The soft sounds of rushing water and birds calling slowly pierced my fogged mind, gently dragging me out of unconsciousness. The next thing I notice is the wet, soft sand I was laying on. My eyes open, and I realize a few things at once.
One: I'm wearing some kind of helmet, as there are bars and glass across my vision. Though strangely, they barely obstruct my sight at all, seeming transparent.
Two: I am not alone, as there are a few people talking nearby.
And three: I can't remember anything. At all.
I look over at the people, filing my amnesia away for now to focus on the more immediate. It was a group of three men and a woman. I could hear them speaking, and after a moment the knowledge of the language pulled itself from the pit of my nonexistent memory. They were speaking Seretian, but a slightly different version than I knew. I could, however, still understand them.
“Do any of you guys know what it is?” One of the men who was holding a shield and wearing plate armour said.
The girl with armoured robes and a staff replied, “It resembles an antique wardiver suit, but it appears to be heavily modified.”
I could only assume she was referring to me, but could they not see that I was in it?
One of the other guys, this one with a bow and leather armour, glanced over at me and froze.
“Umm… Guys? Was it glowing before?” He said nervously. Everyone else immediately shut up and looked over. The robed woman shook her head.
“No, it was not. Everyone, get back!” She said, raising her staff as light gathered around it. The plate guy stepped forward, readying his shield, as the other two guys stepped back. One readied their bow, and the other also began to work what looked like magic, judging from the tattoo spreading from around their eye and down their cheek. Deciding that it was probably better to get up and talk than get attacked, I slowly rolled to my knees before standing, feeling water and seaweed fall from my body in wet chunks.
The group of… adventurers? Soldiers? Watched me with nervous awe as I stood, towering over them. I looked around, taking in my surroundings. I was on a beach, soft tan sand stretching out to either side and terminating at a lush forest. I looked down at the terrified squad and spoke for the first time.
“Who are you four, and in what country am I?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
My voice echoed, sounding as though I was speaking from inside a flooded cavern. I looked down, seeing that I was wearing a heavily armoured wardiver suit, which explained the helmet. A flicker of memory surfaced, causing me to check my back for my harpoon. It was thankfully there, and I unclipped it from the latches holding it in place. I hefted the massive weapon, the halberd-sized harpoon linked with an enchanted chain to my hip. The four of them glanced at each other before the woman stepped up.
“We are adventurers, and we are currently in the south-western part of Seteria. My name is Celyst, and you are?”
I looked her up and down. She was obviously a battlemage, and held no fear unlike the others. As I hesitated on how to answer, more memories returned, and I knew who I was once more.
“I am Captain Inylsia Volkin of the Seterian wardiver's 1st division, codename ‘Shipwrecker’. It would appear that I have partial amnesia, but I remember a bit. How fares the war against Retirian?”
They all appeared confused except for the male mage, who paled so much I thought he would turn transparent.
“Do you mean the Absolution War? That ended three hundred years ago.” Celyst asked. I cocked my head in confusion. Three hundred? But I remember fragments of the war, commanding my troops and sinking armadas. Then, my last mission, getting ready to dive, and a sharp pain in my chest. I froze. Something must have warned the four, because they rapidly backed away as the area was filled with a red glow. I remembered one other name.
Torin.
The man who betrayed me.
“That algae sucking bastard betrayed me. When I find him, I'll rip that fucking arm right off and disembowl him with a fucking rusty spoon. You, mage with the wizard mark, you know me, don't you?”
My voice rumbled with such pure rage that the sand nearby vibrated. The male mage somehow paled even further, shaking in terror as he gave a very slight nod.
“Do you know a man, a former wardiver, by the name of Torin?”
He nodded again, nearly fainting from fright.
“Does he yet live?”
Another nod.
“Where.”
He fainted. I sighed in irritation, the red glow fading from what I believe was my helmet visor.
“Any of you three know where I can find that cock-sucking mongrel of a betrayer?”
Celyst cleared her throat, drawing my attention.
“While I do not even pretend to know what happened between you two, I would advise against attempting to kill him at the moment. As the last I heard of him, he was the guildmaster of one of the largest coastal cities, Arenon. If you kill him without apparent reason, the Council may put a bounty on you.”
I scoff, another fragment of knowledge drifting back. The Council of Lords, the ruling body of Seteria, composed of the nobles of the country. If the times are anything like the snippets I remember, they will pose little to no threat. Another thing I remember is the system.
“Status.”
-==÷==-
Name: Inylsia Volkin
Race: Animated Armour
Class: Seabound Dreadnought
Titles: Wardiver Captain, Shipwrecker, Siegebreaker, Daughter of The Depths
-
Level: 845
Body: 6,780
Mind: 5,643
Spirit: 13,487
-
Skills: [Open]
Traits: [Open]
-==÷==-
That explains it. I thought to myself, looking at my race. I'm an undead. But what is this title? [Daughter of The Depths]? I focus on it to pull up the description.
-==÷==-
Daughter of The Depths:
You have lived your life at sea, days spent below the surface, and upon your death have been born anew.
Passive Effects: All sea creatures become friendly to you. Water will not slow your movements.
Active Effect: Call upon the fury of the tides, and begin your ascension.
-==÷==-
So that is the cause. But ascension? To what? Worries for later, I guess. I look at the girl and sigh, stowing my harpoon. All of them visibly relax, stowing their own weapons.
“The Council will be no issue. If they are anything like I remember, they are simply leeches sucking the strong dry. The only reason I fought for them was I hated Retirian even more. Tell me, what is the highest level person alive right now?”
The armoured man thought for a moment before responding.
“The highest known level is the Sentinel, the man who defends the border, at somewhere just over five hundred.”
I can't help but snort a laugh at that, the sound extremely strange with my strange echo. He raises an eyebrow in question, and I cross my arms smugly.
“He is little more than a pup compared to me. I'm level 845.” They all pause before looking at me in shock.
“I beg your pardon?”