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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

The ocean whispered to him—not in words, but in rhythm. The tide, the pull, the hush between waves—it all spoke in pulses only a Nerevar could feel.

Kaelen stood on the jagged cliffs of Nerevia, bare feet against the warm, slick stone. Wind rushed up from the sea below, carrying salt and mana-rich mist that clung to his skin like a veil. Beneath him churned the Ocean of Arcana, glowing faintly in hues of aquamarine. That wasn't just seawater—it was the life-blood of their world, the source of all Aqua mana in Nymarielle.

And tomorrow, it would either baptize him or bury him.

"Still brooding like a storm cloud?" a familiar voice called.

Kaelen turned slightly as Yara Solenne, braided hair wind-tossed and eyes glowing sea-glass green, strode up beside him. She was already clad in the ceremonial robes of the Initiates, trimmed in silver and blue.

"I'm not brooding," Kaelen muttered. "I'm… listening."

Yara arched a brow. "To the ocean? Or to the voices in your head?"

Kaelen smirked, though tension tightened his chest. "Maybe both."

She softened, just a little. "Tomorrow's the Rite of the First Flow, Kael. You'll be fine. You always are."

"People stronger than me have drowned in those depths."

"True," she said. "But they weren't born with the blood of Tidecallers."

He glanced down at his palm. There, etched into flesh since birth, glowed a faint Aqua Sigil—a natural arcane mark, shaped like a spiral of droplets and waves. A sign that he was destined for more than common fishing lines or water-lifting spells.

Still, destiny didn't mean safety. Or victory.

"Do you ever wonder," Kaelen asked, "what's waiting for us down there? Beyond the layers of mana and pressure? The stories say… things sleep in the trench."

Yara didn't respond. But her silence was answer enough.

🌊 The Morning of the Rite

The sacred pool shimmered under twin moons. A hundred Initiates stood in silence, surrounded by elders of the Tideborn Order. Incense wafted through the air—seaweed, pearl dust, kraken oil—each chosen to resonate with mana flow.

Kaelen stepped forward, bare-chested and calm on the outside, heart thundering on the inside.

"Kaelen Nerevar, son of Tyrus the Tidecaller," intoned Elder Myrren, holding the Shell of Arcas. "Do you offer your breath and body to the Current Eternal?"

Kaelen nodded. "I do."

"Then may your soul sink… and surface reborn."

He stepped into the pool. Water rose to his knees, then waist, then swallowed him whole.

🌊 Descent into the Depths

He sank.

Deeper than seemed natural. The light above vanished almost instantly, swallowed by curtains of mana-rich sea. His lungs screamed. But Kaelen focused inward. He reached for his mana pool—still nascent, flickering like a match in a hurricane.

He breathed—not air, but mana.

A crack echoed through his spirit as his Aqua Arcane Core surged. Threads of water mana twined around his limbs. Glyphs etched themselves into his vision. Then—something stirred.

From the black.

A shadow, miles long, glided through the trench below.

Abyssion. The Leviathan of Tides.

It coiled slowly, serpent-like, crowned in coral, eyes like tidal vortices. Its voice didn't come through water—it came through Kaelen's mind.

"Why do you dive, child of shallow waves?"

Kaelen gritted his teeth. "To claim my right. To awaken."

"The Current tests all. Those who falter are unworthy."

The Leviathan surged forward—and slammed him with a tide of condensed Arcana.

Kaelen screamed, body locking in place. It felt like drowning in stars. But within that pain—clarity. The sigils on his palm flared. And suddenly, something inside him shattered—then reformed.

His mana pool expanded like a bursting dam. Glowing runes spun around him.

[Spell Unlocked: Aqua Spiral Lance]

A focused spiral of high-pressure water, condensed into a lance of piercing force.

[Stage Ascended: Ripple Initiate – Tier 1]

Kaelen opened his eyes.

He didn't need to swim. The currents obeyed him.

🌊 Emergence

The surface broke with a roar as Kaelen burst from the sacred pool, levitating slightly on a rising column of spiraling water. Gasps erupted around the circle of elders. Mana steam hissed off his skin.

His eyes glowed deep ocean blue.

Yara stared, stunned. "You… you bonded with something."

Kaelen said nothing.

Because deep in his core, he still felt it—Abyssion's gaze. Watching. Waiting.

And whispering:

"The tide has chosen. But storms must still be earned."

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