Ghost of the Sea

Atlantis shimmered like a dream carved from crystal and sunlight.

Sprawling towers of aquamarine glass spiraled into the clouds, their tips catching the light of twin suns as they arced across the sky. Bridges of living coral pulsed with life beneath footfalls, and waterfalls of liquid light cascaded down cliffs carved by gods. Magic was not a force here; it was breath, blood, instinct. The city pulsed with it.

And in the heart of it, on the sacred training grounds of the Crystal Arena, Nyx Aridani danced with a blade in hand.

She moved like water and fire, alive and uncontrollable, her bare feet skipping across the white marble as the five elite members of the Atlantean Guard circled her with hesitation in their eyes. They were legends, all of them. Trained from childhood. But she was something else entirely.

With a smile tugging at her lips, she lunged.

Steel clashed in rhythm. One guard fell. Another was disarmed. A third dropped to a knee, gasping as Nyx’s blade hovered at his throat before she spun away, parrying another strike without looking. Every motion she made was effortless, a blend of elegance and ruthlessness that left even her opponents in awe.

“Damn it,” muttered General Kaelen from the sidelines, watching with arms crossed. “She’s toying with them again.”

“She’s learning,” said a deep voice beside him.

Valion Aridani, High Mage of Atlantis and Nyx’s father, stood with a scroll clutched in one hand, the other resting over his heart like something troubled it. His golden robes stirred in the wind, his eyes distant, watching his daughter with both pride and fear.

As the last guard yielded, the crowd that had gathered in the arena’s outer walls burst into applause.

“Show-off,” came a low voice behind her.

Nyx turned just as Caelum Drastos, her fiancé and the greatest swordsman of Atlantis, next to her, stepped into the ring, his blade gleaming with enchantments.

“You sure you want to do this again, Cael?” she teased, spinning her blade once before settling into a stance. “Third time this week.”

“Trying to reclaim my dignity,” he grinned, settling opposite her. “Or maybe I just like watching you win.”

They circled.

Their blades met like lightning cracking stone. Unlike the others, Caelum kept pace. Their fights had always been more than sparring, like lovers weaving their story with steel. He caught her cheek with the flat of his blade. She grazed his ribs in return. They grinned like children with bruised knees and hearts too full.

And then, she won.

With a swift feint and twist, Nyx disarmed him, sending his blade clattering to the marble. Caelum stared at the point of her weapon at his throat, then laughed and dropped to his knees dramatically.

“All hail the goddess of blades,” he called.

Nyx laughed, breathless, cheeks flushed with victory. She turned to the applauding crowd, and saw her father step forward, face pale, the scroll in his trembling hands.

The cheering faded.

“I did not want to believe it,” Valion said, his voice echoing across the arena, “but the signs are clear. The Elders have sent a prophecy, carved into the bones of the Deep Leviathan.”

He held the scroll aloft. Runes shimmered with a golden, ghostly fire.

“The sea is coming for us,” he said. “Atlantis will fall.”

Gasps rippled through the gathering. Caelum stood slowly, brows furrowed.

Nyx’s stomach dropped.

“The Prophecy speaks of betrayal in the current, of a tear in the weave of magic. It warns of the wrath of the deep, of time devouring us for what we have done.” Valion’s eyes, normally full of warmth, now brimmed with unshed tears. “We have defied the natural order for too long.”

And then the ground shook.

The sound was slow at first. A rumble. Then a roar. Marble cracked beneath their feet. Screams erupted from the city as towers began to sway. The sky darkened with unnatural clouds that spun in reverse.

“No,” Nyx whispered.

The waters rose.

Walls of black ocean thundered toward the city’s golden barrier, waves taller than mountains. Magic flared across the sky, defensive runes, shields, breaking one after the other like paper before flame.

Valion turned to her.

“Nyx,” he said. “You were always meant for more than this city.”

“Father…”

“There is no time. I cannot save them. I can only save you.”

“No! We can fight! Caelum and I…”

“Even the best blades cannot cut the tide,” Valion whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. “I have never locked your power all these years to protect you. But now you must survive. You must remember who you are… even when you forget.”

Magic swelled around them. A sphere of light. And suddenly, she could no longer use her magic.

“I love you, daughter of Atlantis.”

“Please…”

Caelum grabbed her hand, trying to step into the circle, but Valion shoved him back with a wave of magic.

“I’ll find you again!” Caelum shouted. “I swear it!”

Valion closed his eyes. The spell surged.

The last thing Nyx saw was the city collapsing, towers crumbling, water swallowing screams, her people dying, and her father’s tear-streaked face as he burned away the last of his magic.

Then, there was nothing.

She awoke on a nameless shore, the taste of salt on her lips and the weight of a sword in her hand.

And Atlantis was no more.