The fountain was louder than I expected.
Water arced high into the air, sunlight catching on every droplet, turning it into scattered silver before it crashed back into the basin below. The sound was constant—rushing, splashing, alive. Around it, Newoaga bustled with people laughing, vendors calling out, children darting between legs.
And right in the middle of it all—
Class 1-S had completely taken over.
Liam was sitting on the edge of the fountain like he owned the place, boots dangling dangerously close to the water.
"If I fall in," he declared, "I expect at least three of you to jump in after me."
Kai snorted. "Why? You'd finally be clean."
"That was ONE time," Liam snapped. "And it was mud."
"Pretty sure mud doesn't smell like that," Seraphyne added sweetly, twirling one of her daggers lazily before sitting beside Aelira.
Aelira, who was very deliberately not sitting too close to anyone, glanced at the fountain water with narrowed eyes. "If anyone pushes me in, I will freeze the fountain. And then you."
"That seems excessive," Varein said calmly.
"It's proportional," she replied without hesitation.
Kazen leaned back against the stone railing, arms crossed, watching all of this with an amused grin. "You all look like tourists."
"We are tourists," Arion said, crouched near the edge and poking the water with the end of his axe handle. "Rich tourists."
Liraeth squinted at him. "That makes it worse."
I stood just a little apart from them, hands resting on the cool stone rim of the fountain, watching the water ripple outward every time someone disturbed it.
It was strange.
Nice.
No armor. No blood. No orders being shouted. No aura flaring in panic.
Just noise. Laughter. Life.
Seraphyne suddenly leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "Hey Rain."
I looked up. "Yeah?"
She grinned—that grin. The one that meant something bad was about to happen.
"Have you ever—" she paused dramatically, "—thrown a coin into a fountain and made a wish?"
I blinked. "…That's a thing?"
There was a beat of silence.
Then—
"You WHAT?" Liam barked.
Kazen stared at me like I'd just admitted to never seeing the sky. "You're joking."
"I'm not," I said defensively. "Why would you throw money into water?"
"For wishes!" Seraphyne said.
"For tradition," Varein added.
"For romance," Liraeth said, deadpan.
"For stupidity," Kai muttered.
They all started talking at once.
I raised both hands. "Okay—okay—slow down. Why would a fountain grant wishes?"
Seraphyne rolled her eyes and hopped off the fountain edge, grabbing my wrist before I could react. "Because that's how it works. Come on."
She dragged me closer to the basin while the others gathered around like this was the most important thing they'd do all day.
Kazen flicked a coin between his fingers and tossed it effortlessly into the water. Plink.
"I wished for good weather tomorrow," he said.
Kai immediately threw one in after. "I wished for better food."
Aelira hesitated… then quietly dropped a coin. "…I didn't wish for anything."
"Liar," Liam said.
She glared.
Liraeth tossed one in with a flick. "I wished for chaos."
"That explains a lot," Arion said, following suit.
Varein looked at me. "Your turn."
I stared down at the water.
It rippled gently, coins glinting beneath the surface like tiny stars.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a single coin. It felt heavier than it should have.
"…What am I supposed to wish for?" I asked.
Seraphyne leaned in close, her voice softer. "Anything."
For a moment, my mind went quiet.
Then faces surfaced.
Rua.
Flin.
Class 1-S.
The forest.
The guardian's eyes.
I closed my fingers around the coin.
Please…
Let them all stay like this.
I tossed it.
The coin vanished beneath the surface.
Nothing happened.
No flash. No magic.
But somehow… my chest felt lighter.
Liam suddenly slipped.
"—WOAH—!"
He windmilled wildly before splashing straight into the fountain.
Water exploded everywhere.
There was a full second of stunned silence.
Then Seraphyne burst out laughing so hard she had to lean on Aelira.
Kai doubled over. "YOU SAID THREE PEOPLE!"
"I DIDN'T MEAN RIGHT NOW—!" Liam shouted from the water, soaked and furious.
