King of the Seven Seas (EMH) Chapter 29: The Grand Prophecy

[Third Person Pov]

After Mera and Arthur both stepped into the swirling aquatic vortex, the chamber fell silent except for the lingering hum of the currents. Dane was bowing at the foot of Vivienne’s throne, his head lowered in reverence. When the last flicker of the vortex vanished, he raised his head back up and said, “Now, my Lady… if you’ll excuse me.”

Vivienne gave a small nod of acknowledgement, her expression calm and composed. “Go. You’ve fulfilled your—”

She abruptly froze. Her voice cracked mid-sentence as if caught by an unseen hand. Her pupils widened, then glowed with an otherworldly azure radiance, bright enough that the markings carved into the coral walls reflected the light back in shimmering sparks. Dane stiffened, his confusion deepening.

“My Lady?” he asked, stepping forward in concern.

Vivienne did not answer. Instead, her lips parted as a voice—her voice, and yet not entirely her own—spilled forth, heavy and echoing with ancient power:

“When the seeker of depth claims the storm-forged spear,

The throne long drowned shall at last reappear.

From salt-crowned silence a ruler will rise,

Bearing the weight of both oceans and skies.

The Chorus of Blue shall whisper his name,

And blood shall bend at the call of his claim.

Through tides uncharted his shadow shall grow,

A god yet unborn in the undertow.

Where worlds drift far on the cosmic divide,

His banner shall flow with the darkening tide.

From abyss to aether his dominion shall ring,

For the wave-bound wanderer becomes the King.”

As the final word left her lips, the glow faded. Vivienne inhaled sharply, steadying herself against the arm of her throne. Dane stared at her, eyes wide, unsure whether to step forward or fall back into a bow.

“A… prophecy?” he said carefully. “Would I be incorrect to assume it concerns the one who just left us?”

Vivienne let out an exhausted chuckle as she massaged the bridge of her nose. “No, you wouldn’t be incorrect. That was indeed a prophecy—one meant for the future King of the Seven Seas. A shame he wasn’t here to hear it himself.”

“A shame indeed,” Dane muttered, shaking his head with a sigh. Yet despite his tone, a small amused grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “It sounds like there’s quite a lot in store for our underwater friend.”

Vivienne didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze drifted toward the far horizon, as though watching distant tides crash against unseen shores. “An understatement,” she murmured. “Prophecies are seldom about mundane matters. They’re warnings—road signs for futures lined with tribulations. And his path… is going to be anything but gentle.”

…

[Location: New York City – Central Park]

The peaceful quiet of the park shattered as a towering column of water burst upward from the center of the lake. Ripples exploded outward, startling joggers, and sending flocks of birds erupting into the sky in frantic spirals.

From the collapsing pillar, Arthur and Mera leapt out gracefully, landing on the grass with practiced ease. Water streamed off them in rivulets, catching the sunlight in scattered droplets. Arthur held his trident at the ready, scanning the area in instinctive caution.

Around them, dozens of parkgoers stared—some frozen mid-step, some fumbling for their phones, some simply gawking with their mouths open as if they had no idea whether to run or simply stay and watch.

Arthur lowered his trident and raised one hand in an awkward half-wave. “Apologies,” he said politely, voice carrying across the stunned crowd. “Please, uh… continue enjoying your warm, pleasant day.”

Mera nudged him sharply with her elbow and shot him a look that said ‘Are you serious?’ Arthur stiffened, swallowed, and whispered back, “What? What do you want me to say? Everyone’s staring at us!”

“How about asking for directions,” Mera said, suppressing a laughter she couldn’t quite hide.

“Okay, fair point… wait here.” Arthur hurried forward—then slowed, then hesitated entirely. He turned toward a nearby bench where a couple sat paralyzed, phones held up halfway, unsure whether to record or pray.

Mera watched him like one would watching a toddler. Arthur came to a halt, blinked, then abruptly spun on his heel and marched straight back to her.

