Mini Brain Dumps

If you’re just joining us and haven’t read the beginning of Darkest Depths, you can catch up here: Beginning of the Story

Missed the previous chapter? No problem! You can find it here: Previous Chapter

Trigger Warning: This novel contains references to sexual assault and mental health disorders. Reader discretion is advised.

Oh my gosh! Morgan? What are you doing? A third new chapter post?!?!?!? In a row?

I know! I know! I am a menace haha. (Though don’t get too used to it, okay? I’ve been particularly inspired as of late and I can only write so fast…)

Thank you all, once again, for reading along on my novel here. And yes, we are back with another excerpt. I am so excited to share this with you.

In this chapter we set up a lot of the lore of the fantasy world, so buckle up. Here we go…

Chapter 16:

Soft light filtered through the chamber’s windows, waking Quentin from his slumber. The light danced on the walls, casting intricate patterns that played across his vision. Something else tugged at his senses, a subtle aroma drifting through the water, coaxing him into wakefulness.

With a slow blink Quentin’s eyes focused on the source of the scent. There, on a nearby table, rested a tray adorned with an assortment of items. His stomach rumbled in response, reminding him of a hunger he hadn’t realized he possessed.

Drawing closer to the tray, Quentin’s gaze fell upon a creamy substance, resembling yogurt in texture and appearance. Curiously, he reached out and dipped his fingers into it, scooping up a small portion and bringing it to his lips.

The taste was unlike anything he had experienced before – creamy and rich, with a subtle hint of sweetness that danced on his tongue. Quentin found himself scooping up more of the mysterious substance, savoring its unique flavor. As he finished the last spoonful, he heard the gentle swish of water. Turning, he saw Elysia gliding into the chamber with a serene smile on her face.

“Good morning,” Elysia said, her voice echoing softly through the water. “I see you’ve found your breakfast.”

Quentin nodded. “Yes, it was good,” he replied, gesturing towards the tray. “What exactly was I eating?”

Elysia’s smile widened as she approached the table. “That, my friend, is a delicacy called shellsea custard,” she explained, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s made from seashells.”

His face contorted. “Seashells?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Elysia nodded, her laughter bubbling beneath the surface of her words. “Yes, the finely ground shells add a unique flavor and texture to the custard. It’s a favorite among us merfolk.

Quentin glanced back at the tray; his curiosity piqued despite his initial hesitation. “Well, it was surprisingly delicious,” he admitted. “I guess I’ll have to get used to the local cuisine.”

Elysia chuckled softly. “Indeed, you will. But don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Quentin marveled at the easy reassurance in Elysia’s tone. As he looked around his room, he realized just how much had changed in such a short span of time. Things were different here. It was a world unlike any he had ever known, filled with wonder and mystery.

A sudden realization dawned on him. “My name is Quentin by the way.,” he said breaking the momentary silence.

Elysia’s smile widened, her eyes bright with warmth. “It’s nice to meet you Quentin,” she said, bowing her head slightly. Her gaze softened, a hint of warmth in her eyes. “Now that you’ve had your breakfast, it’s time for some lessons.”

Quentin furrowed his brows in confusion. “Lessons?”

“Yes,” Elysia confirmed, gliding closer to him. “We need to help you get accustomed to your new body. Swimming with a tail isn’t quite the same as with legs.”

Quentin nodded slowly. “I suppose not,” he murmured, casting a glance down at his shimmering tail.

Elysia reached out a hand, her touch gentle as she guided him through the water. “Come, let’s start with some basic swimming exercises.”

The water resisted him, dragging on every awkward flick of his new tail. His muscles, unused to this strange weightlessness, screamed in protest. Elysia’s voice echoed in his ears – “Let the water support you” – but it was easier said than done. Every movement felt wrong, as if his body no longer belonged to him.

Though he tried his best to not let his frustration show, the gnawing in his gut intensified. The sea was supposed to be a part of him, but right now, it felt like a prison. He kicked harder, which only served to send him catapulting into the wall, the sharp bite of the coral digging into his shoulder. He breathed out sharply, pushing himself up again, a clumsy stroke barely moving him forward. The urge to give up crawled itself into his throat, but then he saw Elysia standing by the door hands clasped in front of her, with a smile.

“You’re getting better,” she encouraged softly.

Quentin doubted she was telling the truth.

For hours they practiced. Quentin focused intently, willing himself to adapt to this new way of moving through the water. He kicked his tail with more purpose, feeling the resistance of the water against his scales.