Kazen was laughing openly now. "Congratulations. You've officially christened the fountain."
Liam dragged himself out, dripping, hair plastered to his face. "I hate all of you."
I couldn't help it.
I laughed.
It came out surprised—short, breathless—but real.
Seraphyne noticed immediately and smiled at me like she'd won something.
As Liam tried—and failed—to wring water out of his shirt, Varein glanced toward the streets leading down toward the coast.
"…So," he said casually, "we still heading to the docks?"
Kai's eyes lit up. "Boats."
Liraeth straightened. "Ocean."
Arion grinned. "Trouble."
Kazen pushed off the railing. "Sounds like a plan."
I looked around at them—soaked, loud, ridiculous—and nodded.
"Yeah," I said. "Let's go."
And together, laughing and shoving and arguing the entire way, we left the fountain behind and headed toward the port.
The sound of water followed us long before we saw the port.
Not the gentle kind—the rhythmic breathing of the sea, heavy and alive, slapping against stone docks and wooden hulls. Lanterns hung from curved iron posts, their warm light reflecting across the waves in trembling streaks of gold and amber. Ships of all sizes rested side by side: fishing boats with patched sails, merchant vessels stacked with crates, and farther out—larger silhouettes that rocked slowly, confidently, like they belonged to the ocean itself.
I stood near the edge of the dock and stared.
This was different from rivers. Different from lakes.
The ocean felt… endless.
Liam stretched his arms behind his head and grinned. "Alright," he said casually, like he wasn't suggesting something insane. "We're here. Sun's still up. Wind's good. Let's rent a sailboat and head out."
There was a brief silence.
Then—
"Yes."
"Absolutely."
"Finally!"
"I want the biggest one."
"Do boats have kitchens?"
Seraphyne leaned over the railing and squinted at the water. "If I fall in, I'm blaming all of you."
Kai laughed. "If you fall in, I'm laughing first."
She kicked him in the shin.
Sir Aldred sighed, rubbing his temple. "You children are exhausting."
Liam turned instantly. "You're coming, right?"
Aldred looked at the sea, then back toward the city, then at us—ten eager, reckless first-years with far too much confidence and not enough sense.
"…No," he said flatly. "I am going back. I require a chair. And wine. Preferably both at the same time."
"Aww—" Kazen started.
"If you sink," Aldred continued, already turning away, "try not to make it my problem."
He paused, glanced back over his shoulder, and added, "Remain on guard. The ocean is not forgiving."
Then he was gone, his boots clicking against the stone as he disappeared into the lantern-lit streets.
The moment he was out of sight—
"BOAT TIME!" Kai shouted.
We nearly tackled the dockmaster in our excitement.
After several minutes of arguing, haggling, and Kazen casually paying an amount that made the dockmaster bow twice, we secured a massive sailboat—wide deck, reinforced hull, and twin masts that rose like white spines into the sky.
I stepped aboard last, hand brushing the railing.
The wood was warm from the sun.
The ocean breeze carried salt, freedom, and something sharper underneath—something that made my aura stir faintly, water responding to water.
"Alright!" Kazen called, already taking charge like he'd done this a hundred times. "Sails up! We're heading east—just far enough to feel the open sea."
The ropes tightened. The sails unfurled.
And Newoaga slowly began to drift away behind us.
At first, it was perfect.
The city faded into a painted backdrop of lights and stone. The wind pushed us forward, steady and kind. The deck creaked beneath our feet, and laughter filled the air—real laughter, unburdened, careless.
Seraphyne sat on the railing, feet dangling dangerously close to the water. Aelira stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the waves with quiet curiosity. Theon leaned against the mast, eyes wide, taking everything in like he didn't want to forget a single detail.
Varein stood at the bow, wind stirring around him instinctively, hair lifting slightly as his aura resonated with the sea breeze. He didn't even notice at first.
Kazen noticed.
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
I rested my hands on the railing and let myself breathe.
