The Descent
Saanvi's scream was swallowed by the abyss.
She fell for what felt like minutes, wind tearing at her skin and hair, her arms flailing for something—anything—to hold onto. The green glow of the upper chamber faded rapidly, consumed by an inky darkness that grew colder with every heartbeat. Her pendant—a charm shaped like a serpent's fang—flared for an instant, reacting to the surge of ancient energy around her.
Then—impact.
Her back slammed into something soft yet dense, like silt or ancient moss. The air was thick and warm, saturated with moisture. The world around her pulsed with dim blue bioluminescence—vines clinging to pillars, glowing fungi across the walls, and ripples in shallow pools that whispered in a tongue she could not understand.
She groaned, coughing as she sat up, blood in her mouth. Her hand instinctively went to her satchel, checking the tools she still had: a collapsible lantern, a shard compass, two vials of fire-oil, and a knife Veyan had given her months ago—etched with a prayer from the Eastern Isles.
The moment she ignited the lantern, shadows fled the walls like insects scurrying from flame. Saanvi stood in a colossal underground garden—no, graveyard. Bones, armor fragments, weapons… hundreds, perhaps thousands of corpses littered the edges of the chamber. Some human. Others… far from it.
"This is not just a place beneath the pyramid," she thought. "It's a sanctum. A forgotten chamber of the old war."
Echoes of the Past
Saanvi's lantern flickered. Not from fuel—but from presence.
A voice curled through the air, serpentine and cold.
"A child of light… fallen into the Maw."
Saanvi spun around, knife raised. "Show yourself!"
"We are already shown. You simply do not yet see."
From the far corner of the chamber, a figure emerged—not walking, but gliding. Clad in black ceremonial robes made of kelp-like fabric, its face was obscured by a mask shaped like a spiral shell. Its hands, too thin to be human, held a staff that hummed in tune with the pyramid's pulse.
"You are the third in two centuries to awaken this place. The others were consumed."
Saanvi took a cautious step back. "Who… what are you?"
"I am but a Watcher. Bound to the Depths. A fragment of the old covenant. I answer the call of the Heartstone. And you, bearer of the fang… are bound to it now."
Her eyes darted down to her pendant—the serpent fang pulsed with pale light, the same glow seeping from the walls of the pyramid. The Watcher seemed to notice.
"Ah… you carry her mark. The Flame-Sworn Queen. The Daughter of the Deep Flame."
Saanvi's heart pounded. "You mean… Visha?"
"That name will burn bright in future tides, yes. But for now… she slumbers. And you must decide if you will wake what should remain buried."
The Cradle of Leviathans
The Watcher turned, gliding further into the depths. Against all logic, Saanvi followed.
They passed through stone gates inscribed with ancient Vikrama glyphs. Beyond them lay a colossal chamber. A shrine. Suspended in the center by chains of pure light was a massive cocoon—a Leviathan Egg, easily the size of a ship. The light around it pulsed like a heartbeat. Beneath it, the water shimmered with an unnatural energy—Arhatra, but twisted and primal.
Saanvi's breath caught. She had studied myths, read of fallen empires, watched the skies for signs—but nothing could have prepared her for this.
"This is the cradle of the Abyssborn," said the Watcher. "When the Sovereigns sealed the Depths, they buried their sins beneath the waves. But sins do not rot. They grow teeth."
Saanvi stepped closer. The air was thick, vibrating with a hum only her bones could hear.
"He will awaken it," said the Watcher. "The Tideborn. Your captain. His path leads here. But the price is everything."
Her blood ran cold. "What price?"
"The one who awakens the Heart will have to sever what binds them to the shore. He must become storm and silence. Death and dawn. Will he be ready to pay it?"
Saanvi thought of Veyan—his fury, his burden, the weight he carried like chains. He was strong. But he was human. And the pyramid was not.
Awakening
Suddenly, the egg began to pulse. The light around it intensified—then cracked.
Saanvi took a step back as the chains binding the cocoon strained, the chamber rumbling with ancient rage. Cracks split across the cocoon's surface. From within, she heard a cry—a newborn scream that shattered the stillness.
Then, silence.
The Watcher turned to her.
"Go. The Heartstone sings. Your captain approaches. The pyramid has chosen its champion… but also its price."
With a wave of its staff, a staircase of bone and stone unraveled from the ceiling like a bridge. Saanvi didn't hesitate. She began to ascend, heart pounding, lantern flickering.
Behind her, the egg pulsed again.
Reunion at the Maw
As Saanvi climbed, the voices returned—distant shouts, familiar echoes. Kai's voice first, then Veyan's. She called out.
Their lights appeared from above, their silhouettes peering over the edge of a newly-formed opening.