He took a deep breath and focused on his breathing, allowing himself to relax and surrender to the embrace of the ocean. Slowly, he began to find his rhythm, his movements becoming more fluid and coordinated with each passing moment. As they swam together, Elysia offered corrections and encouragement. With each stroke and kick, Quentin felt his confidence growing.

As Quentin adjusted to the weightlessness of the underwater world, his muscles tensed and relaxed with the rhythm of each stroke. The sensation of movement through the water was both exhilarating and disorienting. Gliding effortlessly alongside Elysia, Quentin couldn’t help the surge of curiosity bubbling within him.

Quentin found himself gasping for breath. With each stroke of his tail, Quentin felt the water part beneath him, the resistance a strange yet satisfying feeling. His muscles were still sore from the exertion, but a strange sense of control began to settle in. Yet, even as he adapted to this new form, there was a part of him that ached for his legs, for the familiar weight of boots on solid ground.

His muscles burned with fatigue. As he caught his breath, he couldn’t help his attention being drawn to the window, to the world outside.

“Elysia…” Quentin spoke, his voice resonating softly through the water, “…can you tell me more about all of this?” he said, gesturing to the world around them.

Elysia turned to Quentin, her eyes shimmering with understanding. She nodded and pushed him gently to a stone that had been fashioned into a stool. She took the one opposite him. “I’m going to tell you the story of the merfolk, and will try to answer as many questions as I can, okay?”

Quentin nodded.

“A long time ago…” Elysia began. “There lived a girl named Nareza. Nareza was born to a family of fisherman, but she possessed a gift beyond the ordinary. From a young age, she displayed an uncanny affinity with water, a natural talent that surpassed mere skill. She could coax fish from the depths with but a whisper, calm storms with a point of a finger, and weave intricate patterns in the waves with a flick of her wrist.

One fateful day, Nareza was captured by a notorious pirate crew led by the ruthless Captain Varek. The pirates, lured by tales of her rumored magical abilities sought to exploit her powers for their own gain. Despite her protests and struggles, Nareza was taken aboard their ship, the Black Leviathan, and sailed from her home.

In captivity, Nareza endured unimaginable cruelty at the hands of the pirates. Her spirit was shattered, her trust betrayed, and in her anguish, Nareza surrendered herself to the sea, intertwining her essence with its depths. The gods took pity on her and transformed her into a mermaid. Upon reawakening, she merged her powers with the ocean, crafting a spell that would transform those who shared a fate that was like hers a second chance. And thus, she birthed a legacy of merfolk.”

“Nareza… a mermaid?” Quentin said in disbelief. Mermaids didn’t exist. “But that’s not… I mean, I’m not…”

Elysia’s eyes met his, understanding dawning in their depths. “You’re different. You’re an Aquamorph.”

“Aquamorph?” Quentin repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. The word felt foreign, like it belonged in a myth, not in his reality.

Elysia nodded, her eyes soft but serious. “Yes. You’re part human and part merfolk,”

Elysia explained gently. “A rarity, born of a union between the sea and the shore.” She paused, watching his face carefully. “Few like you exist. Fewer still survive.”

A cold shiver ran down his spine at her words. His mind raced. He had been thrust into this new world, his body foreign to him, his very existence now tied to something he had never knew existed. Survive? His heart pounded in his chest. “Survive? What do you mean?”

Elysia’s gaze grew more somber, the lightness in her tone from earlier gone. She took a deep breath, her eyes hardening. “People do not trust what they don’t understand, Quentin. They fear it.

Quentin stared at her, his throat tightening. “Fear me? I haven’t done anything.”

“It doesn’t matter what you’ve done,” Elysia said, her voice steady “What matters is what you represent. To merfolk, you are a disruption to the natural order of things. An Aquamorph can cross boundaries that were never meant to be crossed.” She paused, her gaze flickering to the door as if someone might overhear. “Some see that as power… and power is always dangerous.”

Quentin felt a cold sweat break out, despite the water surrounding him. The thought of being feared, of being hunted, tightened around him like a noose. “But… what does that mean for me?” His voice wavered, his fingers brushing against the glittering scales on his tail as if they might disappear.

“The land will call to you, and so will the sea. But neither will fully accept you. You’re a part of both, but at the same time, an outsider to each.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t want any of this.”
Elysia’s gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something behind her eyes—regret, perhaps. She floated closer, her voice quieter now. “No one chooses this, Quentin. The sea takes what it will. You can fight it…” She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. “…but you know it’s already part of you.”

“How… how does an aquamorph come into existence? What makes me so special?”
Elysia sighed, a heaviness settling over her features. “The sea is unforgiving, Quentin. We live forever, but we can’t create life the way humans do. Only those who carry the touch of both worlds are born of the ocean’s embrace.”

