Silver Tide: Freedom or Ruin (Book 5)

 

CHAPTER 1

 

 

The Moonlight Wake sailed smoothly along, her Enchantments glowing softly in the morning light.

Fin stood at the helm, one hand on the wheel, the other shading his eyes as he looked toward the horizon.

The Sea was calm today—gentle swells, clear skies, a favorable wind filling the sails.

It felt like Hope.

Behind him, the Crew moved about the deck with easy familiarity.

Kenna and Garrett were checking the rigging, their banter carrying across the water.

Marcus sat near the bow, carving something from a piece of driftwood.

Davey was coiling rope with practiced efficiency, humming under his breath.

Lena emerged from below deck with a tray of bread and cheese, calling out that breakfast was ready.

And Charlotte—

Fin's gaze found her automatically, as it always did.

She stood near the starboard railing, her hair catching the sunlight, her face turned towards the Sea.

She looked peaceful. Strong. Beautiful.

His heart tightened with Love so fierce it almost hurt.

They'd been through so much. The curse. The Sea Witch. His crystallized heart.

But they'd survived.

And now, finally, they had a chance to end this.

To find the Diviner's Reliquary. To face Lamont one last time. To be Free.

---

"Captain!"

Fin turned to see Snive approaching, a rolled map in his hands.

"Morning, Snive," Fin said. "What've you got?"

Snive spread the map on the small table near the helm—Corwin's map, marked with faded ink and cryptic notes.

"The Shattered Isles," Snive said, tapping a cluster of Islands in the eastern Sea. "According to Corwin, the Sanctum of Echoes is somewhere in here."

Fin studied the map. The Islands were drawn in jagged lines, surrounded by warnings in Corwin's careful script: Treacherous waters. Ancient magic. Proceed with caution.

"How long to get there?" Fin asked.

"A week, maybe less if the wind holds," Snive said. "But once we're there, finding the Sanctum won't be easy. These Islands are a maze."

Fin nodded slowly. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

Snive's expression softened. "You seem... lighter. Since the curse broke."

Fin glanced at Charlotte again, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I am. For the first time in a long time, I feel like we might actually win this."

"We will," Snive said firmly. "And when we do, you and Charlotte can finally have the Life you deserve."

Fin's smile widened. "That's the plan."

Snive clapped him on the shoulder and walked away, leaving Fin alone with his thoughts.

---

Charlotte felt Fin's gaze on her before she turned.

She smiled, crossing the deck to join him at the helm.

"You're staring again," she said, her tone teasing.

"Can you blame me?" Fin replied, his eyes warm.

Charlotte laughed softly, leaning against the railing beside him. "What were you and Snive talking about?"

"The Journey," Fin said. "We're about a week out from the Shattered Isles."

Charlotte nodded, her expression growing serious. "And then we find the Reliquary."

"And then we end this," Fin said quietly.

Charlotte took his hand, threading her fingers through his. "Together."

"Together," Fin agreed.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the ship rocking gently beneath them, the crew's voices a comforting backdrop.

"I'm ready," She said, "For all of it. Whatever comes next."

"Me too," Fin said, pulling her closer. "No more running. No more fear. Just us, and the Life we're going to build."

Charlotte smiled up at him. "That sounds perfect."

Fin pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. "It will be. I promise."

Charlotte leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder.

And for a moment, everything felt right.

---

Below deck, Swing was rummaging through a crate of supplies, muttering to himself.

"Where is it... I know I put it here... Ah!"

He pulled out a small cloth pouch and opened it carefully, revealing a collection of shiny objects—polished stones, bits of sea glass, a tarnished coin.

His treasures.

He added the opalescent stone he'd bought in the village, arranging it carefully among the others.

"Perfect," he said, grinning.

"Swing!"

He jumped, nearly dropping the pouch.

Kenna stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. "What are you doing down here? Breakfast is ready."

"Coming!" Swing said, tucking the pouch back into the crate.

He scrambled up the ladder, and Kenna shook her head, smiling despite herself.

---

The crew gathered on deck for breakfast, passing around bread, cheese, and dried fruit.

The mood was light, hopeful—something that had been missing for too long.

"So," Garrett said, leaning back against the mast. "The Shattered Isles. Anyone know what we're walking into?"

"Ruins," Emerson said, his voice quiet but confident. "Ancient temples. Corwin's notes mention a place called the Sanctum of Echoes."

"Sounds ominous," Marcus said.

"It probably is," Snive said. "But we've faced worse."

"The Sea Witch did literally steal Fin's heart," Kenna pointed out.

"And we got it back," Garrett said. "So whatever's waiting in those ruins, we can handle it."

"That's the spirit," Snive said, grinning.

Laughter rippled through the group.

Fin watched them, his chest warm with affection.

This was his Family.

And he would do whatever it took to keep them safe.

Charlotte caught his eye and smiled, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

He smiled back.

---

Far away, in the dark depths of the Sea, two figures watched.

The Sea Witch stood in her domain, her form shifting like smoke and shadow, her eyes glowing with cold light.

Beside her, Lamont stood rigid, his face expressionless, his hands clenched at his sides.

In the water before them, an image shimmered—the Moonlight Wake, sailing east, its Crew laughing and talking on the deck.

Fin and Charlotte stood together at the helm, their hands intertwined.

Lamont's jaw tightened.

"They look happy," the Sea Witch observed, her tone mocking.

"They won't be for long," Lamont said flatly.

The Sea Witch's eyes gleamed. "Patience, Captain Quincy. Let them lead us to the Reliquary. Let them do the work."

"And then?" Lamont asked.

"Then we take what's ours," the Sea Witch said. "But not yet. Watch. Wait. Follow."

Lamont's gaze never left Fin's image. "I can wait."

But his hands clenched tighter, his knuckles white.

The Sea Witch noticed, her smile widening. "Can you?"

Lamont didn't answer.

The Sea Witch waved her hand, and the image vanished.

"Go," she said. "And remember—do not act until I give the word."

Lamont turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the darkness.

The Sea Witch watched him go, amused.

He wouldn't last. She knew it.

And when he broke, it would be all the more entertaining.

 

CHAPTER 2

 

The next morning dawned clear and bright, the Sea calm as glass.

Fin woke early, as he always did, and made his way up to the deck.

The Ship was quiet—most of the Crew still asleep below.

He stood at the bow, watching the sunrise.

It was beautiful.

Peaceful.

The curse was broken. His heart was whole. Charlotte was safe.

They had a future now.

A real future.

And Fin knew exactly what he wanted that future to look like.

---

"You're up early."

Fin turned to see Snive approaching, two mugs of tea in his hands.

"Couldn't sleep," Fin said, accepting one of the mugs gratefully.

Snive leaned against the railing beside him, sipping his tea. "Something on your mind?"

Fin hesitated, then said, "Snive, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Fin took a breath. "How do you know when it's the right time?"

Snive raised an eyebrow. "The right time for what?"

Fin looked down at his tea, suddenly nervous. "To ask someone to marry you."

Snive went very still.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. "You're going to propose to Charlotte."

"I want to," Fin said. "I just... I don't know how. Or when. Or if it's too soon."

Snive set down his mug and turned to face Fin fully. "Fin. You and Charlotte have been through more in the past year than most couples face in a lifetime. You've fought curses, faced the Sea Witch, nearly died for each other. If that's not proof you're meant to be together, I don't know what is."

Fin's chest tightened. "So you think I should?"

"I think," Snive said gently, "that Charlotte would say yes in a heartbeat. And I think you already know that."

Fin smiled, relief flooding through him. "I do."

"So what's stopping you?"

"I don't have a ring," Fin admitted. "And I want to do this right. She deserves that."

Snive nodded thoughtfully. "We're stopping at a Port Town tomorrow for supplies. I'm sure we can find something there."

Fin's smile widened. "Thank you, Snive."

"Anytime, Captain," Snive said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now finish your tea. The Crew will be up soon, and you know how Em gets if breakfast is late."

Fin laughed, and together they watched the sun rise over the Sea.

---

By midday, the Moonlight Wake was approaching a small coastal town—a trading port nestled between rocky cliffs.

The Crew bustled about, preparing to dock.

"Alright," Snive called out. "We need supplies—food, water, rope. Kenna, you're in charge of provisions. Marcus, check the sails for any repairs we might need. Garrett, Davey, you're with me."

"What about me?" Swing asked eagerly.

Snive glanced at Fin, who nodded subtly.

"Swing," Fin said. "I need you to do something for me. Something important."

Swing's eyes lit up. "Really? What?"

Fin pulled him aside, lowering his voice. "I need you to find a ring. A nice one. For Charlotte."

Swing's jaw dropped. "You're going to ask her to marry you?!"

"Shh!" Fin hissed, glancing around. "Yes. But it's a secret. Can you keep a secret?"

Swing nodded vigorously. "Yes! Absolutely! I won't tell anyone!"

Fin handed him a small pouch of coins. "Get something she'll like. Nothing too flashy, just—"

"The shiniest one!" Swing said, grinning.

"Swing—"

"I know, I know," Swing said. "Something nice. I got it, Captain. You can count on me!"

Fin watched him scurry off toward the Town, already regretting this decision.

Snive appeared beside him, smirking. "You just sent Swing to buy an engagement ring."

"I know," Fin said, rubbing his face. "What was I thinking?"

"That you Trust him," Snive said. "And you do. He'll come through."

Fin sighed. "I hope you're right."

---

In Town, Swing darted from Shop to Shop, peering into windows and asking questions.

Finally, he found a small Jewelry Shop tucked between a Bakery and a Blacksmith.

Inside, an elderly woman sat behind the counter, polishing a silver bracelet.

"Hello, dear," she said kindly. "Can I help you?"

"I need a ring!" Swing said breathlessly. "For my Captain. He's going to propose to his Love and it has to be perfect!"

The woman's face softened. "How wonderful. Let me show you what I have."

She brought out a tray of rings—simple bands, ornate designs, rings with small stones.

Swing's eyes went wide.

"That one!" he said, pointing to a ring.

"Ah," the woman said, picking it up. "Good choice. It's simple, but elegant. And the stone is sea glass—polished by the ocean itself."

"It's perfect," Swing said, beaming. "She'll love it."

The woman wrapped it carefully and handed it to him. "Your Captain is Lucky to have a Friend like you."

Swing grinned. "He's the best Captain in the World."

He paid for the ring, tucked it safely into his pocket, and hurried back to the Ship.

---

When Swing returned, Fin was waiting near the gangplank.

"Well?" Fin asked nervously.

Swing pulled out the small wrapped package and handed it to Fin with a proud smile. "I got the perfect one."

Fin unwrapped it carefully, and his breath caught.

The ring was beautiful—simple, elegant, with a small stone that shimmered like the sea.

"Swing," Fin said quietly. "This is perfect. Thank you."

Swing beamed. "I knew you'd like it! When are you going to ask her?"

"I don't know yet," Fin admitted. "I want to find the right moment."

"Well, whenever it is, she's going to say yes," Swing said confidently. "Because she Loves you. Everyone can see it."

Fin smiled, tucking the ring safely into his pocket. "I hope you're right."

---

That evening, as the Crew gathered for dinner, Swing sat beside Kenna, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You okay?" Kenna asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep!" Swing said, a little too loudly. "Totally fine! Nothing exciting happening at all!"

Kenna narrowed her eyes. "Swing. What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Swing said. Then, unable to help himself, he leaned closer and whispered, "Fin's going to ask Charlotte to marry him!"

Kenna's eyes went wide. "What?!"

"Shh!" Swing hissed. "It's a secret! Don't tell anyone!"

Kenna stared at him. "Swing. You just told me."

"I know, but you can't tell anyone else!" Swing said. "Promise?"

Kenna sighed. "Fine. I promise."

But even as she said it, she glanced across the deck at Fin and Charlotte, who were sitting together near the helm, talking quietly.

A smile tugged at her lips.

This was going to be good.

 

CHAPTER 3

 

By the next morning, the entire Crew knew about the ring.

Swing had tried—he really had—to keep the secret.

But after telling Kenna, who told Marcus, who mentioned it to Garrett, who let it slip to Davey, who told Lena, who smiled knowingly at Emerson...

Well.

Everyone knew.

---

Fin stood at the helm, completely oblivious, checking their course on Corwin's map.

Behind him, the Crew was doing a terrible job of acting normal.

Kenna kept grinning at Charlotte whenever she walked past.

Marcus started humming a romantic ballad, then stopped abruptly when Fin glanced his way.

Swing couldn't stop staring at Fin's pocket where the ring was hidden.

And Snive—Snive just shook his head and tried not to laugh.

---

Charlotte noticed immediately that something was off.

She was sitting near the bow, mending a torn sail, when Kenna sat down beside her.

"Beautiful day," Kenna said, a little too cheerfully.

Charlotte looked at her. "It is."

"Perfect weather for... special occasions," Kenna added.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "What kind of special occasions?"

"Oh, you know," Kenna said, grinning. "Celebrations. Surprises. Life-changing moments."

Charlotte set down her needle. "Kenna. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Kenna said quickly. "Absolutely nothing! Why would anything be going on?"

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. "You're acting weird."

"I'm not acting weird," Kenna said. "You're acting weird."

"I'm literally just sitting here."

"Exactly! Suspiciously calm!"

Charlotte stared at her.

Kenna stood up quickly. "I have to go check the... rigging. Yes. The rigging needs checking."

She hurried away, leaving Charlotte thoroughly confused.

---

An hour later, Charlotte was helping Lena prepare lunch when Swing appeared in the galley doorway.

"Hi, Charlotte!" he said, far too loudly.

"Hi, Swing," Charlotte said, amused.

Swing hovered in the doorway, fidgeting. "So! Do you like... shiny things?"

Charlotte blinked. "What?"

"Shiny things!" Swing repeated. "Like... jewelry. Rings. That sort of thing."

Lena elbowed him sharply.

"Ow!" Swing yelped.

Charlotte looked between them. "Is everyone okay today? You're all acting strange."

"We're fine!" Lena said quickly. "Totally normal! Nothing unusual happening!"

"Right," Charlotte said slowly.

Swing opened his mouth to say something else, but Lena physically pushed him out of the galley.

Charlotte stood there, utterly baffled.

---

By afternoon, Charlotte had pieced it together.

She was standing at the starboard railing, watching the waves, when it clicked.

The Crew's weird behavior.

Swing's question about rings.

Kenna's comment about "life-changing moments."

The way Fin kept nervously touching his pocket.

Oh.

Charlotte's heart skipped.

He's going to propose.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying not to smile too widely.

Fin was going to ask her to marry him.

And the entire Crew knew.

Except Fin thought it was still a secret.

---

Charlotte found Kenna on deck a few minutes later.

"Kenna," she said quietly.

Kenna turned, looking guilty. "Yes?"

Charlotte crossed her arms. "Fin's going to propose, isn't he?"

Kenna's eyes went wide. "What? No! Why would you think that?"

Charlotte just looked at her.

Kenna deflated. "Swing told me."

"Of course he did," Charlotte said, but she was smiling.

"Are you mad?" Kenna asked nervously.

"No," Charlotte said. "But you all need to stop acting so weird or he's going to figure out that I know."

Kenna grinned. "So you're going to let him surprise you?"

"Of course," Charlotte said. "He's trying so hard. It's adorable."

Kenna laughed. "He really is."

