Krakenos looks at me, a faraway expression crossing his face. “It was a different time,” he says with nostalgia and a hint of sadness. “My people were prosperous, and our kingdom was thriving. My father, the king, was a wise and just ruler, and he taught me everything he knew about leadership and responsibility. He showed me the importance of putting our people first, of making difficult decisions for the greater good.”
He pauses, lost in thought, and I find myself leaning in slightly, eager to hear more. There’s something captivating about the way he speaks, the depth of emotion that lies beneath his words.
“I remember one time, when I was just a young prince, my father took me on an expedition to the forbidden depths of our oceans. He showed me the things that lurked in the shadows of our world—the things that we had to protect our people from. He knew I’d never understand until I saw the beasts for myself, just as he didn’t believe his father when he was a young prince. It was a rite of passage, in a way, a test of courage and resolve.”
I nod, trying to imagine the kind of monsters that could frighten a being as powerful as Krakenos. “That must have been terrifying.”
He nods, his gaze distant, lost in the memories of his past. “It was. But it was also a lesson in the importance of strength and courage. My father showed me that a true leader must be willing to face their fears head-on, to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”
“Your father sounds like a great man.”
Krakenos smiles softly, pride and sadness on his face. “He is. And I can only hope to live up to his legacy.”
I reach out tentatively, placing a hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort, feeling the warm, smooth texture of his skin beneath my fingertips, before returning my hand to my lap. “I’m sure you will,” I say, offering him a small smile of encouragement.
As Krakenos’s words fade, a comfortable silence settles between us. The storm outside continues its relentless assault, but in here, I feel a strange sense of peace. It’s short-lived, though, as Krakenos suddenly rises to his feet, his movements fluid and graceful despite his imposing size.
“I should check on the storm,” he says, and I watch as he moves toward the cave entrance, his silhouette stark against the flashes of lightning that illuminate the turbulent sea beyond. For a moment, I’m struck by how otherworldly he looks—a creature of myth and legend, standing guard at the threshold of our sanctuary.
I watch Krakenos’s silhouette against the stormy backdrop, my mind still processing our conversation. There’s so much more I want to ask him, but my exhaustion is taking over. I try to fight it, but my eyelids are getting heavier by the second.
Scooting back against the cave wall, I can’t help but feel a little safer with Krakenos keeping watch. As I start to doze off, I catch one last glimpse of him standing guard at the entrance.
My last coherent thought before sleep takes over is how surreal this whole situation is. Who would’ve thought I’d end up feeling somewhat at ease in a cave with an alien prince during a raging storm?
Yet, somehow, it feels right.
Chapter 10
Mia
I stir from a deep sleep, my mind foggy and disoriented. For a blissful moment, I forget where I am. Then reality crashes down, and panic surges through me. I bolt upright, wildly looking around the unfamiliar cave.
“Where am I? What’s happening?” I gasp, my voice hoarse from sleep.
A large, blue figure moves toward me, and I instinctively flinch. But then I recognize Krakenos, his black eyes fixed on me with concern.
“Be calm, Mia,” he says. “You’re safe.”
My breathing slows as I remember. The cave. The storm. Krakenos. I run a hand through my tangled hair, trying to gather my thoughts.
“How long was I out?” I ask, surprised by how refreshed I feel.
“A couple of hours,” Krakenos replies. “You seemed to need the rest.”
I nod, stretching my arms above my head. The nap has done wonders for my energy, at least.
“So,” I say, glancing toward the cave entrance. “What’s the weather report?”
He looks back out at the rain. “It will be stormy for a while. It’s odd…” He pauses, his brow furrowing. “I’ve seen storms materialize like that back on Mythos, but for it to happen here too?”
For a moment, concern flashes across his usually stoic features, but he quickly shakes it off before changing the subject.
“Before you fell asleep,” he begins, “you were asking me all about life where I’m from, but I didn’t get to ask… What about your people, Mia?” His voice is unexpectedly gentle, almost coaxing. “What is life like on Earth?”
