He let out a long, quiet breath.
"...I have done enough," he murmured, his voice low, heavy with lingering wrath.
He looked down once more toward the mortal world. The creation he had unleashed still pulsed faintly in Erik's laboratory, a vessel filled with divine anger and corrupted beauty.
"It will carry my message," he said at last, his tone calmer. "Any more, and I would break the bounds that hold us."
Ursula nodded silently, her embrace never loosening. Her glow continued to warm the space between them, warding off the remnants of his fury.
Meanwhile, in the astral sea Tide's rage began to falter.
It wasn't reason that stayed his wrath, nor the pleading of gods beyond his walls, but the faint trembling cry of a child.
Through the divinity of his storm, the god heard it, a little girl's sob, carried on the wind from the coast of Erik's kingdom. Her voice was small, fragile, and terrified, barely piercing the sound of crashing waves.