Charlotte glanced across the deck to where Fin stood at the helm, talking with Snive.

Her heart swelled with love.

"I already know my answer," she said softly.

"What is it?" Kenna asked, though she already knew.

Charlotte smiled. "Yes."

---

That evening, Fin tried to find a moment alone with Charlotte.

He'd been carrying the ring for two days now, and every time he thought about proposing, something interrupted him.

A Crew Member needing help.

A sudden change in the wind.

Swing asking a loud question at exactly the wrong moment.

It was driving him crazy.

---

After dinner, Fin finally managed to catch Charlotte alone near the stern.

The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple.

It was perfect.

"Char," Fin said, his heart pounding.

She turned, smiling. "Yes?"

Fin opened his mouth—

"CAPTAIN!"

Fin closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.

Garrett appeared, looking apologetic. "Sorry to interrupt, but Emerson needs you to look at the map. He thinks he found a faster route."

Fin forced a smile. "I'll be right there."

Garrett nodded and left.

Charlotte touched Fin's arm gently. "Go. We have time."

Fin looked at her, his frustration melting away. "Later?"

"Later," Charlotte agreed, kissing his cheek.

Fin watched her walk away, his hand instinctively going to the ring in his pocket.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon.

---

Below deck, Swing was showing Marcus his collection of shiny things.

"And this one," Swing said, holding up a polished shell, "I found on the beach where we fought the Sea Witch's creatures."

"It's very shiny," Marcus said, amused.

"I know!" Swing said proudly. Then his expression turned wistful. "I hope Fin doesn't lose Charlotte's ring. It was the shiniest one in the shop."

Marcus laughed. "I'm sure he'll keep it safe."

"He better," Swing said seriously. "It's important."

"It is," Marcus agreed, ruffling Swing's hair. "And when he finally asks her, it's going to be perfect."

Swing grinned. "I can't wait!"

---

On the deck above, Snive stood at the helm, watching Fin pace nervously near the bow.

Kenna appeared beside him. "He's going to wear a hole in the deck."

"He's nervous," Snive said. "It's endearing."

"Does he know that we all know?" Kenna asked.

"Absolutely not," Snive said, smirking. "And let's keep it that way."

Kenna grinned. "Agreed."

They watched as Charlotte joined Fin at the bow, and the two of them stood together, talking quietly.

"They're good together," Kenna said softly.

"They are," Snive agreed. "And they deserve this happiness."

Kenna nodded. "They really do."

---

Far away, in the dark depths, Lamont watched the same scene through the Sea Witch's magic.

Fin and Charlotte, standing together at the bow of the Moonlight Wake.

Laughing. Smiling. In love.

Lamont's hands clenched into fists.

Their happiness was like a knife twisting in his chest.

A reminder of everything he'd never have.

Everything that had been taken from him.

'Patience,' the Sea Witch's voice echoed around him. 'Watch. Wait.'

But Lamont's jaw tightened, his rage simmering just beneath the surface.

How much longer could he wait?

How much longer could he watch them be happy while he suffered?

The answer, he was beginning to realize, was not much longer at all.

 

CHAPTER 4

 

The next day brought stronger winds and rougher Seas.

The Moonlight Wake cut through the waves with ease, her silver hull gleaming even under the overcast sky.

Char stood at the helm with Fin, helping him navigate while Emerson consulted the map below deck.

"Storm coming?" Char asked, eyeing the dark clouds on the horizon.

"Maybe," Fin said. "But we should be able to outrun it if we adjust our course."

Char nodded, her hand resting lightly on the wheel beside his.

They worked in comfortable silence, their movements synchronized after months of sailing together.

It was moments like this—quiet, simple, together—that Char treasured most.

---

"Captain!"

Swing appeared on deck, carrying a coil of rope that was almost as big as he was.

"Where do you want this?" he called.

"Starboard side," Fin said. "Near the—Swing, careful!"

Swing tripped over his own feet, stumbling forward.

He crashed directly into Fin, and they both went down in a tangle of limbs and rope.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Swing yelped, scrambling to get up.

As Fin pushed himself up, something small and shiny tumbled out of his pocket.

The ring.

It rolled across the deck, heading straight for the gap in the railing.

"No!" Fin lunged for it.

But Char was faster.

She dove, her hand closing around the ring just before it slipped through the gap and into the Sea.

For a moment, everyone froze.

Char sat on the deck, breathing hard, her fist closed around the ring.

Fin stared at her, his face pale.

Swing looked horrified. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," Fin said quickly, though his voice was shaky. "It's okay, Swing. No harm done."

Char slowly opened her hand, looking down at the ring.

It was beautiful—simple and elegant, with a small stone that caught the light like the sea itself.

"Oh."

Her breath caught.

She looked up at Fin, who was watching her with a mixture of panic and hope.

Their eyes met.

So this was the ring. The one Swing had been so excited about. The reason everyone had been acting strange.

It was perfect.

Char stood slowly, holding the ring carefully.

"Fin," she said softly.

"I—" Fin started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair. "That wasn't how I wanted you to find out."

Char smiled, her heart swelling. "Find out what?"

Fin took a breath, stepping closer. "That I've been carrying that around for three days, trying to find the perfect moment to ask you to marry me."

The Crew, who had been pretending not to listen, collectively held their breath.

Char looked down at the ring again, then back at Fin.

"You were going to propose," she said.

"I was," Fin admitted. "I am. I just... I wanted it to be special. Romantic. Perfect."

Char's smile widened. "And instead, Swing almost launched it into the Ocean."

"Pretty much," Fin said, laughing despite himself.

Char stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "Fin."

"Yeah?"

"I already know my answer," she said softly.

Fin's breath caught. "You do?"

"I've known for days," Char admitted. "You're terrible at keeping secrets. And Swing told Kenna, who told everyone, and you all kept acting so weird that I figured it out."

Fin stared at her. "You knew?"

"I knew," Char said, smiling. "But I didn't say anything because I wanted to let you surprise me."

Fin laughed, shaking his head. "I can't believe this."

"Believe it," Char said. She held out the ring. "So. Are you going to ask me? Or do I have to ask you?"

Fin took the ring from her hand, his expression turning serious.

He didn't kneel—they were on a Ship, after all, and the deck was still swaying—but he took her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

"Char," he said quietly. "I don't have a grand speech prepared. I don't have the perfect moment or the perfect words. But I know that I love you. I know that you're the reason I'm still standing. The reason I believe in hope and second chances and a future worth fighting for. And I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So... will you marry me?"

Char's eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling. "Yes."

Fin's face broke into a grin. "Yes?"

"Yes," Char repeated, laughing. "Of course, yes."

Fin slipped the ring onto her finger, and it fit perfectly.

For a moment, they just stood there, holding each other, and it felt like it was just the two of them. Each holding their World personified.

Then the Crew erupted into cheers.

Kenna was crying. Marcus was grinning. Garrett clapped Davey on the back. Lena wiped her eyes. Emerson smiled quietly.

And Swing—Swing was jumping up and down, shouting, "I HELPED! I PICKED THE RING!"

Snive stood near the helm, arms crossed, but his expression was soft.

"Congratulations, Captain," he said when Fin looked his way.

"Thanks, Snive," Fin said, his voice thick with emotion.

Char leaned into him, her head resting against his chest, and Fin wrapped his arms around her.

"We're getting married," she whispered.

"We are," Fin said, pressing a kiss to her hair.

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly right.

---

That evening, the Crew celebrated.

Lena made a special dinner, and someone—probably Marcus—broke out a bottle of rum they'd been saving.

They toasted to Fin and Char, to the Future, to Love and Hope and Second Chances.

Char sat beside Fin, her hand in his, the ring catching the firelight.

She couldn't stop smiling.

Neither could he.

"I can't believe you almost lost the ring," Char teased.

"I can't believe you knew the whole time," Fin shot back.

Char laughed. "You're not as sneaky as you think."

"Clearly," Fin said, grinning.

Across the fire, Swing was showing everyone his collection of shiny things again, explaining in great detail how he'd picked the perfect ring.

Kenna caught Char's eye and winked.

Char smiled back, her heart full.

This—this Crew, this Ship, this man beside her—was her Family.

And soon, Fin would be her husband.

She looked down at the ring on her finger, then at Fin.

"I love you," she said softly.

Fin turned to her, his expression tender. "I love you too."

They kissed, and the Crew cheered again, and the Moonlight Wake sailed on into the night.

---

Far away, Lamont watched through the Sea Witch's Magic.

He saw the proposal.

The ring.

The kiss.

The Joy.

His hands clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms.

They were getting married.

Building a Life Together.

A Future.

Everything he'd been denied.

"Enough," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

The Sea Witch's laughter echoed around him. 'Patience, Captain Quincy.'

"I've been patient," Lamont snarled. "I've watched. I've waited. And I'm done."

'You will wait until I say otherwise,' the Sea Witch said coldly.

But Lamont's rage was a living thing now, burning through him, consuming him.

He would wait.

For now.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

The celebration lasted well into the night.

By the time the Crew finally settled down to sleep, the moon was high and the Sea was calm.

Fin and Char stood together at the stern, away from the others, watching the Ship 's wake shimmer silver in the moonlight.

Char leaned against the railing, her hand in Fin's, the ring on her finger catching the light.

"I still can't believe it almost ended up at the bottom of the Ocean," she said, laughing softly.

"Neither can I," Fin admitted. "I would've dove in after it."

"I know you would have," Char said, squeezing his hand. "But I'm faster."

Fin grinned. "You are."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds the gentle creak of the Ship and the whisper of the waves.

"Are you happy?" Fin asked quietly.

Char turned to look at him, her expression soft. "Happier than I've ever been."

Fin pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. "Good. Because you deserve to be happy."

"So do you," Char said, resting her head against his chest.

Fin pressed a kiss to her hair, his heart full.

For the first time in years, he felt like the future wasn't something to fear.

It was something to look forward to.

Far below the surface, in the cold darkness of the deep, Lamont stood alone.

The Sea Witch had left him to his thoughts—or perhaps to his torment.

He stared into the black water, his reflection distorted and broken.

Above him, somewhere on the surface, the Moonlight Wake sailed on.

Fin and his crew. Laughing. Celebrating. Living.

Lamont's hands clenched into fists.

He'd been ordered to watch. To wait. To follow.

But watching was agony.

Every smile. Every touch. Every moment of Joy between Fin and that girl—it was like salt in a wound that would never heal.

They had everything.

And he had nothing.

'Patience,' the Sea Witch had said.

But Lamont's patience was wearing thin.

How much longer could he endure this?

How much longer before he broke?

The next morning, the crew woke to clear skies and a steady wind.

Emerson spread Corwin's map on the deck, pointing to their current position.

"We're making good time," he said. "If the weather holds, we should reach the outer edge of the Shattered Isles in three days."

"And then?" Garrett asked.

"Then we navigate carefully," Emerson said. "The islands are a maze. Corwin's notes mention hidden reefs, strong currents, and... other dangers."

"Other dangers?" Kenna repeated. "Care to elaborate?"

Emerson hesitated. "The notes are vague. But he mentions 'guardians' and 'trials.' Whatever that means."

"Sounds fun," Marcus said dryly.

"We've faced worse," Snive said, echoing his words from days before.

This time, no one argued.

Char found Fin at the helm later that morning, studying the map.

"Thinking about the Sanctum?" she asked.

"Always," Fin said. "Corwin's notes are helpful, but they're not exactly detailed."

Char leaned against the railing beside him. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

Fin smiled. "You sound like Snive."

"He's a smart man," Char said, grinning.

Fin laughed, pulling her close. "He is."

They stood together, watching the horizon.

"Are you nervous?" Char asked after a moment.

"A little," Fin admitted. "The Reliquary is supposed to reveal Truth. But I don't know what that means. Or what it'll cost."

Char turned to face him. "Whatever it is, we'll face it Together."

Fin looked down at her, his expression tender. "Together."

Char kissed him softly, and for a moment, the weight of the Journey ahead felt lighter.

 

That afternoon, Swing was on lookout duty, perched high in the crow's nest.

He scanned the horizon, looking for anything unusual—Ships, storms, Sea creatures.

At first, he saw nothing.

But then, just at the edge of his vision, he caught a glimpse of something.

A Ship.

Dark sails. Sleek hull. Moving parallel to them, just far enough away to be almost invisible.

Swing squinted, trying to get a better look.

The Ship was there one moment, gone the next, hidden by the glare of the sun on the water.

"Huh," Swing muttered.

He watched for a few more minutes, but the Ship didn't reappear.

Maybe he'd imagined it.

Or maybe it was just another Merchant Vessel, heading in the same direction.

Still, something about it made him uneasy.

"Captain!" Swing called down. "I think I saw something!"

Fin looked up. "What kind of something?"

"A Ship, maybe?" Swing said. "But it's gone now."

Fin exchanged a glance with Snive.

"Could be nothing," Snive said. "These are busy waters."

"Could be," Fin agreed. But his hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword.

Char noticed. "You think it's Lamont?"

"I don't know," Fin said. "But we should stay alert."

Char nodded, her expression serious.

By evening, there was no sign of the mysterious Ship.

The Crew relaxed, chalking it up to Swing's overactive imagination.

But Fin couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

He stood at the helm long after the others had gone to bed, scanning the dark horizon.

Snive joined him, two mugs of tea in hand.

"Can't sleep?" Snive asked, handing him a mug.

"Not really," Fin admitted.

"You think Lamont's following us," Snive said. It wasn't a question.

"I think he's out there somewhere," Fin said. "Waiting."

Snive nodded slowly. "The Sea Witch won't let this go. Not after everything."

"I know," Fin said. "But we're ready. We have to be."

Snive studied him for a moment. "You've changed, Fin. You're... steadier. Stronger."

Fin smiled faintly. "I have something to fight for now. Someone to come home to."

Snive clapped him on the shoulder. "Then we'll make sure you do."

Far behind them, hidden in the darkness, Lamont's Ship, the Relentless, cut through the water like a shadow.

He stood at the helm, his eyes fixed on the distant glow of the Moonlight Wake's Enchantments.

The Sea Witch's voice echoed in his mind: 'Watch. Wait. Do not interfere.'

But every moment he watched, every second he waited, the rage inside him grew.

They were so close.

So Happy.

So Free.

And he was trapped in this endless torment, forced to follow, forced to witness everything he could never have.

Lamont's jaw tightened.

The Sea Witch had said to wait.

But she hadn't said for how long.

And Lamont was beginning to think that perhaps—just perhaps—he didn't have to obey her forever.

CHAPTER 6

 

Three days passed without incident.

The weather held fair, the winds were favorable, and the Moonlight Wake made excellent time.

The Crew fell into an easy rhythm—working, laughing, sharing meals on deck under the stars.

Char and Fin spent their evenings together, planning their future in quiet conversations that felt both thrilling and surreal.

"Where do you want to get married?" Char asked one night, lying beside him on the deck, staring up at the stars.

"I don't know," Fin admitted. "I haven't thought that far ahead."

"Well, start thinking," Char teased. "Because I'm not getting married on a random beach somewhere."

Fin laughed. "What's wrong with a beach?"

"Nothing," Char said. "But I want it to be special. Somewhere that means something to us."

Fin turned his head to look at her. "Everywhere means something when I'm with you."

Char's expression softened. "That was almost smooth."

