Theros stood at the helm of the enchanted vessel, his golden eyes fixed on the looming darkness of the Abyss. The oppressive waters pressed against the hull like a living thing, the faint glow of the ship's runes flickering as if even their light hesitated to shine in these depths.
The crew was silent, their earlier banter subdued as the weight of their mission settled over them. Theros's mind drifted, unbidden, to the memory of the council chamber—his father's command, Lysander's warnings. The chill of her words clung to him like the cold currents outside.
He shook his head, forcing the thought aside. "No use brooding," he muttered to himself.
Turning to his crew, Theros clapped his hands, the sound startling in the quiet. "All right, you lot. Let's talk strategy before we all get too comfortable with the idea of being fish food."
Merrik, leaning against a support beam, raised an eyebrow. "Strategy? From you boss? I thought we didn't do plans. This should be good."
Theros smirked, his usual bravado returning. "Laugh all you want, Merrik. But I'm the one keeping you alive down here."
"Debatable," Calista murmured, idly inspecting her claws.
"Funny you should say that" Theros shot back, leaning casually against the helm. "Because my plan involves all of you doing exactly what I say."
The crew exchanged glances, a mix of skepticism and reluctant amusement.
"Listen up," Theros said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "We don't know what's waiting for us out here. Could be nothing. Could be something worse than sea serpents and siren queens combined."
"That's comforting," Eryk muttered, earning a chuckle from Nysa.
Theros ignored him, his golden gaze sweeping over the group. "The Shadowborne are sneaky bastards. They won't come at us head-on. They'll test us, try to worm their way into our heads. So, rule number one: stay sharp. If you see anything—anything at all—you tell me. Got it?"
The crew nodded, the levity fading from their expressions.
"Rule number two," Theros continued, his voice firm. "Stick together. No wandering off, no playing hero. We're a team, and we're stronger that way."
Durak grunted in agreement, hefting his axe. "Best not to face the unknown alone."
"Exactly," Theros said, his grin returning. "And rule number three…" He paused, letting the silence stretch before leaning forward conspiratorially. "Don't touch anything that looks cursed, glows ominously, or whispers sweet nothings in your ear. That's how you end up possessed, and I've got enough problems without having to deal with one of you going rogue."
Calista snorted, but the tension in the room lightened slightly.
Merrik crossed his arms, his cobalt scales catching the faint light. "So what's the actual plan? Besides not dying horribly?"
Theros straightened, his grin fading. "We scout. Quietly. If we find signs of the Shadowborne, we report back. No heroics, no unnecessary risks." He hesitated, then added, "But if they come for us, we fight. Hard."
The crew nodded again, their trust in their leader clear despite the lingering unease.
Vaelora, standing near the rear of the room, spoke up for the first time. "And if they try to corrupt us? What then?"
Theros's gaze met hers, and for a moment, his usual bravado was replaced by something deeper, older. "We don't let them." His voice was quiet but unyielding. "No matter what. We remember who we are and what we're fighting for."
The room fell silent again, the weight of his words settling over them.
After a moment, Eryk broke the tension with a wry grin. "Well, if nothing else, at least we've got a plan. Or something that vaguely resembles one."
Theros laughed, the sound loud and boisterous in the confined space. "That's the spirit! Now let's get back to work. The Abyss isn't going to scout itself."
As the crew dispersed to their stations, Theros lingered at the helm, staring out into the dark. His grin faltered, the mask slipping as his thoughts turned inward.
The memory of the council chamber returned, unbidden. Lysander's voice echoed in his mind, her warning chilling him more than he cared to admit. Their power lies not in brute strength, but in corruption… They twist minds and souls, making enemies of those closest to you.
He clenched his fists, golden flames flickering faintly around them. Whatever awaited them in the Abyss, he would face it. He was a prince of the dragon kingdom, and he would not falter.
But as the darkness pressed closer, an unease settled over him—a quiet whisper at the back of his mind, too faint to discern but impossible to ignore.
Theros shook his head, forcing the thought aside. There would be time for doubt later. For now, he had a crew to protect and a mission to complete.
"Let's see what nightmares are made of," he muttered, his voice barely audible above the hum of the vessel's wards.