No blood.
No alarms.
No forests screaming in pain.
Just the ocean.
"Rain," Liam said suddenly, walking up beside me. "You good?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I've just… never seen anything like this."
He smiled softly. "There's a lot left to see."
The water darkened as we moved farther out.
Not suddenly—gradually. The waves grew deeper, heavier. The boat rocked more noticeably now, not enough to be dangerous, but enough that everyone adjusted their footing.
That's when Aelira stiffened.
"…Something's wrong," she said quietly.
The temperature dropped.
Not much—but enough.
The water beside the hull shimmered strangely, light bending in unnatural patterns.
"Everyone," Kazen said, tone sharp now. "Weapons."
The ocean answered before we could move.
The water exploded upward.
A massive shape burst from beneath the surface—scaled, serpentine, its body a twisting mass of aquamarine plates and glowing veins. Crests of hardened coral ran along its spine, and its eyes burned with a cold, ancient blue.
Then another.
And another.
"Leviacrest!" Kazen shouted. "Remnants of the Great Leviathan!"
The deck tilted violently as something slammed into the hull.
Seraphyne screamed—half terror, half excitement. "WHY IS IT ALWAYS BIG THINGS?!"
The water around us churned—and voices rose from beneath the waves.
Singing.
Beautiful. Haunting.
Sirens.
My chest tightened instantly. The sound pulled at something deep, emotional, heavy. I shook my head hard, biting down as my aura flared instinctively.
"DON'T LISTEN!" Liam shouted. "FOCUS!"
Kai leapt forward, flames roaring to life—but the moment his fire touched the water, it hissed violently, sputtering and weakening.
"—Are you kidding me?!" he yelled.
A Leviacrest lunged, slamming its body against the side of the boat. The hull groaned.
We were not on land.
Everything was wrong.
Varein thrust his spear forward, wind spiraling—but the ocean dragged against it, resisting, twisting the flow unpredictably.
Aelira froze a section of water instinctively, but it shattered under the weight of a charging creature.
Theon slammed his hand into the deck. "Earth—!"
The ship lurched.
"…Right," he muttered. "Boat."
Liraeth planted her feet and raised her shield, plasma flickering violently as waves crashed against it. The feedback made her grit her teeth, sparks dancing dangerously close to her arm.
"We can't fight like this!" Liam shouted, golden aura flaring as he barely deflected a siren's clawed strike.
"Then adapt!" Kazen snapped.
The sirens climbed onto the deck—wet, graceful, deadly. Blades of bone formed from their arms, eyes glowing with hypnotic light.
Seraphyne moved first—pink fire swirling tightly around her daggers, controlled, refined. "No singing," she hissed, slashing low and fast.
Arion roared and charged, axe swinging wide, knocking one siren clean off the deck.
But a Leviacrest surged upward again, jaws opening—
I moved without thinking.
Water wrapped around my sword, denser this time, sharper. White thunder crackled faintly—not unleashed, but present, humming.
I stepped onto the railing and jumped.
The ocean swallowed me.
Cold. Heavy. Crushing.
For half a second, panic flared.
Then my aura responded.
Water parted.
I twisted mid-fall and drove my blade into the creature's crest, lightning bursting outward in a muted shockwave that traveled through the sea instead of air.
The Leviacrest convulsed violently.
Above me, chaos continued.
Kazen fired arrows infused with mist, obscuring movement, creating pockets of visibility for the others. Varein adapted, wind spiraling tighter, faster, learning how to cut through resistance instead of fighting it.
Aelira froze specific joints, precise and controlled now.
Kai adjusted—fire condensed, explosive bursts instead of constant flame.
Liraeth held the center, shield raised, taking hit after hit as plasma arced violently around her, pain etched across her face—but she didn't move.
Minutes blurred.
Sweat mixed with saltwater.
Blood hit the deck and washed away.
Slowly—painfully—we learned.
Forty-five minutes later, the ocean grew quiet.