"Almost?" Fin said, grinning.

Char kissed him. "Almost."

On the third day, Emerson called everyone to the deck.

"There," he said, pointing ahead.

On the horizon, a cluster of jagged Islands rose from the Sea like broken teeth.

The Shattered Isles.

The crew gathered at the railing, staring at the ominous silhouette.

"Well," Garrett said. "That looks inviting."

"Corwin's notes say the Sanctum is somewhere in the center," Emerson said. "But we'll have to navigate carefully. The reefs are treacherous."

"How treacherous?" Kenna asked.

"Very," Emerson said simply.

Snive stepped forward. "We'll take it slow. Emerson, you're on navigation. Everyone else, keep your eyes open. If you see rocks, shout."

The Crew nodded, their expressions serious.

Fin stood at the helm, his hands steady on the wheel.

Char appeared beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

"Ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be," Fin said.

Together, they guided the Moonlight Wake toward the Shattered Isles.

The closer they got, the more oppressive the Islands felt.

The water turned darker, the air colder.

Jagged rocks jutted from the Sea like claws, and the waves crashed against them with a sound like thunder.

"Left!" Emerson called out. "Reef ahead!"

Fin turned the wheel sharply, and the ship veered away just in time.

"Right! Another one!"

The crew worked in tense silence, calling out hazards, adjusting the sails, keeping the ship on course.

It took hours to navigate through the outer reefs, but finally, they reached calmer waters.

The Moonlight Wake slipped between two towering cliffs, entering a sheltered bay.

The crew exhaled collectively.

"That was fun," Marcus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We're not done yet," Snive said, pointing ahead.

Beyond the bay, the Islands rose in layers—rocky, barren, covered in ancient ruins.

"The Sanctum is in there somewhere," Emerson said, studying the map. "We'll have to go ashore."

Fin nodded. "We'll anchor here and take a smaller boat. Snive, Char, Emerson, and I will go first. The rest of you stay with the Ship."

"What if something happens?" Kenna asked.

"Then you come find us," Fin said. "But I don't want to risk the whole crew until we know what we're dealing with."

Kenna didn't look happy, but she nodded.

 

An hour later, Fin, Char, Snive, and Emerson rowed ashore in a small boat.

The beach was rocky and desolate, littered with broken stones and the remnants of ancient structures.

"Cheerful place," Snive muttered.

Emerson pulled out the map, orienting himself. "This way. The Sanctum should be inland, near the center of the island."

They set off, climbing over rocks and through narrow passages between crumbling walls.

The ruins were old—older than anything Fin had ever seen.

Symbols were carved into the stone, worn smooth by time and weather.

"What do these mean?" Char asked, tracing one with her fingers.

"I don't know," Emerson admitted. "But Corwin's notes mention them. He called them 'markers.' Guides to the Sanctum."

"Or warnings," Snive said.

"Let's hope for Guides," Fin said.

They walked for hours, the sun climbing higher in the sky.

The Island was eerily silent—no birds, no insects, no sound except the distant crash of waves.

"Does anyone else feel like we're being watched?" Char asked quietly.

"Yes," Fin said immediately.

Snive's hand went to his sword. "Stay alert."

They pressed on, following the markers deeper into the ruins.

Finally, they reached a massive stone archway, half-collapsed but still standing.

Beyond it, a staircase descended into darkness.

"The Sanctum," Emerson said, his voice hushed.

Fin stared down into the shadows. "This is it."

Char took his hand. "Together."

Fin nodded. "Together."

They descended into the darkness.

Far away, on his ship, Lamont watched through the Sea Witch's magic.

He saw them enter the ruins.

Saw them find the archway.

Saw them descend into the Sanctum.

His hands clenched.

They were so close now.

So close to the Diviner's Reliquary.

And he was still here, watching, waiting, obeying.

"No," Lamont whispered.

The Sea Witch's voice echoed in his mind: 'Patience.'

But Lamont was done being patient.

He turned away from the vision, his jaw set.

"Prepare the Ship," he ordered his Crew—Shadows and Spirits bound to his will. "We're going ashore."

The Sea Witch's laughter echoed around him, cold and mocking.

'Disobedience, Captain Quincy? How delicious.'

Lamont didn't respond.

He was done listening to her.

Done waiting.

Done watching Fin have everything he'd lost.

It was time to take it back.

 

CHAPTER 7

 

The staircase was steep and narrow, carved directly into the stone.

Fin led the way, one hand on the wall for balance, the other holding a torch.

Behind him came Char, then Emerson, then Snive bringing up the rear.

The air grew colder as they descended, and the darkness pressed in around them.

"How far down does this go?" Char asked, her voice echoing.

"Corwin's notes didn't say," Emerson replied. "But the Sanctum is supposed to be deep underground."

"Of course it is," Snive muttered.

They continued down, the only sounds their footsteps and breathing.

Finally, the staircase ended, opening into a vast chamber.

Fin held up the torch, and the light flickered across ancient stone walls covered in carvings.

"Wow," Char breathed.

The chamber was enormous—pillars rising to a ceiling lost in shadow, intricate patterns carved into every surface.

In the center of the room stood a stone pedestal with an inscription.

"What does it say?" Fin asked.

Emerson studied the ancient text. "Something about... the worthy. 'Only those who prove themselves may enter the Sanctum of Echoes.'"

"Prove ourselves how?" Snive asked.

"I think we're about to find out," Char said, pointing.

Three corridors branched off from the main chamber, each one identical.

"Which way?" Fin asked.

He pulled out the brass compass, the one that had guided them through so many Journeys.

It had pointed them to safe harbors and hidden routes before, but now, in this ancient place, it glowed brighter than ever.

The needle spun, then pointed firmly toward the left corridor.

"That way," Fin said.

They entered the corridor carefully.

The passage was lined with carvings, and Char noticed symbols carved into the floor.

"Emerson," she said. "What do these mean?"

Emerson knelt, studying them. "I think they're—"

Click.

Char's foot had pressed down on a slightly raised stone.

"Don't move," Fin said sharply.

Everyone froze.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, with a grinding sound, sections of the wall began to shift.

"Run!" Snive shouted.

They bolted down the corridor as stone panels slid open, revealing rows of ancient spears that shot across the passage.

Fin grabbed Char's hand, pulling her around a corner as a spear whistled past where she'd been standing.

Emerson dove behind a pillar, breathing hard.

Snive rolled to safety just as the last spear embedded itself in the wall with a thunk.

Silence fell.

"Everyone okay?" Fin called out.

"Fine," Char said, her heart pounding.

"Still alive," Emerson said shakily.

"Peachy," Snive said dryly.

Fin exhaled slowly. "Watch where you step."

They moved more carefully after that, testing each stone before putting their weight on it.

The corridor led to another chamber, and Fin checked the compass again.

It pointed straight ahead.

But when they tried to move forward, a wall of stone suddenly slid into place, blocking their path.

"What—" Fin started.

The compass needle shifted, pointing to the right now.

They turned right, following a new corridor.

But after only a few steps, another wall appeared, cutting off that path too.

The compass spun, pointing back the way they'd come.

"The walls are moving," Char said, watching as passages opened and closed around them.

"It's a maze," Fin said, studying the compass with growing frustration. "The compass points toward the Reliquary, but the paths keep changing."

He touched one of the walls. It was solid stone, ancient and immovable—until it wasn't.

With a grinding sound, it slid aside, revealing a new passage.

But the one behind them closed.

"They designed it this way," Snive said. "Whoever built this place knew people would try to use Magic to find the Sanctum."

"So they made it impossible to follow," Char finished.

Emerson nodded. "The compass shows us where to go, but the maze won't let us get there. Not directly."

They spent the next hour trying to navigate the shifting passages.

Sometimes the compass led them forward, only for walls to block their path.

Other times, passages opened that the compass said were wrong directions.

 

They encountered more traps—pressure plates that triggered falling stones, doors sealed with riddles.

'I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with fears.'

"Echo," Char said, and the door opened.

 

'I can be cracked, I can be made. I can be told, I can be played.'

"A joke," Fin answered, and they moved forward.

 

'The more you take, the more you leave behind.'

"Footsteps," Snive said.

But even solving the riddles didn't help them reach the Sanctum.

The maze was too complex.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they reached a dead end.

The compass pointed straight ahead—through solid stone.

Fin pressed his hands against the wall, searching for a hidden mechanism, a trigger, anything.

Nothing.

He stepped back, frustration building.

They'd been navigating this maze for hours.

They were exhausted, battered from traps, and no closer to the Sanctum than when they'd started.

"We're not going to solve this today," Snive said quietly.

Fin wanted to argue, but he knew Snive was right.

"The maze is designed to test us," Emerson said, studying his notes. "Not just our ability to survive traps, but our patience. Our worthiness."

"So what do we do?" Char asked.

Fin looked at his Crew—tired, bruised, but still standing.

"We go back," he said. "We rest. We study what we've learned. And we come back tomorrow with a plan."

No one argued.

The Journey back through the ruins was easier—the traps had already been triggered, and they'd memorized the riddle answers.

By the time they emerged into daylight, the sun was setting.

The Crew waiting at the ship cheered when they saw them.

"Did you find it?" Kenna called out.

"Not yet," Fin said. "But we will."

They rowed back to the Moonlight Wake, and the Crew helped them aboard.

Lena had food waiting, and they ate gratefully, sharing stories of the traps and the maze.

"So the compass works, but the maze won't let you follow it?" Marcus asked.

"Exactly," Emerson said. "We need to figure out the pattern. There has to be a way through."

"Tomorrow," Fin said firmly. "Tonight, we rest."

They set up camp on the beach. Tents were pitched, a fire was built, and the Crew settled in for the night.

Fin sat by the fire, staring into the flames.

Char sat down beside him, handing him a mug of tea.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Frustrated," Fin admitted. "We were so close."

"We'll figure it out," Char said. "We always do."

Fin smiled, taking her hand. "I know."

They sat in comfortable silence, the fire crackling, the waves whispering against the shore.

Tomorrow, they would face the maze again.

But tonight, they had each other.

And that was enough.

 

CHAPTER 8

 

The next morning dawned bright and clear.

The Crew woke slowly, stretching sore muscles and nursing bruises from the previous day's trials.

Fin was already awake, sitting by the dying embers of the fire, studying Corwin's map.

Emerson joined him, two mugs of tea in hand.

"Any insights?" Emerson asked, handing him a mug.

"Not yet," Fin admitted. "But there has to be a pattern. The maze isn't random."

"Agreed," Emerson said. "I've been thinking about the carvings. Some of them repeated. Maybe they're markers—clues to the correct path."

"Worth exploring," Fin said.

They spent the next hour discussing theories, sketching diagrams in the sand, trying to piece together the puzzle.

By midmorning, the Crew was restless.

They'd come all this way, survived so much, only to be stopped by a maze.

"We need to do something," Kenna said. "Sitting here isn't helping."

"Emerson and I are working on it," Fin said.

"I know," Kenna said. "But the rest of us are going stir-crazy. Let us help. We can scout the perimeter, look for other entrances, anything."

Fin considered. "Alright. But stay in pairs. And don't go too far."

Kenna grinned. "You got it, Captain."

By afternoon, most of the Crew had dispersed—some scouting, some gathering supplies, some simply exploring the beach.

Fin stood near the edge of camp, stretching his arms overhead.

His muscles ached from yesterday's trials, and he needed to move.

Char appeared beside him, two practice swords in hand.

"Thought you could use a distraction," she said, offering him one.

Fin raised an eyebrow. "You want to spar?"

"Unless you're afraid I'll beat you," Char said, grinning.

Fin laughed. "Never."

They moved to a clear stretch of beach, away from the tents and fire.

The sand was firm beneath their feet, the sun warm on their shoulders.

Char took her stance, sword raised.

Fin mirrored her, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready."

They moved together like a dance.

Char struck first—a quick, testing jab that Fin deflected easily.

He countered with a sweeping arc, and she ducked beneath it, spinning away.

"Too slow," she teased.

"Just warming up," Fin shot back.

They circled each other, eyes locked, both grinning.

Char lunged, and Fin sidestepped, their wooden swords clashing.

She pressed forward, and he gave ground, letting her think she had the advantage.

Then he pivoted, spinning past her, his fingers brushing lightly across her side as he moved.

Char gasped, laughing. "That's cheating!"

"That's strategy," Fin said, his grin widening.

She whirled, striking fast, and he barely blocked in time.

"You're getting better," he said, genuinely impressed.

"I have a good teacher," Char said.

They moved again—strike, parry, spin.

It wasn't about winning or losing.

It was about the rhythm, the connection, the way they moved together without thinking.

Char feinted left, then struck right, and Fin let her blade slip past his guard.

The tip of her sword pressed lightly against his chest.

"Yield?" she asked, breathless and triumphant.

Fin looked down at the sword, then up at her, his expression soft.

"I yield."

Char lowered her sword, her smile radiant. "I won."

"You did," Fin said.

She stepped closer, her eyes sparkling. "Did you let me win?"

"Maybe," Fin admitted.

"Fin!"

"You earned it," he said, laughing. "You're fast. And clever. And—"

He didn't finish.

Char kissed him, and the world fell away.

When they finally pulled apart, both were smiling.

"I love you," Char said softly.

"I love you too," Fin said.

They stood there, the practice swords forgotten, the sun warm on their faces.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

 

Far away, hidden in the shadows of the ruins, Lamont watched.

He'd been following them since they arrived.

Watching them navigate the maze.

Watching them laugh around the fire.

Watching them now—sparring, kissing, happy.

His hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight.

He couldn't look away.

Couldn't stop watching.

Couldn't stop the rage building inside him.

They had everything.

Love. Hope. A Future.

And he had nothing.

Nothing but pain and loss and endless, unbearable loneliness.

The Sea Witch's voice echoed in his mind: 'Patience. Watch. Wait.'

But Lamont was done waiting.

He'd seen enough.

On the beach, Fin and Char finally broke apart, both laughing.

"Again?" Char asked, raising her sword.

"Always," Fin said.

They moved into position, ready to spar again.

But before they could begin, a shadow fell across the sand.

Fin looked up.

And his blood ran cold.

Lamont stood at the edge of the camp, his sword drawn, his eyes burning with rage.

"Enough," Lamont said, his voice low and dangerous. "I've watched long enough."

Char stepped closer to Fin, her hand tightening on her practice sword.

"Lamont," Fin said carefully. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes," Lamont said. "I do."

And he attacked.

 

CHAPTER 9

 

Lamont's blade came down fast.

Fin barely had time to raise his practice sword—wood against steel.

The impact jarred his arms, and the practice blade splintered.

Fin stumbled back, pulling Char with him.

"Run!" he shouted.

They sprinted across the sand, away from Lamont.

Char's foot caught on a half-buried stone, and she went down hard.

"Char!" Fin skidded to a stop, reaching for her.

She pushed herself up, wincing—

And that's when they saw it.

Lamont stood twenty paces away, his hand raised, dark energy crackling around his fingers—the Sea Witch's Magic.

"Fin—" Char breathed.

Lamont thrust his palm forward, and a wave of shadow shot toward them.

Fin braced himself—

But the shadow never reached him.

Light exploded between them.

Brilliant, blinding, pure.

Char stood with her hand outstretched, her eyes wide with shock.

The Light formed a shield, shimmering and translucent, holding back Lamont's darkness.

