The forest held its breath.
Rahab loomed before them, rising from the river like a nightmare summoned from the ocean floor.
Her scales shimmered with an unnatural sheen, her aura churning the water into ripples of dread. The mist thickened around her massive form, curling like fingers. Her voice did not echo—it resonated through the bones of the trees and the boys' chests.
"The Tideborn... belongs to me."
Zaire's breath hitched. His pulse raced. A pit opened in his stomach.
He took a shaky step back, words tumbling from his lips.
"I... I don't know what she means. I'm not—"
SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH...
The mist around them thickened—but not from Rahab this time.
This wasn't cold. It was warm. Steady. Thick with tension, but absent of malice. It rolled in from the forest like a tide returning home—calm, but purposeful.
Ozais blinked and reached out instinctively as the air grew dense with moisture. He felt it—not a crush, but a pull, like gravity shifting around their father's presence.
Then... a figure stepped through the trees.
Tall. Weathered. Calm.
Steam rose from the ground at his feet. His eyes cut through the fog like twin rivers beneath thunderclouds. Each breath he took seemed to pull the mist tighter around him.
"That's far enough, Rahab."
Zaire's breath caught.
"...Father?"
Oz stood at the river's edge, arms relaxed, yet unmoving—like a stone that knew the tide would break upon it. His coat shifted in the pressure, water curling upward around his boots. It wasn't summoned. It answered him.
Rahab turned, slowly, with the heavy grace of something far older than she looked.
"You again," her voice pulsed from the water. "You still guard the current that is not yours to protect."
"The Deep doesn't own my son," Oz replied, voice steady. "And you will not take him."
With a single motion, he raised his hand—and water formed from the very air.
Droplets spun from the vapor, twisting into a blade of clear force. It hovered briefly, then unraveled into sharp-edged ribbons that orbited him like sentient streamers.
CRACKKKK—BOOM!
Lightning burst overhead as Rahab screamed. Her body expanded with water, her tail coiling around the riverbank. Fins extended from her back like jagged wings, casting monstrous shadows through the fog.
Ozais stepped back, shielding Zaire.
"Father, we can help—"
"No," Oz said sharply. "Take your brother and go."
"But—"
"I said go!"
Rahab lunged.
Oz moved.
His hand sliced sideways through the air. Vapor ignited into pressure. A barrier of steam exploded outward, catching Rahab mid-lunge and forcing her back.
Oz spun, dragging water from the mist itself and launching it like a whip. It crashed into her side, dragging half the river with it.
Rahab roared—fury and memory mixing in her cry. She slammed her claws into the earth, sending a shockwave toward the boys.
Oz stomped his foot.
"Mistveil: Veil of the Lost."
The entire battlefield vanished beneath a wave of swirling fog, thicker than smoke. The temperature dropped instantly, moisture clinging to skin like sweat.
Then came silence. Not the absence of sound—but the suppression of it. Even Rahab's pulse grew muffled.
Ozais gasped. "I... I can't see!"
"Follow the roots," Oz's voice echoed through the fog. "They'll carry you home."
The ground beneath them shifted slightly. Tree roots damp with Flow moved beneath their feet like a current, forming a path.
Zaire felt his hand pulled forward. Ozais gripped him tighter.
"Come on. We have to go. Now."
Later – The Return
By the time they stumbled out of the woods, the first light of dawn was bleeding across the sky. Mist clung to their clothes. Their feet were soaked. Their eyes stung.
Uriyah was waiting on the porch, clutching a blanket to her chest.
"You're— you're alive!"
Esther appeared behind her, sprinting toward them. She embraced Zaire first, then Ozais, almost falling over in the process.
Then she pushed them back.
"Where were you?! What were you thinking?! Do you know what could've happened to you?!"
Zaire opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat.
Behind them, the mist rolled in once more.
Oz stepped through it like the spirit of the river itself. Bruised. Bleeding at the brow. But alive.
Uriyah covered her mouth. Esther took a step forward, paused, then turned toward the house.
Oz said nothing.
He simply nodded to the door.
"Inside. All of you."
The Lecture
They gathered near the hearth. The fire crackled low, as if listening.
