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Chapter 3
Rader
After two long weeks riding various westerly currents through uninspiring stretches of open ocean, Rader arrived at last before the Aghata Trench — not to the usual glamor and pomp that greeted him, but to the quiet puzzlement of two mere Skaltressian Trenchguards, utterly dumbstruck by his arrival.
What a clever Tide, pretending not to have known of my coming.
He loomed over the Trenchguards, the steady swish of his obsidian-black tail keeping him balanced and poised amidst the ocean’s gentle morning sway. Disbelief kept them frozen before him, their mouths agape.
“Hm,” was all he said, affecting an uninterested tone.
They remembered their places, then, practically throwing themselves into deep bows.
Rader looked past them with practiced disdain, his gold-flecked blue eyes flaring with a fierce glow, like small white suns. He knew his role. He played it masterfully.
The younger of the two Trenchguards— a boy with long, pleated tentacles that glowed a rich blue—stole a curious glance across Rader’s body, then back down to the trench’s vanishing blackness. He was quick, yes. Both daring and demure in equal measure. But Rader was quicker, spotting precisely what he had most longed for throughout his long journey: a comely face, blushing.
The Emperion grinned, flitting his eyes once more over the boy, drinking in all his most alluring features: toned arms, broad shoulders, and that long, slender tail.
A clever Tide, indeed. For how I do so adore blue…
“Good morning,” he said.
“Favored,” the Trenchguards said as one. Then, the older of the two, laden with hundreds of tentacles in all varying shades of red, continued, stammering, “I–it is a tremendous honor that we may be at your service, Favored. Please, whatever you need, your will is our purpose.”
She had raised her head to speak. Rader met her eyes and she averted her gaze once more. Silent and waiting.
He let them wait, turning his attention instead to the trench itself.
Like a black vein without end, it stretched in both directions, so wide he could barely glimpse the opposite side. Yet it was the red that most held his attention. Those long, spindly tendrils rooted to the trench’s walls and spilling past its craggy lips like the exposed, bloody innards of a festering beast. He knew it was only a rare algae that fed on the sounds that would otherwise grow deafening at greater depths. Still, he couldn’t shake his discomfiting awe.
I’ve never known life to look so much like a dying thing.
He returned his attention to the cowering Skaltressians, his gaze settling once more on the blue boy.
“You,” Rader said, and the young Trenchguard lifted his head. “Escort me to the palace.”
Wide eyes and a twitch of the mouth. “M–me?”
Rader flared the white glow of his eyes. Less menacing, more agitated.
And all for show.
Yet the blue boy must have seen only menace. He shot a terrified glance at his partner.
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Never keep a Favored waiting.”
“Isn’t that nice,” Rader said, a calculated edge of annoyance to his tone. “At least one of you was taught proper protocol.”
To be Emperion was to be unquestionable command. And Rader couldn’t change what he was. Or what was expected of him.
“I, uh — ”
“The palace,” Rader repeated. “Now.”
“Of course.” The blue boy spun, his tentacles splaying like a whirlpool as he did. He started north, along the trench’s eastern cliff, a flurry of bubbles left in his wake.
Amused, Rader watched him for a moment — admiring the view.
Then he kicked his tail and left, sparing not even a parting glance for the red Trenchguard.
He caught up to the blue boy with effortless ease, pressed in close, and followed.
The journey was quick. They swam along the trench until it split into two diverging branches. It was there, carved into the underside of the sharp-pointed plateau, where Rader spotted the Skaltressian Palace. From their distance, it appeared like a spiraled-bruise, nestled amidst the viscera-red algae growing along the wall, and encased within walls of pure diamond. Rays from the rising red and gold suns speared through the water, casting rainbow glints from the diamond’s polished edges.
Impenetrable diamond at the front; solid rock at the back. An excellent defensive position.
Despite swimming so near the suns-warmed surface, a subtle chill had begun to envelop Rader, as if the trench itself was siphoning off his warmth. He dug through his travel satchel and pulled out the cloak he had purchased in Parel—the Emperion capitol—before departing on this technically “unauthorized” clan visit. Not that anyone would dare question an Emperion.
The cloak emitted a soft glow and a pleasing warmth as he slid into it. Which made sense.
It was woven from Skaltressian tentacles, all plucked and shredded—made thread thin. Lifelight flowed through every strand. Warmth and time, taken from thralls, and repurposed as comfort and luxury for whoever could pay the price. Whoever was willing to.
He considered this for a moment, the reality he had never really considered. Had never needed to.
Movement drew his attention, then, as they neared the palace; he was happy to let it.
