself. The human body has its limits, and hers seemed tied to the stability of the ground beneath her feet. I smirked slightly and turned back to the sea. Then I squinted. The water was moving oddly. I tilted my head. It surged upward, splashed by tentacles. More tentacles emerged, forming a path.
A path heading toward us.
The ship lurched, and the passengers' voices outside shattered the illusion of calm.
Isolde lifted her head from the bucket and looked at me, confused. "What's happening?" she asked, struggling to stand, searching for balance that seemed elusive.
"I don't know," I replied. And that's what worried me most.
The cabin door burst open. Mom stood there, agitated, but she sighed when she saw us. "You're okay…"
"What's going on?" I asked, gripping the bed. The ship kept rocking as if trying to throw us off.
"It's nothing. Just a… hiccup."
"Huh?"
"Buuagh!" Isolde vomited again. This time, on the cabin floor.
"Gross."
"Sorry… All this sudden movement's messing with me… Buuagh!"
Mom rubbed her back, barely keeping her own balance. I looked out the window…
And my eyes widened.
Hundreds of tentacles. It wasn't my imagination. Not this time. We were surrounded.
"Where's Dad?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the sea.
"He's… well… you'll see soon enough…"
Huh?
The ship jolted violently. I lost my balance and fell. Mom grabbed my hand and hugged me.
"You okay, my boy?"
For some reason, my cheeks flushed. A physiological response more annoying than useful. I nodded. Stood and headed straight for the door.
"Where are you going?" Mom asked, holding Isolde to keep her from falling.
"To see Dad."
"No! It's dangerous."
Of course it was dangerous. But staying still was too. Besides, this could be experience… or at least, information.
"It wasn't worse than what happened in the kingdom," I said, and walked out.
Tentacles wrapped around the ship's hull and masts. I saw passengers staring, paralyzed. None acted. Then I saw Dad heading toward the stern. I followed.
A massive tentacle blocked my path.
And then, I remembered.
According to the Scriptures of Paradox, you don't attack krakens. Doing so starts a war. If one dies, the Kraken King's wrath is unleashed. That's why no one did anything. It wasn't cowardice—it was prudence… or superstition, which ends up being the same in cases like this.
So, in theory, I shouldn't do anything either.
Still, I wanted to see what Dad would do. The ship shook again. I grabbed a mast. My fingers ached, but my mind stayed sharp.
I saw Dad leap. He landed on a tentacle and, without warning, propelled himself toward the ship's rear.
A BOOM rang out, and everything shook… Dad had struck the ship.
The wind hit like it wanted to rip us from the hull. My body was thrown, slamming into a wall. I got up with effort. Looking ahead, we were moving at insane speed.
The tentacles were gone.
But the wind… it felt like it was breaking in front of us.
Everyone clung to whatever they could. Good thing they were all men, because if there'd been children or women… someone would've had to hold them.
Wait…
Aren't I a child too?
Then… who's holding me to keep me from flying off?
I looked up and saw Dad. He held me tightly, gripping the cabin wall. His fingers… pierced the wood. No finesse. Just raw strength. His teeth clenched, eyes narrowed against the cutting wind.
We were moving at brutal speed. Inhuman. The world around seemed to slow, like we were trapped in a photograph warped by velocity. Dad's arm started to loosen… and then he let me go.
He jumped into the sea.
I leaned over the ship's edge, reinforcing my body with Syrix to avoid being thrown off.
And there he was.
Running on water.
A scene that, if I hadn't witnessed it, I'd have dismissed as poorly written fantasy. How the hell can a man run on water at over two thousand kilometers per hour?
I asked myself that. Even knowing the answer.
At Mach 2—twice the speed of sound—the air's friction becomes blazing knives. The human body turns to ash under such force… but he wasn't ordinary. He was my father.
He used blood control magic. Not just to reinforce his body to the impossible, but to distribute his vital flow like a smith forging armor. Every drop of blood answered his will with surgical precision, shaping his muscles like liquid steel. A perfect balance of tension and adaptation.
And it didn't stop there.
He redirected some of his blood to the soles of his feet, releasing controlled pressure that repelled the water without breaking its surface tension. Each step was a bounce. A strike of logic applied to magical physics.
"Is he going to jump!?" I shouted. Pointless. No one could hear me over the wind's roar.
And he did.
With one push, he soared. His body sliced through the sky. In midair, he spun and spread his arms, as if embracing the atmosphere itself.
The wind… responded.
It detonated the air in front of the ship. Not an explosion. It was like the sea itself held its breath. The wind screamed, the ship groaned. I clung with all the strength my channeling allowed.
And then… the speed stopped.
Silence.
Not a single wave hit the hull.
Just him, suspended in the air, descending slowly onto the deck. The smoke of his evaporated blood floated around him. A supernatural aura that defied comprehension.
I'd never seen anyone use blood control like that. It was terrifying. And fascinating.
"Lucius, are you okay!?" Dad approached, knelt, and grabbed my shoulders.
"Y-yeah…" I answered, still replaying what I'd just seen.
"God… Wasn't Erika watching you?"
"Of course I was!" Mom shouted from behind, visibly annoyed. "Lucius Van D'Arques! You little… I told you not to go out, and you disobeyed!"
She stormed over. Hands on hips, brow furrowed, teeth clenched. She raised her arm. I closed my eyes.
But no blow came.
Instead, I felt warmth.
She was hugging me.
"You scared me… Don't do that again."
I hugged her back, confused. This… this had never happened. Not like this.
No. It was because she wasn't like my mother from my past life. She didn't use violence as a tool. She used… warmth.
For a second, I felt weak. Submissive. Like an actual child. I thought she'd hit me. My body expected it. But she didn't.
"Sorry, Mom…" I said, almost automatically.
"Don't do it again, got it?" she said, pulling back.
I nodded. She ruffled my hair and smiled.
Isolde approached and raised her arm.
"Ouch!" I yelped. She'd smacked me on the head.
"Why'd you go without me?"
"You feeling better?" I dodged.
"Huh? Oh… yeah. But still, answer me!"
"Sorry, sorry… Don't scold me, and I'll tell you how amazing that was…"
Her eyes lit up. She grinned ear to ear.
"Really!?"
I nodded. A faint smile slipped out.
"Alright, family. We've arrived… at the continent of Aeloria," Dad announced, looking toward the shore.
I peered over. A wooden gangway stretched from the ship to the dock. Slightly slanted. A worn carpet covered the creaking planks, groaning under the steps of passengers hurrying to disembark.
I didn't blame them. After what we'd just been through… it was natural to want solid ground as soon as possible.
I don't know why it made me laugh. Guess it's that or trembling with anxiety.
"Wooow!" Isolde mocked, sarcasm dripping. She eyed the fields around the port. "I expected, I dunno, tall houses and the kingdom right away… Where are the Veil Masters here?"
Her disappointment was obvious.
Well, I expected something else too. But it seems in this world, ports aren't next to kingdoms. Same thing in Veloria. Maybe here, kingdoms don't want to see the sea. Or what might come out of it. Makes sense.
"Easy, Isolde," Mom said, patting her head. "The kingdom's further ahead. We'll see it when we move on by carriage."
"Ugh! More travel!?"
She was not happy. Understandably.
"You gonna get sick again?" I teased, squishing her cheeks with both hands.
"No! I'm not getting sick anymore… I already puked everything with what happened…"
"Not sure if I should be happy or grossed out…"
But it didn't matter.
I was excited. We'd have time together, as a family. That was enough for me.
What I didn't know was that… this calm was just the prelude to something much bigger. An adventure that would drag me close. Too close to everything I swore to leave behind.