Chapter 1 – The Compass Spins West

Chapter 1 – The Compass Spins West

By LP — Crimson Vortex, Cosmic Vortex… or just Vortex.

The sea did not whisper.

It growled.

The waves rippled with an energy that was more than mere motion—each current pulsed with life. In this world, the ocean was not just water. It was force. Will. Mood.

And today, it was in a mood to flip a boat.

"WAHHHH—!"

Splash!

A boy hit the water face-first. His small sailboat, no bigger than a storage closet with ambition, rocked to one side before resettling with a bounce. The boy flailed, surfaced, and coughed up half the sea like it owed him money.

"Okay! That one's on me!" he shouted, grabbing the side of the boat. "I shouldn't have yelled 'I dare you' at the waves."

His name was Kazuki Arkane. Seventeen. Tall-ish, lean, messy black hair. Scar over his nose. Zero plan. One goal.

To become a Lord—not of a country, but of the sea.

More specifically, to become a Wraith Lord, a title whispered across taverns, carved into ancient shipwrecks, and shouted from the mouths of madmen. It meant freedom. Fear. Fame.

It meant proving yourself worthy to something much older than man: the Pulse.

Kazuki dragged himself back aboard, soaked and grinning. His Flux Compass—a small crystalline orb embedded in metal—rattled in his hand, its needle spinning like a drunk trying to find north.

"Don't worry, buddy," he told it. "We're almost there."

He pointed to the horizon, where petals danced across the waves. An island loomed in the mist, its cliffs rising in spirals and trees glowing faintly pink.

Driftbloom Island.

Pulse Level 2.

Weird, but manageable.

The dock greeted him with a gentle knock as his boat slid into place. Kazuki stepped off barefoot, the Flux Compass still whirling in his hand.

Each island in the world gave off a Pulse—a living frequency that affected weather, creatures, and even the terrain. Some islands twisted space. Others bent time. Most just tried to kill you in creative ways.

Navigating these zones required a Flux Compass. Not maps. Not luck. And definitely not brains. Which was fine. Kazuki only had two of the three.

Driftbloom was peaceful at first glance. Market stalls clattered with wind chimes and jellyfruit. Locals wandered with baskets. Buildings leaned into the hills, all painted soft purples and sea-blues. The air smelled like salt and sugar.

Kazuki stretched, arms wide.

"Ahhh. This place doesn't scream death. That's a win."

Then a girl ran into him and tackled him into the dirt.

Thud!

Scrolls, books, and ink pens flew everywhere.

"Ow—hey! What the heck?!"

"You were in the way!" came the irritated reply.

Kazuki blinked. A girl about his age sat half on top of him, hair tousled, eyes fierce. She wore a half-academic, half-practical outfit, as if she'd left a library and punched someone on the way out.

"Uh… hi," he said. "Was this your idea of a welcome committee?"

She glared. "Was that your idea of standing still?!"

"You literally ran into me!"

"Exactly!"

Kazuki stared at her, then pointed a dramatic finger. "I knew it! You're one of those people who blames the floor for tripping!"

She huffed, stood up, and began collecting her scattered papers. Kazuki remained on the ground, processing the cosmic unfairness of it all.

Finally, she snapped, "Are you going to help or lie there like a damp sea sponge?"

He stood. "Kazuki Arkane. Wraith. Traveler. Victim of high-speed scholar collisions."

The girl blinked. "Lina."

"Lina what?"

"None of your business."

"…Cool."

The bakery's awning offered shade and the smell of fresh tart crust. Kazuki sat with a steaming slice of Pulseberry pie, licking sugar from his fingers.

Lina sipped tea across from him. She hadn't left. He wasn't sure if she wanted company or just needed to lecture someone.

"You said you're a Wraith?" she asked, finally.

"Yep. Fresh out of nowhere. On a mission."

"A mission to what? Annoy the sea into giving you treasure?"

"Not treasure. Recognition. I'm gonna be a Lord."

She snorted. "You? A Lord? You don't even wear shoes."

"Shoes are a social construct."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You are exhausting."

He leaned back, hands behind his head. "Hey, you're still here."

Before she could retort, a mug shattered on the ground nearby.

"Oi. What's this? A romantic tea party? Without us?"

They turned. Three men approached, each bearing a tattoo: a skeletal wave curling over a shattered moon.

Rave Sark Pirates. Pulse Raiders. Thugs. Loudmouths.

The leader cracked his knuckles. "Heard there was a Wraith around. Thought we'd say hi."

Kazuki stood, stretching his shoulders. "Hi."

"You got guts, kid. That or no sense."

"Bit of both, actually."

Lina leaned over to whisper, "They're dangerous."

Kazuki cracked his neck. "Good. I was getting bored."

The first pirate lunged.

Kazuki ducked low, sweeping his leg in a circular arc. A flash of silver shimmered on his arms—dragon-scale patterns lit with faint energy. Not real scales. Just a memory of something deeper inside him.

His Primal—a core power every strong Wraith eventually awakened—had begun to stir months ago. His was dragon-based. Raw. Unrefined. Still prone to coughing smoke when he sneezed.

A punch caught the second pirate in the gut. A subtle ripple burst from Kazuki's fist—a spark of Pulse Aura, the lowest form of energy manipulation. It didn't knock the pirate out, but it did lift him just enough to flip into a food cart.

The third man hesitated. Kazuki smiled.

"C'mon. Third time's the charm."

The man turned and ran.

Later, the bakery repaired and the tension gone, Kazuki stood by the cliffside, watching the sun fall into the sea. The Flux Compass in his hand glowed softly, its needle no longer spinning—pointing firmly west.

Somewhere out there, the seas writhed with secrets. Forgotten ruins. Lost Wraith Lords. Leviathans.

And beyond all of that… the Empty Throne.

A voice came to him—not from the sea, but from memory.

"You can't tame the ocean, Kazuki," his grandfather had said. "But you can challenge it."

Kazuki grinned.

"Challenge accepted."