Niegal didn't know how long he was in the water.
The deeper he dove, the louder the cries became.
Elena.
Her sorrow thrummed through the currents like a siren's lament. Even as his lungs screamed for air, he didn't stop. Not until his vision blurred. Not until the ache in his ribs turned sharp and final.
And then-
He broke the surface.
Dazed, trembling, his head whipped upward to meet a sky he somehow recognized.
The beach.
The one where he'd seen Elena in dreams.
But this time… the dream had soured.
A howling hurakán raged over the shoreline. Waves, tall and brutal as beasts, battered the coast. The wind screamed as if to drive him back, rain needling into his skin. Thunder cracked. The sky churned.
The lion inside stirred.
Not in confusion.
Not in fear.
But in direction.
Niegal planted his feet into the sinking mud. His eyes scanned the horizon, blinking through the storm.
Every step he took seemed to pull her farther away.
The storm hissed, Stay away.
The lion growled, Go.
His muscles ached with doubt. His heart ached more.
"Do you want to take over?" he asked the lion aloud, teeth gritted against the wind.
A deep growl rose from his throat- not fully his.
IT WAS NOT I WHO DROVE OUR GODDESS AWAY.
I WILL AID YOU.
BUT YOU MUST FACE HER YOURSELF.
Niegal swallowed hard. Shame flushed his cheeks. But he didn't stop.
He pressed forward.
Eventually, battered and soaked, he found it, a cave carved into the cliffside.
Above its entrance, the unmistakable spiral: the swirl of Guabancex, ancient and terrible.
A hiss greeted him. Not wind, not rain.
The snake.
Calling.
Niegal placed a hand against the wet stone, took a breath, and entered.
Each step echoed in silence.
Water dripped from his clothes and hair, splashing onto the stone floor. Farther in, the darkness grew absolute. The stalagmites began to shift- no longer stone, but salt. Carved from centuries of sea water and spirit touch. Towering, sharp, jagged.
He could see nothing.
Not even his hands.
But still the lion guided him.
He walked on.
Then… water.
He heard it.
Swirling. Whispering. Calling.
A soft glow broke the pitch, barely there. A pulse of blue, like a heartbeat from the depths.
He ran toward it.
Niegal emerged into a cavern filled with seawater. It shimmered like moonlight poured into obsidian. All around him, whispers. Not just words, but memories.
He heard the crack of the Inquisition's whip, the words that scarred her soul.
"Witch Whore."
"Heretic."
"You belong to the Church, to me."
"YOU CHOSE THIS."
"You don't get to act like a child surprised to be burned by fire."
He flinched with every word, the gravity weighing heavy on him. The lion roared in pain.
"This is what echoes in her head, consort of the goddess." His beast growled to him.
His shame hung heavy, a shroud over his soul.
And there she was.
Elena.
Suspended beneath the surface, limbs loose, hair curling like ink around her face. Her eyes were half-lidded. Her body floated in the light like something forgotten, sacred, and dead.
Niegal choked.
The lion surged, roared in need.
The snake stirred.
Niegal stepped to the edge, eyes brimming.
"If I die here," he whispered, "then let it be because it's what I deserve."
And he dove.
The deeper he swam, the louder the voices became.
They taunted him. Judged him. Echoed with every word he'd screamed at her.
"You do not get to abandon us."
He hadn't meant it.
He didn't mean it.
He was afraid. And he'd failed her.
"Elena," he shouted through bubbles, "I'm sorry. I should've held you. I should've told you you were still my home. Please…"
But she didn't respond.
More bubbles slipped from her lips. Her body didn't move.
And then-
Something inside her did.
A ripple passed through her chest. Her mouth opened, too wide, and the snake burst out.
It grew. And grew.
Coiling. Writhing. Towering over him in the depths.
Eyes violet fire, mouth dripping molten gold.
Niegal stilled. He didn't scream. Didn't swim away.
He just stared into her terrible eyes.
The lava dripped inches from him but it didn't burn.
He steeled himself. This was his judgement.
The serpent moved closer, its face inches from his.
Then, with no warning, its tail whipped across his face, cracking his jaw and splitting his lip.
Blood bloomed in the water.
Niegal didn't flinch.
He took it.
It's what he deserved.
A slow coil.
The serpent reared, then dove back into Elena's throat.
Her body jerked violently once.
Then stilled.
Her eyes opened.
Señora Behike stood alone at the edge of the sacred pool, soaked and silent. She'd waited a full day, chanting beneath the hammering of the storm. A hurakán battered the mountainside, threatening to tear open the sanctuary.
The people had locked themselves inside.
But the old woman kept vigil.
And now… a ripple.
She gasped. Bent low. Reached.
Pulled.
Niegal broke the surface, gasping, water streaming from his mouth and nose. In his arms-
Elena.
Limp. Cold. Swollen with the life growing inside her.
She didn't stir.
But a faint hiss escaped her lips.
Niegal knelt over her, shaking her.
"Mi amor… we're back… we're back now…" he whispered, brushing soaked curls from her brow. "I found you. I found you."
He pressed his forehead to hers. "Please. You always found me. Now it's my turn."
Tears streamed from his silver eyes. His shaking hand slid down to her stomach.
A kick.
He gasped.
The child lived.
The serpent slithered beneath Elena's skin. Silent. Watchful.
Señora Behike wept.
"Elena sleeps," she murmured. "The child grows. The vessel… still lives."
Then, a hiss.
The scar on Elena's arm glowed brighter. Mana curled in the air like steam.
A voice rattled from within:
"She rejects her nature. She must awaken. Or she will be devoured by what she carries."
Niegal closed his eyes. Pulled her tighter against his chest.
"I found you. I've got you. You hear me? I've got you."
The lion was silent.
The snake… listening.
He stood, lifting her with reverent strength.
La Señora Behike fell into step beside him, saying nothing.
Together, they stepped into the storm's fury.
The winds howled.
Lightning split the sky.
But still, they walked home.
And behind them, the waters shimmered once more.