 "Char?" Fin breathed.

She didn't answer. She was staring at her own hand, trembling.

The Light flickered.

Lamont snarled and pressed harder, his Dark Magic pushing against her shield.

"You think your little Light can stop me?" he spat.

Char gritted her teeth, trying to hold the shield steady.

But she didn't know how.

Didn't know what she was doing.

The Light wavered, cracks forming.

"Char, let it go!" Fin shouted. "We'll run—"

"I can't!" Char gasped. "I don't know how!"

Lamont's Magic surged, and the shield shattered.

The force of it threw Char backwards.

Fin caught her, and they both hit the sand hard.

Lamont advanced, his sword raised.

"You took everything from me," he said, his voice shaking with rage. "My Ship. My Reputation. My Life. And now you stand here, happy, in love, planning a future—while I have nothing!"

Fin pushed himself up, putting himself between Lamont and Char.

"Lamont, listen to me—"

"No!" Lamont roared. "I'm done listening! Done watching! Done waiting!"

He swung his sword.

Fin dodged, rolling to the side, grabbing a piece of driftwood from the sand.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

Lamont struck again, and Fin blocked, the driftwood cracking under the force.

"You don't have to do this!" Fin shouted.

"Yes, I do!" Lamont said. "Because if I can't have happiness, neither can you!"

From the camp, Snive heard the commotion.

He turned, saw the fight, and his blood ran cold.

"Everyone, to the Captain!" he bellowed.

Kenna, Marcus, Garrett, Davey—they all came running.

Snive drew his sword and sprinted towards the beach.

Lamont's blade came down again, and this time, Fin's makeshift weapon shattered completely.

He was defenseless.

Lamont raised his sword for the killing blow—

And Snive's blade met his with a resounding clang.

"Get away from him," Snive growled.

Lamont turned, his eyes wild. "You."

"Me," Snive said. "And them."

The rest of the Crew arrived, weapons drawn, forming a protective circle around Fin and Char.

Lamont looked at them—outnumbered, surrounded.

But he didn't retreat.

Instead, he raised his hand again, Dark Magic swirling.

"You think numbers will save you?" he said.

He slammed his hand into the ground.

The sand exploded.

Shadows erupted from the earth—twisted, writhing forms summoned by the Sea Witch's Power.

The Crew staggered back as the shadow creatures rose, their forms shifting and indistinct.

"What are those?!" Garrett shouted.

"Dark Magic," Snive said grimly. "Stay together!"

The creatures attacked.

Kenna swung her blade, and it passed through one of the shadows, barely slowing it down.

"They're not solid!" she shouted.

"Aim for the core!" Emerson called out, pointing to the faint glowing centers of the creatures. "That's where the magic is anchored!"

Marcus struck true, his blade piercing the glowing core of one creature.

It shrieked and dissolved into smoke.

The Crew rallied, fighting back.

But there were too many.

And Lamont was still advancing on Fin.

Fin scrambled to his feet, unarmed, exhausted.

Char stood beside him, her hands trembling.

"I don't know how to control it," she said desperately. "The Light—I don't know how to make it work!"

"It's okay," Fin said, though his heart was pounding. 

Lamont stepped closer, his sword gleaming.

"You can't run," he said. "You can't hide. And you can't win."

Fin met his gaze. "Maybe not. But I won't stop trying."

Lamont's expression twisted. "Why? Why do you get to keep fighting? Why do you get hope when mine was taken from me?"

"I don't know," Fin said honestly. "But I know that this—hurting us—won't bring yours back."

For a moment, something flickered in Lamont's eyes.

Pain. Grief. Doubt.

But then it was gone, buried beneath rage.

"You're wrong," Lamont said.

He raised his sword—

And Char's light exploded again.

This time, it wasn't a shield.

It was a wave—pure, radiant, unstoppable.

It swept across the beach, dissolving the shadow creatures instantly.

Lamont staggered back, shielding his eyes.

When the light faded, Char collapsed to her knees, gasping.

Fin caught her before she could fall forward. "Char!"

"I'm okay," she breathed. "I just... I don't know what I did."

Lamont stood at the edge of the beach, his chest heaving, his sword still raised.

But the shadows were gone.

And the Crew was closing in.

"Leave," Snive said, his voice cold. "Now. Before we make you."

Lamont looked at them—at Fin, at Char, at the Crew standing together.

His hands shook.

"This isn't over," he said.

"It never is with you," Fin said quietly.

Lamont's jaw tightened.

Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the ruins.

Silence fell over the beach.

The crew stood frozen, weapons still drawn, staring at the spot where Lamont had been.

"Is everyone okay?" Fin asked, his voice hoarse.

"We're fine," Kenna said. "But what about you two?"

Fin looked down at Char, still kneeling in the sand, her hands glowing faintly.

"Char?" he said softly.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Fin, what's happening to me?"

Fin sat down on the sand beside her. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression steady despite the fear in his chest. "Whatever it is, you're not facing it alone."

Char nodded, but her hands were still shaking.

Snive approached, his expression grim. "He'll be back."

"I know," Fin said.

"And next time, he won't hold back," Snive said.

Fin looked toward the ruins, where Lamont had vanished.

"Neither will we."

CHAPTER 10

 

The Crew gathered around the fire that evening, but the usual warmth and laughter were absent.

Everyone was quiet, processing what had happened.

Char sat close to Fin, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea she hadn't touched.

Across the fire, Snive sat alone, his jaw tight, staring into the flames.

He hadn't said much since the battle.

Kenna broke the silence. "Is anyone going to talk about what just happened?"

"Lamont attacked us," Marcus said. "With Dark Magic. Shadow creatures. That's what happened."

"And Char—" Garrett started, then stopped, glancing at her. "Your Light. That was... incredible."

Char looked down at her hands. "I don't know what it was. I don't know how I did it."

"It saved us," Lena said gently.

"But I can't control it," Char said, her voice shaking. "What if next time I can't make it work? Or what if I hurt someone?"

Fin took her hand. "You won't."

"You don't know that," Char said.

"I know you," Fin said firmly. "And I know that whatever this Power is, it comes from you. From who you are. You would never hurt anyone."

Char met his gaze, her eyes glistening. "I'm scared."

"I know," Fin said softly. "But you're not alone."

Emerson cleared his throat. "If I may... I think I know what's happening."

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Corwin," Emerson said. "Your grandfather. He has power, doesn't he? Light magic."

Char nodded slowly. "He does. But he never said I would inherit it."

"Maybe he didn't know," Emerson said. "Or maybe it only awakens under certain circumstances. Extreme danger. Strong emotion."

"So what does that mean?" Char asked.

"It means you have a Gift," Emerson said. "One that can protect the people you love. But like any skill, it needs to be learned. Practiced."

"How?" Char asked.

Emerson hesitated. "I don't know. But perhaps Corwin does."

Char looked at Fin. "We can't exactly sail back and ask him right now."

"No," Fin agreed. "But we'll figure it out. One step at a time."

Across the fire, Snive stood abruptly.

"I'm going to check the perimeter," he said, his voice flat.

"Snive—" Fin started.

"I'll be back," Snive said, and walked away before anyone could stop him.

Fin watched him go, concern etched on his face.

Kenna leaned closer. "He's not okay."

"I know," Fin said quietly.

"Lamont killed his family," Kenna said. "And now he's back, attacking us. Snive's holding it together, but..."

"But he's barely holding on," Fin finished.

Kenna nodded.

Fin stood. "I'll talk to him."

Fin found Snive standing at the edge of the camp, staring out at the dark water.

"Snive," Fin said quietly.

Snive didn't turn. "I'm fine, Captain."

"No, you're not," Fin said, stepping beside him.

Snive's jaw tightened. "I said I'm fine."

"Snive—"

"I wanted to kill him," Snive said suddenly, his voice low and raw. "When I saw him standing over you, sword raised, I wanted to run him through. Not disarm him. Not drive him away. Kill him."

Fin said nothing, just listened.

"He took everything from me once," Snive continued. "My wife. My son. My entire Life. And today, he tried to take my second Family. You. Char. The Crew. Everyone I've come to care about."

His hands clenched into fists.

"I should have killed him when I had the chance."

"But you didn't," Fin said gently.

"No," Snive said bitterly. "Because you were there. And I knew—I knew you wouldn't want that."

Fin looked at him. "Snive, I would never ask you to—"

"You don't have to ask," Snive said, finally turning to face him. "I know you, Fin. I know you believe in Second Chances. In Mercy. In finding another way. And I Trust you. I do. But that doesn't make this easier."

Fin's chest tightened. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Snive said. "You're a better man than I am. You see something worth saving in people, even when they don't deserve it. That's why this Crew follows you. That's why I follow you."

He paused, his expression pained.

"But I need you to understand something. If he comes at you again—if he threatens you or Char or anyone on this Crew—I swear I won't hesitate. Not again."

Fin held his gaze. "I understand."

Snive nodded slowly, then looked back at the water.

They stood in silence for a moment.

"For what it's worth," Fin said quietly, "I don't know if there's another way. Not yet. But I have to try."

"I know," Snive said. "And I'll stand with you. Whatever you decide."

"Thank you," Fin said.

Snive didn't respond, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.

When they returned to the fire, the Crew was still talking quietly.

Char looked up as Fin sat beside her. "Is he okay?"

"He will be," Fin said, though he wasn't entirely sure.

Char leaned against him, and Fin wrapped his arm around her.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

Fin looked around at his Crew—tired, shaken, but still here. Still together.

"We rest tonight," he said. "And tomorrow, we go back into the maze. We find the Sanctum. And we end this."

"How?" Marcus asked.

"I don't know yet," Fin admitted. "But we'll figure it out. We always do."

The Crew nodded, drawing strength from his certainty even when he didn't feel it himself.

 

Later that night, after most of the Crew had gone to sleep, Fin and Char sat alone by the dying fire.

"Do you really think we can end this?" Char asked softly.

"I have to believe we can," Fin said. "Cause otherwise we'd be living like this forever. Always looking over our shoulder. Always waiting for the next attack."

Char nodded. "And the Reliquary? You think it's the answer?"

"Corwin seemed to think so," Fin said. "He said it reveals Truth. Maybe that's what Lamont needs. To see the Truth."

"What Truth?" Char asked.

Fin was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. But I think... I think he's in pain. Real, deep pain. And he's lashing out because he doesn't know what else to do."

"That doesn't excuse what he's done," Char said.

"No," Fin agreed. "It doesn't. But maybe understanding why will help us find a way to stop him. Without more bloodshed."

Char looked at him, her expression soft. "You really do see the best in people, don't you?"

"I try," Fin said. "Doesn't always work."

"It's one of the reasons I love you," Char said, kissing his cheek.

Fin smiled, pulling her closer.

They sat together in the firelight, holding onto each other, holding onto hope.

Tomorrow, they would face the maze again.

But tonight, they had this moment.

They had each other 

 

CHAPTER 11

 

Morning came too soon.

The Crew woke stiff and sore, the events of the previous day weighing heavily on everyone.

Fin stood at the edge of camp, staring at the beach where they'd fought Lamont.

The sand was still disturbed, marked with footprints and the remnants of Dark Magic.

Something nagged at him.

Every marble he'd found had been in a place connected to Lamont's pain. His mother's grave. The basement where he was locked away. Places where Lamont's suffering had left a mark.

And yesterday, Lamont had broken.

Finally, completely, he'd given in to his rage.

If there was another marble...

Fin walked across the battlefield slowly, his eyes scanning the ground.

Near the spot where Lamont had stood when he summoned the shadow creatures, something caught the morning light.

Fin knelt and down in the sand.

A marble.

Darker than the others, with swirls of deep blue and black, like storm clouds.

He picked it up, and the world shifted.

 

He was no longer on the beach.

He was standing in a sunlit garden, roses blooming along stone walls.

A girl laughed—bright and musical.

She had blonde wavy hair that caught the light like gold, and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief.

Annalise.

She ran through the garden, her skirts swishing, glancing back over her shoulder.

"You'll have to catch me first!" she called.

A boy chased after her—fifteen, maybe sixteen, grinning wider than Fin had ever seen Lamont smile.

Young Lamont.

He was lighter somehow. Unburdened. Happy.

He caught up to her near the fountain, his heart pounding. Both of them were breathless and laughing. 

"I win," he said.

"You cheated," Annalise said, still smiling.

"I did not."

"You took the shortcut through the rose bushes."

"Tactics. What can I say?" Lamont said, and she laughed again.

He stared at her—at her smile, her grace, the way the sunlight made her hair glow.

"What?" she asked, noticing.

"You're beautiful," he said softly.

She blushed. "Lamont..."

"I mean it," he said. "Not just... not just your face. The way you laugh. The way you see the World. You make everything feel lighter."

Annalise's expression softened. "You make me feel Brave."

They stood there, close, the World narrowing to just the two of them.

And then Lamont kissed her.

Gentle. Tentative. Perfect.

When they pulled apart, both were smiling.

 

The scene shifted.

A grand dining hall. A visiting lord sat across from Lamont's father, laughing loudly.

Lamont and Annalise sat together at the far end of the table, whispering and trying not to giggle.

Annalise said something, and Lamont burst out laughing—loud and unrestrained.

The visiting Lord grinned. "Ah, young love! Boys will be boys, eh?"

But Lamont's father didn't smile.

His gaze was cold, fixed on his son.

Lamont noticed and fell silent, the laughter dying in his throat.

 

The scene shifted again.

Night. The garden. Lamont and Annalise sat together on a stone bench, their hands intertwined.

"We could leave," Annalise whispered. "Just... go. Start over somewhere new."

"Where would we go?" Lamont asked.

"Anywhere," she said. "Somewhere your father can't reach us. Somewhere we can just... be."

Lamont looked at her, hope and fear warring in his eyes. "You'd really leave with me?"

"Of course," Annalise said. "I love you."

"I love you too," Lamont said, squeezing her hand. "We'll do it. We'll leave. Together."

They kissed again, sealing the promise.

Fin felt Quincy's joy and hope for the future.

 

The scene shifted one final time.

Rain. Cold and relentless.

Lamont stood at a tall window, his hands pressed against the glass, his face streaked with tears.

Outside, a carriage rolled away through the storm, disappearing into the gray.

"Annalise!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "ANNALISE!"

But the carriage didn't stop.

Behind him, his father's voice—cold, merciless.

"She was below your station. A merchant's daughter. You should be grateful I intervened before you ruined yourself completely."

"Father, please—" Lamont turned, desperation in his eyes. "Let me go after her. Let me explain—"

"No." His father stepped closer, towering over him. "You will forget her. You will focus on your duties. And you will never speak her name again."

"But I love her!" Lamont shouted.

His father's hand struck fast, and Lamont stumbled back, his cheek red.

"Love is weakness," his father said coldly. "And I will not tolerate weakness in my son."

Lamont stared at him, tears streaming down his face.

Then he turned back to the window, watching the carriage disappear into the rain.

Watching his future disappear with it.

Watching the only light in his life vanish.

Fin felt Lamont's heart ache.

He felt the deep and unbearable sadness.

And he felt something inside of Lamont break.

 

Fin gasped, stumbling back.

"Fin!"

He looked up to see Char running toward him, concern etched on her face.

"What happened?" she asked, reaching him. "I saw you from camp—you looked like you were going to fall."

Fin stared at the marble in his hand, his chest tight.

