Ryder and Seris didn't stop until the ridge was far behind them. The scent of burnt stone still hung in the air, mixing with the cold wind that whipped across the barren plains. Both knew the Echobinders wouldn't give up easily.
The broken city of Kareth's Hollow lay ahead—once a thriving hub of Tideborn power, now a skeleton of shattered buildings and flooded streets.
Seris glanced over her shoulder. "They'll send more. Faster next time."
Ryder tightened his grip on the faintly glowing spiral on his arm. "Then we need to be ready."
They descended into the ruins. Water pooled in cracked courtyards, reflecting the dim sky. Strange shapes stirred beneath the surface—faint ripples hinting at creatures hidden deep in the drowned foundations.
"Why here?" Ryder asked. "Why Kareth's Hollow?"
"Because it's one of the last Tidewells untouched by the Concord's cleansing," Seris replied. "The ancient energy here is raw, unstable. Perfect for learning."
Ryder nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere. Each step felt heavier, as if the weight of unseen memories pressed against him.
Ahead, a narrow alley opened onto a plaza dominated by a collapsed statue—its form lost to time, but the base still inscribed with the seal of the Abyss Concord.
"The Leviathan's mark," Seris said softly. "You're walking into history."
A sudden sound shattered the quiet—a low growl from the water. Ryder froze as a massive shape emerged: a creature part stone, part water, with glowing blue eyes and jagged limbs. It was a Guardian—a relic bound to protect the Tidewell.
Seris moved beside him. "Remember, control your fear. The Guardian feeds on doubt."
Ryder closed his eyes, focusing on the pressure inside him. The echo from the Sanctum stirred—the pulse of the Leviathan's power.
He raised his right arm. The air thickened, becoming heavy and cold.
With a deep breath, he unleashed Drownspace again, but this time with control. The sphere expanded slowly, enveloping the Guardian without crushing it.
The creature paused, sensing the power around it. It hissed but did not attack.
Ryder spoke aloud, steady and clear. "I'm not your enemy. I seek knowledge, not destruction."
The Guardian's eyes flickered, the blue light softening.
Seris smiled. "Good. You're learning."
The creature slowly retreated back into the water, leaving the plaza silent once more.
Ryder exhaled, feeling the strain ease from his muscles.
"Let's move," Seris said, scanning the shadows.
They entered a half-collapsed building where faint lights glowed from broken windows. Inside, other Tideborn had made a refuge—a hidden camp for those resisting the Concord.
An older man greeted them, his hair silver and his eyes sharp.
"You survived," he said to Seris. "And brought a Leviathan with you."
Ryder nodded, but said nothing.
The man introduced himself as Eldric, leader of the Driftborne—a small band of Mythic outcasts.
"We heard rumors," Eldric said. "A Leviathan has returned from beyond the Rift. You're the hope some of us needed."
Ryder swallowed. The weight of expectation was real now.
Eldric handed him a small, ancient device—an orb etched with shifting symbols.
"This will help you read the Tide Script. Without it, the powers will be impossible to master."
Ryder took the orb carefully, feeling its subtle warmth.
"That's just the beginning," Eldric warned. "The Concord will tighten their net. You'll need allies—and strength."
Later that night, Ryder sat outside the camp, the orb glowing softly in his palm.
Seris joined him, her face illuminated by the firelight.
"You're different now," she said quietly.
He looked up. "I don't feel like myself."
"Because you're not. Not anymore."
He clenched his fist. "I have to be ready. Whatever comes."
Her gaze softened. "You're not alone. Not while I'm here."
Ryder met her eyes. For the first time, he felt the fragile thread of trust.
But deep inside, a question burned: How many more trials would it take before he understood what it truly meant to be the Leviathan's heir?