POV: Beth
Night fell like a curtain of ink.
No stars. No moon. Only black water stretching endless in all directions. It scared me.
I remember being soft and fragile, a noble doll that was supposed to become a princess and ended up being a runaway no one, a small, frightened nothing. I look back at myself and… don’t recognize me.
Oh, I used to be so… naive.
But naive was a good thing. It came with morals, with trust, with positive outlook on my future—dreams and all. Now all I have is stone cold spirit that can’t be broken just because it was already broken too many times.
Perhaps I am more of a pirate than I’d like to admit.
Crew slept uneasily, weapons by pillows, some muttering in nightmares. Alaric paced deck like caged lion. I stood alone at bow, unable to calm heartbeat or silence memory of sirens dying at my command.
I lifted my hand.
Ocean lifted too—tiny ripple rising to mirror my fingers.
It scared me. It thrilled me. It felt like truth.
Wind stopped. Not slowed—stopped. The world paused. Then she appeared.
Mist coiled above waves, swirling like hands weaving silk. A shape formed—tall, regal, luminous with cold pale fire.
Hair floated like black water. Dress stitched of shattered pearl. Eyes empty as drowned stars.
The Ghost Queen. Morwenna.
Pirate legend. Ocean widow. Sovereign of death-at-sea.
My throat closed. “You…”
Her voice was tide itself—thunder under whisper. “Daughter of the Drowned King.”
Cold rolled through me. The mark on my wrist burned like fresh branded iron.
Behind me, Alaric turned sharply, hand on sword. “Beth— step back.”
Morwenna didn’t even look at him. He didn’t exist to her.
“Your blood calls storms. Your voice commands death.” Her gaze pierced me. “Do you accept what you are?”
My voice trembled. “I don’t know what I am.”
“You will.” She glided closer, feet not touching wood or water. “Your father’s name is carved on abyssal throne. His shadow still rules the drowned. All seas remember him.”
My pulse hammered.
“My father… was he a pirate king?”
Morwenna tilted her head. Not yes. Not no. Something more.
“He was the outlaw all kings feared. The tidebreaker. The Leviathan-Brother.”
A chill rooted into bone. Alaric’s breath hissed sharp behind me—shock raw.
Morwenna raised translucent hand. The ocean split like parted curtains beneath us, revealing swirling maelstrom spiraling into blackness.
At bottom glinted bone-white gate, ribs of colossal creature curved like cathedral doors.
Leviathan’s Gate.
“Your inheritance lies below,” Morwenna said. “But it demands blood. Storm Bride’s blood.”
My stomach knotted. “Mine?”
“A king’s daughter must bleed to open king’s tomb.”
Alaric stepped between us fast. “She’s not bleeding for anyone.”
Morwenna’s gaze flicked to him—cold, amused, cruel. “You are loud for a man drowning in his own pride.”
He bristled. “Touch her and—”
“You will do nothing.” Her voice drowned his. Literally. Sound died in his throat, stolen by water.
He grabbed sword—metal rusted black instantly. He swore, stunned.
Morwenna’s focus returned to me—icy, reverent.
“Come, child. Claim the sword that binds sea monsters and kingdoms.”
Wind roared violently out of nowhere. Waves towered around us, forming walls. Crew screamed. Lanterns shattered. Deck pitched like a bucking beast.
But Morwenna remained still—center of storm.
My blood vibrated to rhythm of ocean. Power surged under skin—painful, hungry.
If I step forward—I accept destiny.
If I step back—I remain shackled to fear, to past, to weakness.
Alaric grabbed me—voice raw with terror. “Beth. Don’t.”
Morwenna extended hand like offering crown of drowning gods.
My pulse thundered in ears:
Daughter of the Drowned King. Storm Bride. Leviathan-blood. Sea will kneel to you. I reached toward her—
And the sea answered. Water rose beneath my feet like staircase made of living tide, lifting me toward her.
Alaric shouted—muffled, distant. Crew reached but waves slammed them back. I stood halfway between life I knew and abyss below.
Morwenna smiled—beautiful and horrifying. A queen of corpses and storms.
“Soon,” she whispered. “The gate will open.”
Then she dissolved into spray.
Storm vanished like blown candle.
Silence crushed deck.
All eyes turned to me—not awe now, but worship mixed with terror.
I stood shaking, salt dripping from lashes like tears that weren’t tears.
Alaric stared as if I were stranger. “Beth…”
I didn’t know what I was becoming.
But destiny was no longer knocking.
It was dragging me down to the Abyss.