I pause, trying to figure out how to explain modern human society to an aquatic prince. “Well,” I begin, thinking carefully, “it’s definitely a lot different from your world. For one thing, we don’t have kings or queens. I mean, some countries do, but they’re mostly just figureheads. We have governments, but they’re elected by the people. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”
Krakenos tilts his head, clearly intrigued by this foreign concept. “You mean to say your people have a say in who leads them? They choose their own rulers?”
I nod, but then hesitate, not wanting to paint too rosy a picture. “Sort of. It’s complicated. The truth is, a lot of people feel like they don’t really have much of a say at all. Like their voices don’t matter, and the people in power don’t really represent them. There’s a lot of corruption. It’s not a perfect system, by any means.”
He frowns, confusion etched on his face. “What about the young ones? Perhaps things can change through them?”
It’s almost endearing to see the optimism I once had reflected in him. “Well,” I begin. “I was a teacher before I ended up here. And I tried my best to influence my young students. Every day, I’d teach them how to think critically about the world around them. But some days, it’d feel like an uphill battle. There’s so much working against these kids.”
I pause, looking down at my hands. It’s a struggle I’ve grappled with for a long time—wanting so badly to make a real impact, but feeling powerless to do anything.
Krakenos is silent as he considers my words. “In my world,” he says slowly, his deep voice thoughtful, “we value our teachers. They are held in the highest esteem, second only to royalty like myself.”
I look up at him, surprised by this revelation. “That’s…” A wistful smile tugging at my lips. “That sounds amazing.”
He nods. “It wasn’t always this way. Our society used to be more warlike. But my father started a tradition of change, of progress. We even stopped waging war against the other races of Mythos, instead focusing on our own growth and development.”
I’m almost envious that he comes from a society that values its people so deeply.
Krakenos suddenly lowers his gaze, his gills flaring as he sighs. “Although we were seeing great progress, the plague came and ravaged our people, and we fell into war again. My father… It was as if he needed someone to blame, and so we turned our focus back to petty skirmishes with the Saberkai and Drakari. I wanted to take over, to put an end to it, but I have no claim to the throne unless I can secure a female to ensure our bloodline.”
I look away, his words settling heavily. It’s a stark reminder of the gravity of our situation, of the challenges we both face. My heart aches for him, for the responsibility he carries as the heir to a crumbling kingdom.
“Do not let my plight burden you,” he says, though his gaze remains fixed on the rocky floor. “You have your own troubles back home, and I’ll make sure you return there safely.”
I bite back what I really want to say. I want to tell him that I’m not so sure I want to go back home anymore. The thought of returning to my old life feels less appealing with each passing moment in his presence.
But it’s ridiculous of me to even entertain the idea that I can make a difference in his world. Who am I to think I have that kind of power or influence? I’m just a lost soul from Earth, stumbling through life without a clear purpose.
I hug myself, trying to ward off the chill that’s crept in with the fading light. The storm outside howls, a haunting soundtrack to our heavy conversation. As the temperature drops, goosebumps rise on my arms. The weight of everything we’ve discussed settles over us like a thick, suffocating blanket.
“It’s getting late,” I whisper, hugging my arms around myself in a futile attempt to ward off the chilly air. “And cold. But I don’t think we’ll be able to start a fire in this dampness.” The ground is soggy beneath our feet, and any wood we might find would likely be too waterlogged to burn.
Krakenos nods and scans our surroundings with a calculating gaze. “You’re right. We should rest and conserve our energy for whatever challenges await us tomorrow.” His voice is steady and reassuring, but I can sense the underlying tension in his words. Neither of us knows what the future holds, but we both understand the importance of being prepared for anything.
I hesitate for a moment, biting my lip as I contemplate the idea that’s been forming in my mind. The thought of sleeping alone, vulnerable and exposed in this strange place… I muster up my courage, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.
“Maybe we could… sleep close together?” I suggest tentatively, my voice barely above a whisper. “You know, for warmth.” I feel my cheeks heating at the suggestion, but I force myself to meet his gaze steadily. It’s a practical solution, I tell myself. Nothing more.
Krakenos’s eyes widen slightly, but he nods. “Of course.” His voice is carefully neutral, but I swear I can see something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or maybe even relief.
