Episode 17

The salt spray kissed Theron’s face, a familiar sting that had long since replaced the silken touch of courtly fabrics. The wind whipped through his hair, a wilder, untamed caress than any he had known in the gilded halls of Eldoria. Yet, as he stood at the helm of the *Sea Serpent*, the rhythmic creak of the timbers and the endless expanse of the horizon often conjured a different kind of storm within him – one of memory.

He closed his eyes, the clamor of the approaching battle fading for a heartbeat. He saw her then, Elara. Her laughter, like the tinkling of bells on a summer breeze, echoed in the quiet chambers of his mind. Her eyes, the color of the deepest sapphire, held a warmth that could melt any frost. He remembered the stolen moments, the hushed vows exchanged under the moon’s benevolent gaze, the promise of a future they had so carelessly assumed was theirs.

It was the memory of her betrayal that had been the sharpest blade, even before the usurper’s treachery. Not a betrayal of loyalty, but a betrayal of fate, that had ripped them apart. He had chosen his kingdom, his people, over the simple, selfish desire to remain by her side, to shield her from the encroaching darkness. He had believed, in his youthful arrogance, that he could protect her best by being the king she deserved, a king strong enough to stand against any threat. He had been wrong.