Aerynth

Chapter Two:The Girl from the Deep.

Ryan’s world was darkness.

No sound. No light. Only pressure.

Then… a breath.

Sharp. Ripping into his lungs like broken glass. Salt water spilled from his mouth, followed by a hoarse, choking gasp. He was lying face-up on jagged rock, soaked to the bone, shivering as cold wind licked his skin. The stars above swam in his blurred vision like distant fireflies.

He wasn’t dead. He was… back on the surface.

But how?

He remembered the shimmer in the trench. The explosion of light. A figure in the water. Eyes that glowed like moonfire.

And then—nothing.

His fingertips twitched.

The ground was real. The wind was real.

But the moment in the trench… was that real too?

He sat up slowly, every muscle in his body aching like he’d gone twelve rounds with the ocean itself. His oxygen tank was gone. His scanner broken. His earpiece buzzing with static. And yet… etched into the skin of his forearm was a faint red mark. Circular. Like a burned-in seal.

It pulsed faintly.

Ryan stared at it.

“What the hell…”

From the shadows nearby, something shifted.

He turned.

And saw her.

Lira.

Wrapped in seaweed and the remnants of her royal mantle, she crouched by a rock outcrop, hair wet and glimmering silver under the starlight. Her skin was pale but glowing faintly, marked with fine coral-like lines. Her neck tensed as if struggling with the air — her internal system still adapting to the surface.

They locked eyes.

For a second, time stopped.

Then Ryan reached instinctively for his pocket — not for a weapon, but his waterproof notepad.

Lira flinched back.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said hoarsely, raising both hands. “I just… I just want to know who you are.”

She said nothing. Her eyes darted from his face to the strange seal on his arm — the same mark now burned faintly into her shoulder. Something had bonded them when the gate exploded. Some ancient force neither fully understood.

Ryan noticed her breathing — heavy, uncertain. She pressed a hand to her chest like it hurt.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. Accented. Ethereal.

“Neither are you,” Ryan replied.

Lira blinked at that.

“I was forced to run,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the ocean. “They… They would’ve taken me. Used me to open the second gate.”

“Who?” Ryan asked. “The people who destroyed that place?”

Lira nodded slowly. “They call themselves the Hollow Deep. They want the surface. Not to understand it. To conquer it.”

She took a few tentative steps toward him. Her feet, still half-adapted to aquatic movement, left shimmering trails on the rock.

“You’re… human,” she said. “But you touched the seal.”

“My father was the first to find it,” Ryan said. “He disappeared. I think they… I think he found you.”

Lira looked down. “Then he’s probably gone. Like the others.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then: a sharp, low mechanical hum from deep beneath the ocean.

Ryan froze. “What was that?”

Lira’s eyes widened. “They’re tracing the surge. We don’t have long.”

BENEATH THE WAVES — THE HOLLOW DEEP

Far below, in the ruins of Aerynth, the rebels stood in a temple of shattered coral and flickering energy.

A dark figure, draped in living armor made from eelbone and tech-sinew, stared into a rotating sphere of water-light — a scrying orb, one of the last remaining devices stolen from the ancient line of gatekeepers.

The figure clenched his fist.

“There,” he growled, pointing to two flickers on the map.

“She made contact.”

A pale lieutenant stepped forward. “But the barrier was intact. How?”

The leader’s eyes gleamed with violet fire. “Her blood opened the path, but the gate recoiled. It rejected her flight. That means… the Seal is waking. It chose a host.”

The lieutenant paled. “You mean… a Surfaceborn?”

The leader grinned.

“Send the Trenchborn scouts. They’re small enough to squeeze through the gate’s fractures. Track them. Bring her back alive.”

He paused. “The boy… kill him.”

SURFACE — EARLY MORNING

The horizon glowed faintly with the first touches of dawn.

Ryan and Lira had found shelter in a nearby tide cave, a hollow pocket in the stone where the surf didn’t reach. Ryan had pulled an emergency thermal blanket from a nearby locker box on the beach. Lira refused it at first, but after a sharp gust of cold wind, she relented.

“You’re still not breathing right,” Ryan said quietly.

Lira gave him a sideways look. “I’m not made for this air. I can adapt, but not for long.”

He nodded, noting the faint shimmer of her skin and the way her body reacted with short, shallow breaths. Something about the air made her look both powerful and vulnerable.

“You saved me,” Ryan said after a pause. “You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” she replied. “I did it because no one deserves to die like that.”

Ryan smirked. “I’ll take it.”

A long beat passed.

Then Lira spoke, softer this time. “That mark… the one on your arm. It means the gate recognized you. That only happens to chosen bearers. It… binds you.”

Ryan stared at the seal. “So… what, I’m part of your world now?”

“No,” Lira said, voice hollow. “Our world is dying. You're part of what comes next.”

TO BE CONTINUED