I thought helping OK with his dancing dream was going to be my biggest challenge. But, no. My Mythigram DMs told a different story—half were supportive, the other half... well, let's just say trolls don't take days off.
With every new comment and message, it felt like my attempt to help him was only stirring up more trouble. I sighed, wondering if I'd made the right choice by getting involved. At this rate, I might end up needing a magical therapist.
Just as I was about to close the app, one message stood out—a DM from someone claiming to represent the Titan Royalty.
"Dear Mr. Carl, we are from the household of the Titan Royalty. It has come to our attention that Young Master Krakenthir (known to you as OK), son of the Titan Gods Oceanus and Ceto, has once again stirred up trouble in Mythica.
He was grounded for a year following an unfortunate incident on Mythica's Got Talent and placed under house arrest.
However, it appears he has managed to evade our security and escape surveillance.
Due to his age (14 years), Young Master Krakenthir is still under strict supervision and is forbidden from dancing publicly until he comes of age at 18.
Despite his size, he has effectively hidden himself from our searches. Our investigations have shown that he has been in frequent contact with you.
We kindly ask for your assistance in convincing Young Master to return home. Otherwise, his parents may be forced to send him to Hades Correctional Institution for further reflection."
When I read the message from the Titans' Royalty, I had to blink a few times just to make sure I hadn't been hallucinating.
Krakenthir? A runaway titan royalty? And he's only fourteen?
I pressed my forehead into my palm. I'd been trying to save my friend from exile, rallying fundraisers and dealing with trolls on Mythigram, only to learn that he's practically a prince.
And here I was thinking OK was some ancient, ageless Kraken who'd been around longer than my hometown.
This revelation brought an uncomfortable chill. If he'd been grounded for breaking Mythica's Got Talent, and his parents were ready to send him to 'Hades Correctional Institution', this was worse than I thought.
I immediately shot him a call.
"Carl! You wouldn't believe it—I just pulled off a sick move underwater—" he started, his voice buoyant as ever.
I cut him off. "OK, why didn't you tell me you're a teenager? And that you're royal blood?!"
There was a pause. "Oh, I thought you knew."
"You thought I knew?" I repeated, incredulity seeping into every syllable. "Also, you ran away from home! You never thought to mention that?"
"Oh. That." He sighed. "My parents don't get it. They grounded me and banned me from dancing after that incident on Mythica's Got Talent. But I love dancing, Carl. So yeah, I… might've sort of run away."
I groaned, pacing in my tiny office. "OK, your parents are threatening to send you to some correctional institute.. something called Hades? And they asked me to convince you to come back!"
Silence.
Then I heard him gulp. "They—they can't. Carl, you have to help me. You know what that place is like? It's where dreams go to die. No dancing, no music, no fun… it's worse than a lifetime of boredom! It's hell!" (I'm not surprised if it's really hell, the name itself speaks volume.)
The desperation in his voice gnawed at me. But at the same time, he'd caused a tsunami—and got me tangled in royal family drama in the process. I let out a long, tired breath, feeling the weight of my conflicting thoughts.
"OK, you're a kid," I said, trying to sound reasonable. "A big, enormous, tsunami-causing kid, but still—a kid. And your parents just want you to wait until you're older."
"Carl, no," he pleaded, voice smaller than I'd ever heard it. "If they drag me back, that's it. My dream of becoming a professional dancer… gone."
Hearing that broke something in me. I knew how much he loved dancing, how his eyes (well, eye… he's got the one, after all) lit up every time he talked about it. I could see his gigantic form twisting and turning underwater, an unexpected grace in every move, his joy as large as he was.
"Alright," I muttered, pacing again, "let me think. If you want to keep this dream, then you're going to need to cooperate with your parents somehow."
An idea was forming, piecing itself together in my mind as I talked. "Listen, if you go back home and promise to finish your grounded period, I can try to work out a plan to get you back on the dance scene without them breathing down your neck."
A skeptical silence hung on the line. "You're just saying this to get me to go home, aren't you?"
I held back a laugh. "No, I'm serious. From one adult to another," I teased. "While you're under house arrest, I'll work on improving your reputation. And if we can figure out a temporary resizing spell, you'll be able to dance right at home and post videos without risking Mythica's coastlines during your reflection period."
There was a pause, then he asked, voice thick with emotion, "You'd really do that? For me?"
"Yeah, OK. I've got your back. But I'll need you to help talk to your parents. Let them know that Carl from MECCP has a plan to smooth things over with the public. And we'll make an apology video while we're at it. How does that sound?"
This was either going to be the most brilliant plan I'd ever concocted—or my ticket to the Titan Royal Court.
The line went quiet, and I thought I'd lost him. Then he spoke again, softly.
"Alright." He sounded like he'd been backed into a corner but was still willing to make a run for it if he had to. "But only because I trust you, Carl. And only because I don't want to spend eternity in that Hades prison."