When Arthur crossed into the next island, the ground beneath his feet vanished.
There was no solid path.
No scorched earth.
No monsters.
Just a boundless ocean stretching endlessly beneath a pale silver sky.
The air was cool, unnervingly calm, as if the world itself had paused its breath.
Beneath his feet, a thin transparent platform of energy hovered just above the water's surface, barely wide enough for him to stand.
The voice returned.
"The second flame is patience. To conquer water, you must not wield it—you must become it."
Arthur glanced around.
There was nothing here.
No visible endpoint. No enemies. No way forward.
Just him and the water.
He clenched his fist, summoning fire instinctively—but the flames sputtered and died, swallowed instantly by the humid air.
His fire wouldn't work here.
"Water does not yield to rage. It flows only with those who flow with it."
His jaw tightened. If I can't burn through, then I'll carve a path another way.
Arthur extended his hand toward the water's surface, reaching for the elemental force buried beneath it.
The water rippled, stirred—and then violently rejected him. The platform beneath him vanished.
Arthur plummeted into the sea. The cold pierced him like a thousand knives, dragging him down into the abyss.
Panic surged. He struggled, kicking, clawing, desperate to surface.
The water clung to him like iron chains.
His chest burned. His vision darkened.
I'll drown—
In a final frantic stroke, he broke through the surface and gasped for air, dragging himself back onto the platform that had reappeared beneath him.
His body trembled. His heart thundered.
What was that?
"Again."
The voice offered no guidance.
Just the demand to try again.
---
Arthur repeated the process.
Focus.
Reach for the water.
Fail.
Fall.
Each time, the ocean swallowed him without mercy.
Each time, the panic consumed him faster.
His body weakened. His resolve cracked.
The sunless sky offered no hint of passing time—but his muscles ached, his throat burned, and his mind frayed at the edges.
How long have I been here? Days? Weeks?
Every attempt ended the same.
The platform vanished. He plunged. He fought. He drowned.
Again.
And again.
And again.
---
His patience shattered.
He slammed his fist into the transparent platform, his fire flickering uselessly.
"What am I supposed to do?! I'm trying—why won't it listen to me?!"
The water only rippled back in answer.
He forced his fire to ignite once more—but the moisture in the air extinguished it instantly.
"If I can't fight, then how do I win?!"
"I'm not here to flow—I'm here to survive!"
But the water rejected him still.
"You fight because you fear sinking."
"But what if sinking is the only way forward?"
The voice was faint, distant, as if it spoke from the depths.
Arthur collapsed to his knees, his breathing ragged.
"I don't understand…"
---
In the silence, he stared at the endless sea.
Its surface was calm.
It had always been calm.
It didn't fight him. It didn't attack him.
It simply existed.
The water wasn't an obstacle—it was just there.
Arthur closed his eyes.
He had spent so long fighting the water, resisting its pull, trying to bend it to his will.
But fire was force.
Water was flow.
He let out a slow breath and gently reached out his hand—not to control, but to feel.
The water rippled under his touch.
No resistance. No violence.
"What if I let go?"
Arthur allowed the platform to vanish beneath him.
This time, he didn't fight the plunge.
He allowed the water to consume him.
The cold wrapped around him—but there was no panic this time.
He stopped thrashing. He stopped clawing.
He simply drifted.
The water carried him, not as an enemy—but as a current.
He moved with it.
Like breathing.
Like falling asleep.
His heartbeat slowed.
His mind calmed.
The ocean shimmered, parting beneath him.
The platform reformed—but now it was wider, more stable.
The water rose at his command—not through force, but through understanding.
It wrapped around his arms, twisting into elegant shapes.
"You must flow with me to shape me."
Arthur stepped forward—walking on water now.
He wove streams around him, forming a spiral that danced and spun with his every movement.
The voice returned, clearer than ever.
"The second lesson: To lead water, you must first follow it."
"Only those who can embrace stillness may grasp the shape of the current."
Arthur exhaled.
The path forward glowed ahead—a shining bridge rising from the sea.
He stepped onto it with steady feet.
"Lina… wait for me. I'm not finished yet."