Storm's Child

Intro They call me Daughter of the Tides, Keeper of the Currents. The sea is my origin. I guide its moods, soothe its rage, carry its depth. But for days now, I’ve felt something else beneath the waves. Something ancient. Stirring. “When the cursed blood of the Banished returns, the sea shall tremble— and with it, order shall die, and a new age begin.” A prophecy silenced by the elder gods—like the ones it speaks of. Fallen gods, exiled and forgotten. Their descendants, cursed to live as mortals, stripped of memory, cut off from divinity. I was drifting between mist and wave when I felt it. Not a storm. Not a creature. A soul. Alone. I surfaced—and saw him. A man. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Black hair clung to his face, half-submerged in the sea. I moved before thought could catch me. I reached for him, held him—and felt warmth beneath his skin that no mortal should bear. The sea calmed around us. I pulled him to shore. He did not wake. I brushed the wet strands from his forehead—and saw it: The scar across his right brow. Even unconscious, he drew the tide to him. And me. There was something in him… Ancient. Dangerous. Familiar. I left him there. But I did not forget. Soon after, the elder gods began to dream—of fire, of storms, of shadows. I knew what it meant. He was part of the prophecy. So I returned. In secret. Mortal-shaped. I crept aboard his ship in the dead of night, hidden from the eyes of his crew. I had to know if it was him. If he remembered. What still lived inside him. He doesn’t know who he is. A pirate, yes—but through his veins flows godly blood. A bloodline feared by all who dwell above and below. The curse lives on. And with it, the storm awakens. And perhaps I am the one who will set it free.