Chapter 235
The room goes still when Shoal raises his hand. His black eyes gleam in a way they shouldn’t underneath the room’s fluorescent lighting—ancient, unblinking, unreadable. No one speaks, not even Wake, who’s still bristling beside me. We’re all waiting for the same thing: the part where this stops sounding like lunacy.
Cora folds her arms, her voice flat and full of suspicion. “It sounds like you’ve been busy, Shoal. All in the name of clearing an ancient evil of crimes that can not be substantiated by anyone…other than yourself.”
Shoal doesn’t flinch. “Yes.”
Wake scoffs. “And you call me arrogant.”
Shoal grins. “She is not wrong, then. But neither am I.”
I study him closely. There’s something in his voice—not zealotry, not desperation. Certainty. It sets my nerves on edge.
“Then explain,” I say. “Tell us how this Great Plan of yours justifies waking a creature that, by all accounts, nearly ended our world once already and plans to do so again.”
Shoal nods slowly. “Thousands of years ago, before the gods were gods, there were the strongest of us, and each ruled over their own domain. Leviathan was a part of that whole—he was balance, the dark roots that allowed the others to grow. As keeper of the deep, the unseen, the necessary destruction that makes way for rebirth, his existence was essential to all life, both on land and sea.”
“It’s why they couldn’t kill him,” I say.
Shoal nods. “But after Leviathan’s perceived betrayal, the clans split, taking sides. Some wanted to keep the power Leviathan gave them, while others felt that it was power meant only for the Conclave to wield. The first wars began. For a time, the Conclave fought alongside their clans, pitted against one another. Eventually, they came together in an effort to stop the war that they themselves had caused. Their solution was to Electra, Dagon, Tangaroa, Amphitrite, Ægir, Nu, and Olokun—they all turned against Leviathan and sealed him away, blaming him for what he’d done, warning their progeny of the dangers to come. All fabricated, of course.”
My skin prickles. “And the power? What happened to the power Leviathan gave to the Enkians?”
His smirk returns. “I suspect that you already know the answer to that. You feel the truth of it every time the Ether sparks in your blood.”
“The Heirs.”
“The Conclave stripped the Enkians of their power, and not just the power given to them by Leviathan, all of the natural gifts that made our people what they were, the power that they themselves had exploited to make Enkian society what it was. They drained it all, used it to seal Leviathan away, but it proved to be too much for their mortal bodies.”
Cora grimaces. “Their bodies were dispersed throughout the Ether, and their powers were then transferred into their strongest direct descendants, those most capable of withstanding the power. Yes, we know this part; it’s the rest that we’ve only got your word to go on.”
Shoal spreads his arms, trying his best to look innocent. “Is that not enough?”
Wake growls again.
Shoal sighs and stands. He begins to pace slowly, his long coat dragging along the floor. “I’ve spent decades searching. For the truth. For those who would listen. Most didn’t. Some tried to kill me. But others saw what I saw. They joined me. And together, we’ve gathered much of the strength that was once lost to our kind.”
I look at the Enkians sitting silently across the table, lingering on every word Shoal speaks as if he’s some messiah. The feels colder now, heavier. With so many Heirs in one place… I know without a shadow of a doubt that the gods are listening.
Shoal turns to us, eyes glowing now, brighter than before. “When Leviathan wakes, our world will end. But what if there were a way to stop the end of days before it begins? Not by fighting the old gods. But by stepping into our own as their replacements and reuniting with our forgotten brother?”
Cora tenses. “What are you saying?”
“This is Lile, Ægir’s Heir,” Shoal says, gesturing at one of the strangers.
He’s tall and sharp-eyed, with dark sea-green skin and a crown of bone coral woven through his braids. His stare is direct, unflinching. Every inch of him radiates regality and battle-worn resolve.
“I was chosen the moment my older sister was slain protecting our home,” he says, his voice deep and cool. “Our Clan was fractured. Ægir’s gifts came to me in my grief. They showed me truth through pain. I followed Shoal because I saw where the real threat lies—division, fear, stagnation. Leviathan is not our doom. He’s our reckoning.”
Shoal gestures to the next. “Elanora, Amphitrite’s Heir.”
Elanora steps forward, the light flickering across her pearlescent skin. Her voice is almost musical, but there’s steel beneath the softness.
“I was born with nothing. The last of my line, unworthy. Until Amphitrite called to me during the last eclipse. She gave me her voice—and her silence. I witnessed Shoal’s vision. I saw a world reshaped not by fire, but by water and will. I joined him because my people deserve to be heard, and I will see my bloodline thrive once more.”
My stomach knots. These people believe. They’ve lived pain and loss and come out the other side convinced that Shoal, with all his smooth-talking and swagger, is the key to all their problems.
Shoal motions to the final figure. “Miore. Nu’s newly appointed Heir.”
Miore is the tallest of them, slimmer than most other Enkian men I’ve seen, but his presence is anything but weak. His skin is deep brown, his dark hair streaked with silver despite his apparent youth. His eyes shine with barely restrained grief.
“My predecessor was my mother,” he says, voice trembling with fury. “She died along with the rest of my family in a political assassination orchestrated by Olokun’s Clan, who feared what Nu’s line could do. I took the mantle the moment her blood touched the sea. Nu didn’t want vengeance. He wanted restoration. Shoal didn’t offer a throne. He offered unity. I joined him because I refuse to let another generation die for a war they didn’t start.”
I glance at Wake, who’s as tense as I’ve ever seen him. Cora, too, looks rattled. These aren’t rebels. They’re Heirs like me. Heirs with power, conviction, and a plan that terrifies me.
Wake steps forward, fists clenched. “Speak plainly, Shoal. What are you trying to do?”
Shoal stares at Wake, jaw clenched, looking more identical than ever. “I won’t wait for the world to end in chaos. It should happen on our terms. This is why I plan to wake Leviathan myself.”
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