"Her name was Annalise," he said quietly.

Char's eyes widened. "Another Soul Fragment?"

Fin nodded, his voice thick. "She had blonde hair and blue eyes. She laughed like... like sunlight. They were in Love. Real Love. They were going to run away together."

He looked up at Char, his eyes haunted.

"But his father found out. Called her 'below his station.' Sent her away in the rain. Lamont watched her carriage leave and never saw her again. His father struck him. Told him Love was weakness."

Char's hand went to her mouth.

"He lost her," Fin continued. "Just like I almost lost you when Fair Winds sailed away. He had to watch the person he loved most disappear, and he couldn't do anything to stop it."

He looked down at the marble again.

"And it broke him. Completely."

Char took his hand gently. "Fin..."

"I understand now," Fin said, his voice thick with emotion. "Why he hates me so much. Why watching us together is unbearable for him. Because we have what he lost. What was stolen from him. We get to be happy. We get to plan a future. And he never got that chance."

"The things he's done. To you. To all of us. This doesn't change that," Char said carefully.

"No," Fin agreed. "It doesn't. Doesn't change it and doesn't make it any better. But now I understand why he can't let go. Why he keeps coming back. He's not just angry—he's grieving. And he doesn't know how to stop."

He tucked the marble into his pouch with the others.

All of them. Complete.

"Come on," Char said softly. "The Crew is waiting. We should tell them."

 

Fin gathered everyone after breakfast, spreading Corwin's map and Emerson's notes on a flat rock.

But first, he held up the dark marble.

"I found the this," he said. "This morning. On the beach."

The Crew leaned in, curious.

"What did you see?" Kenna asked.

Fin hesitated, then told them.

About Annalise. About young Lamont—happy, laughing, in love. About their plans to run away. About his father's cruelty and the carriage disappearing in the rain.

When he finished, the crew was silent.

"So that's why," Marcus said quietly. "That's why he's so..."

"Broken," Snive finished, his voice flat.

Fin looked at him. Snive's expression was unreadable.

"This doesn't excuse all the awful things he's done. To me. To my Family. Doesn't make it right. Doesn't make it any better," Snive said. 

"No," Fin agreed. "It doesn't. But maybe... maybe it helps us understand how to stop him."

"How?" Garrett asked.

"The Reliquary," Fin said. "Corwin said it reveals Truth. Maybe if Lamont sees the Truth—really sees it—he'll understand that hurting us won't bring her back."

"And if he doesn't?" Snive asked.

Fin met his gaze. "Then we do what we have to do."

Snive nodded slowly.

"Alright," Fin said, turning back to the map. "Now. The maze. We need a new strategy."

 

An hour later, Fin, Char, Snive, Emerson, Kenna, and Marcus descended back into the ruins.

The entrance chamber was exactly as they'd left it—silent, ancient, waiting.

Fin pulled out the compass. It glowed softly, pointing toward the left corridor.

"Same as yesterday," he said.

They entered carefully, moving past the triggered traps from the day before.

When they reached the first shifting wall, Emerson pulled out parchment and charcoal.

"Alright," he said. "Let's see what happens."

The compass pointed straight ahead.

They moved forward—and the wall slid into place, blocking their path.

Emerson sketched quickly. "Wall closed after ten paces. Compass now points right."

They turned right.

After five paces, another wall appeared, cutting off that route.

"Wall closed after five paces," Emerson muttered, sketching again. "Compass points back."

They retraced their steps.

This time, a new passage had opened to the left.

"Interesting," Emerson said. "The maze isn't random. It's responding to our movements."

"So it's testing us," Char said.

"Or guiding us," Fin said. "Maybe the maze wants us to find the right path. We just have to figure out how."

They spent the next two hours navigating the shifting passages, with Emerson documenting every change.

Slowly, a pattern began to emerge.

"Look," Emerson said, pointing to his sketches. "Every time we move forward and hit a dead end, a new path opens to the left. And every time we take that left path, it eventually curves back toward the center."

"So the maze is spiraling inward," Kenna said.

"Exactly," Emerson said. "We're not supposed to follow the compass directly. We're supposed to spiral."

Fin studied the sketches. "So if we keep taking the left paths, even when the compass says otherwise..."

"We'll eventually reach the center," Emerson finished.

"Let's test it," Fin said.

They moved forward again, and when the wall blocked their path, they ignored the compass and turned left.

The passage stayed open.

They continued, taking every left turn, even when the compass pointed in other directions.

And slowly, steadily, they descended deeper into the maze.

"It's working," Marcus said, amazed.

"The compass was never meant to lead us directly," Emerson said. "It was meant to show us where the Sanctum is. But the maze forces us to earn the path."

"Clever," Kenna said. "Frustrating, but clever."

They pressed on.

 

After what felt like hours, they finally reached it.

A massive door, carved with intricate symbols, standing slightly ajar.

Beyond it, a faint blue glow.

"The inner Sanctum," Emerson breathed.

Fin stepped forward, his hand on the door.

He could feel it—the weight of what lay beyond.

The Diviner's Reliquary.

The Truth.

The end of this Journey.

"This is it," he said.

Char took his hand. "Together."

Fin nodded.

Together, they pushed the door open.

CHAPTER 12

 

The door opened into a vast chamber that took Fin's breath away.

The ceiling soared high above them, carved with constellations that glowed with soft blue light.

Pillars lined the walls, each one etched with ancient symbols.

And in the center of the room, on a raised platform, stood the Reliquary.

It was beautiful.

A chalice-like vessel, made of silver and crystal, with two ornate handles curving upward like wings.

It glowed with an inner light—soft, pulsing, alive.

"That's it," Emerson whispered, awe in his voice.

Fin stepped forward slowly, his eyes fixed on the Artifact. He could feel its Power from here—ancient, patient, waiting. 

Fin approached the platform carefully. The Reliquary seemed to hum as he drew closer, the light pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.

He reached out—

And the ground shook.

"What was that?" Marcus shouted.

The pillars began to glow, brighter and brighter.

And then, with a grinding sound, sections of the floor slid open.

Stone figures rose from the openings—tall, armored, faceless.

Guardians.

"Here we go," Kenna muttered, drawing her sword.

The stone figures moved with surprising speed, their weapons—massive stone blades—raised.

The crew scattered as the guardians attacked.

Kenna met the first guardian head-on, her blade clanging against its stone sword.

The impact jarred her arms, but she held firm.

"They're solid!" she called out. "Aim for the joints!"

Marcus struck at a guardian's knee, and cracks spread across the stone.

It stumbled, and he struck again, shattering the leg.

The guardian collapsed, crumbling into rubble.

"Got it!" Marcus yelled. "Hit the joints!"

But there were six guardians, and only five of them.

Fin dodged a sweeping blade, rolling to the side.

He had no weapon—he'd forgotten his sword at camp.

"Char!" he shouted. "Can you use your Light?"

Char raised her hands, trying to summon the Power.

Light flickered around her fingers, but it was weak, unstable.

"I don't know how!" she said desperately.

A Guardian advanced on her, its blade raised.

Fin threw himself between them, grabbing a piece of broken stone from the floor.

He swung it hard, striking the Guardian's arm.

Cracks formed, but the Guardian didn't stop.

It swung again, and Fin barely dodged.

Char's Light flared suddenly—brighter this time, more focused.

The Guardian staggered back, shielding its face.

"I've got this one!" Char shouted, her hands glowing. "Go help the others!"

Fin hesitated, then nodded. He trusted her completely, and knew that she could hold her own.

Emerson was backed against a pillar, a Guardian closing in.

"Any ideas?" he shouted.

"Working on it!" Kenna yelled back, fighting off two guardians at once.

The chamber was chaos—stone clashing against steel, the crew fighting desperately to survive.

And then, a voice echoed through the chamber.

Cold. Familiar.

"How touching."

Fin's head snapped toward the doorway.

Lamont stepped through, his sword drawn.

"You actually made it," he said. "I'm almost impressed."

Fin felt that familiar chill run down his spine. "Lamont."

"Did you think I wouldn't follow?" Lamont said, stepping into the chamber. "Did you think I'd just let you claim it?"

His eyes locked on the Diviner's Reliquary, and something shifted in his expression.

Hunger. Desperation.

"It's mine," he said.

Lamont sprinted towards the platform, his sword forgotten, his focus entirely on the Artifact.

Fin ran.

They both reached the platform at the exact same moment. Both reaching. Their fingers grasped the Diviner's Relaquary at the same time.

Lamont grabbed one handle.

Fin grabbed the other.

Their eyes met for a split second—shock, realization.

And then the world exploded into light.

CHAPTER 13

 

Light.

Endless, blinding, all-consuming.

Fin couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

The Reliquary's power surged through him like lightning.

And then—

Fin became Lamont. He was a child running on a beach with a kite while his mother watched.

He felt Happiness. He felt Wonder.

 

He looked down at his hands—a child's hands.

Lamont's hands.

Eight years old.

"I want to make you proud, Father," young Lamont said.

A tall man loomed over him, his face cold and severe.

"Then stop being weak."

Fin felt it—the desperate need for approval.

The fear of disappointing.

The crushing weight of never being enough.

 

The scene shifted.

A woman sat beside him, reading by candlelight.

Her voice was warm, gentle.

"You have a good heart, my son. Don't let anyone take that from you."

Lamont's mother.

Fin felt the love—pure, unconditional.

And then—

Rain.

A funeral.

Lamont stood next to his father, barely ten years old, staring at a grave.

His mother's grave.

Tears streamed down his face, but a hand gripped his shoulder—hard.

"Tears are for the weak," his father said. "You will not disgrace me."

Fin felt the grief—raw and overwhelming.

Felt it being crushed down, buried, forbidden.

Felt something inside of him begin to break.

Lamont, trying to live up to his mother's dieing request, defended a servant child being bullied by another young Lord. 

Fin felt the anger at the injustice.

He felt Lamont's Spirit. Being Brave. Being Kind.

His father punished him for his Kindness.

 

Twelve years old. His father handed him a pistol. They were on a ship with three men lined up. One man begged for his life. Lamont's father ordered him to kill the man. He had no choice. And pulled the trigger.

Fin felt his fear. His sadness. The revulsion of what he'd just done.

 

His father would take him Pirate Hunting more than once.

 

Again it shifted. 

Lamont was running now. 

"I'm coming, Tobias!"

Running with his friend. Escaping a life that neither of them wanted. Seeking Freedom.

Fin felt the whip as Lamont was punished.

Felt his anguish as he watched his only friend hang.

Then sunlight.

A garden.

Roses blooming.

A girl laughed, her blonde hair catching the light like gold.

Annalise.

Fin felt Lamont's heart leap.

Felt joy—real, pure joy—for the first time in years.

They chased each other through the garden, breathless and happy.

She turned, her blue eyes sparkling.

"You'll have to catch me first!"

Fin felt the lightness.

Felt like he could breathe again.

Like he was more than his father's disappointment.

Like he was loved.

Night. The garden again.

Annalise whispered, "We could leave. Just go. Start over somewhere new."

"Where would we go?" Lamont asked.

"Anywhere. Somewhere your father can't reach us. Somewhere we can just... be."

Fin felt the hope blooming—fragile but real.

"You'd really leave with me?"

"Of course. I love you."

"I love you too."

They kissed again, sealing the promise.

Fin felt the future opening up before him.

Felt happiness within reach.

Finally.

And then—

Rain.

Cold and relentless.

Lamont stood at a tall window, his hands pressed against the glass.

Outside, a carriage rolled away through the storm.

"ANNALISE!"

Lamont screamed, but the sound was swallowed by thunder.

Fin felt Lamont's heart shattering.

Felt the future disappearing into the rain.

Felt everything good being ripped away.

His father's voice behind him—cold, merciless.

"She was below your station. A merchant's daughter. You should be grateful I intervened before you ruined yourself completely."

"Father, please—" Lamont turned, desperation choking him. "Let me go after her. Let me explain—"

"No. You will forget her. You will focus on your duties. And you will never speak her name again."

"But I love her!"

The slap came fast and hard.

Fin felt his cheek burning.

Felt the humiliation.

Felt the last piece of his heart break.

"Love is weakness," his father said. "And I will not tolerate weakness in my son."

Lamont turned back to the window.

Watched the carriage disappear.

Watched his future vanish.

Watched the only light in his life go out.

And felt something inside of him die.

 

The basement.

Dark. Cold. Endless.

Quincy Lamont was about 16.

Being punished for defying his father and trying to show mercy.

Lamont pounded on the door, his fists bruising.

"I'm sorry! I'll be better! Please!"

But no one came.

Hours became days.

Days became weeks.

Fin felt the terror of being forgotten.

Felt the loneliness eating away at him.

Felt hope dying, piece by piece.

Until there was nothing left but darkness.

The years after.

Joining the Navy, though it was never what he wanted.

Advancing in the Ranks. Clawing his way to the top. Becoming Lord Admiral.

Building walls.

Becoming cold.

Becoming ruthless.

Heartless.

Becoming what his father wanted.

Fin felt the numbness spreading.

Felt himself becoming hollow.

Felt the rage growing—at his Father, at the World, at Himself.

 

Lamont was in a grand office.

Crownsport.

A Guard dragged a boy into the room.

"What is your name?" Lamont asked.

He'd remembered seeing this boy sail in on the Fair Winds. He had been standing on the dock.

"Fin- Finian Bollard."

This boy looked wild.

Someone who needed to learn their place. Learn what he had learned. That misery is the only way.

He lied. Told Finian that his Crew would sail away without him. He saw the despair on his face.

Fin felt the satisfaction.

The thrill of power over another person.

He would make him watch them leave like he had to watch her go.

Fin felt Lamont's hate.

 

An Officer announced that Snive McLaine and Finian Bollard had escaped.

Fin felt Lamont's outrage.

 

Lamont was about to christen his Ship.

The Moonlight Wake.

It began to sail away.

His weapon to crush Freedom.

Destroy those who dared to be happy on the Sea.

Finian Bollard was at the helm.

Waving.

Mocking him.

"See ya later, Quincy! Thanks for the Ship!"

Lamont watched him take it. His chance to get even with the world. The boy dared humiliate him. Call him Quincy. His given name. His father's name. The name he never spoke but had to write on legal documents.

Fin felt the embarrassment.

The anger growing like a fire.

 

Fin watched as Lamont hunted him and the Moonlight Wake.

The exhaustion.

The frustration.

The need for Revenge.

 

Fin saw him desperately seeking the Power that the Sea Witch offered. Lamont had been powerless for so long. Unable to choose the course of his own Destiny.

 

The Naval Council was in ruins.

Flooded after a tidal wave of dark magic struck the building.

Lamont stood in the center of the destruction, his chest heaving, Dark Energy still crackling around him.

The Sea Witch appeared beside him, her form shifting like smoke and water.

"Well done," she purred. "You've made your point."

Lamont stared at the bodies, his expression empty. "They're gone."

Fin felt Lamont's disbelief. 

"They were in your way," the Sea Witch said. "Now, no one can stop you."

Lamont's hands trembled. "I killed them all."

Fin felt Lamont begin to feel afraid.

"You freed yourself," the Sea Witch corrected. "You took what was yours."

This wasn't Freedom.

Another piece of his Soul, torn away.

Then two more.

Fin felt Lamont feel the loss of something vital.

The Sea Witch smiled. "You're becoming exactly what you were meant to be."