"Saanvi!" Kai shouted, reaching down. "Grab my hand!"
She did. He pulled her up with a grunt, his face twisted with worry and relief. Veyan was silent, his eyes locked on hers—not with anger, but with a quiet intensity.
"You're alive," he whispered.
"I found something," she said breathlessly. "Something that changes everything."
She held up the pendant. It glowed with eerie warmth. "The Leviathans. The Depths. The pyramid—it's all connected to the Arhatra flow. And to you."
Veyan didn't speak. He just stared into the darkness behind her, where the egg still pulsed unseen.
Kai glanced between them. "We need to leave this place."
Veyan's eyes narrowed. "No. We go deeper."
Saanvi looked at him in disbelief. "Did you hear what I just said? That thing is waking. The Watcher said you'd have to pay a price—"
"I already have," Veyan said. "I lost everything. If this pyramid wants me, it's going to learn I don't kneel."
The chamber began to quake again, the walls shedding centuries of dust as distant roars echoed upward.
Saanvi whispered, "The pyramid is alive."
Veyan nodded. "Then let it know my name."
Uneasy Paths
The tremors had not stopped.
Rubble cracked and fell from the ceiling above them as the pyramid groaned like a beast stirring from sleep. Every footstep felt heavier. Every breath was thinner.
Saanvi's skin prickled as she clutched the pendant tighter. Its glow was dimmer now, almost as if it had been drained by the cocoon's awakening.
Kai helped her walk while Veyan led the way, his grip around the hilt of his blade tense, knuckles white. His eyes never stopped scanning—walls, glyphs, the shifting floor beneath them. He didn't speak. Not even to her.
"You okay?" Kai whispered to Saanvi.
"I'm not sure," she muttered. "The Watcher… it said Veyan was chosen. But also cursed."
"Sounds about right," Kai grinned grimly. "He's good at being both."
She gave a small, broken laugh—but there was no humor behind it.
"He's hiding something," she thought."He's always been haunted... but this place is bringing it to the surface."
As they moved deeper into the pyramid's inner halls, they passed murals carved into the stone—images older than memory: celestial beasts battling sea-born titans, islands shattering under divine storms, and a single figure standing atop a throne made of drowned gods. A warrior cloaked in stormfire.
Saanvi stopped.
"That figure… it looks like…"
Veyan didn't answer. But his jaw clenched. The resemblance was undeniable. The face was faceless, eroded by time, but the posture, the blade—the symbolism was screaming.
Kai frowned. "You think this is some kind of prophecy?"
"Not prophecy," Saanvi said slowly. "A cycle."
Memory's Bite
Suddenly, Veyan stopped walking.
Before them stood a vast obsidian door. It bore no handle, no lock—only an imprint in the shape of an open palm.
He reached out without hesitation and pressed his hand against it.
For a moment, nothing.
Then the door lit up with thousands of threads—lines of light dancing across its surface like veins. The door sighed open with a hiss of steam and stale air, revealing a room drenched in ghostlight.
But what chilled Saanvi wasn't the sight of the room.
It was what she felt.
Grief. Pain. Regret.
Memories not her own washed over her like waves crashing through her soul.
She fell to her knees, gasping. Kai tried to reach for her, but even he staggered. Veyan stood still, his shadow stretching unnaturally long into the chamber.
Then—his voice broke the silence.
"I remember this place."
They turned to him, stunned.
"This… I've been here before."
The Past Resurfaces
The chamber was lined with floating crystals, each holding flickering echoes—like memories trapped in glass. As Veyan walked past them, they lit up one by one, replaying moments in flickering images.
In one, a boy—barely older than thirteen—stood before a circle of cloaked warriors. He held a blade larger than himself, breathing hard, blood on his hands.
In another, the same boy was screaming—begging—for someone not to leave him. A woman's silhouette vanished into waves.
Saanvi's heart pounded.
"Is this… is this you, Veyan?"
He nodded. "This pyramid isn't just ancient. It's alive. It stores memories. Trials. Failures. I trained here. I bled here. I was cast out from here."
Kai's expression was unreadable. "You never told us…"
"I couldn't," Veyan said. "I didn't even know what it meant until now."
Saanvi's eyes locked on a final crystal. One that didn't flicker—one that screamed.
She stepped toward it.
A voice, distorted but familiar, echoed through it.
"If the boy survives the Maw, he is to be named Tideborn. If he fails—feed him to the Heart."
The memory ended in silence.
Veyan clenched his fists. "They chose me… then abandoned me. Said I was too wild. Too human. But now this place wakes because of me. Because it still remembers who I was."
Saanvi stepped beside him. "And do you?"
Arhatra Pulse
Suddenly, the pyramid's core pulsed again—once, twice.
