August 28, 2028 – the last Sunday before senior year**
The rest of summer is… normal.
Not fake normal.
Real, boring, perfect normal.
We swim in the quarry until our fingers prune-fingers ache.
Seras teaches the pack how to make flamin' hot Cheeto mac & cheese.
Kayo and I marathon every Studio Ghibli movie while Remy pretends he's only there for the popcorn.
Rowan finally learns how to lose at Mario Kart (Aki and Riku are mercilessly carry him to last place every time).
Al keeps the Ohio Club open twenty four seven just because he can, and Holly sings on Thursdays like nothing ever tried to end the world.
The hidden cities stay hidden.
The gods stay quiet.
Even the mirrors behave.
I turn seventeen and a half with zero apocalypses.
Mom cries when I get my senior parking pass.
Dad pretends he's not crying when I beat him at dominoes for the first time.
Remy and I spend every full moon on the ridge, learning new Caddo words between kisses.
I can sing the blackbird song perfectly now.
He says my accent is "adorably Romanian," and I threaten to lightning-bolt his truck.
The crown stays quiet above my heart, content to just… beat.
Symbols only show when I want them to (usually when Seras dares me to make the lake spell rude words in steam).
August 29, 2028 – first day of senior year
I'm seventeen, wearing the same pink Vans (now held together with duct tape and spite), twin tails braided with three blackbird beads that clink when I walk.
Remy meets me at my locker, same crooked grin, locket shining.
**Remy:**
"Ready for the most boring year of our lives?"
**Celeste (grinning):**
"God, I hope so."
Seras slams her locker beside us, schedule already on fire (accidentally, she swears).
**Seras:**
"If anyone tries to start an apocalypse before prom, I'm setting them on fire.
Senior prank rights are sacred."
Kayo appears out of nowhere, tails hidden, uniform perfect.
**Kayo:**
"I've already bribed the principal with enchanted mochi.
We get the good cafeteria table."
Rowan leans against the wall in a visitor badge that definitely says "Uncle," sipping coffee.
**Rowan:**
"Shambhala sent college recommendation letters.
All of them say 'do not anger.'"
The bell rings.
We walk to first period together (storm queen, dire-coyote, sun goddess, nine-tailed fox, monk, and two very smug oni).
No hidden cities knocking.
No gods texting.
No reflections trying to murder me.
Just lockers slamming, terrible fluorescent lights, and the promise of terrible cafeteria pizza.
Senior year.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Mine.
I lace my fingers through Remy's as we head to class.
The crown above my heart gives one lazy, happy spin.
The valley steams gently in the distance like it's smiling.
And for the first time in my entire life, the future feels like something I get to choose.
Not fight for.
Just… live.
See you at graduation, world.
Try not to need saving until then.
(The storm queen is busy being seventeen.) **First Week of Senior Year** Thursday, September 5, 2028 – 3:17 p.m.**
The final bell rings and the hallway explodes into chaos.
I'm leaning against my locker, watching Remy try to fit three textbooks, a football helmet, and half a bag of Takis into a backpack that gave up on life last year.
He looks up, catches me staring, and grins like the boy who once carried me out of a burning bathhouse.
**Remy:**
"Stop judging my organizational skills, Morua-Tsatoke."
I raise an eyebrow.
**Celeste:**
"That's not a backpack anymore.
That's a cry for help with zippers."
Seras barrels past us, literally on fire (small, controlled, and very proud).
**Seras (yelling over her shoulder):**
"Senior prank planning meeting at the quarry, 7 p.m.!
Bring snacks and felony ideas!"
Kayo appears beside me, already holding two iced coffees and a schedule that somehow has zero classes before 10 a.m.
**Kayo:**
"I bribed the counselor with limited-edition fox mochi.
You're welcome."
Rowan walks by in a "Hot Springs High Faculty" lanyard that definitely wasn't approved by anyone.
He doesn't even look at us, just mutters:
**Rowan:**
"Detention slips are now enchanted.
Try me."
A freshman drops his phone in terror.
We all lose it.
This is it.
Senior year.
No apocalypses on the syllabus.
Just college apps, prom drama, and the quiet, ridiculous joy of being seventeen with the people who once helped me drown an empire.
Remy finally zips the backpack (miraculously), slings it over one shoulder, and grabs my hand.
**Remy:**
"Come on, storm queen.
We've got one more year to be normal before the world remembers we exist."
I lace our fingers, three blackbird beads clinking softly.
**Celeste:**
"Normal sounds perfect."
The crown above my heart gives a lazy, contented spin.
Outside, the valley steams gentle and warm.
The sky is blue.
The future is wide open.
And for the first time in forever,
nobody is trying to kill us, crown us, or drown us.
Just high school.
Just us.
Let's make it the best year yet.
(The storm is resting.
But she's still smiling.)
**Extra Credit from the Deep**
Friday, September 6, 2028 – 6:58 a.m.**
I'm brushing my teeth when the HUD flickers back into existence for the first time since Atlantis knelt.