The trench rippled with life, here. Skaltressian Reeflords and Reefesses rustled about, all decorated in their cascading profusions of colorful tentacles, their bodies aglitter with Clawfer-forged jewels: necklaces and earrings of pearls, armlets of gold or silver.
Their attendants trailed in tow, at a distance. Most were pallid and lifeless in the eyes, as phantoms are. In place of the pearls, the gold and silver of their masters, they wore strings of shells around their necks, kelp-twine bracelets around their wrists.
A starker difference than most of the other clans Rader’s assignments have taken him to.
He was not here, though, to comment or pass judgment, but to satisfy his own curiosity. Back in Parel, he had found a scroll slipped into his sleeping-anemone—a bold breach of his private chambers. Or a foolish one. He might have been furious, had he not been so impressed.
Rader chuckled to himself, recalling scroll’s message:
Forgive me, Favored, my disturbing you,
but a most disastrous current descends upon our home.
I beseech you to come to the Aghata Trench,
for we are in dire need of that which only you can offer.
More, I dare not say — Eyes are watching…
We are unworthy, yes, as we are in need.
Please, Favored.
Come.
‘Come,’ written on its own line — practically a command… Amusement tugged at the corner of his lips. Typical, gutsy Tides.
Indeed, he had his suspicions of who had sent the scroll, but experience had taught him well that surprises were the way of life. Best to stay his assumptions, keep his eyes and ears sharp. Besides, it wasn’t so much the who that had piqued his intrigue, but the why.
He set his eyes on the Skaltressian Palace, looming as he approached. Murmurs and gasps surrounded him, his mere presence a spectacle. Rarer than rare were Emperions beyond the immense, white marble walls of their capitol. Rarer still was the Emperion who travelled without a vast retinue stringing along after them. Like fish shit.
Rader arrived before an archway carved from the diamond encasing the palace. A yellow Trenchguard raised her hand, signaling him to halt.
“Welcome, Favored,” she said, “to the Skaltressian Palace. We… were not expecting you.” She bowed, and the other dozen or so Trenchguards followed suit.
“I can see that.”
A subtle disturbance in the water behind him. Rader glanced over his shoulder and spotted the blue boy, his hands and tail trembling. When the boy realized Rader was watching him, he hastily crossed his arms over his shell-armored chest and forced his tail steady and straight.
Poor kid is wound up tighter than a Buroden Scenter’s braid.
Rader offered what he hoped was a placating smile, though it seemed to have little effect.
“How impressive,” came a weathered voice—one Rader recognized even before turning back to face the speaker. “To approach my family’s home without drawing the attention of our Eyes.”
“Indeed, Tideress Fahvia,” he said. “I am.”
A creation long past her expiration, cloaked in a flowing shawl of emerald tentacles, hers was the presence of a dying tempest. Proud and dignified—despite the crack and pop of her every stiff movement. Yet those inky-white eyes still held that same blazing wit and warmth Rader recalled from all their few interactions over the years.
She bowed, or tried to. He didn’t mind, and offered a respectful nod of his own. A being such as her —lifelight dimming — was due a tender amendment in expected propriety.
Something, though, was not quite right.
“Someone’s missing,” he said, glancing past her.
The Tideress nodded.
“My apologies, Favored. My brother—”
“Is not who I was referring to.”
The Tideress looked long into Rader’s eyes.
“Cora will join us when it is time.”
What are you playing at, Tideress? That Twanderian has practically become your eyes.
“I see,” he said. “It’s just… I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you without your shadow. Not in recent years, at least.”
“Assistant,” the Tideress politely corrected.
Rader shrugged.
“Come,” she said, turning towards the palace. Then, as if catching herself, “If it pleases you, Favored. I would have the honor of showing you to your chambers.”
Rader arched his brow. “I never said I was intending to stay.”
The Tideress had already kicked off towards the palace. “You did not.”
He laughed.
Well, with the who out of the way, I supposed only her why remains. You’re growing lax, Tideress, in your dimming years…
Rader started after her, then stopped right as he entered the palace waters.
“You will join me,” he said over his shoulder to the blue boy. His tone ensured no argument from the Trenchguards, nor refusal from the boy. “This should be quite the education for you.”
He winked.
The bulge in the boy’s throat bobbed, yet he followed.
Rader knew the boy’s kind: a low-ranking Shocker—young, yes, though likely already trained to kill. And undoubtedly rarely ever permitted such access to the palace without a summons. He would learn much, indeed.
Especially once the theatrics are through…
Thank you so much for reading the first three chapters!
If you like what you’ve experienced so far, check out the full book on Amazon here.
Joshua Stavick 
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