The Tidecaller Clan's training grounds stretched along the shoreline, waves lapping against the rocks in perfect rhythm. The sky burned with the hues of an encroaching sunset, casting the sea in molten gold.
Sonia Tidecaller, just 15 years old, stood motionless, her bare feet sinking into the wet sand. The salty breeze teased strands of sapphire-blue hair from her braid, brushing them against her flushed cheeks.
Her hands raised slowly, fingers flexing with purpose. Water rose from the waves at her command, spiraling into a sphere that glistened with refracted light.
She took a measured step forward, her movements graceful yet deliberate. The water elongated, forming a spear that hovered, suspended in the air.
With a sharp thrust, she sent it flying. The spear struck a jagged boulder, shattering it into a cascade of shards. Yet her expression remained cold, unsatisfied.
"Good," Alina's calm voice broke the silence as she approached, her steps barely disturbing the sand. "But not flawless."
Sonia exhaled through her nose, her hands falling to her sides. "It's not good enough," she muttered, her voice taut with frustration.
"You're being too harsh on yourself," Alina replied, crossing her arms. "Even the tide needs time to shape the rocks."
Sonia turned away, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Time doesn't matter," she said sharply. "They didn't give him time, did they? They broke him."
The elder's face softened, but her words were measured. "And yet, Kaleb endured. If you truly believe he's lost, then you've already failed him."
Sonia flinched, her throat tightening. Memories of Kaleb flashed in her mind—his determination, his stubborn defiance even in the face of defeat.
"He carried the weight of everyone's expectations," Sonia said quietly, her voice wavering. "And I stood there… useless."
Alina stepped closer, her presence steadying. "You've never been useless, child. If you care for him, then honor him. Strengthen yourself for what lies ahead."
Sonia's jaw tightened, but she nodded, her fists trembling at her sides. With a flick of her hand, she called the water again, pulling it into a spiraling vortex around her.
Each movement of her body was sharp, precise, the water shifting with her as though alive. Her strikes sent powerful bursts of water crashing into the rocks, each impact shaking the ground beneath her feet.
Her mind drifted, unbidden, to moments she'd shared with Kaleb.
—She was ten, and Kaleb was eight, the first time she saw him train by the Bjorn Clan's waterfalls. His movements had been wild and unpolished, but his focus had been unyielding.
"Why are you so serious all the time?" she had teased, sitting on a nearby rock. "You're like a storm cloud ready to burst."
Kaleb had paused, turning to her with that familiar crooked grin. "Because if I don't take it seriously, who will?"
Later, when she twisted her ankle during a sparring match, Kaleb had carried her back to the Tidecaller grounds, his determination outweighing her protests. "You don't quit," he'd said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Not when someone's watching."
—The memory burned in her chest, pushing her strikes faster and harder. Her water whip cracked through the air, splitting a rock clean in half.
"You're relentless," Alina said, her voice carrying a note of pride. "But don't forget to breathe."
Sonia lowered her arms, panting heavily. "Breathing won't bring him back."
"No," Alina agreed. "But it will keep you alive long enough to find him."
Sonia wiped her brow, her piercing eyes scanning the horizon as if willing Kaleb to appear. "Wherever he is, I'll find him," she vowed. "Even if I have to tear through every clan in this realm."
Alina didn't respond, but her silence spoke volumes. Sonia's passion burned brighter than the setting sun, but it was a fire that could consume her if left unchecked.
—The Tidecaller Clan's great hall was alive with tension, the murmurs of gathered elders filling the space. The golden light of spirit lanterns flickered over weathered faces, their expressions grave.
Sonia entered, her presence commanding instant silence. Her hair clung to her shoulders, still damp from training, but she carried herself with unwavering confidence.
Elder Lirian stepped forward, his voice cautious. "Sonia, we've received a proposal from the Draymar Clan."
Sonia's eyes narrowed. "What sort of proposal?"
"A union," Lirian replied, his tone diplomatic. "A marriage to strengthen ties between our clans."
Sonia's expression didn't falter, but a chill spread through her chest. "You mean a deal," she said flatly. "A trade of people for alliances."
Lirian sighed, his gaze steady. "The Draymars are powerful. This union would secure our future."
Alina interjected, her voice sharp. "Sonia's path is hers to decide. You'd be wise to remember that."
Sonia glanced at Alina, grateful for the elder's unwavering support. She turned back to Lirian, her tone firm. "I won't be sold off for politics. My place is in the fight, not someone's debt."
The room fell silent, the weight of her words palpable. Lirian nodded, though his face betrayed his unease. "Your resolve is clear, but the Draymars won't take rejection lightly."
"Let them come," Sonia said, her voice cold as steel. "If they had anything to do with Kaleb's fall, they'll wish they hadn't."
The tension in the hall thickened, but Sonia stood tall. She left without another word, her footsteps echoing against the stone.
—Outside, the shoreline was quiet, the waves lapping gently at her feet. Sonia knelt by the water, her hand trailing through its cool surface.
She closed her eyes, letting the sound of the tide calm her racing thoughts. "Kaleb," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Where are you?"
The water seemed to respond, rising slightly to meet her hand. A tear slipped down her cheek, falling into the waves below.
Sonia straightened, her resolve hardening. If Kaleb was alive, she would find him. And if he wasn't… she would make his enemies pay.
The tide surged suddenly, crashing against the rocks as though echoing her determination. Sonia turned her gaze to the horizon, the fire in her chest burning brighter than ever.
The storm was coming, and she would be its harbinger.