It's gentle this time—no red alerts, no countdowns, just soft turquoise letters floating in the bathroom mirror.
```
NEW MISSION UNLOCKED
BLOOD AND WATER
Objective: Learn the living Atlantean tongue
Current progress: 48 / 100 %
Difficulty: Senior-year elective
Threat level: Literally zero
Reward on completion: ????? (the sea is being cryptic)
```
I spit toothpaste, blink, and it's still there.
Remy appears in the doorway, towel over his shoulder, hair dripping from the shower.
**Remy (reading over my shoulder):**
"...Did the ocean just give you homework?"
**Celeste (grinning around foam):**
"Looks like I accidentally signed up for AP Atlantean."
The HUD adds a little winking emoji made of bioluminescent plankton.
**Remy:**
"No battles, no tridents, no world-ending stakes?"
**Celeste:**
"Just language lessons.
And apparently a surprise gift when I hit 100 %."
He leans against the doorframe, smirking.
**Remy:**
"So senior year stays boring…
except you're secretly studying the mother tongue of an entire drowned civilization in your spare time."
**Celeste:**
"Pretty much."
The HUD pings again.
```
First lesson drops tonight at 11:11 p.m.
Location: the quarry (bring a swimsuit and zero expectations)
```
Seras texts the group chat before I can even tell her.
**Seras:**
DID THE OCEAN JUST SLIDE INTO YOUR DMs WITH SYLLABUS???
**Kayo:**
I'm bringing snacks and floaties.
**Rowan:**
I'm bringing popcorn. This is the most wholesome escalation I've ever witnessed.
I laugh so hard I almost drop my toothbrush.
Senior year just got one weird, wonderful, completely voluntary extra class.
No wars.
No monsters.
Just me, my friends, and the sea deciding I'm worth teaching for fun.
I rinse my mouth, look at the mirror, and answer out loud.
**Celeste:**
"Challenge accepted."
The HUD flashes a tiny heart made of coral.
```
See you tonight, Queen of Sea and Storm.
Class is in session. ♥
```
Best. Senior. Year. Ever.
**New Kicks, Old Promises**
Saturday, September 7, 2028 – 11:23 a.m.**
The old pink Vans finally gave up the ghost yesterday.
One sole flapped like a dying fish during fourth period, and Seras laughed so hard she accidentally set her algebra homework on fire.
So today we're on a mission.
The four of us (me, Remy, Seras, Kayo) pile into Remy's SUV and head to the one shoe store in Hot Springs that's been around since the seventies and still smells like leather and possibility.
I'm barefoot in the passenger seat, old Vans in a plastic bag like a corpse.
Remy glances over.
**Remy:**
"You sure you don't want to bury them with honors on the ridge?"
**Celeste:**
"Tempting, but the quarry already has dibs on tonight for Atlantean 101.
No room for a shoe funeral."
Seras leans between the seats.
**Seras:**
"New rule: the new pair has to be even louder than the old ones."
Kayo holds up her phone.
**Kayo:**
"I found a customizer online who'll dye them any color and embroider whatever you want.
My vote: black with tiny glowing tridents that only show up underwater."
I grin.
**Celeste:**
"Sold."
We spend an hour picking the exact shade (deep storm-cloud purple with a faint shimmer that shifts to ocean teal when the light hits it).
Then I hand the guy behind the counter my design sketch:
- Left toe: tiny blackbird in flight
- Right toe: tiny river-wolf silhouette
- Heel tab on both: three blackbird beads in silver thread
- Inside tongue: the forty-first line of Deep Script in microscopic Atlantean (the one about forgiving the tide)
The guy doesn't even blink. This is Hot Springs. He's seen weirder.
**Shoe guy:**
"Two weeks.
You want the glow-in-the-dark soles too?"
**Celeste:**
"Obviously."
Remy pays before I can argue (claims it's "early graduation present").
Outside, the September sun is perfect.
I spin the plastic bag with the dead Vans like a helicopter.
**Celeste:**
"Goodbye, old friends.
You carried me through hell, high water, and three hidden cities.
Time for retirement."
Seras fake-salutes.
**Seras:**
"They're going in the Ohio Club trophy case next to Al's favorite tommy gun."
Kayo opens a tiny portal and yeets the bag straight into Al's bar.
Al's voice echoes back faintly:
"About damn time Morau kid!"
Remy pulls me into his side as we walk back to the car.
**Remy:**
"Two weeks until the new ones are ready.
Guess you're stuck in flip-flops till then."
**Celeste (kicking a rock):**
"Tragic."
He laughs, kisses the top of my head.
**Remy:**
"Purple storm-cloud Vans with secret ocean writing.
Very you."
I look up at him, three blackbird beads clinking softly in my braids.
**Celeste:**
"New year.
New kicks.
Same ridiculous life."
The valley steams behind us like it's proud.
Senior year is still perfectly, beautifully normal.
Except tonight the ocean is teaching me its native language under the quarry stars.
And in two weeks I'll be breaking in shoes that literally glow when I swim.
Normal never looked so good.