Tides Of Yesterday

Chapter 4: Shadows Beneath the Surface

The sun had barely risen when Elara stood at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the restless sea. The waves crashed with a furious rhythm, like a heartbeat echoing the turmoil inside her. She clenched the silver shards in her hand, feeling their cold pulse as if they carried the weight of every promise and every betrayal buried beneath the tides.

Kael approached silently, the morning light catching on the steel of his sword. “You fought well last night,” he said quietly, eyes scanning the horizon. “But Silas is just the beginning.”

Elara didn’t answer. Her mind replayed the cavern’s darkness, the sharp scent of salt and danger, and Silas’s storm-gray eyes—haunted but unyielding. “There’s something he didn’t tell us,” she finally whispered. “Something he’s hiding.”

Mara appeared beside them, her presence a quiet anchor. “He’s guarding more than the Undertow’s heart. The real danger lies deeper—beneath the surface, in the ruins the tide has swallowed.”

Elara’s stomach tightened. The ruins. Her grandmother’s stories had always spoken of a lost city beneath the waves—Atlion, a place where magic and mortal worlds had once collided. A place of power. A place where the silver oath had been forged—and broken.

“The shards are keys,” Mara said, her voice low and urgent. “Keys to Atlion. If we don’t reach it first, Silas will use that power to tear the world apart.”

Kael sheathed his sword. “Then we find Atlion. Before the tide drags us all under.”

They set out at dawn, journeying along the rocky coast toward a hidden cove known only to those bound by the ancient oath. The path was treacherous—jagged stones, crashing waves, and shadows that seemed to whisper warnings.

As they reached the cove, Elara felt a sudden chill, like the breath of something ancient and watching. She looked down into the crystal-clear water and saw not only her reflection but faint, shimmering shapes below—ruins etched with glowing runes.

Suddenly, the water rippled violently, and from the depths rose a figure—half-man, half-shadow, eyes burning like coals.

“Guardian of Atlion,” Mara whispered. “He tests those who seek the city.”

The figure’s voice was like the ocean’s roar. “Why do you come, bearer of the silver shards?”

Elara stepped forward, heart pounding but voice steady. “To honor the oath. To prevent destruction. To save the tides and those who live by them.”

The guardian’s eyes narrowed. “Words are easy. Actions will prove your worth.”

With a wave of his hand, the water parted, revealing a sunken gateway glowing with ancient light. “Enter, if you dare. But know this—Atlion’s secrets are not without sacrifice.”

Elara glanced at Kael and Mara, seeing the same determination mirrored in their eyes. Together, they dove into the depths.

The water closed above them like a silent tomb as they descended into the forgotten city. Pillars adorned with silver carvings stretched into darkness, corridors echoed with the whispers of the past, and shadows moved just beyond sight.

They reached the heart of Atlion—a grand chamber where a pedestal held a pulsating orb, radiating immense power. Elara’s shards resonated in response, their glow intensifying.

Before she could reach the orb, a sudden tremor shook the chamber. From the shadows emerged Silas, his expression twisted with fury and desperation.

“You think you can steal what’s mine?” he snarled. “Atlion’s power belongs to the tidebreaker.”

Kael drew his sword, stepping protectively in front of Elara. “We won’t let you destroy everything we cherish.”

The chamber erupted into chaos—magic and steel clashed, light and shadow battling in a dance as old as time. Elara’s core struggle boiled to the surface: the oath she had inherited demanded sacrifice, but the cost was becoming terrifyingly clear.

In the midst of the fight, the orb shattered—sending a shockwave that threw them all back. When the dust settled, Elara found herself alone, the chamber eerily silent.

A chilling realization dawned—Silas was gone, but so was Kael. And the shards had fractured, their power leaking into the very foundations of Atlion.

From the darkness, a voice echoed—a whisper that was both promise and threat:

“The tide is turning, Elara. Choose wisely, or be consumed.”

As she struggled to her feet, heart pounding and breath shallow, she knew this was no longer just a fight for survival. It was a battle for her soul, for the legacy of the silver oath—and for the fate of all who depended on the tides.

The waters o

utside roared louder, the storm of destiny gathering.