Mini Brain Dumps

As we approach the end of the year, this will be the last chapter I post of the Darkest Depths in 2024….

Over the past couple of months I have loved watching the characters evolved. From figments of my imagination to full blown characters with experiences, evolution, and growth.

2024 has been a year of exploration for me, both with my novel and with the process of sharing it with all of you and I am so grateful for the opportunity I have to share Quentin’ story with you.

I hope you enjoy this final chapter for the year. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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.

Chapter 22:

The ocean, vast and teeming with life, unfolded before Cate and Quentin. With each graceful stroke of their fins, they journeyed through a mesmerizing realm where vibrant coral reefs stretched out in kaleidoscopic splendor, painting the underwater landscape with hues of crimson, gold, and emerald. Schools of fish, in a synchronized ballet of motion, darted around them, their scales caching the faint glimmers of sunlight that filtered down from above.

Passing through towering kelp forests, Cate and Quentin found themselves enveloped in a world of greenery, the long fronds swaying gently in the currents like ethereal dancers. Among the kelp’s dense foliage, they glimpsed the playful antics of dolphins, their sleek forms darting in and out of view with effortless grace. At one point, one appeared in front of them and blew a bubble ring at them before swimming away quickly, only to appear behind them to nip at their tails playfully. They laughed, patting the dolphin on the head as it chattered at them before taking off with its friends.

Sea turtles glided gracefully through the water above them, their movements slow and serene in the calm water. At one point they saw a whale overhead and ensured to give the giant beast a wide berth for fear that they may mistakenly be swallowed.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, the shadows danced and shifted, revealing the elusive movements of an octopus. Its sinuous tentacles undulated, disappearing, and reappearing among the tangled strands like a phantom of the deep. Cate and Quentin watched as the creature transformed its shape, blending seamlessly with its surroundings.

“I wish I could do that,” Quentin said as he pressed himself against some kelp and closed his eyes as if he were concentrating all his willpower on shifting. “Is it working?”

Cate crossed her arms in front of her and stared at him. “Nope… it just looks like you need to go to the bathroom,” she said, her eyebrows raised at him.

Quentin opened his eyes and looked at her, a small smile whispered on her lips. “Dang. Thought I had it,” he said. “What’s the point of being an Aquamorph if I can’t shift into anything I want to?”

Cate uncrossed her arms and kept moving. “At least you can become human again. I’m stuck like this forever… literally.”

Quentin felt a pang in his chest. “I… I’m sorry,” he said, hurrying to catch up to her.
She waved her hand at him dismissively. “It is what it is.”

Hours slipped by unnoticed as they journeyed deeper into the abyssal depths, where the ocean’s embrace grew colder and more profound with each passing meter. Yet, undeterred by the darkness that surrounded them, Cate and Quentin pressed on, their senses alive with every subtle shift in the water.

Quentin’s imagination was ignited by the faint glow of creatures that cast eerie shadows across the ocean floor, each shadow whispering tales of ancient sea myths and forgotten treasures. Beside him, Cate moved with a grace born of familiarity, her movements fluid and purposeful as she navigated the ever-changing currents.

As they swam on, the darkness seemed to intensify, wrapping around them like a cloak. Yet, even in the depths of the abyss, they found comfort in the beauty that surrounded them – a beauty that transcended the boundaries of their imagination.

Midst the obsidian expanse, a faint glimmer of light caught their eyes – a subtle otherworldly glow that beckoned them forward. They pressed. And as they drew closer, a shadowy silhouette gradually took form.

At first, it appeared as little more than a shadow, a mere trick of the light playing upon the water. But as they drew closer, the silhouette slowly took form, revealing itself to be a mass of weathered wood and twisted metal, its surface adorned with strange protrusions and tangled strands of seaweed.

“Look!” Quentin’s voice broke through the silence.

But Cate was already gone, propelled forward by a surge of energy as she dated through the water, leaving Quentin alone.

Quentin, momentarily stunned by the sight before him, snapped out of his reverie as he saw Cate darting ahead. With a sense of urgency, he kicked his fins into action, his movements swift as he attempted to close the distance between them. But try as he might, Cate’s swift pace seemed to elude him, her form swiftly disappearing into the darkness ahead.

“Wait up!” he yelled, his voice falling on deaf ears.