She gave him a teasing smirk. “What’s the matter? Got cold feet at the last second?”

Arthur deadpanned. “No. I just remembered—doesn’t your wrist-thing literally have a map?”

Mera blinked. Then blinked again. She lifted her wrist, tapped the embedded gem, and the device split open with a ripple of water. A holographic globe made entirely of shifting liquid light hovered above it, continents outlined in fluid strokes.

She looked from the map to Arthur, who was wearing the smuggest smirk known to man.

She gently pushed Arthur’s face away with her palm, trying to look annoyed, though the faint warm flush on her cheeks betrayed her entirely. “Due to us being in Otherworld, where the map was relatively useless, I may have forgotten about it.”

“Right~,” Arthur drawled, snorting under his breath as the teasing grin on his face widened.

“Just shut up and let’s go,” Mera said, rolling her eyes. Despite her tone, amusement laced her voice, soft and warm.

“Okay, okay,” Arthur chuckled. He lifted the trident forged by the Spirits, the metal humming with an otherworldly resonance. When he struck the ground, moisture from the air and the lake surged toward them, swirling in beautiful, liquid spirals. In seconds, the water shaped itself into a sleek, gleaming hard-water carriage, complete with fluid contours and transparent walls that refracted the sunlight.

With a gentle command, the construct lifted, then rocketed into the sky.

Below them, everyone in Central Park stared, jaws open, exchanging looks that silently asked the same question: Were they all collectively hallucinating? Some took out their phones, others simply blinked in disbelief as the carriage vanished into the clouds.

Up in the air, Mera studied the carriage’s interior, then glanced at Arthur with a rising brow. “You’re weirdly proficient in creating hard-water constructs.” She tapped one of the carriage’s crystalline edges. “This is your first time creating something like this, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Arthur admitted, adjusting his grip on the trident, “but I’m using a tool to assist me. I can’t take all the credit. The trident helps tremendously. Honestly, I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without it.” He looked at the weapon with thoughtful seriousness. “I said this before, but it really is instinctive. I just thought of the shape I wanted and… the trident did the rest.”

Mera’s expression softened. Without thinking, her hand reached up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing his skin with a gentle sweep. “You’re really too modest and humble for someone who's going to be King.”

“What kind of King would I be if I wasn’t aware of my shortcomings and limitations?” Arthur replied, leaning into her hand with quiet sincerity.

“Look at that. Wise too.” She teased, her smirk returning.

Both of them chuckled, their laughter blending with the sound of rushing wind as the carriage continued its smooth flight path across the sky.

Below, the civilians walking the streets of the eastern coast stopped mid-step, shading their eyes as they spotted the shimmering carriage cutting across the clouds. People inside their homes did comical double takes, peeking out of windows as if expecting the vision to vanish. Some recorded it, others screamed, others simply whispered a frantic, “Did you see that?!”

Thanks to their speed, the journey from New York to Atlanta took barely over an hour. They passed over Washington, Virginia, and the Carolinas before gliding over Georgia’s rolling green landscape, eventually soaring above Midtown Atlanta. Skyscrapers gleamed beneath them, reflecting the golden hue of the late afternoon sun.

Arthur guided the carriage downward. It landed softly on the rooftop of a tall building, and as soon as they stepped out, the construct dissolved into cool mist, dispersing like a fading dream.

Both stood side by side, gazing over the sprawling city beneath them—cars moving like rivers of light, people filling the sidewalks, the distant hum of urban life rising up to meet them.

Arthur exhaled slowly. “Alright, so here’s the plan. First, we get ourselves something decent to wear—preferably clothes that blend in. Then we ask for directions to the nearest art museum.” He turned to Mera, who nodded with a small, confident smile. “We find the museum, find the map, and then we follow the next clue.”

Satisfied, Arthur looked down at the trident in his hands with a small frown. “Now I just have to figure out what to do with this, since I can’t exactly walk around Atlanta carrying a magical ocean-slaying spear…”