"What have I done?" he whispered.

Fin felt the guilt. The sadness. The realization of what he had become.

 

Fin witnessed Lamont's whole life. 

Felt all that he had felt.

Understood his need for control.

A need to feel Powerful.

The Darkness that shaped him.

The cycle of Hatred that his father had passed forward.

His lost Love...

 

 

The light shifted, and suddenly Lamont was somewhere else.

On a ship.

The Serpent's Promise.

He looked down—his hands were smaller, younger.

Covered in rope burns and bruises.

Fin's hands.

"Move faster, boy!"

A whip cracked.

Lamont felt the sting across his back—sharp, burning.

Felt the humiliation as the crew laughed.

He hauled on the rope, his muscles screaming.

Someone shoved him, and he stumbled.

"Pathetic."

More laughter.

Lamont felt the shame.

Felt the desperate need to be invisible.

To survive.

The hold of the ship.

Dark. Cold.

Fin sat alone, arms wrapped around his knees.

He was crying, but trying not to make a sound.

Lamont felt the loneliness—crushing, suffocating.

Felt the bruises aching.

Felt the hopelessness.

"I just want to go home," he whispered.

But there was no home.

No one was coming.

He felt Fin's sadness.

Agonizing.

Remembering the death of his parents.

 

Aboard the Fair Winds.

Flashes of different days.

Watching stars.

Finding Family.

Lamont felt Fin's Happiness.

The Joy of being Free.

Crownport. The dock.

The Guard's hand moved to the club at his belt. "Come with me."

"I didn't do anything—" Fin tried to explain. Tried to convince the Guard that he was being honest. That he hadn't done anything wrong.

Lamont felt the panic rising—sharp and cold.

"Resisting an Officer." The Guard said, "That's another violation."

"I'm not resisting, I just—"

Another Guard appeared, older, with a scar across his cheek. "Problem?"

"Possible vagrant," the first guard said. "No papers. Acting suspicious."

The scarred Guard looked Fin up and down. "He's got the look of a Pirate."

"We'll let Lord Admiral Lamont decide that."

They grabbed his arms.

Fin struggled. "Wait—please—I'm Crew on the Fair Winds! Ask Captain Pratchet! He'll vouch for me!"

But they weren't listening.

They dragged him away from the docks, away from the Ship, away from the only real Family he'd known in years.

Lamont felt Fin's fear

Fin was in prison.

Dawn. Fin looked out the window.

And in the distance, the Fair Winds sailed away.

Lamont felt the despair and fear.

Fin screamed for them. But they were too far away. They couldn't hear him.

Lamont felt his heart breaking.

Felt the abandonment—raw and devastating.

They left him.

They left him behind.

Lamont watched Fin find his Crew one by one. He was making a new Family, though at first he didn't realize it.

He felt Fin's Happiness, overwhelming, when he found Kenna, Marcus, and Davey from the Fair Winds. 

It confirmed that Snive had been right.

That they hadn't abandoned him.

Lamont had left them no choice but to sail away.

 

Exhilaration.

At the helm of the Moonlight Wake.

The Ship that would become his Home.

 

Fear and exhaustion while Lamont was hunting him and his Crew.

 

The branding.

Lamont felt the blade press into his skin.

Felt the searing, unbearable pain as the cursed knife carved into him.

Smelled his own flesh burning.

He screamed—couldn't stop screaming.

And through the agony, he heard a voice.

Lamont heard his own voice.

Cold. Merciless.

"Now everyone will know what you are. A thief. A liar. Mine."

Lamont felt the horror of it.

Felt what he'd done.

What he'd become.

 

He felt Fin dieing.

The weakness.

The pain.

Cold stone walls and iron chains on his wrists.

The flashes of consciousness.

Felt more pain as Corwin removed the curse.

 

Lamont witnessed Fin's trauma.

Saw the nightmares.

Felt how afraid Fin had been.

The deep sadness as his body forced him to cry it out one night, when waking from a nightmare. 

Recovering.

Healing.

 

On the deck of the Moonlight Wake. "Listen up!" Fin called, his voice stronger than he felt.

The crew gathered around.

"We've been running for weeks," Fin said. "Hiding. Trying to stay out of sight. But it's not working. Lamont found us anyway. And he'll keep finding us."

The Crew murmured, uneasy.

"So we're going to stop running," Fin said. "We're going to sail openly. Help people who need it. Stand against those who abuse their power. Show the world what Silver Tide and the Moonlight Wake really stands for."

He paused.

"This won't be easy. Lamont will keep hunting us. There will be danger. But we'll face it together. As a Crew. As a Family. If you want to. You're not forced to stay."

The Crew was silent.

Then Kenna stepped forward. "I'm with you, Captain."

Marcus nodded. "So am I."

One by one, the Crew voiced their support.

And finally, Snive. "Always."

Fin smiled—fragile, but real.

"Then let's show them what we're made of."

Lamont felt the Hope.

Felt Fin's determination.

 

Finding Charolett.

Finding Love.

No longer alone.

No longer needing to bare the weight of everything.

A ship sinking.

The silver Ship.

The Moonlight Wake.

Felt Fin's chest tighten as he rowed to shore.

Lamont's doing once again.

Lamont heard his own laughter echo across the water.

"Run, Bollard!" he called. "Run as far as you can! I'll find you again!"

Lamont felt the rage and grief warring in Fin's chest.

The need to protect those he held dear.

 

Fin looked down and saw her hand inside him—not blood, not flesh, but something deeper.

Magic. Light. Life.

The Sea Witch's fingers closed around something, and she pulled.

Lamont felt it. Pain worse than the cursed blade.

Fin's silent scream tore through his mind as his heart—glowing, pulsing, alive—came free.

It hovered in the Sea Witch's palm, glowing and radiant, and then it began to change.

The warmth faded. The light dimmed. The heart turned blue and cold and crystalline, freezing solid in her hand.

"Beautiful," the Sea Witch whispered.

Fin collapsed to his knees, gasping, his hand clutching his chest.

It was still there—his heart was still beating—but something was gone.

Something vital. Something that made him him.

The Sea Witch held up the crystallized heart, admiring it. "You made a deal, Silver Tide. And now you're mine."

 

Lamont felt Fin's pain as he distanced himself from Charolett.

The one he loved.

The sea witch whispered, 'Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.'

Lamont felt everything as Fin warred against the compulsion.

Felt the heartache.

The horror.

The utter misery.

 

"Come back to me," Charlotte whispered. "Please. Come back."

The Sea Witch screamed at him to finish it, to end her.

But Charlotte held him tighter.

 

And something inside him shattered.

Something within him roared to life.

'No!' Fin thought, and this time, it wasn't just a thought.

It was his voice. His will. His heart.

Lamont felt Fin's fury.

'She's MINE. My love. My heart. My life. You can't have her. I will protect her with my last breath and after.'

The Sea Witch's voice hissed in his mind. ' No! You're mine! You can't fight me!'

'Watch me,' Fin thought.

And then he felt it—a warmth spreading through his chest, burning away the cold.

Love.

Not just Charlotte's Love for Him.

His Love for Her.

His Love for his Crew.

His Love for the Life they'd built together.

It was stronger than the curse.

 

The Moonlight Wake.

Silver and beautiful.

Rising from the water.

Coming Home.

 

Fin stood at the helm, the wind in his hair.

Charlotte beside him, her hand in his.

The crew laughing, working together.

A Family.

Lamont felt the warmth of it.

Felt the Love.

Felt the Hope.

Everything he'd lost.

Everything he'd tried to destroy.

Because he couldn't bear to see someone else have it.

The light pulsed, and both of them gasped.

Fin felt Lamont's pain—the cruelty, the loss, the breaking.

Lamont felt Fin's suffering—the abuse, the torture, the scars he'd caused.

They felt each other's grief.

Each other's rage.

Each other's desperate, aching loneliness.

And they understood.

They saw each other completely.

Fin saw Lamont—not as the monster who had tortured him, but as a broken boy who had grown into a broken man. A victim who had become a perpetrator. A cycle that had never been broken.

And Lamont saw Fin—not as the thief who had stolen his ship, but as someone who had suffered just as he had. Someone who had been beaten, branded, cursed. Someone who had every reason to become cruel.

But hadn't.

Lamont saw himself in Fin's Memories.

Saw his own hands holding the cursed dagger.

Saw his own face twisted with rage.

Saw himself doing to Fin exactly what his father had done to him.

The same cruelty.

The same cycle.

He had become his father.

The realization shattered him.

And in that moment, as the Light blazed brighter, Fin understood.

Lamont had never escaped that basement.

He'd just built new walls AROUND himself.

Walls made of rage and vengeance and pain.

But Fin had escaped.

He had chosen differently.

They saw the cycle of cruelty and grief that had bound them together.

The similarities and differences in their Lives. 

That their Choices could shape or break the World around them.

A voice—ancient—whispered through the Light.

"Do you see?"

Yes.

They both saw.

"Do you see the Truth?"

Yes.

They'd seen everything.

The Light began to fade.

But before it did, the voice spoke again.

Softer this time.

Only to Fin.

"You have been found worthy, Captain Finian 'Silver Tide' Bollard, keeper of the Moonlight Wake. The Diviner's Reliquary is yours. And with it, one Truth. One Choice. One Gift."

The light swirled around him, warm and gentle.

"What do you choose?"

Fin looked at Lamont, still feeling the weight of what he'd done.

Still drowning in the pain he'd caused.

And Fin knew.

He knew what he had to do.

"I choose Mercy," Fin whispered.

The light pulsed.

"I choose to give him what was taken from him. What he never got."

Fin's voice grew stronger.

"I choose to give him a Second Chance. A childhood without cruelty. A Life without his father's poison. A chance to choose differently. To be better. To start again."

The Light flared, brilliant and blinding.

"So be it."

Lamont heard Fin's voice, speaking only to him. "You were broken," Fin said. "By your father. By loss. By pain. But you don't have to stay broken. I'm giving you something you never had: the Power to Choose who you will become."

Quincy Lamont forgot the words almost as soon as he heard them. But sometimes that which is forgotten isn't truly lost.

Before they came back to themselves the words of the Prophecy echoed in their minds:

"When silver cuts the waves, the balance tips—

The old order falls, the new tide rises.

Freedom or ruin, the Captain decides."

 

The world exploded back into focus.

The chamber.

The crew still fighting the guardians.

Fin and Lamont stood at the platform, their hands still on the Reliquary.

But everything had changed.

Fin held one handle of the Relaquary, but the hand that held the other was much smaller.

In Lamont's place, with the Light of the Diviner's Relaquary fading around him, was a small child.

Five years old. Maybe six.

Dark hair. Wide, confused eyes.

The child looked around, trembling, tears streaming down his face.

"Where... where am I?" he whispered.

The chamber fell silent.

The Guardians stopped moving, their purpose fulfilled, and sank back into the floor.

The Crew stood frozen, weapons still raised, staring at the child.

At what Lamont had become.

Fin knelt slowly, his legs shaking.

He looked at the child—innocent, afraid, with no memory of the monster he'd been.

"You're safe," Fin said gently. 

The child stared at him, trembling.

"What's your name?" Fin asked softly.

The child blinked, confused. "I... I don't know."

Fin smiled, though his eyes were wet.

"Then I'll give you one," he said. "Your name is Quint."

The child—Quint—nodded slowly, still afraid.

Fin picked up the small boy, and Quint clung to him, small and fragile.

Char stepped forward slowly, her hand covering her mouth.

"Fin... what did you do?"

Fin's eyes met hers, tears streaming down his face.

"I gave him what was stolen from him," he said. "A childhood. A chance to grow up without cruelty. A chance to choose who he becomes."

The child looked at her, still trembling. 

"It's alright," Char said softly. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

Behind them, Snive stood frozen.

His face was pale, his hands clenched into fists.

He stared at the child—at Lamont, transformed.

The man who killed his family.

Now a boy.

Innocent.

Helpless.

Snive's jaw tightened, and he turned away, saying nothing.

Kenna approached slowly, and put her sword away.

Marcus followed behind her. "What do we tell the others?"

"The Truth," Fin said. "That Lamont is gone. And this is Quint. A child who needs our help."

Emerson walked over, his expression thoughtful.

"The Diviner's Reliquary granted your wish," he said. "You were found worthy."

Fin nodded, exhausted.

"Let's go home," he said quietly.

The child clung to Fin, like he was the only real, solid thing in the world. He was just as tired as Fin was, and leaned his head against Fin's shoulder.

Char took Fin's hand, and together, they walked towards the door.

The Crew followed, silent and shaken.

As they left the chamber, the Reliquary's light faded.

Its purpose fulfilled.

Its truth revealed.

CHAPTER 14

 

They emerged from the Sanctum into late afternoon light.

The Crew was waiting at the entrance, weapons still drawn, eyes scanning for threats.

When they saw Fin carrying a small child, confusion rippled through them.

"Captain?" Lena called out. "What—where's Lamont?"

"Gone," Fin said simply. "I'll explain everything. But first, we need to get back to camp."

Quint clung to Fin's neck, his small face buried against Fin's shoulder.

He was trembling.

"It's okay," Fin said softly. " Everything's fine now. You're safe."

They made their way back through the ruins, the crew exchanging confused glances but staying silent.

Lena walked beside Fin. "Captain, who is that?"

"His name is Quint," Fin said. "And he's... he's coming with us."

Kenna opened her mouth to ask more, but Fin shook his head.

"Later," he said. "I promise."

 

They were halfway back to the beach when the air changed.

The temperature dropped.

The light dimmed, though the sun was still high.

And a voice—cold, ancient, amused—echoed across the ruins.

"Well, well. What have we here?"

Everyone froze.

Fin was filled with cold dread.

The Sea Witch.

She appeared before them like smoke coalescing into form.

Tall, draped in shadows that moved like living things, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

Beautiful and terrible all at once.

The Crew stepped back instinctively, weapons raised.

But the Sea Witch's gaze was fixed on Fin.

And the child in his arms.

"Captain Fin Bollard," she said, her voice like silk over steel. "Silver Tide. You continue to surprise me."

Fin held Quint closer. "What do you want?"

The Sea Witch tilted her head, studying them.

"I came to see the outcome of my little game," she said. "To see if Lamont would finally claim his revenge. To see if you would finally break."

Her eyes narrowed.

"But instead, I find... this."

She gestured to Quint, who whimpered and buried his face deeper into Fin's shoulder.

"You transformed him," the Sea Witch said, her voice filled with something between amusement and disbelief. "Into a child. How deliciously unexpected."

"He deserved a second chance," Fin said.

The Sea Witch laughed—a sound like wind through a graveyard.

"A second chance. How noble. How foolish."

She stepped closer, and the shadows around her writhed.

"Do you know what you've done, Captain? You've ruined my game. Lamont was my favorite piece—so broken, so predictable, so delightfully tragic."

Her expression darkened.

"And you took him from me."

The Crew moved to surround Fin, weapons raised.

But the Sea Witch barely glanced at them.

"Oh, please," she said. "Do you really think your little swords can harm me?"

She raised her hand, and darkness surged forward like a wave.

The Crew braced themselves—

But the darkness never reached them.

Light exploded between them.

Brilliant, radiant, blinding.

Charlotte stood at the front of the group, her hands outstretched, her eyes glowing with golden light.