As he approached, he realized that it was a ship, or what remained of one – a relic lost to the depths of time and the relentless embrace of the ocean. Its hull, once proud and sturdy, was now weathered and worn, its timbers softened from exposure to the elements. Though encrusted with barnacles and algae, there was a certain elegance to the vessel – a timeless beauty that transcended the confines of mortal existence.

But then, as if guided by some unseen force, Quentin’s gaze fell upon the figurehead. It was expertly carved from the same oak that had once formed the ship’s sturdy hull. The mane of hair framing its noble face with waves of intricately carved curls. As Quentin’s eyes locked onto the lion’s fierce gaze, the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. The memories flooded back to him – the moonlit night in Marielle, the seasickness, of the night he met Cate.

“The Sovereign,” Quentin whispered, his voice barely audible.

Cate had already reached the ship, her form silhouetted against its ghostly outline. She hovered near the mast, her gaze fixed on the remnants of tattered sails that fluttered faintly. The once-proud mast, now weathered and worn, stood as a testament to the passage of time, its skeletal form reaching towards the surface as if yearning for the open sky once more.

As Quentin drew nearer, he could see the way Cate’s eyes scanned the surroundings, absorbing every detail of the ship around her. Her gaze seemed to linger on every detail of the ship, as if committing each weathered plank and rusted bolt to memory. Quentin joined her, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight before him.

Together, they floated in silence, suspended in a moment that transcended time itself. It was as if the ghostly whispers of past voyages echoed through the silent corridors. Each creak and groan of the ship seemed to speak volumes, a testament to the trials and triumphs of their old home.

Their reverie was broken by a faint glow emanating from near the figurehead at the bow, its ethereal light casting intricate shadows against the weathered wood. It beckoned to them. Intrigued, they cautiously made their way toward it.

Quentin’s gaze fixed on the figurehead, its majestic form towering above them like a silent guardian of the deep. Quentin’s gaze fixated on the intricate carving adorning the figurehead. “Look at this,” he murmured. “There are symbols here, carved into the wood.”

Cate leaned in closer, her breath hitching slightly as she examined it. “Those weren’t there before,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers tracing the lines of symbols as if trying to decipher their hidden meaning. “I’m certain.”

Quentin furrowed his brow, a sense of unease gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Cate shot him a pointed glare, her resolve unyielding. “I practically lived on this ship for a decade,” she stated. “I’m sure.”

“How did they get there?” Quentin pondered aloud, his mind racing.

Cate shook her head, her expression troubled. “I don’t know,” Cate admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

As they stood before the figurehead, the subtle glow of the symbols lit their faces, illuminating the uncertainty that lingered in the depths of their souls. Each stroke seemed to pulse with a hidden energy, whispering secrets that remained tantalizingly out of reach.

Quentin’s mind buzzed with questions, each one a knot tightening in his stomach. What did the symbols signify? How had they appeared on the figurehead of their ship? And, most importantly, what did they mean?

Cate’s gaze remained fixed on the carvings; her brow furrowed in concentration. Despite her years of sailing the seas, the enigmatic carving eluded her.

“We need to find out what these symbols mean,” Quentin declared his voice resolute as he turned to Cate. “There must be someone who can help us.”

Cate nodded. “Agreed,” she replied, her voice firm. “But first, we need to explore the rest of the ship. There may be some clues.”

With a shared sense of purpose, they turned away from the figurehead and began their exploration of the ship. As they ventured deeper into the bowels of the ship, their tails swishing gently behind them, the sound magnified by the silence of the corridors, Quentin’s mind was filled with memories. The crew bounding up and down these very halls, the laughter of Thomas in the galley. He could almost smell the salty tang of the briny ocean air.

Their journey led them to the crew cabin, a camped space filled with the remnants of the past. Tattered hammocks hung from the ceiling, their frayed edges swaying in the faint current that flowed through the room. Wooden chests lined the walls, their contents scattered haphazardly across the floor.

Quentin’s heart quickened. He began to rummage through the wreckage, praying he may be able to find it. His eyes fell upon a small wooden carving nestled among a pile of worn blankets, its intricate details catching the faint light filtering through the porthole. He reached out and picked it up, the familiar weight of the carving comforting in his hands.

“My mom got this for me when I was five,” he said quietly. “Right after my dad died.”

