Never underestimate the goddess of the sea.
Almorran magic stirred.
On the shore of the Eastern Network coast, where mellow beaches collided with tumultuous waves, waited Magnolia castle. The unfurling of white stone, so like a magnolia petal itself, caught Prana’s gaze.
The goddess of the sea frowned.
“How,” she murmured, low and quiet, “is it possible?”
Her dark, slanted eyes, set in a wide face, with wet black hair that dropped all the way to her waist, bobbed just above the top of the water. The ocean current formed a chair around her, keeping her steady. It would have lifted her up to see better, but she hadn’t commanded such a thing. The sea read her thoughts, moving to her silent will.
At least it still listened to her.
Almorran magic rose in her thoughts again. A mistake, surely. Her oldest, most beloved magic system couldn’t be back in the land. Not now.
Yet . . . she hadn’t made a mistake.
Without a doubt, Almorran magic moved on Alkarran shores again—right here. In Magnolia castle, to be clear. She would know. The magic system belonged to her. Her favorite magic because of its deep consequences. In its long slumber over the past centuries, she had missed it.
Now, she stood to lose everything.