A shield of pure Light surrounded them, holding back the Sea Witch's darkness.

The Sea Witch stopped, her eyes widening.

"You," she breathed.

Charlotte's hands trembled, but the shield held.

"Stay away from them," she said, her voice shaking but firm.

The Sea Witch stared at her, and slowly, a smile spread across her face.

"I should have known," she said. "The Old Healer may be Powerful, but not powerful enough. And you came from him. Him and a Mortal. He wanted to pass you off as his Granddaughter."

The Sea Witch laughed.

Char's Light wavered. But she made herself focus and held the shield strong.

The Witch circled the barrier, studying it.

"Light and Dark. The eternal balance. How poetic."

She pressed her hand against the shield, and where her Darkness met Charlotte's Light, they canceled each other out—perfectly balanced.

"Fascinating," the Sea Witch said. "The Balance holds. The Light to my Dark. The order to my chaos. Ha! It's laughable. I thought you were a threat."

Charlotte's shield flickered, but she held firm.

"I won't let you hurt them."

The Sea Witch laughed again, but this time it was different.

Less cruel.

Almost... impressed.

"You can't hurt me," she said. "And I can't hurt you. And not just because of the bargain I made with the Captain. We're perfectly matched, little light-bearer. Two sides of the same coin."

She stepped back, her expression thoughtful.

"I could break your friends. Sink their ship. Drown them all in shadow."

Charlotte's Light flared brighter. "No."

"But I won't," the Sea Witch continued. "Because you would shield them. And we would be locked in this stalemate forever."

She looked at Fin, then at Quint, then back at Charlotte.

"How boring."

The Sea Witch's shadows began to recede.

"You've made this game dull, Captain," she said. "I gave Lamont Power. I gave him the means to destroy you. And you turned him into a child."

She shook her head, almost disappointed.

"There's no fun in tormenting someone who refuses to play by the rules."

Fin held Quint tighter. "So you're leaving?"

"For now," the Sea Witch said. "You and your little light-bearer are free. Protected by the balance. How tedious."

She turned to go, then paused.

"But know this, Captain. The balance doesn't last forever. Children grow. Generations pass. And the Dark always finds new games to play."

Her gaze lingered on Quint.

"Perhaps one day, this child will remember what he was. Perhaps he'll seek me out again. Perhaps the cycle will begin anew."

"He won't," Fin said firmly.

The Sea Witch smiled. "We'll see."

And then she was gone, dissolving into shadow and mist.

The light around Charlotte faded, and she collapsed.

Fin caught her with one arm, still holding Quint with the other.

"Char!"

"I'm okay," she gasped. "Just... tired."

Kenna rushed forward, helping support Charlotte.

"What was that?" Marcus breathed.

"The Sea Witch," Emerson said, his voice shaken. "The one who gave Lamont his Dark Magic."

"And Charlotte just... stopped her," Lena said, amazed.

Charlotte looked up at Fin, exhausted but smiling weakly.

"Told you I'd protect you."

Fin laughed, though his eyes were wet. "You did. You really did."

Quint peeked out from Fin's shoulder, his wide eyes looking at Charlotte.

"What happened?" he asked in a small voice.

"We chased away the monsters," she said. "They won't bother us any more."

Snive stood at the edge of the group, staring at the spot where the Sea Witch had vanished.

"Is it really over?" he asked quietly.

"For now," Fin said. "She's gone. And she won't be back. Not for us."

He looked down at Quint, then at Charlotte, then at his Crew.

"We're Free."

They made their way back to the beach in silence, everyone processing what had just happened.

Quint had fallen asleep in Fin's arms, exhausted from fear and confusion.

When they reached camp, Fin gently laid him in one of the tents, tucking a blanket around him.

The child looked so small.

So innocent.

Fin stood there for a moment, watching him sleep.

His chest tightened.

The same face.

The same features.

Lamont's face.

But softer. Younger. Innocent.

Fin's hand went unconsciously to the scar on his chest.

Charlotte appeared at the tent entrance. "Fin?"

He looked up at her, his expression troubled.

"I need some air," he said quietly.

Charlotte nodded, understanding.

She watched him walk towards the water's edge, then looked back at the sleeping child.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" she whispered.

 

CHAPTER 15

 

The Crew sat around the fire, but the usual warmth and laughter were absent.

Everyone was quiet, processing what they'd witnessed.

What Fin had done.

What the Sea Witch had revealed.

Charlotte sat apart from the others, staring into the flames, her mind racing.

'The Old Healer may be Powerful, but not powerful enough. And you came from him. Him and a Mortal.'

The Sea Witch's words echoed in her mind.

Charlotte remembered her parents.

Her mother's gentle hands braiding her hair.

Her father's laugh when he taught her to sail.

Their faces were clear in her memory.

Real.

But if what the Sea Witch said was true...

Were they not really her parents?

Had Corwin lied to her all these years?

Called himself her Grandfather when he was actually her Father?

Charlotte's hands trembled.

She'd always known she was different.

The Light that came from her hands.

The way Corwin looked at her sometimes—with pride, yes, but also with something else.

Guilt?

Regret?

'I need to talk to him,' she thought. 'When we get back, I need answers.'

But not now.

Now, there were more immediate concerns.

She looked towards the tent where Quint slept.

A child who needed them.

A decision that needed to be made.

Her questions about Corwin could wait.

Fin couldn't sit still either.

He walked down to the water's edge, needing space to think.

Charlotte found him there a few minutes later, sitting on a large piece of driftwood, staring out at the dark waves.

She sat beside him, and for a moment, they just listened to the rhythm of the Sea.

"Are you okay?" she asked finally.

Fin let out a long breath. "I don't know. Are you?"

Charlotte hesitated. "The Sea Witch... what she said about Corwin. About me."

"I heard," Fin said quietly.

"I remember my parents," Charlotte said, her voice tight. "My Mother. My Father. They raised me. They loved me. But if what she said is true..."

She trailed off.

Fin took her hand. "We'll figure it out. When we get back, we'll talk to Corwin. Get answers."

"What if he lied to me?" Charlotte whispered. "What if everything I thought I knew about myself is wrong?"

"You're still you," Fin said firmly. "Whatever we find out, I'm with you, Char. Always. Forever."

Charlotte squeezed his hand, drawing strength from him.

They sat in silence for a moment.

She wasn't going to get answers today, so she pushed it to the back of her mind. There was another important question that needed to be addressed.

"What about Quint?" Char asked quietly.

Fin's jaw tightened. "I don't know what to do with him."

"You saved him," Charlotte said.

"I transformed him," Fin corrected. "But now... now I have to figure out what comes next."

He looked down at their joined hands.

"I can't just abandon him, Char. He's a child. He has no one. No memory of who he was. He's helpless."

"You feel responsible for him," Charlotte said gently.

"I am responsible for him," Fin said. "I made this choice. And now..."

He paused, struggling.

"I think... I think we need to take care of him," Fin said. "Give him what was taken from him. A childhood without cruelty. A Family."

He turned to look at her, his eyes searching hers.

"But I can't make that decision alone. We're going to be married, Char. If I bring Quint into my life, he becomes part of our Life. Part of our Family."

Charlotte's breath caught.

"I need to know if that's okay with you," Fin said quietly. "If you're willing to take on that responsibility with me. Because I won't do it without you."

Charlotte was quiet for a long moment, her eyes glistening in the moonlight.

"You're asking me if I'm willing to help raise the man who tried to kill us," she said softly.

"I'm asking if you're willing to help raise a child who deserves a chance," Fin said. "A boy who has no memory of the monster he was. Who could become someone completely different."

He paused, his voice dropping.

"But I need to be honest with you. I'm... I'm torn about it. I'm not sure-"

Charlotte squeezed his hand, listening.

"Every time I look at him, I see Lamont's face," Fin said, his voice tight. "The same eyes. The same features. The man who tortured me. Who branded me. Who tried to kill us."

His hand unconsciously went to the scar on his chest.

"I will never forgive Lamont for what he did to me," Fin said. "Never. That pain doesn't just disappear because I transformed him."

"Then why do this?" Charlotte asked gently.

Fin looked out at the water, struggling.

"Because this child isn't Lamont," he said finally. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. He has no memory of those choices. No memory of that cruelty. He's innocent."

He turned to her, his eyes haunted.

"But I don't know if I can do this alone. I don't know if I'm strong enough to look at that face every day and not see the man who hurt me. I need you, Char. I need you to help me remember that he's not Lamont. That he can be different."

Charlotte's tears spilled over.

"I'm scared," Fin admitted. "Scared that I'll fail him. Scared that I'll see Lamont instead of Quint. Scared that the anger will win."

"It won't," Charlotte said firmly. "Because you're not doing this alone. We'll do it together. And when you see Lamont, I'll help you see Quint. When the anger comes, I'll remind you why we're doing this."

She cupped his face in her hands.

"You're the bravest person I know, Fin. Not because you don't feel fear or anger or pain. But because you choose mercy anyway."

Fin's eyes closed, tears streaming down his face.

"Okay," he whispered. "Together."

"Together," Charlotte said.

They sat there for a long time, holding each other, the waves whispering against the shore.

In the morning, Fin gathered the Crew around the fire.

Quint was still asleep in the tent, exhausted from the previous day.

"I need to tell you all something," Fin said.

The Crew looked at him, waiting.

"Charlotte and I have decided to take care of Quint," Fin said. "He'll be part of our Family. Part of the Moonlight Wake."

Silence.

Kenna was the first to speak. "You're adopting him."

"Yes," Fin said simply.

Marcus shifted uncomfortably. "Captain, I respect your decision, but... are you sure? He's Lamont. Or he was."

"He's a child now," Fin said firmly. "A child who has no memory of what Lamont did. A child who deserves a chance to grow up differently."

"And if he remembers?" someone else asked.

"Then we help him," Fin said. "We teach him that he gets to choose who he becomes."

He looked around at his Crew—his family.

"I know this is hard. I know some of you are angry. Hurt. And I understand if you need time to accept this."

His gaze found Snive, standing at the edge of the group, his expression unreadable.

"But I'm asking you to Trust me," Fin said. "The way you always have."

Kenna stood. "I trust you, Captain. If you say this is the right thing to do, then I believe you."

Marcus nodded slowly. "It's going to take some getting used to. But... yeah. I'm with you."

Emerson stepped forward. "The Reliquary found you worthy for a reason. I trust its judgment. And yours."

One by one, the Crew voiced their support.

Until only Snive remained silent.

Fin approached him carefully. "Snive."

Snive didn't look at him. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched.

"I know what I'm asking of you," Fin said quietly. "And I know it's not fair."

Snive finally looked up, his eyes hard. "He killed my Family."

"I know," Fin said.

"My wife. My son. Everyone I loved."

"I know."

Snive's voice cracked. "And now you're asking me to help raise him."

Fin met his gaze, unflinching. "I'm asking you to help me raise a child. One who never asked to become what Lamont was. Your son deserved to grow up, to have a future. So does this boy."

Snive stared at him for a long moment.

Then he turned and walked away.

Fin watched him go, his heart heavy.

Charlotte came to stand beside him. "Give him time."

"I don't know if time will be enough," Fin said quietly.

"It will be," Charlotte said. "Because he trusts you. And because deep down, he knows you're right."

Fin hoped she was right.

But he wasn't sure.

Later that morning, as they prepared to leave the Island, Fin sat alone in his tent.

The wooden chest sat beside him—the one that had held the marbles. The pieces of Lamont's broken Soul.

He opened it slowly.

It was empty.

Fin stared at the empty space, his breath catching.

The marbles were gone.

All of them.

He wasn't surprised.

Somehow, he knew they'd returned to where they belonged.

Back to Lamont's Soul.

Now Quint's Soul.

Whole again.

Charlotte ducked into the tent. "Fin? We're ready to—"

She stopped, seeing the empty chest.

"The marbles," she said softly.

"They're gone," Fin said. "Back where they belong."

Charlotte knelt beside him, looking into the empty chest.

"It's a sign," she said. "That what you did was right. That he's whole now."

Fin closed the chest gently.

"I hope so," he said.

Charlotte took his hand. "Come on. Let's go home."

CHAPTER 16

 

They rowed back to the Moonlight Wake in silence.

Snive stared out at the water. Fin noticed how ridgedly he sat. How he refused to look at the child.

Quint sat between Fin and Charlotte, his small hands gripping the edge of the boat.

He watched the silver Ship grow larger as they approached, his eyes wide.

"Is that where we're going?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Fin said. "That's the Moonlight Wake. That's home."

Quint looked up at him. "Home?"

Charlotte squeezed his hand gently. "Home."

The rest of the Crew was waiting on deck when they climbed aboard.

They stood at the railing, their expressions a mix of relief and confusion.

"Captain," Garrett called out. "What happened? Where's—"

He stopped when he saw Quint.

The small boy clung to Fin's hand, half-hiding behind him.

"This is Quint," Fin said simply. "He's coming with us."

The crew exchanged glances but said nothing.

They gathered around, staring at the child.

Whispers rippled through them.

"Is that...?"

"It can't be."

"Captain, what did you do?"

Fin raised his hand, and the whispers died.

"I know you have questions," he said. "And I'll answer them. But first, we need to get underway. We're going home."

Kenna stepped forward. "You heard the Captain. Back to your stations. We sail in ten minutes."

The Crew dispersed slowly, still casting glances at Quint.

Fin knelt beside the boy. "It's going to be okay. They're just... surprised. They'll get used to you."

Quint nodded, but he didn't look convinced.

 

That afternoon, the Crew gathered for their midday meal.

It was the first time they'd all sat together since leaving the Sanctum, and the tension was thick.

Quint sat between Fin and Charlotte at the long table, his plate barely touched.

He kept his eyes down, feeling the weight of everyone's stares.

Across the table, Marcus cleared his throat. "So... Quint. How old are you?"

Quint looked up, startled. "I... I don't know."

"He's about five or six," Charlotte said gently. "Aren't you, sweetheart?"

Quint nodded slowly.

"Do you like Ships?" Lena asked, trying to sound friendly.

"I think so," Quint said quietly. "I've never been on one before. I think."

The Crew exchanged uncomfortable glances.

Swing, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly leaned forward.

He pulled something from his pocket—a small, polished stone that caught the lamplight.

"Look," Swing said, holding it out. "Shiny."

Quint's eyes widened. "It's pretty."

"You can hold it," Swing said, placing it in Quint's small hand.

Quint turned the stone over, watching the light dance across its surface.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Swing grinned. "Swing likes shiny things. You like shiny things?"

Quint nodded. "I think so."

For the first time that afternoon, the tension eased slightly.

After the meal, Fin gathered the Crew on deck while Charlotte took Quint below to show him where he'd be sleeping.

The Crew stood in a loose circle, waiting.

"I know this is hard," Fin said. "I know you're confused. Angry, maybe. And I understand."

"Captain," Garrett said carefully. "What happened in that chamber? Where's Lamont?"

"Gone," Fin said. "The Reliquary... it showed us the Truth. Both of us. I saw his past. He saw mine. And I was given a choice."

He paused, looking around at his Crew—his Family.

"I could have destroyed him. Ended him completely. But instead, I chose to give him a second chance. The Reliquary transformed him. Made him a child again. Gave him the opportunity to grow up differently. To choose who he becomes."

"And you're keeping him," Marcus said. It wasn't a question.

