Chapter 1

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One thing I've learned about Arego over the years is that no matter where you go, whether inside a building or as far away as you can get from the cliffsides—the ocean will always be right outside. The smell of it remains, it sticks to your clothes; you taste the sand on your tongue. And through all that, the inconvenience that tags along with the endless expanse of dark water, I still consider the ocean home.

I've spent nearly my entire life living so close to the ocean that one leap off the cliff and I'd swim, lost to the world and accompanied by only the horrors underneath the mirrored waters. Maybe that's why it's always been home, it was always there and I had no choice but to accept it as a piece of my family. It was, in a way, another member in my heart that I held closely.

The ocean oversaw everything—my training, getaways with my family and friends, the days I felt incomplete and needed the constant reassurance of waves crashing against the rock wall of the cliffsides. Without trying, the ocean was there for me. I didn't have to ask the waters to help; they did that by merely existing, by giving me somewhere to escape to when the stone walls of the village were quickly closing in and suffocating me.

After months of being in the capital, surrounded by people that thought I was less than what I truly am, I can finally say the ocean is wrapped around me once more. The salted air clings to my skin, sand crusts in my hair, the warm breeze pushes against the blue sky and falters the strength of the summer sun is like an embrace I'll never tire of. And one I don't receive often enough.

There's a semblance of home when I look out to the rising sun over the ocean spreading out to the east. The rays stretch over the dark waters and paint gold so darkness never wins. Faint stars give way to the rising flame and sleep, for night is over and day is prepared to take over.

Pink shadows litter the sky and frame the clouds. Below, crashing against the sides of the cliffs, water springs up in waves of chilled mist before crashing back into itself. The breeze carries over that mist and it prickles against my neck, whispering, good morning, every couple minutes as if the greeting will never become tiring.

The distant squawking of birds pecking at the carcasses of fish echoes from here to the village behind me. The cluster of noise feels like home if anything ever did. I was foolish to not realize Arego held a special place in my heart, rather than being a dungeon with no lock. I didn't realize the horrors beyond the village next to the cliffsides and it wasn't until that night, when I lost everything, that I truly realized what I had.

Being back here, my legs crossed underneath me and my hands—gloved—resting gently against my knees, this is home. I've looked and looked, wondering what could hold such a significance in the world, but I should have been looking at what was right in front of me.

So much has changed. I can say that nearly everything has, from the people in the village to the overall look of it. We've always been in the process of building Arego, but we've never had to rebuild it. And not with such an uncertainty that we wonder if it's worth it.

The ocean breeze kisses at my scarlet hair and I tip my head back to allow the mist to wrap around me. With every breath I take, the sun rises higher and higher into the grey-tinted sky and soon, when the stars disappear and the moon waves its final farewell, I'll bask in the warmth of something I never thought I'd see again underneath the presence of my own heart.

I thought that to be the case. When the potion slid down my throat and I saw no hope for what was to happen on the other side, I wondered if I'd ever see the sunrise again. As myself, not as the Roux Aimrey I was turned into.

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