Elysia paused, letting the weight of her words sink in before continuing. “Nature works in mysterious ways. No one truly knows why Aquamorphs exist. Some say it’s the ocean’s way of preserving balance. Others believe it’s to protect the innocent, to offer a second chance where others are denied.”

“So… my mom was a mermaid?” Quentin asked, amazed.

Elysia nodded solemnly. “Yes, she was a mermaid.”

He shook his head. “None of this can be real.”

Yet, as Elysia’s words began to sink in, a chilling realization came to his mind. My mother… she wasn’t my real mother, he realized with a jolt. The woman who had raised him, loved him, nurtured him – she wasn’t his real mother.

Quentin’s mind swirled with the memory of his mother’s gentle laugh, the way she’d hum as she stitched up his torn clothes by the fireplace. He thought of the nights she’d sit beside his bed, telling him stories of far-off lands and oceans he’d never seen. How many of those moments had been built on a lie?

He looked down at his tail, still marveling at the scales that glittered like jewels in the soft light. “Am I… the only one?”

Elysia hesitated for a brief moment before shaking her head. “No, you are not the only one. Quentin. You are rare—so rare that only a few have existed throughout history. There have been others, and there are others now. But each Aquamorph is unique, and each of you has a different path to walk. Your connection to both worlds give you a power that neither humans nor merfolk alone possess.”

She met his eyes, her expression growing more serious. “Throughout history, Aquamorphs have been the key to peace between the land and the sea. Some have served as diplomats, others as protectors, and some… well, they’ve been the cause of conflict too. There’s power in being able to walk both realms, and that power often comes with responsibility.”

Quentin’s heart sank slightly. “So, my life on land… everything I knew, my family… it’s all gone?”

Elysia’s expression grew more solemn. “You haven’t lost everything, Quentin. But your life will never be the same. The land may call to you again, but the sea… the sea will always be a part of you now.”

He felt a weight settle in his chest, an unshakable sense of duty he hadn’t asked for. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want any of this.”

Elysia placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle but firm. But as she spoke, Quentin noticed a flicker in her eyes. “No one ever does, Quentin. But the sea chose you for a reason. You are a part of something much bigger than you can imagine,’ she continued, though her words now felt rehearsed, as though they were lines she had repeated many times before.

She paused; her gaze distant for a moment. “Nareza once thought she was nothing more than a fisherman’s daughter. But when the ocean called her, she became something greater. You, too, will find your place in this vast world. But you must be patient and trust in the journey ahead.”

The weight of her words hung heavily between them, and Quentin felt a mixture of fear, curiosity, and the undeniable pull of destiny.

Quentin’s mind raced with questions. “But how? How does a mermaid…”

“The birthing is conventional,” Elysia interrupted gently. “We lack the ability to transform into human form, despite what some might think. The child is removed surgically from the abdomen when the time is right,” Elysia explained.

Quentin’s thoughts whirled with the weight of the newfound truth. “But why was I not raised here then?”

Elysia’s gaze shifted momentarily, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her robes. “The child, once born, is human. It is never guaranteed that a child will become an Aquamorph.” Her voice grew quieter, almost as if she were weighing her words carefully. “They are usually left at the docks of some seaside town, and we hope that some kind strangers will take them in and raise them as their own.”

Quentin’s eyes narrowed. Hope? The word gnawed at him. “You hope? What happens if they don’t?”

For the briefest moment, Elysia’s face darkened, a shadow flickering behind her eyes. “It… doesn’t always go as planned. Not every child is found in time. And even those who are… well, the sea doesn’t call to everyone. You live as humans, unaware of your heritage until fate intervenes.”

“Fate?” Quentin’s voice cracked.

“You must face death.” Elysia explained quietly.

The words hit Quentin like a physical blow. He recoiled, his mind scrambling to process what she had just said. “I… died?” His heart raced, a wave of nausea rising within him.
Elysia nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes. The moment you were taken by the sea, the ocean gave you a second chance.”

Quentin’s pulse pounded in his ears, his mind spinning in a storm of confusion. Everything he had fought for, the life he had lived—it was all gone. What was he now? A corpse animated by some ancient magic? The ground beneath his feet felt as though it was slipping away, and he struggled to catch his breath.

“No,” he whispered. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real.”

---

Elysia had left Quentin alone to process the information, sensing the turmoil within him. Now, as he drifted in the gentle embrace of the water, he found himself grappling with a myriad of emotions. The revelation that he had died and been reborn sat heavily on his chest, casting a shadow over the wonder if his newfound existence.

