Trial of the Sealorn : Let the Sea Judge Her

The water shifted. It wasn't very dramatic, but just enough to make people straighten up in their seats.

A set of tall doors opened on the left side of the arena. A man in layered temple robes, embroidered with silver thread, floated in, flanked by two guards. You could tell he was someone important.

He stopped a few feet from where I was standing.

He pressed two fingers lightly to the side of his throat, just below the gills. A flicker of light passed through the lines there — then spread upward like ink in water. It hovered for a moment — then vanished.

"I speak for the Temple," he said. "And for the Tide."

His voice rang through the arena without strain, clear as a bell. Loud enough to hush even the quietest murmurs.

No shell, no crystal or any tech. Just raw magic.

"The Trial of Sealorn now begins — the first in over a hundred years. The woman standing at the centre will be judged by the sacred relic: Sealorn. The outcome will reveal whether the same blood runs in her veins as the vanished divine race.

You've been summoned as witnesses — to see with your own eyes if she truly carries the power of all four realms: land, forest, sea, and heavens. The Arc Seer is present among us. The Lord Guardian watches, sent by the Tidefather to observe her divinity. Prince Dravion of the Second Crest is seated here as part of the royal family."

This made me scream in my head — what divinity are you even talking about? Nobody told me anything about this. Not the angel guy, not the court, not even Kaelen. A divine race? News to me.

Then my eyes drifted to the royal section.

Yep. It was him.

Orange-glowing runes. Sharp stare. That same merman who'd helped me and Kaelen during the hadalborn attack. He was the one who made sure we got somewhere safer after that mess.

So he was a prince? Brilliant. We really were doing the whole fairytale circuit now — a mysterious person saves you from danger, turns out to be actual royalty with a shiny crown and a moody jawline.

He was seated right in the centre — shoulders straight, face unreadable. In armour now. Fancier. Looked way more official. And less like someone I could just swim up to and ask questions.

I barely had time to wrap my head around that when I noticed the other one.

The guardian.

Not the one I met before. That one was calm. Gentle. Looked like he'd never even raised his voice before.

This one? Different.

Everything about him looked like it was designed to keep people at a distance.

He wore long white robes — straight to the feet, no frills, just silver and blue lining stitched so neat it looked hand-done. His hair was blond, not messy but not too styled either, and his face… well, if someone had told me he was plucked straight out of one of those painfully dramatic fantasy films they air back home, I'd believe it.

Sharp jawline. Model-level cheekbones. Eyes like he'd seen too much and decided not to care anymore.

And yeah — wings. Not shocking, since I'd already met an angel with them. But those looked soft, half-folded, more "friendly ghost mentor" vibes.

These?

Full-spread, pristine white feathers — not even fluttering in the current. Like the water didn't dare touch them. Probably wrapped in enough magic to survive a pressure storm. Still weird to see wings just existing down here like that.

He looked at me once. No expression, no nod, nothing.

Just a calculating stare that said: I know what you are. Or I will.

Before I could overthink whether that stare meant divine judgement or just constipation, someone cleared their throat — loudly.

A figure floated forward from the seat next to the guardian — slower, older, and wrapped in temple robes that looked like they'd seen more centuries than sea-foam. He carried a long staff embedded with beautiful blue-coloured crystals. His hair was tied back, streaked with white and deep teal, and his eyes — the kind that looked through you instead of at you. Like he was already dissecting your soul and writing a report about it. His fin tail was scaled in a teal green colour and had a few scars, like he had fought in some dangerous battle. That had to be the Arc Seer.

He raised one hand. Everyone stilled.

The water itself seemed to pause.

"The sea sees," he said, raising his staff, with a loud voice and the same magic as the merman from before who gave the introduction. "The tide knows. May the Father of the Deep cast his gaze on what's to come, and wash away all falsehood."

Everyone around the arena mimicked the gesture — hand over chest, fingers curled inward. Some even bowed their heads.

I half-did the same, hoping no one noticed I was guessing.

"We gather today to witness the truth," the Arc Seer added. "The girl named Elara has been summoned for the Sealorn Trial, a test held only when the tides themselves murmur of change.

Long ago, the divine race known as the Niraya vanished from existence — all of them killed by Vaelros, also known as the Leviathan King. Their blood was marked — not with ink or paint, but with a living sigil that bloomed only in their bloodline.

And not just any mark… but four different kinds. One from the land. One from the forest. One from the sea. One from the heavens above. But in our records, and from the knowledge of old elders, the Niraya people only carried two fragments of sigils representing divinity with one realm.

But this girl in front of us has all four of them — which has never been seen before. Her existence can either help us... or stir imbalance in all the realms and become dangerous.

The third-ranked Guardian of the Sea is here today with us to unveil the truth of Elara and the sigils she bears, and help us reach the Tidefather for heavenly guidance."

He raised both his hands, "In the name of the current that binds, and the tide that remembers — guide this trial, O Keeper of the Deep."

Then he shifted his head and looked towards me.

"The relic Sealorn will appear. It does not answer to words. It reacts to what is true. Only a few drops of blood is all that is needed. If the girl carries the mark of the Niraya, the relic will reveal it."

Then the ground in front of me began to shift like something cracked beneath. A sharp, grinding sound — like stone splitting underwater. Then, a panel slid open. From inside, something rose up. A thick base, like a carved pillar. And on top of it — Sealorn.

Flat, glass-like, with edges that looked like pearls fused with stone. Inside, symbols floated — not carved or etched, just moving on their own. Shifting like ink in water, changing shape before I could make sense of any of them.

I stared at the thing. It looked like it belonged in some cursed shipwreck museum.

Then Alyssira came forward, holding a shallow bowl made of stone and a curved dagger. "Just a small cut," she said.

The Arc Seer lifted his staff slightly. "Let us begin."

Then Alyssira gripped my hand and dragged the blade across my palm.

It stung — but not the way it should've. What jolted me was the colour.

Gold.

Thick and glowing.

I stared at it. Since when…?

Back home, I bled red. Not glowing honey from some divine tree.

She didn't react. Just let the blood drip into a stone bowl and floated straight towards the Sealorn.

She poured my blood on it.

And then—

"Run."

I looked around but no one was near me.

The voice was inside my head.

"He will find you."

My spine locked.

"Run. Run now. He's here—"

The whispers layered on top of each other. Male, female, screaming, whispering, crying — overlapping in a rising tide I couldn't escape.

I grabbed my ears. Like that would help.

"He will kill you. RUN—"

Something cracked.

Not outside — inside my head.

And everything went black.

✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