"Charlotte and I are adopting him," Fin said. "He'll be part of our family. Part of this Crew. Quint Bollard"

Silence.

Then Kenna spoke. "I Trust you, Captain. If you say this is right, then I believe you."

One by one, the others nodded.

Except Snive.

He stood at the edge of the group, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

When Fin looked at him, Snive turned and walked away.

Later that night, Charlotte sat in the small cabin they'd set up for Quint.

He was supposed to be sleeping, but he was wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

"Can't sleep?" Charlotte asked gently.

Quint shook his head. "I don't understand."

"What don't you understand, sweetheart?"

"Where I came from," Quint said, his voice small. "Why I can't remember anything. Why everyone looks at me like... like they're scared of me."

Charlotte's heart ached.

She sat on the edge of his bed. "You've been through something very difficult. Something that changed you. But you're safe now. And the people here—they're good people. They're just... adjusting. Give them time."

"What if they never like me?" Quint whispered.

"They will," Charlotte said firmly. "I promise."

She reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead.

Quint looked up at her, his eyes wide and uncertain.

"Are you... are you my mom?" he asked quietly.

Charlotte's breath caught.

Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled.

"I'm going to be," she said softly. "If that's okay with you."

Quint nodded slowly. "I think... I think I'd like that."

Charlotte pulled him into a gentle hug, and he clung to her.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" she asked when they pulled apart.

Quint nodded. "Yes, mommy."

Charlotte smiled and began.

"Once, there was a ship made of silver and moonlight..."

 

Fin stood in the doorway, watching. Leaning against the door frame.

He'd heard the question.

Heard Charlotte's answer.

And his heart broke and healed all at once.

Charlotte's voice was soft and soothing, weaving a tale of adventure and hope.

Quint's eyes grew heavy, his small body relaxing.

By the time Charlotte finished, he was asleep.

She tucked the blanket around him gently, then stood and walked to the door.

When she saw Fin, tears were streaming down her face.

Fin pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.

"He called you his mommy," Fin whispered.

Charlotte nodded against his chest, unable to speak.

"You're amazing," Fin said softly. " All of you. Incredible. Wonderful. You're going to be the best mom ever."

She smiled.

"We're in this Together," she said. "Always."

"Always," Fin agreed. "And I'm so glad you're here. Doing this with me. Thank you."

He placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her forehead.

They stood there for a moment, holding each other tightly, before quietly closing the door.

 

The next few days passed slowly.

Quint stayed close to Fin and Charlotte, still nervous around the Crew.

But gradually, small moments of connection began to form.

Emerson showed him how to tie a simple knot.

Lena let him help her sort supplies.

Swing continued to bring him shiny things—shells, stones, bits of sea glass.

And Quint began to smile more.

One afternoon, Fin and Charlotte stood at the helm together.

The sun was setting, casting it's blanket of colors.

Below them, Quint was on the main deck with Swing, chasing after a piece of cloth that had blown loose in the wind.

His laughter rang out—bright and pure.

Charlotte leaned against Fin, watching.

"He's starting to feel safe," she said.

"Yeah," Fin said. "He is."

He looked down at her. "We haven't had much time alone lately."

Charlotte smiled. "No, we haven't."

Fin took her hand. "Dance with me."

"There's no music," Charlotte said, laughing.

"We don't need music," Fin said.

He pulled her close, and they began to sway to the rhythm of the waves.

Charlotte rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"We're still us," she said softly.

"Always," Fin replied.

They danced in the fading light, the world narrowing to just the two of them.

When Fin leaned down to kiss her, it was soft and sweet and full of promise.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Charlotte said.

Below them, Quint looked up and saw them dancing.

He smiled, then turned back to Swing, who was holding up another shiny shell.

"Look! This one's even better!"

Quint laughed and reached for it.

 

From the shadows near the mast, Snive watched.

He watched Quint laugh.

Watched Fin and Charlotte dance.

The smile on his face.

Her laughter as he twirled her around.

Watched the crew slowly warming to the boy.

His hands clenched into fists.

He wanted to hate the child.

Wanted to see Lamont in every gesture, every smile.

But all he saw was a boy.

A boy who looked nothing like the monster who had destroyed his family.

A boy who was innocent.

Snive's jaw tightened, and he turned away.

But he didn't leave.

 

That night, as the Crew settled in for sleep, Fin stood at the railing, looking out at the dark water.

Charlotte came to stand beside him.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"That we're doing the right thing," Fin said. "I hope."

"We are," Charlotte said. "Look at him, Fin. He's Happy. He's Safe. He's becoming part of this Family."

Fin nodded. "I know. But I still see Lamont's face when I look at him. And I wonder... will I ever stop seeing it?"

Charlotte took his hand. "Maybe not. But you'll also see Quint. The boy he's becoming. The person he chooses to be. And that will matter more."

Fin pulled her close. "Thank you. For everything."

"Always," Charlotte said.

They stood there Together, the stars shining above them, the Moonlight Wake their Home on the waves.

 

CHAPTER 17: EPILOGUE 

 

The Moonlight Wake sailed into Port three days later.

The silver Ship gleamed in the morning sun, her sails catching the wind one last time before they furled.

The Crew moved with practiced efficiency, securing lines and preparing to dock.

Quint stood at the railing beside Fin, his eyes wide as he watched the bustling Port come into view.

"There are so many people," he said quietly.

"There are," Fin agreed. "But you don't have to worry about them. You're safe here."

Quint looked up at him. "Will we stay here?"

"For a little while," Fin said. "We need to resupply. Rest. And then we'll sail again."

"Where will we go?"

Fin smiled. "Wherever the wind takes us."

They docked without incident, and the Crew began unloading supplies.

Charlotte took Quint's hand as they walked down the gangplank.

"Stay close," she said gently. "It can be overwhelming the first time."

Quint nodded, gripping her hand tightly.

The Port was loud and chaotic—Merchants shouting, Sailors laughing, seagulls crying overhead.

But Quint didn't let go of Charlotte's hand.

And she didn't let go of his.

That evening, after the supplies were loaded and the Crew had dispersed into Town, Fin and Charlotte sat in their cabin with Quint.

He was supposed to be getting ready for bed, but he was too excited.

"Can I go up on deck?" he asked. "Just for a little while?"

Charlotte smiled. "Just for a little while. Then it's time to sleep."

Quint grinned and ran out of the cabin.

Fin watched him go, then looked at Charlotte.

"He's adjusting," he said.

"He is," Charlotte agreed. "Better than I expected."

Charlotte leaned against him. "We're a Family now."

"Yeah," Fin said softly. "We are."

Later that night, after Quint had finally gone to bed, Fin stood on deck under the stars.

The Port was quieter now, the chaos of the day settling into a peaceful hum.

Charlotte joined him, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"That we did it," Fin said. "We found the Diviner's Reliquary. We ended the threat. We're Free."

"And we have a son," Charlotte added.

Fin turned to face her, pulling her close.

"When should we get married?" he asked.

Charlotte smiled. "Soon. I want you to be my husband. I want us to be a Family. Officially."

"We already are," Fin said. "But I want it too. I want to stand in front of everyone and promise you forever."

"Forever," Charlotte whispered.

They kissed, soft and sweet, the stars shining above them.

Below deck, Quint stirred in his sleep.

At first, it was just restlessness.

But then his breathing quickened.

His small hands clenched the blanket.

And he began to whimper.

Darkness.

Cold stone walls.

A voice—his own voice, but older, crueler.

"I'll find you!" he shouted. "You can't run forever!""

Pain.

Screaming.

Blood.

A dagger swirling with Dark Energy.

The smell of burning flesh.

Laughter—cold, merciless.

"Now everyone will know what you are."

Quint woke up screaming.

Fin was there in seconds, bursting through the door.

"Quint! It's okay, you're safe—"

But Quint was sobbing, his small body shaking.

"I hurt someone," he gasped. "I hurt them. I saw it. I felt it."

Fin's chest tightened.

He sat on the bed and pulled Quint into his arms.

"It was just a dream," Fin said gently. "Just a bad dream."

"But it felt real," Quint cried. "Why would I dream about hurting people?"

Charlotte appeared in the doorway, her face pale.

She came to sit on the other side of the bed.

Fin looked at Quint, his heart breaking.

"I have nightmares too," Fin said gently. "Bad dreams about things that happened to me. Things that scared me."

Quint looked up at him, surprised. "You do?"

"Yes," Fin said. "And sometimes they're really scary. But they're just dreams. They don't control me. I get to choose what I do when I wake up. And so do you."

"But why do I dream about hurting people?" Quint whispered.

Fin's throat tightened.

He couldn't tell him the truth.

Not yet.

"Sometimes our minds show us things we don't understand," Fin said carefully. "Things that don't make sense. But they're not real. And they don't define who you are."

Charlotte reached out and took Quint's hand.

"The nightmares might come back," Fin said honestly. "But we'll be here. Every time. You're not alone."

Quint nodded, still trembling.

"Can I stay with you?" he asked quietly. "Just for tonight?"

Fin and Charlotte exchanged a glance.

"Of course," Charlotte said. "Come on."

They brought him to their cabin, and he curled up between them in the bed.

Within minutes, he was asleep again.

But Fin and Charlotte stayed awake, watching him.

"He's dreaming about Lamont's past," Fin said quietly. "About the things Lamont did."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "But... he has no memory. The Reliquary—"

"Transformed him, yes," Fin said. "Made him a child again. Gave him a clean slate. But the memories are still there. Buried. Coming out in his dreams."

He looked at her, fear in his eyes. "What if they keep coming? What if he starts to remember?"

Charlotte took his hands. "Then we help him through it. Just like you said. We remind him that he gets to choose who he is."

"It's starting," Fin said, his voice heavy. "The nightmares. The fragments of who he was. I thought... I hoped we'd have more time before this began."

"We'll get through it," Charlotte said firmly. "Together. One nightmare at a time."

Fin pulled her close, holding her tight.

"I hope we're strong enough," he whispered.

"We are," she said. "We have to be."

The next morning, Quint woke up slowly.

He blinked up at Fin and Charlotte, confused for a moment.

Then he remembered.

"I had a bad dream," he said quietly.

"I know," Fin said. "But you're okay now."

Quint nodded, then sat up. "Can we have breakfast?"

Charlotte smiled. "Of course. Let's go see what the Crew is making."

On deck, the morning sun was bright and warm.

The crew was already up, preparing for the day.

Quint ran over to Swing, who was polishing something shiny.

"What's that?" Quint asked.

"A compass!" Swing said proudly, holding up the silver compass. "Very shiny. Want to see?"

Quint nodded eagerly.

Swing placed it carefully in his small hands.

Quint turned it over, watching the sunlight catch on the polished silver.

Something flickered in the back of his mind—a feeling, not quite a memory.

Familiar.

But he couldn't place it.

He frowned slightly, trying to remember.

"You okay?" Swing asked.

Quint blinked, and the feeling was gone.

He smiled, distracted by how the compass gleamed. "It's so shiny!"

Swing grinned. "The shiniest! Swing found it a long time ago. Best treasure ever."

Quint laughed, turning the compass over and over, completely entranced.

The moment of recognition—if it had even been that—was forgotten.

Fin and Charlotte stood at the railing, watching.

Fin's chest tightened when he saw the compass.

Lamont's compass.

Now in Quint's hands.

Charlotte noticed his expression. "What is it?"

"That compass," Fin said quietly. "It was Lamont's. Swing stole it."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "Should we—"

"No," Fin said. "Let him have it. It's just a compass now. Just a shiny thing that makes him smile."

But his hand went unconsciously to the scar on his chest.

Some things, he knew, would always carry weight.

Even when transformed into something innocent.

"He seems okay," Charlotte said.

"For now," Fin said. "But the nightmares will come back."

"Then we'll be ready," Charlotte said.

She took his hand, and they stood there together, watching the little boy  laugh with the crew.

Their son.

It would take some getting used to.

But as Fin watched, the worry melted away, and for the moment it was a good day.

 

Later that afternoon, Fin and Charlotte sat on a crate near the bow, sharing a quiet moment.

Quint was with Emerson, learning how to coil a rope properly.

"Are we doing the right thing?" Fin asked quietly.

Charlotte looked at him. "Do you regret it?"

"No," Fin said immediately. "But I'm scared. Scared that I'm not enough. Scared that the nightmares will break him. Scared that I'll fail him."

Charlotte squeezed his hand. "You won't. We won't. Look at him, Fin. He's happy. He's safe. He's loved."

Fin watched Quint laugh as Emerson showed him the finished coil.

"Yeah," Fin said softly. "He is."

Charlotte leaned her head on his shoulder. "When should we get married?"

Fin smiled. "Soon. I want you to be my wife. I want us to be a family. All of us."

"We already are," Charlotte said. "But I want it too."

They sat there together, the sun warm on their faces, the sound of Quint's laughter carrying on the wind.

 

That evening, after Quint had gone to bed—this time in his own cabin, with a lamp left burning—Fin and Charlotte stood on deck under the stars.

"Come with me," he said softly.

He took her hand and led her to the ladder of the crow's nest.

"After you, M'Lady," Fin said gesturing towards the ladder.

Charlotte looked up at the tall mast, then smiled. "Up there?"

"Up there," Fin said.

They climbed up together, settling into the small space at the top.

The port was quiet below them, the day's chaos settled into peaceful stillness. The water lapped gently against the sides of the Ship.

Fin pulled Charlotte close, and they lay back together, looking up at the stars.

They laid there for a moment in  comfortable silence, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her.

The sky was endless above them—thousands of stars scattered across the darkness like diamonds.

"It's beautiful," Charlotte whispered.

"Yeah," Fin said. "It is. But ya know what's more beautiful?"

"What?" She asked.

"You are," he responded. 

She smiled and sighed happily. 

"I don't believe you," she said, "But thank you."

"I'm serious," Fin said, his voice soft and warm, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

Charlotte's hand rested on his chest, and the engagement ring on her finger caught the starlight.

Fin looked down at it, then smiled.

"Soon," he said softly. "Soon I'll be your husband, and you'll be my wife."

"I can't wait," Charlotte whispered. "Mrs. Charlotte Bollard."

Fin laughed softly. "It suits you."

"It does," she agreed, smiling.

She turned to look at him, her eyes bright with happiness.

"We're going to have a beautiful Life, Fin. You, me, and Quint. A real family."

"Yeah," Fin said, his voice thick with emotion. "We are."

They were lost in the depth of each other's gaze and drew closer 

They kissed, soft and lingering, the promise of forever between them.

When they pulled apart, Charlotte smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too," Fin said.

They turned back to the stars, holding each other close, the world narrowing to just the two of them and the endless sky above.

The future stretched out before them—bright, hopeful, and theirs.

 

Below deck, Quint slept peacefully.

For now, the nightmares stayed away.

But Fin and Charlotte knew they would return.

And when they did, they would be ready.

Together.

The Moonlight Wake rocked gently in the harbor, her silver hull gleaming in the moonlight.

The crew slept soundly, safe and free.

The Sea Witch's game was over.

Lamont was gone.

And a new chapter had begun.

For Captain Finian 'Silver Tide' Bollard, Charlotte- his fiancee, and their son Quint.

For the Crew of the Moonlight Wake.

A family forged in Mercy.

A future built on Hope.

And a Love that would weather any storm.

THE END

(To be continued in Silver Tide: Story 6)