Season One: Unity Tide
733 Words
Calla stared at the dress.
It shimmered like liquid starlight. Layers of sheer fabric floated around it like jellyfish tendrils, and embedded across the bodice were glowing pearls that pulsed softly, like they were alive.
She hadn't asked for it. She hadn't even been told.
Just found it waiting on her bed with a simple note written in Thalos's sharp script:
You'll wear this tonight. The Court expects you.
No please. No explanation. No choice.
She rolled her eyes so hard it hurt.
But still... she ran her fingers across the fabric.
The ballroom was carved into the heart of a reef palace. Hundreds of guests floated inside a massive sphere of magic, their movements weightless and hypnotic. Lights flickered across the ceiling like stars through water. Music haunting and beautiful echoed through the dome from instruments Calla didn't recognize.
She hovered just outside the entrance, dressed in the gown he chose, hair pulled back in delicate braids woven with tiny glowing shells.
"I feel like I'm about to drown in sparkle," she muttered under her breath.
"You wear it well."
She turned sharply.
Thalos stood beside her, watching the crowd, not her. He wore armor sculpted like waves and tide, dark and shining. No crown. No robe. Just quiet power that wrapped around him like pressure from the deep.
"You could've asked," she said.
"I could've."
"Do you always give orders like you're still at war?"
His eyes finally met hers. "This is a war, Calla. You just haven't seen it yet."
Before she could speak, he extended a hand.
"You're with me tonight."
It wasn't a question.
And for reasons she didn't understand, she took it.
The room shifted when they entered together.
Whispers rippled across the crowd like cold current. Heads turned. Nobles tilted their masks. Someone dropped a goblet.
Calla didn't miss the way Nerida froze at the edge of the floor, her eyes locked on Thalos's hand wrapped around Calla's.
She didn't speak. But she didn't need to.
Her glare said everything.
That was supposed to be me.
Thalos led Calla into a slow spiral across the glass floor. The water moved with them, weightless, graceful. She had never danced like this before. Never felt so seen and unseen all at once.
His hand rested on her back, firm but careful. His other hand held hers as if she might drift away.
"I thought gods didn't dance," she said softly.
"I don't," he said. "But for tonight, I'll make an exception."
"Why me?"
Thalos didn't answer right away. He turned her under his arm. When she came back into his chest, his voice was low.
"Because when you walk into a room, people look. They don't know what you are yet. And that makes you dangerous."
Her throat tightened.
"So I'm just a weapon now?"
His grip softened.
"No. But I've never met anyone the sea couldn't silence. Until you."
Calla's chest fluttered, and it wasn't from the dance.
For a moment, the music faded into the background. The ball disappeared. There was only his gaze and her heart beating a little too fast.
But then Nerida cut through the dancers like a storm, eyes locked on Thalos, dress trailing angry sparks of magic behind her.
She bowed deeply. Too deeply.
"My king," she said. "Your court is waiting. Unless your attention lies... elsewhere."
Thalos looked at her, then at Calla.
"I'm exactly where I want to be."
Calla didn't look away. Didn't shrink.
And Nerida's smile cracked.
That night, when the dancing ended and the lights dimmed, Calla found herself alone in the garden dome, her dress still glowing faintly like an afterthought of starlight.
Thalos appeared without sound.
"You surprised them," he said.
"I wasn't trying to."
"All the more reason they noticed."
She turned toward him. The silence stretched.
"Why did you bring me?"
His voice was quiet now. Almost human.
"Because I wanted to."
The glow of the ballroom still shimmered faintly on Calla's skin as she walked alone through the quiet palace halls. Her feet were bare, the delicate shoes long forgotten. The dress, once a masterpiece of light, now clung to her like sea mist, heavy with memory.
She should've felt victorious. She survived the court. She danced with a god. She stole the attention of the entire underwater kingdom.
But something still pulled at her chest like an undertow.
Why me?
- Writer
