To Fly the Soaring Tides

Destria did not think a child's grudge was that terrible a price to pay for upholding her agreement with the High Arbiter. Not that she was a member of the Third Order, but she was a spirit of her word, escaped prey notwithstanding.

The more she thought about it, though, she did not want this young undine hybrid creature to dislike her. And as she glowered with tears in her eyes, that was very much the impression Destria got.

Well, I did come here to help, after all. This could be a good opportunity to learn more about Cira as well. I have been wondering what type of people she associates with.

"Very well. I will gladly help you." As Destria spoke, Lazulei's face brightened for a brief moment, "But! I do not know where your mother's friends are." She turned to face Zuzarel, and the girl followed her gaze with hopeful eyes, "The one who perished… she was your main body, was she not?"

"Yes… that's right." The undine showed an emotion not oft seen in spirits—sadness. Noticing that, Lazulei's expression turned dismal.

"Wait, Zuzu…" She spoke with a tremble, "What happened to Aunty Undy?"

"Lazulei, dear… I'm sorry." A heartbreaking gasp escaped the girl. "It appears that… Undina has returned to the sea."

The girl's face twisted in despair and her pale golden light flickered over the dead man's bloodied face, "Y-you're lying! I know you are!"

While Zuzarel returned the pained expression and tried to comfort her with a hand on the shoulder, Destria's expression was something closer to pity. She held her tongue.

As Lazulei hopelessly held onto the man's fragile soul, the wind picked up, whistling all around them. They could see the shuffling sands caught in the air. Stained dark as night, it rose in large swaths that still caught the sun with a silver luster. Destria grew concerned when the sands all blew in the same direction, gathering in an amorphous cloud before them, but the others didn't seem to notice until it blocked the sun.

As they gazed up in sudden fear, laughter echoed through the sky, "Do you think I would die so easily?"

Lazulei looked up with stars shining through her teary eyes. Staring back at her was none other than the deceased Goddess of the Raging Seas. Rather than the purest water, her form was made up of sands like grains of charcoal. Now she stood much lower to the ground as well, roughly human-sized.

"You're still here!" A broad smile grew on her face before shooting a glare to the other one, "I just knew Zuzu was lying."

"Color me surprised." Destria shrugged and their eyes met.

"Oh well if it isn't a great ancestor of mine," Undina offered a sarcastic bow, "What an honor it was for you to watch me die. I certainly did not want any help."

With a sudden gasp, Lazulei's glare turned to Destria, "Why didn't you help her? I don't like you anymore."

Ancient and formless, Destria felt a strange pain in her chest, "I… did not expect her to fail. The curse that woman wielded was very strange."

Undina looked at her, then back at the girl, "Don't be upset at her, dear. I was just being bitter. Nobody could have expected today's outcome."

"Speaking of which…" Destria started, "It appears you were kept alive by an entirely different curse. I presume that to be Cira's?"

The two undines from Acher looked at each other while Lazulei's ears perked up. Undina looked into her distant ancestor's eyes as if to gauge her intentions, but she had to give her the benefit of the doubt at this point.

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The dark sands shifted and Undina reached into her chest, withdrawing a saffron bubble just larger than her palm containing deep gray smoke, "She was attempting to steal it. Surely with the intention of adding it to her collection of stolen power."

"I recall seeing a great deal of these…" Destria peered into the curse as if trying to unravel its nature.

"I absorbed most of them, and the witch's curse dispersed afterward for each instance. It did not appear she made off with any, but I suspect some may have fallen beyond the shore."

"That may become problematic. Do you know which law it represents? Or its effects?"

"Last I heard, not even she knows exactly. But, aside from all this," Undina gestured broadly to display her body of dark sand, "I can only tell you what I've seen—"

"Hey!" Lazulei yelled, still cradling the dead man, "Am I the only one who cares if he lives or dies?"

Destria took the opportunity while the other two were stunned, "Actually, he's already—"

"O-of course we care!" Undina shouted, placing herself in front of Destria, "Let's focus on that now, okay girls?"

"Right!" Zuzarel clenched her fists in support.

"Okay, but… who can heal this person?" Destria was still skeptical, "His wounds are… serious to say the least."

"It's fine. I know just the person to ask." She turned to face the horizon and storm below, "We need to take this man to Paradise."

"Are you sure that's a good idea…?" Zuzarel had her doubts, "This man works for the Gandeux, and he's probably pretty high ranking. Elysia is basically Cira's capital."

Lazulei started to pout behind them as the conversation took a turn, but Undina did not seem bothered.

"I agree, those would ordinarily be serious concerns," She turned a smirk to the young undine, "But do you think anyone there will tell Cira's daughter no?"

"Then it's agreed." Destria spoke as her human form burst, flowing up to the sky, "Let us make haste to this Paradise you speak of."

"Lazulei dear," Undina said, "We are going to need you to accompany us to keep that man stable. Are you sure you are willing to depart the island?"

"It's different this time. I have to!" The resolve in her eyes reminded Undina of her mother, "And I can come back whenever I want. Let's go!"

Undina nodded back at her, "Zuzarel, you must carry her. I am weakened and won't be able to recover any strength until we reach Paradise."

___

Shit. I'm going to kill that undine one day. All of them!

Nimara fell on the ground as she appeared and coughed a mouthful of blood onto the silver. She pounded a fist into the hard metal. With no mana protecting her body, she heard a crack in her fist.

"Dammit! How could I be reduced to this state? There should be nothing in these skies that can rival me. Just where did that spirit come from?!"

The Hidden Witch… She brought it here didn't she?

Nimara gazed up at the blazing silver well and froze. Lying all around her were hundreds of bodies—all her witches. Splayed out on the ground like a sea of corpses.

"Impossible. She… killed them all?" A few handfuls was expected, but this was a massacre. Joy started to build in her chest at how easy it would be to point the Gandeux at her now, but this was seriously cutting into her personnel. Anger began to surface and she stood up, clenching her fists.

Just then, a strange noise pulled her attention. A witch at her feet started snoring. Now that she looked further, all of their chests heaved up and down.

Don't tell me… she simply put them all to sleep? Did not a single witch in my employ even so much as slow her down?

Nimara grew more infuriated by the minute that her daughter dragged that catastrophe in, but at this point she had greater concerns. The catastrophe herself.

Every aspect of that trap she left on Lazulei gave the impression that the Hidden Witch didn't want her dead. She figured the reason why had something to do with the witch's strange fixation on her daughter, but it begged the question of whether she could have killed Nimara if she wanted to.

Not only did she have an island-swallowing undine from ancient times at her beck and call, but she invaded Silverhold for the sole purpose of taunting Nimara. The gathering array was untouched, and hundreds of witches lay asleep.

Just who is she? She must have a name. I need to discover her origin and begin the hunt. That self-proclaimed witch must pay.

But first, she had to assess the damage. If she were to search for anyone awake, it would likely be the nail in the coffin to shatter her aura. Her witches weren't really important so long as they woke up eventually. Nimara needed to reach her tower and see if anything was out of place.

She let out an unabashed laugh, bathed in the unceasing silver radiance of the well, "And then I can begin my work."

Nimara reached into her sleeve and pulled out a brilliant saffron bubble in which a dreary smoke swirled.