The darkness of the night draped over the western sea, a heavy cloak that concealed secrets whispered only in the deepest reaches of the ocean's depths. From the deck of the Januran ship, I watched as the flickering lanterns cast eerie shadows across the faces of those gathered. In front of me stood my king, Utred. His countenance stoic as he spoke with his counterpart from Cireen, King Cyris. For years, I had served in his Majesty’s retinue as a stonemage. As the holder of an indigo gemstone, my ability to detect the use of magic had elevated me to one of my king’s most trusted lieutenants. And from my time at the academy to my adventures in the northern reaches to my royal service, I had seen many sights. Some that few could begin to image. But even I could appreciate the significant of tonight’s meeting. Two kings convening on the seas, accompanied by only a select few trusted advisors and guards, to discuss matters that could shake the realms was not an everyday occurrence. 

The air was thick with tension as the lords spoke, each word weighed with gravity. "My dear Utred," Cyris began, his voice carrying a hint of warmth despite the chill of the night air coming off the water. "Our kingdoms have long been aligned. You and I have long been friends. Our families are bound by the ties of blood. I ask that you look to that and to your rational mind and support me in this endeavour."

Utred regarded him with a measured gaze, his expression unreadable as he listened to Cyris's words. "Your words are kind, Cyris," he replied, his tone guarded. "But you know as well as I that the succession of Cireen is a matter of great import, one that cannot be taken lightly."

Cyris inclined his head in acknowledgement, his gaze met Utred's eyes. Waves hit against the ship’s hull. "Indeed, my friend," he conceded. "The succession is a matter of great concern to us all. And it is for this reason that I have come to seek your support. But you must know that recognising my daughter’s claim is the best way to ensure stability across the realms."

Utred's brow furrowed in thought. “You speak of undoing centuries of tradition Cyris,” he remarked. “Verily, your daughter is a fine woman, capable beyond measure," he paused. "But the fact remains that she is a woman. A woman to rule one of the Skyking’s thrones, to bear one of his jewels? It is unprecedented. Many lords would not accept such a course. Her claim would be challenged at every step. Snakes and vipers will appear from where you most and least expect. And with what movements are being reported on from beyond the heartland, we cannot afford to be anything less than strong. Not Janur. Not Cireen."

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Cyris's expression remained impassive. "I understand your concerns, Utred," he replied, his voice firm. "But I assure you, our interests are aligned. With your support, we can ensure a smooth transition of power and protect our kingdoms from the storm that is to come. And you ought to know better than most, were my line is to die out, worry not about what is happening on the far reaches of the realms, for chaos would sprout from within my very palace."

Utred half nodded in agreement, though his features remained inscrutable as he contemplated Cyris's words. "Very well, Cyris," he conceded, his voice measured. "I will consider your request. I must think on this, but there is merit to your words. But a break from tradition is not something done lightly.”

Cyris offered him a smile. "Thank you, Utred," he said. "But time is of the essence, and we must prepare swiftly."

The conversation continued and the air crackled with tension, each word a subtle reminder of the fragile alliances and hidden agendas that governed their world. The conversation turned to other matters, to trade and commerce and all variety of matters befitting a conversation between kings. 

But before they could finish speaking, a sudden disturbance rippled through the tranquil waters surrounding us. I began to sense the use of magic. How had I missed not sensed this sooner? I shouted, “My lords, hostile magic!” As I spoke, bubbles rose from the depths, their iridescent glow casting an ethereal light upon the faces of those assembled.

"What sorcery is this?" Utred exclaimed, his voice edged with apprehension as he surveyed the scene unfolding before us. 

I remained silent, my mind racing with possibilities as I scanned the horizon for any sign of danger. Could it be the work of the seabound? The answers eluded me. 

Then in a moment a deafening roar echoed through the night and a great rod of water burst forth from the depths. I felt the Januran ship trembled beneath me, its timbers groaning in protest as the immense pressure, before being torn asunder. Shouts erupted from all quarters, drowned out by the roar of the exploding water. Soon I could feel myself airborne along with parts of the ship and the rest of the royal retinues. Moments seemed like an eternity as I scanned for the lords but could see naught. 

"Madness," I murmured as I braced myself for the inevitable pungle into cold depths below. My magic had been too slow. The enemy had been too fast. I closed my eyes as I braced to be swallowed by the water below. But it was not to come. I felt it again. Magic. Through my closed eyes I could see a blinding light from below, following the path left by the wall of water. I strained to open my eyes and confront what was before me. It would be the last thing I saw.