Prince of The Abyss

The world shattered around him, being completely destroyed in front of his eyes, like it had never existed, like it was nothing.

...

But Voidpiercer had failed... so how had the world been shattered?

...

It didn’t, he was still on the boat... the world that had been shattered was his own.

’What?’

At this moment, he was lost, like a child inside a dark forest trying to get to his sick grandmother. His mind was racing, as his mind was being filled with thoughts, yet none stood out among each other, so in reality, he wasn’t thinking of anything.

His mind was like a road that led to a castle, but that road had many paths sprouting from it. So many it was impossible to choose, so in the end, the sheer quantity of possibilities overwhelmed him, and he didn’t know what to do.

It was his fault that he could have admitted it if he could still think clearly. But that wasn’t the case at the moment.

He had put all his trust inside Voidpiercer, ever since his fight with Denial, his mind, which was his safe place, started to revolve around the blade; it was why he kept clinging to it in his sleep, why he wanted to learn how to use the blade.

And while there was a reason for it, because it was the only thing that worked with Denial, and really the only thing that he could use against others, but he had gone way beyond the blade being his tool.

If he were still inside the Tides, he could say it had become some sort of anchor.

And now that the blade had failed right in front of his own eyes, he didn’t know what to do.

...

Aether lifted his gaze, looking as another wave hit the boat, which was just about to hit their boat.

But while his mind was still lost... his body reacted, planting the blade into the wood, and putting all his strength into hanging on to it, as the wave hit them with all his weight. He didn’t know how the boat was still alive after so many waves.

As the wave passed, he collapsed to the floor with his hands still resting on his blade.

With the wave gone, his body stopped acting, as there wasn’t an emergency anymore.

...

Aether let go of the blade, staring at his own shaking hands...

Who, What, Where, When, Why

...

’What is happening?’

...

’What am I supposed to do now?’

...

’Where am I?’

...

...

’When is this going to stop?’

...

’Why?

...

’Why did Voidpiercer fail? It had worked just fine with Denial’s illusions.’

...

’Why am I here?’

...

’Why is this all happening?’

...

...

...

’Why me?’

...

..

.

”The world isn’t fair.”

...

’But shouldn’t he be the one who knows that best, so why now, was he acting like it was the first time that I happened?’

”Why is it always happening to me? How much does it think I can take?”

’He has been taking it quite well until now? So why was he acting like a child again, like the first time the world had been unfair to him, the day he was trapped inside the Withred, what were all these years of adapting and accepting that fact for, hadn’t he had enough time to realize crying about it wasn’t going to lead him nowhere

Such a disappointment.’

...

”Why are you here...”

The Abyss smiled.

’Oh me? I’m just narrative just narrating how much of a child you are at the moment.’

Aether looked up at the Abyss.

”What do you mean?”

The Abyss tilted its head. ”I think it’s quite obvious. I just... don’t understand what you’re doing? I mean, tell me, what do you think this is doing for you, for what reason are you crying over the world not being... fair? It had never been fair, and you know that. And yet you have gone against it and been able to survive, so why now did you throw all of it out? Because your little blade failed? What a sorry excuse you are.”

...

”I mean, after you defeated Denial, you talked so big, look at you now. You let your anger out on others, look at you know. Pathetic.”

...

...

Aether looked down at the floor, his eyes hollow. He knew the Abyss was right. He had been put in many other situations that were worse than this, and he had survived them all by not backing down. When he fought the Queen in Frozen Crown, did he collapse on the ground and cry that it wasn’t fair for a Reader to fight a Breaker?

No.

So why was he crying now, just because he couldn’t cheat the system and get out of this place?

Did he think the others who passed the trial and had to fight Anger could escape the illusions through a powerful magic blade?

No.

So then why?

I mean, did he think that it was impossible to get out any other way?

Did he really think this illusion, or whatever this world is, was too hard for him?

...

...

...

The wind blew cold in his face, almost as if it wanted to bring him down, like everything in this place.

And yet he stood up.

...

And let Voidpiercer back inside his mark.

He was going to get out of this place without it; that way, he could show himself that he didn’t need it.

The question was how?

But if he lingered on questions like he has been doing ever since he got back to the real world, it wouldn’t lead anywhere; humans had an instinct for a reason.

Looking around, he saw that the whole place was in chaos; no one knew what to do, and everyone was doing whatever they wanted, whatever they thought would help.

...

He frowned, realizing what Anger had in mind with this illusion, why it had chosen it.

It wanted him to take charge, to become the captain of the boat and save everyone... why? Because it knew that the last time he had done it, he failed, and that he didn’t want to be put in the same situation again.

And so, his anger would grow as each minute passed of being thrown around by the waves, and the necessity of his having to take the role grew.

...

Yet, realizing this, his frown turned around into a smirk.

Aether exhaled slowly.

Not because he was afraid, but because the noise was getting on his nerves.

The storm screamed, the ship groaned, people shouted over one another like that would somehow convince the sea to listen. Chaos for chaos’s sake. Useless. If Anger wanted to drown him in noise and motion, then it was doing a poor job of it.

He stepped forward as the deck tilted, boots sliding briefly before settling. Another wave struck the hull, hard enough to throw several people to the ground. They scrambled, panicked, pulling at ropes that did nothing, hammering at places already lost.

”Tch.”

Aether raised his voice, sharp and cutting.” Stop running.”

It wasn’t a shout born of desperation. It was a command.

Some ignored him. So he didn’t repeat himself. If they wanted to ignore him, then so be it, they would have been useless either way.

He grabbed the nearest loose rope, looped it around a damaged beam, and yanked it tight, anchoring it to a support post with brutal efficiency. The wood stopped groaning quite as loudly.

Then he turned.

”You three,” he said, pointing at the torn sail dragging the ship sideways. ”Cut it off. It’s dead weight.”

A man hesitated, staring at the sail.

Aether’s gaze hardened. ”Unless you plan to stitch it mid-storm, cut it.”

The rope snapped. The sail tore free and vanished into the dark. The ship straightened slightly.

’Good.’

”Bow crew,” Aether continued, already moving, ”keep us facing the waves. Don’t fight them, ride them. If we turn sideways, we’re done.”

Really, he was really hoping he was doing what he was supposed to do. He had never been put in this situation. He had never seen the sea when he was a child, but one of his uncles was a captain of a ship that traveled a lot, so he heard many stories, and some of them were about him navigating through storms even in the worst conditions.

So he was just copying him.

Another wave crashed over the deck. Aether barely reacted, bracing instinctively as water slammed into him, cold and heavy. His wound flared, sharp and irritating, but he ignored it. Pain was background noise.

”You,” he said to a group frantically bailing water. ”Stop flooding the deck with your own panic. Two buckets at a time, rotate. The rest of you, reinforce the mast base. If that snaps, nothing else matters.”

In moments like this, a captain has to make sure his others are absolute to his crew.

The ship creaked in protest, but it held.

Aether moved as he belonged there, stepping around broken planks, catching ropes before they whipped loose, redirecting people with short, clipped orders. No speeches. No reassurance. Just function.

A massive wave surged toward them, taller than the rest. Someone opened their mouth to scream.

”Brace,” Aether said calmly. ”Hold.”

The ship climbed the wave, wood straining, ropes screaming. Water crashed down over the deck.

And the ship did not break.

When the water receded, the chaos had changed shape. Still loud. Still violent. But controlled.

People looked at Aether without realizing why.

He didn’t look back at them.

The storm wasn’t over.

But neither was he.

...

Aether looked at the sea, seeing how the storm was still as rough as it was when he got here.

And smiled.