Thalric Deepcurrent's Arc

Chapter 3 of 11

Thalric stopped swimming when he saw the figure slumped against the trench wall. The merman's eyes barely glowed — twin embers about to go dark. Four arms hung limp at his sides, matching Thalric's own. The stranger's chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. Thalric moved closer, two hands raised to show he meant no harm. The dying merman's fingers twitched, reaching for something at his waist. A belt buckle caught what little light remained — bronze metal carved with a clan crest Thalric hadn't seen since his grandmother traced it in the sand when he was young. The same spiral pattern. The same six-pointed star at the center. "You're... Deepcurrent," the stranger whispered, blood leaking from his mouth in dark threads. He pressed a rolled parchment into Thalric's hand. "Map. Real one. Not the council's lies." Thalric unrolled it with shaking fingers. The landmarks didn't match the documents he carried. The Tidecrown's location was marked three trenches east, not in the northern shelf where the council records claimed. The stranger coughed, his glow fading to nothing. "They moved it. Twice. Wanted us... searching forever." His hand fell away from the belt. Thalric caught him as he went limp, the last of their shared bloodline slipping away in his arms. He held the body for a long moment, then carefully removed the belt and fastened it over his own waist. The crest pressed cold against his side. He had proof now — not just of conspiracy, but of the true path. The clock was still ticking, but at least he knew which direction to run.