Dark Waters Rising

Offering

"You can do this," Valentine muttered to himself as he spotted the massive silhouette of the Kraken emerging from the distance. The egg in his hands was gooey, and the creature beneath the clear membrane wriggled as it sensed its mother's approach. 

He fought the urge to turn tail and flee. The last time he'd seen the beast, he'd been swallowed by it and woke up in Hell. Seeing it again brought back terrible memories and feelings that made him feel weak and helpless all over again. 

But he had to be strong. There were so many people depending on him. 

A series of eerie chirps and clicks echoed through the water around him. 

Valentine braced himself as the Kraken's mantle slowed to a halt before him and turned to reveal a massive eye.

He held the egg up, a peace offering he hoped would sate her.

"I'm sorry for what my people have done to you and your young," he said nervously. "I hope that this can be the first step toward a better future."

One of her tentacles curled forward, the tip gently wrapping itself around her unborn child. Valentine let go of the egg as its mother got a good grip on it. She pulled her tentacle back and safely cradled the egg in a protective mess of her limbs. 

More chirps filled the sea.

"I don't know if you remember me," he said, not knowing if she could understand his words, "but I know we have both suffered under the hand of the Aurelian King. I understand that you may not wish to fight now that you have your child to protect, but I have hope that you may aid in the removal of the tyrant king, so that he may not hurt anyone else with his abuse of power."

Silence stretched through the water, and being as she was so close to him, the siren reached out and placed a hesitant hand flat on her rubbery, smooth mantle.

"Valentine Cross," a feminine voice drifted to his mind. "I remember."

Valentine's eyes widened, the voice shaking him to the core.

"I hear you," he said. "I understand you... how?"

"Connected," was all she said, though Valentine thought he understood the meaning. She had been his demise, and now that he'd been resurrected, there was a sort of bond between them. A tether. "Thank you," she said, and Valentine could tell she was referring to her young. 

"It was the right thing to do," he replied. "No one deserves that fate."

There was silence again for a while as the Kraken thought, watching him with her great yellow eye. After what felt like an eternity, she spoke.

"What do you need?"

----+------+----

It wasn't hard to get forces into the palace with the Kraken occupying most of the Aurelian army's attention. 

Valentine had met back up with Calloway and a healthy handful of their recruits after his encounter, briefly sharing the good news before directing them to the next task: infiltrating the King's lair. Swarms of rebellious soldiers entered the castle and basically cleared a path for the bastard prince and his companions. 

It seemed, altogether, that the palace was unprepared for an invasion. Perhaps it was because his father had been too cocky to think they'd actually dare to attack him. Perhaps it was because the Kraken had scattered them. Either way, Valentine would not complain. 

The few guards they encountered either were fought off by his companions, surrendered, or fled at the first sight of the party moving through the halls. 

Valentine gripped his brother's trident as his anxiety grew. Once they found the King, he knew everyone around him expected him to kill his father. 

He wasn't sure if he was capable of patricide. 

Sure he had envisioned it for years, craved it even, but it seemed like every time he came face to face with his father, he became that same scared little boy again, powerless against a King. His skin still bared scars from his childhood. His father had not been a kind man. He had no love for his bastard son, and used every opportunity he could to remind him of that. 

It was a miracle he had survived at all, and he was sure that the man now regretted not killing him when he was a helpless child. He'd come close several times, but something had always stopped him. Valentine figured it must've been that one shred of humanity that refused to die in the man's sick, twisted mind.

Steeling himself, Valentine decided that the King must die, and that he must be the one to do it. He wouldn't place that burden on anyone else. 

Shouting from ahead drew his attention. By the sounds of it, some of the rebellion soldiers had found the King. 

Valentine rushed into the throne room. A quick assessment of the room showed that all of the guards had been apprehended by his people. By the looks of it, not many had put up much of a fight. 

The King sat in a lonely throne, his back straight and his expression unwavering. 

"Valentine," he said in a dead tone when lavender eyes locked with gold. 

The man looked awful. His cheeks were sunken, his hair dull and lifeless, and his skin looked grey and old compared to what Valentine had expected. He looked weak, and the twitching in his fingers, eyes, and tail revealed his instability. 

Gold eyes swept over the trident in Valentine's hands and shone with recognition. "So you've killed two of your brothers and now you've come to kill me?"

Valentine gripped the trident harder. 

"Yes," he said plainly, knowing there was no point in arguing with him over the circumstances of Marius's death all those years ago. 

"Then do it," he said.

Valentine, along with his troupe, slowly crept closer. 

"Where's the Queen?" Valentine asked warily, not trusting the situation. 

The King laughed humorlessly. "Didn't you hear? I killed her."

Valentine's lips turned into a frown. 

"She was going to leave me."

Valentine got the sense that his father was no longer present. His mind had gone nearly completely, and the cause of his appearance was no doubt the loss of his mate taking a toll on his physical and mental health. 

By this time, Valentine's trident was nearly against the King's chest. He was unarmed. He was uncaring. 

"Any last words?" Valentine found himself asking out of courtesy for the once powerful man. 

"You're not worthy of this throne," one last bit of malace crept into his tone.

"I know," Valentine responded. 

The pirate part of Valentine took over then. The ruthless part that killed with clear conscious. The trident pierced the King's body with little resistance, impaling his heart and sucking the life out of the feeble man in moments. 

Valentine felt it was a mercy to kill the man. One he didn't deserve nearly as much as his people did. 

Dropping the trident as his father slumped in death, Valentine turned to his people and declared, "It is done. It is over."

And the people cheered. 

----+------+----

A/N

Guys, there's only like two chapters left.

Question: what is your favorite scent? Mine is probably either freshly baked bread, fresh chocolate chip cookies, or vanilla.

See you Friday,
-Mora Montgomery