Then the floor cracked.
A beam of deep red light exploded from the center of the chamber, blasting through the ceiling and spiraling into the sky like a beacon. The entire structure shook. Faint whispers, like thousands of voices crying underwater, echoed through the stone.
Kai looked up. "We just told the whole ocean where we are."
"Not just the ocean," Veyan said, narrowing his eyes. "Every cursed thing buried beneath the sea is coming."
Saanvi turned to him. "What do we do?"
He walked to the center of the chamber, blade drawn. The light painted his skin in blood-like crimson. His voice was calm—but there was something different in it now.
Conviction.
"We fight. We survive. And we claim this island. This pyramid. This power."
Kai whistled. "You've changed, Tideborn."
"I'm remembering who I am," Veyan said. "And what they tried to make me forget."
Rise of the Tideborn
As they made their way back toward the surface—through trembling halls and tunnels cracking under the weight of the pyramid's awakening—the air began to shift.
The glyphs on the walls pulsed with light, bowing to Veyan's presence. The spirits bound within the structure whispered his name—not in fear, but recognition.
And as they reached the uppermost chamber again, now exposed to the sky by the collapsed roof, Saanvi looked up—and saw the storm gathering.
A storm without wind.
A sky boiling with clouds that were not clouds, but shapes. Serpent-like. Watching.
She whispered, "The sea is watching."
Veyan raised his blade to the sky.
"Then let it remember me."
The Labyrinth Within
The inner sanctum of the pyramid wasn't built for mortals.
Veyan, Saanvi, and Kai passed into a narrow hall with no walls—only mirrors of polished black stone, endlessly reflecting one another. The reflections moved a split-second out of sync, whispering illusions from other timelines. Other fates.
Saanvi stopped.
In one mirror, she saw herself—not now, but older. Dressed in battle-worn armor. Alone. Her eyes were cold. A golden blade rested across her back, pulsing with flame.
In another, she saw Veyan… standing over Kai's body, blood dripping from his hand.
"No," she breathed, stepping back.
The mirrors shimmered.
"Don't look at them," Veyan said, voice sharp. "They show possibilities. Not truths."
"But what if—what if one of them is?" Saanvi's voice trembled.
Kai, his usual levity missing, glanced at a mirror that showed him sitting on a throne of bones, a crown of storms on his brow. The reflection smiled cruelly. He smashed it with the hilt of his dagger.
"I'm not that guy," he muttered.
Saanvi's thoughts twisted.This place pulls at your soul. It knows what scares you. What tempts you. What you might become.And what you might already be.
The Voice Beneath
As they crossed into the heart of the pyramid, they entered a vast atrium shaped like a downward spiral. Runes etched into every stone glowed red with each footfall. At its center stood a great black altar, cracked down the middle, veins of silver running through it.
Floating above it—chained by strands of spectral silk—was a stone sarcophagus.
And from inside it… something breathed.
Not loudly.
Just enough to be heard in the bones.
Saanvi gripped her pendant. "There's something still alive in there."
"No," Veyan said. "Not alive. Bound."
Kai frowned. "You think it's another Watcher?"
"No," Veyan murmured. "This one is worse. Older. This one wasn't meant to speak. Only to dream. But its dreams… shaped empires."
A low hum began to vibrate through the air—deep, pulsing like a heartbeat buried beneath stone.
Then a voice.Faint. Slithering.
"He returns... the Forgotten Prince of Tides… walking once more into his inheritance."
Saanvi spun, blade drawn. The voice had no source. It came from everywhere—and nowhere.
"So close you are now… to remembering your true name."
The True Name
Veyan stepped toward the sarcophagus, eyes hard. "Speak plainly. I won't be played."
The voice chuckled—like waves caressing a drowned city.
"You are but a fragment… a shadow of what was sealed. The Sea did not forget you. It only feared you."
"Arhatra still pulses within your blood. But there is more beneath that. A deeper tide. One you once chose to forget."
Kai drew both blades. "Okay, we're leaving. This place is literally trying to gaslight your soul."
But Veyan didn't move.
Instead, he whispered, "Then show me."
The sarcophagus cracked slightly—just a hairline fracture, but from it, a single drop of black water floated upward.
The drop split mid-air… and inside it were memories.
Flashes.
A younger Veyan screaming beneath a storm as masked figures tore something from his chest. A blade forged from coral and void. A throne sinking into the sea. A name being spoken—and then ripped from existence.
Saanvi stepped back.
"What… what did they do to you?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.
Veyan didn't answer.
The Oath Remains
Suddenly, the pyramid began to collapse.
Not from destruction—but transformation.
The sarcophagus cracked fully open. The spectral chains shattered. Inside it… was no corpse. Only a single obsidian mask.
