Kaelen's grip on the Sun Blade finally loosened. He had been trained since birth to never relinquish it; it was the sacred link to the ancestral magic that kept Solaria alive. But the image Lysandra had conjured—the colossal, swirling, unstable Heart of the Abyss—had been terrifyingly real. It was a threat far greater than any army.
He inhaled the thick, salty air of the cavern, a grim taste of his new reality. He was the Heir of the Sun, and now, he had to trade his very sun for the survival of his people.
"I will give you the blade," Kaelen said, the words costing him a physical effort, a sacrifice of the spirit. "But you will not just 'honor your word,' Sea Witch. You will give me a guarantee. A magical bond that proves your intent to stabilize the Heart, and a promise that no wave of the Azure Sea will touch the soil of Solaria for one full year. Fail, and the consequences will fall upon you."
Lysandra's expression shifted, the cold amusement in her eyes replaced by something calculating. "A magical bond... from me to a surface-dweller? A waste of my power, but your fear is understandable." She considered him, then the blade. The Sun Blade's light was the only thing standing between her and a disaster that would wipe out her deep-sea world as well.
"Very well. I will bind us," she agreed. "But know this, Kaelen. The bonds of the deep are not like your brittle Solarian treaties. They are permanent, woven into the essence of the contracting souls."
Lysandra extended her left hand. A faint, silver light pulsed along her pale, scaled arm. She did not touch him, but pointed her finger at the black cavern wall. A glyph of pure, swirling water energy appeared, complex and ancient—the Oath of the Tides.
"You must touch the glyph with your hand, Prince. When you do, the magic will bind the exchange. My promise: the Heart of the Abyss will be stabilized, and Solaria will be spared from the rising tides for one calendar year. Your oath: you relinquish the Sun Blade to me, without claim or retrieval, for the purpose of the stabilization."
Kaelen hesitated only a moment longer. He stepped forward, sheathed the Sun Blade, and reached out. The moment his fingers made contact with the cold, liquid light of the glyph, a shocking bolt of silver-cold energy shot up his arm, meeting the ancestral gold warmth of his Solarian lineage. The pain was sharp, intense, a fusion of two warring elements. A faint, swirling mark—half sunburst, half wave crest—seared itself onto his palm, then vanished.
The bond was struck.
Lysandra watched him intently, her face unreadable. "The magic recognizes you. It is done."
Kaelen slowly drew the Sun Blade from its sheath, the familiar golden light suddenly feeling heavy, burdensome. He held it out, hilt first, a supreme act of faith and despair.
Lysandra reached out and took the blade. The moment her cold fingers wrapped around the warm, sun-infused hilt, the cavern seemed to gasp. The glowing orb of the Heart of the Abyss flared violently, responding to the proximity of the two opposing powers. Lysandra hissed, not in pain, but in concentration, her eyes shutting as she channeled her vast power to control the volatile reaction.
She did not look at Kaelen as she addressed him, her voice strained. "Leave. Now. I must work with this power. Do not interrupt my focus, or you will doom us both. Stay at your camp. I will send word when the stabilization is complete."
Feeling utterly stripped and weaponless, Kaelen turned without a word. He looked back once as he reached the cave entrance. The Sea Witch stood before the Heart of the Abyss, holding the Sun Blade—the symbol of his power and his people's hope—and using it as a magical tool. The sight was a dagger twist of humiliation and necessity.