Zaire sat on the floor, curled inward. Ozais stood near the door, arms crossed, eyes locked on his father. Uriyah huddled beside Esther on the bench.
Oz stood before them, his eyes heavy with something deeper than fatigue.
"Flow is not a weapon."
His voice was low. Measured. Like water wearing down stone.
"It is not a gift to be flaunted. Not for pride. And not for violence. Flow is spirit. Flow is a connection. And God did not place it in us so that we might destroy each other."
Ozais scoffed. "So what, we just do nothing? Let beasts like Rahab roam free? You talk about peace, but you've seen what this world really is."
"You're right," Oz said, not blinking. "I have."
Zaire looked up, voice soft. "Father... why did Rahab call me Tideborn?"
Oz's face grew still.
"To answer that... I have to start from the beginning. Before Flow had names. Before the Council took control."
The Origin of Flow
"Long ago, Flow was unspoken. It wasn't studied or divided. It moved through people like breath. Some danced with it. Others sang to it. Flow listened—and in return, it revealed."
Then came the Council.
They named Flow. They divided it. They regulated what could be taught—and what must be silenced.
Flow Types:
HydroFlow: Water manipulation in all states, from mist to current to storm
Echo Flow: Resonant energy. Can replay memory, amplify sound, or disturb emotions
NecroFlow : Ties to ancestry, loss, and legacy. Users can summon the presence of those who came before
Agrokinesis Flow: The rhythm of life and decay. Growth. Healing. Ruin.
Light Flow: Illumination of truth. Light Flow can reveal what's hidden, blind with brilliance, or purify corrupted Flow
"But above all of them... was one. Before Flow had types, there was a user who danced with the tide."
The TideBorn
"They didn't just control water. They communed with it. The rivers spoke to them. The ocean listened. They could feel the emotions in storms. They could sense pain through rain. And in return, the water revealed what no one else could see."
"This user became known as the TideBorn."
Zaire stared, barely breathing.
"It's said that the TideBorn could soothe unstable Flow in others—calming violent surges without force. They could awaken power in those who had gone numb. They could see visions through water—echoes of the past, glimpses of the future. Sometimes even truths that a person was hiding from themselves."
"To the Council, they were a wonder. Until they became a threat."
Ozais narrowed his eyes.
"But that just sounds like... an enhanced HydroFlow. What makes it so special?"
Oz faced him directly.
"Because they didn't command water. It trusted them. That's the difference."
Ozais didn't speak again.
Zaire hesitated, then said quietly:
"But… my Flow didn't surge from me. It came through me. Like the water had been waiting. Like it wasn't mine… but it knew me."
Oz approached and knelt beside him.
"Because your Flow—like Ozais's—has undergone something rare. A mutation."
"Flow is more than ability. It's a reflection of emotion. Spirit. Purpose. When someone experiences intense inner change—grief, love, fear, a vow—Flow doesn't always stay the same. It can evolve. It can take new shape."
He turned to Ozais.
"Your Flow mutated when you chose to stand between your brother and death. That moment reshaped your entire resonance. It combined water and power, defense and rage. That's why yours carries electricity now."
Ozais's jaw tightened. But he said nothing.
Oz looked back to Zaire.
"And yours, Zaire... it didn't become wild. It became attuned. It listens because you feel deeply. Your emotions are unfiltered. That is something the Council would have called unstable. But it's not instability—it's alignment."
Zaire's eyes watered. "So… am I like the TideBorn?"
Oz lowered his voice.
"I don't know. But Rahab recognized something in you. And that means your Flow is no longer something we can explain... or hide."
Uriyah whispered, "Is mutation dangerous?"
Oz stood.
"To the Council… yes. Because it cannot be measured. It cannot be filed in their books or licensed for their soldiers."
"But it's not dangerous. Not if we choose to understand it. And control it ourselves."
Esther stepped forward.
"You think they'll come."
Oz nodded.
"Not yet. But they will. And when they do… we won't be able to run again."
The fire flickered. The mist outside faded. But a storm stirred in the distance—both in the sky, and in their hearts.
© 2025 TideBorn Studios. All rights reserved.
Flow of the Divine River™ is an original work by the author.
No part of this story may be reproduced, reposted, translated, or adapted without written permission.