It rose slowly and turned toward Veyan. The mask had no eyes. No mouth. Just silence.
But Saanvi heard a name in her mind.
"Veyaktama."
She gasped. "What… was that?"
Veyan's hands trembled. "That was my name. Before they called me Veyan."
Kai looked between them. "So what are you now? A hero? A relic? Or something else?"
Veyan stared at the mask, his reflection warping in its polished surface.
"I am what they tried to erase."
"And I will never forget again."
The Pyramid's Heartbeat
The pyramid began to rise from the ground like a beast shaking off centuries of slumber. Its stone shifted into coral, its runes into lightning. From its peak, a radiant beam of red and gold light exploded upward, spiraling into the sky.
Storm clouds swirled around the island.
At its edge, in the distant sea, ships began to move—drawn to the beacon.
And far beneath the waves, titans stirred.
The Forgotten Throne
As the pyramid pulsed with awakening energy, the trio stood before the mask—a relic that once belonged to the "First Tideborn," or perhaps, something even older.
Veyan stepped forward, hand trembling as he reached toward it. His fingers brushed the obsidian surface—
CLANG.
A sudden force flung him back. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the coral floor. Kai rushed toward him, but Veyan was already pushing himself up, blood trickling from his mouth.
The mask floated there, suspended above the cracked sarcophagus. From it, shadow-tentacles of liquid light extended outward, weaving into a throne that hadn't been there moments ago. Ancient. Regal. Wrought from coral, bone, and starlight.
And it called to him.
But not just him.
Saanvi staggered back, gasping. The pendant around her neck grew searing hot, burning through the fabric of her shirt and cracking slightly down the middle.
"He is not just the one who was forgotten,""He is the one who was buried…"
"For even gods feared the name he once wore."
Saanvi's Terror
She didn't realize she was crying until Kai reached for her, gripping her hand.
"I—he… it's not him anymore," she whispered.
Kai looked at her, eyes dark. "That's still Veyan. Whatever else he used to be."
"But you felt it," she said, voice cracking. "Didn't you? The weight in the air… that wasn't just power. It was judgment. Like the ocean itself was waiting to see what he'd choose."
Kai didn't respond.
He just looked toward Veyan, who stood now—staring at the throne that had built itself from the pyramid's memories. The mask hovered above it.
The whispers that had echoed around them began to die down. One final voice remained.
And it spoke in the same tone as the Watcher beneath the tomb… but colder. Sharper. Less like a guardian. More like a witness.
"One throne lies empty.One King was erased.Now the Tide calls for reckoning."
Blood Oath Revival
Veyan walked toward the throne again. This time, it did not repel him. It welcomed him.
The mask drifted toward his face—and stopped.
He reached up. Slowly.
Kai stepped forward, alarmed. "You sure about this?"
Veyan looked over his shoulder.
"No."
Then he placed the mask over his face.
A silence deeper than death fell.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then—
A blast of light exploded outward, shattering the throne and throwing the walls of the pyramid apart.
The ancient glyphs that lined the walls caught fire. The mask cracked down the middle—but instead of falling, it melted into mist and poured into Veyan's veins.
His eyes glowed—a fierce, burning crimson laced with silver.
Saanvi screamed.
Kai stumbled back, drawing his blade, unsure whether to protect or attack.
Veyan dropped to one knee, clutching his chest.
The whispers returned.
"The seal is broken.""The tide will rise.""Let the world remember the true tideborn."
Veyan Reborn
As Veyan rose again, the transformation was not physical—it was spiritual.
His presence felt heavier. Ancient. He looked the same, and yet... something subtle had changed. The way he stood. The way the air obeyed him. Even the flickering torches now bowed toward him.
"Veyan?" Saanvi whispered, stepping forward.
He turned.
His eyes were normal again—tired, but clear.
"It's still me," he said. "But I remember more now. Not just what they took from me. But what they were afraid I'd become."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "And what is that?"
Veyan looked out across the shifting pyramid, now fully awakened—its walls alive with stories and souls.
"A king," he said. "Not of crowns. Not of gold. But of tides."
The Sea Stirs
Above them, the island shook once more. The pyramid fully rose from its buried state, becoming a towering spire of coral and stone at the island's center.
And from the ocean, waves rose unnaturally high.
Stormclouds thickened.
Far away, watching from broken altars and dying lighthouses, the Sea Creed—lost warrior cults and cursed survivors—felt it.
The Tideborn had returned.
Ashvar, the tyrant who ruled the island, stood atop his fortress, watching the beacon of red and gold rise from the heart of his island.
He clenched his cursed cutlass, which now pulsed violently—responding to the awakening power.
His eye burned with fury and fear.
"So… he lives."