Cate’s eyes softened as she took in the carving, her hand resting gently on Quentin’s shoulder. “He would be proud of you,” she said gently. “Though I’m sure he’d still give you a hard time about your terrible knot-tying skills.”

Quentin chuckled, a fond warmth spreading through him despite her playful jab. “Hey now, I’ve improved,” he replied, shooting her a mock-offended glance. “Besides, I seem to recall you struggling with that sailor’s hitch.”

Cate rolled her eyes, the corners of her lips twitched. “That was one time,” she retorted, her tone laced with mock indignation. “And it was an exceptionally stubborn rope.”

Quentin grinned mischievously. “Ah, so the rope met an admiral adversary,” he quipped, earning an exasperated laugh from Cate.

His fingers traced the familiar contours of the ship’s hull, feeling the smoothness of the word beneath his touch. Memories flooded back to him – of his mother’s gentle hands guiding his own, of laughter and stories shared beneath the starry sky. Quentin cradled the carving in his hands, his eyes burning as they filled with tears. He held it closely to his chest before slipping it into his satchel. With the carving safely tucked away, they continued their exploration of the ship.

With each stroke of their tails, Quentin’s memories came alive, painting vivid images of his exploits aboard the Sovereign. He remembered the thrill of hoisting the sails, the exhilaration of navigating the treacherous waters, and the camaraderie forged with his crewmates.

As Cate and Quentin explored the remainder of the ship, a distant rumbling broke the eerie silence, sending a shiver down their spines. The noise grew louder, and soon, they discerned a rhythmic thud echoing through the wooden corridors.

“What do you think that is?” Quentin whispered, glancing nervously at Cate.

Cate strained to listen. “I’m not sure,” she replied. “We should be careful though.”

When they reached the captain’s quarters, Quentin paused, his hand resting on the word wooden door. He could almost hear the echoes of Cate’s voice issuing commands.

With a deep breath, Quentin pushed open the door, revealing a space frozen in time. The captain’s quarter still bore traces of its former glory. Quentin’s gaze swept over the room, lingering on the ornate furniture – the captain’s desk strewn with charts and navigational instruments, the bunk adorned with tattered blankets and pillows, and the shelves lined with trinkets and moments of past voyages.

Cate’s breath caught in her throat. Quentin followed closely behind her.

She moved to stand before the captain’s desk, her fingers trailing lightly over its weathered surface. “I used to sit here for hours,” she said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “Pouring over charts, plotting our course.”

Quentin watched her, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You must have seen some incredible things,” he remarked, his eyes lingering on her face.

Cate nodded; her gaze distant as she recalled the countless voyages she had embarked upon. “The sea has a way of revealing its secrets to those who dare to seek them,” she said, her voice filled with quiet reverence. “But it also holds its fair share of challenges.”

Quentin moved to stand beside her. “You have faced them all with courage and grace,” he said, his voice sincere. “I admire you, Cate. More than you know.”

Cate turned to look at him, her emerald eyes sparkling. “Thank you, Quentin,” she said. “That means a lot to me.

Quentin stepped back, running his hand through his hair as he felt his cheeks warm. Cate turned away, approaching the shelves, and moving some of the items aside to reveal the outline of a hidden door.

“I’ve always wondered what was in here,” Cate mused, her voice echoing softly against the stillness in the ship. With a look of determination, she pressed against the indentation, triggering the pressure mechanism.

“Let’s hope it’s not a cursed chest that’ll haunt us forever,” Quentin mumbled.

With a faint creak, the compartment door opened, swinging wide to reveal its long-concealed contents. Quentin’s eyes widened as they peered into the darkness. Cate’s breath caught in her throat as she beheld the artifacts laid out before them.
Quentin joined her side. “This is incredible,” he breathed.

Among the artifacts were intricate carvings and delicate jewelry, each piece more intricate then the last. Cate reached forward, grabbing a small necklace from within. Cate examined it closely, taking in the simple swirling patterns reminiscent of the ocean’s currents. It was by far the least impressive piece in the captain’s collection.
Quentin peered over her shoulder as he examined the necklace. “Quite different from all the others, isn’t it?” Quentin remarked.

“Sometimes there is beauty in the simplest of things,” Cate said. She examined the necklace for a moment longer, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I think I’ll hold on to this,” she said, placing the necklace in her satchel.