An Aquamorph? The word echoed in his mind, carrying with it a weight he struggled to comprehend. It was a label he never imagined for himself, He had always thought himself ordinary, just another human navigating the complexities of life.

But now, everything had changed. He was part of a world he had never known existed, a world of merfolk, and magic. And yet, even as he struggled to come to terms with his new reality, another question haunted him. Did his mother know?

Thoughts of his mother flooded his mind, memories of her tender smile and comforting embrace mingling with the sharp sting of betrayal. She had kept this from him, hidden the truth of his origins behind a veil of love and lies. Why? Why had she never told him that he was not her biological child?

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to surrender to the soothing rhythm of the ocean. But even in the depths of his turmoil, a flicker of curiosity stirred within him. He pondered the nature of his rebirth. Was it fate, as Elysia had suggested? Or was there something more, something waiting to be discovered?

---

The next day, Elysia returned to Quentin’s room. He turned as she entered.

“Elysia,” he greeted. “I’ve been thinking…”

Elysia offered him a gentle smile. “I know, Quentin,” she replied, her voice a soothing melody in the underwater silence. “It’s natural to have questions, especially after everything you’ve learned.”

Quentin nodded. “I want to know more,” he said.

“Of course,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “But first, there’s someone I think you’d like to see.”

Quentin’s heart quickened with anticipation as he followed Elysia from the room, eager to escape the confines of his chamber.

As they navigated the winding corridors of the castle, Quentin’s curiosity got the better of him. “Elysia,” he began, “how do these lanterns work?”

Elysia glanced back at him, a small smile playing on her lips. “Ah, the lanterns,” she replied. “They hold bioluminescent algae within them. When agitated, the algae emit light, providing illumination through the castle.”

Quentin watched in fascination as Elysia tapped the side of a lantern, causing the algae to shimmer and cast patterns of light across the hallways. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured.
Elysia continued to lead him through a labyrinth of twisting passages until they arrived at a door adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from the ocean’s depths.
“Here we are,” she said, her eyes meeting Quentin’s.

With trembling hands, Quentin pushed open the door. Inside, he found himself face to face with a young woman with a head of flaming hair. She looked the same, yet different. Her face remained familiar, the splash of freckles across her nose drawing his gaze.
Her tail shimmered in the low light, but the sight of it didn’t carry the beauty Quentin expected. There was something off, a stiffness to the way she held herself, a forced stillness in her movements that spoke of tension she was trying hard to hide. The once fiery spark in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by a wariness that made Quentin’s stomach twist.

“Hello, Mr. Hayes,” Cate said, her voice clipped, as if she were trying to maintain some distance between them. Her eyes flickered over him, assessing, guarded, before she cast a quick glance at her own tail, as if reminding herself of what she had become.

Quentin’s heart clenched at the sight of her distress as he swam closer. “Hello, Miss Sinclair,” he said softly.

---

Quentin was made to wait in the hall, his mind racing with questions and concerns as Elysia talked to Cate. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there were pieces of the puzzle missing – what happened to the Sovereign? To the crew? To Captain Reynolds and Jack Finncrest? The uncertainty gnawed at him, fueling his restless thoughts.
As he leaned against the wall, observing the merfolk passing by, Quentin couldn’t help but wonder about their stories. Were any of them like him, transformed into an Aquamorph, or did they have different origins?

When Elysia finally emerged from the room, Quentin’s anxiety spiked. “Is she okay?” he asked urgently.

Elysia’s response was measured, her smile tempered with a somber undertone. “Physically, she’s fine,” she reassured him. “But adjusting to this new reality will take time. It’s a journey for her, just as it is for you.”

Swimming back to Quentin’s room, the weight of the revelation about Cate hung heavy in the air. “Is she like me, and Aquamorph?” Quentin ventured, his voice tinged with curiosity and a flicker of hope.

Elysia’s gaze turned serious as she met his eyes. ‘No,’ she replied softly, her voice dropping to a near whisper, as if saying the word carried too much weight.

Quentin froze his eyes widened in surprise. Cate, the fiery-haired girl he had known from the surface world, was not like him. Cate was a child of the sea now – a trueborn descendant of Nareza. The fire-haired girl who had once shouted orders at him on deck, who had always carried herself with a fierce independence… had been a victim of assault. And not only that, but she had been transformed into a mermaid against her will. Ripped from the life she had once knew. And as Quentin looked back down the hall towards her room door, her wondered just how much of Cate has been lost to the sea.

“A word of caution, Quentin,” Elysia said, looking at him hard. “We all have our stories. She will tell you hers when and if she is ever ready.”

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