The last Leviacrest sank beneath the waves, dissolving into drifting light. The sirens' voices faded, leaving only the sound of our breathing and the creak of the ship.
No one cheered.
We stood battered, soaked, exhausted.
Weapons lowered—but not put away.
Kazen wiped his face and exhaled. "We're staying alert," he said firmly. "Ocean doesn't give second chances."
Everyone nodded.
I looked out at the darkening horizon, lightning still faintly dancing along my blade before fading.
The sea rolled on—vast, indifferent, beautiful.
And I understood something important.
Peace wasn't the absence of danger.
It was learning how to stand together when danger came.
The sails caught the wind again.
Canvas fluttered softly overhead as the boat turned, cutting a smooth line back toward Newoaga's distant glow. The port lights looked like scattered stars resting on the water, warm and steady after the chaos we'd just survived.
No one spoke at first.
The sea had settled, almost respectfully, waves rocking the hull in a slow rhythm. It felt unreal—how something so violent moments ago could now feel so… gentle.
Liraeth finally broke the silence, resting her mace against the railing.
"…Next time someone says 'just a relaxing sail,' I'm bringing armor."
Seraphyne snorted weakly, pink flames flickering faintly as she wrung water out of her sleeves. "You say that like you wouldn't complain if you did bring armor."
"I absolutely would," Liraeth replied flatly.
That earned a few tired laughs.
Kai sat cross-legged near the mast, staring at the sea like it had personally offended him. "Fighting in water sucks," he muttered. "My footing was garbage."
"Your footing is always garbage," Theon said without looking up, carefully pressing bandages against a crack in his gauntlet.
Kai pointed at him. "Say that again when the ground isn't moving."
Varein leaned against the side of the boat, wind aura barely stirring now, his breathing slow and controlled. "We adapted," he said quietly. "That's what matters."
I watched him for a moment. He looked… different lately. More grounded. Less restless. His aura didn't leak the way it used to—it sat closer to him, tighter, like his body was finally learning how to carry it.
Aelira sat beside me, boots dangling over the edge, ice aura cooling the lingering sting of saltwater burns on her hands. "We were sloppy at first," she admitted. "If that fight had lasted longer…"
"We'd have adjusted again," Liam said, sitting heavily with his back against the mast. Gold aura pulsed faintly around a cut on his leg as it sealed. "Still. No excuses."
Arion nodded, hugging his axe close. "Guard down at sea means drowning. Monsters or not."
That settled over us.
Even here—under a quiet sky, sails full, wounds fresh but closing—we didn't forget why we were alive.
Training didn't stop just because the sun was setting.
Still… we let ourselves breathe.
Seraphyne leaned back against the railing, staring up at the sky. "You know," she said, voice softer, "this is still kind of amazing."
Kazen glanced at her. "The ocean?"
"Being here," she corrected. "All of us. Not bleeding out in a forest."
I couldn't help it—I smiled.
The breeze brushed against my face, cool and clean. The faint hum of my aura had finally calmed, lightning gone, water settled. My sword rested against my side, no longer screaming for motion.
I thought about the academy.
The drills.
The missions that would come again.
This wasn't an escape from being knights.
It was a reminder of why we were becoming them.
"We don't slack," Kazen said suddenly, breaking the quiet again. Not sharp—just firm. "Summer break or not."
"Obviously," Theon replied.
"But," Kazen continued, glancing around at all of us, "we also don't forget to live."
No one argued.
The boat creaked softly as it glided forward, water parting beneath us. Someone passed around a waterskin. Someone else laughed too loudly at nothing. Seraphyne nudged Kai when he started drifting toward sleep.
I stood near the bow, watching Newoaga grow closer—its lights reflecting across the sea like scattered gold.
Danger would come again.
Training would resume.
But right now?
Right now, we were together. Alive. Learning. Growing.
And that was enough.
The boat sailed on—steady, quiet, and unbroken—carrying us back not just to the city…
…but to whatever came next.