Quentin felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, a warmth spreading through his chest.
“We should probably get out of here,” she said, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into her face.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Quentin replied.

He cast a quick glance around the room, taking one last moment to reminisce about his time aboard the Sovereign before saying goodbye one again. He felt a sense of gratitude wash over him for the experiences he had aboard the ship, the friendships he had forged. But as the weight of reality settled upon his shoulders, he knew that it was time to bid farewell to the past and embrace the uncertainty of the present.

As they made their way through the passages of the ship, making their way to the deck, his fingers trailed along the smooth surface of the word. He felt the grain of the wood beneath his touch, each know and imperfection a reminder of his tumultuous journey.
Lost in his reflections, Quentin was jolted back to the present when a flicker of movement caught his eye. His heart skipped a beat as he froze in his tracks, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Instinctively, his hand went to his trident, as he scanned the corridor.

“We’re not alone,” he said, his heart racing.

Cate’s gaze followed his, and her breath caught in her throat ash she spotted the shadowy silhouette gliding towards them. It was a small predator, its sleek form slicing effortlessly through the water. Its bioluminescent scales cast an eerie blue green glow that lit up the corridor. Its eyes gleamed with predatory intent. Its teeth glinting menacingly as it approached.

Quentin pulled his trident out as he swam in front of Cate, his eyes locking on the approaching creature. “Stay behind me,” he instructed, his voice firm.
Cate huffed. “You stay behind me,” she said, pushing in front of him, her trident ready to strike.

Quentin rolled his eyes but scanned the murky depths around them, his eyes fell upon a glint of reflected light amidst the debris of the sunken ship. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, grasping the reflective piece of metal in his hand. With a sense of urgency, he held it aloft, angling it just so to catch the faint glimmers of bioluminescent light that danced through the water.

With a deft twist and turn of the mirror, Quentin began to create dazzling flashes of reflected light that rippled and shimmered around the surrounding darkness. The once dim abyss was now illuminated with bursts of brilliance, casting mesmerizing patterns across the ship’s walls.

The once dimly lit abyss now flowed with bursts of radiant light, casting intricate patterns and shadows across the ship’s walls. The surrounding darkness seemed to retreat in the face of Quentin’s impromptu light show, replaced by a dazzling spectacle that captivated both Cate and the lurking shark.

Caught off guard by the sudden burst of illumination, the shark hesitated for a fleeting moment, its predatory instincts momentarily thrown in disarray by the display. Sensing an opportunity, Cate seized the moment, her eyes ablaze with determination as she swam forward.

With a swift flick of her wrist, Cate unleashed a burst of energy from her trident, the enchanted weapon crackling with power as the attack sliced through the water. As it contacted the creature, the water around it erupted into a flurry of bubbles, swirling and churning. Encased within this bubble barrier, the shark found itself momentarily disoriented, its sleek form buffeted by the turbulent currents.

Caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, the shark recoiled instinctively, its powerful tail thrashing wildly as it sought to break free from the confining embrace of the magical bubbles. Each frenzied movement sent ripples cascading through the water, the once graceful predator now reduced to a frenetic frenzy of motion.

Stuck within the shimmering confines of the bubble, the shark found itself swept away by the relentless currents, its movements hindered by the magical barrier that encased it. Despite its efforts to break free, the creature was powerless to escape the inexorable pull of the bubble’s momentum.

It carried the shark further and further away from Cate and Quentin, its struggle gradually subsiding, replaced by a resigned acceptance of its fate. With each passing moment, the once fearsome predator grew smaller in the distance, until it finally vanished from sight, lost amidst the vast expanse of the twilight zone.

“Cate, that was incredible,” Quentin said. “How did you manage to do that?”

Cate shook her head, still processing the adrenaline-fueled encounter. “I’m not sure,” she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It must be the trident.”

Quentin remembered the slight shift he had seen around Cate in the training grounds, a little hesitant to think it was just the trident, but he nodded anyway.

She glanced down at her trident, tracing the intricate carvings on its surface with her thumb. They shimmered faintly in the dim light. “Whatever it was, it came in handy,” she remarked thoughtfully. “We’ll have to thank Elysia when we get back.”

Your Thoughts Matter!

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