Chapter 298: My son
The ocean was not quiet.
Beneath the twilight surface, currents coiled like serpents, carrying whispers and memories from ages long buried. The mortal world above might have thought the storm had passed after Poseidon’s clash with the gods, but the sea knew better. The tide itself vibrated with expectation, as though waiting for something—or someone.
And that someone finally came.
From the trench of Kalyth, a figure emerged, cutting through the abyssal black. He was not human, nor fully divine, but something in between—a shape wrought from tide and blood. His eyes gleamed with stormlight, the same hue as his father’s.
His name was Agerion, the first-born son of Poseidon.
He carried in his veins a shard of his father’s fury, tempered by the silence of the abyss. Where Poseidon was vast, unrelenting, Agerion was focused—a spear point to the ocean’s endless tide. His trident was younger than the seas but carried the weight of battles already won in forgotten corners of the deep.
The mortals who had once seen him called him the Breaker of Shores. But to the gods, he was still an unknown.
And now, he rose to stand before his father.
---
The Meeting
Poseidon stood at the edge of a shattered cliff, the ruins of a drowned temple at his back. His hair flowed like a storm-tossed tide, his presence bending the very waves to bow. Around him, the air was heavy with the salt-thick scent of his dominion.
He did not turn when the ripples shifted. He had already felt the boy’s approach.
"So," Poseidon said, voice a low thunder, "the sea remembers my blood."
Agerion strode out from the water, boots sinking into the sand, trident strapped across his back. He looked at Poseidon without bowing, though his chest burned with the weight of his father’s presence.
"You have shaken Olympus. The bells of drowning have tolled. The mortal harbors crumble under your breath. And still you ask if the sea remembers?" His words were edged, almost accusing.
Poseidon’s gaze finally turned, eyes like whirlpools that could swallow nations. "Careful, boy. The sea remembers, but it also consumes."
Agerion did not flinch. "If you are the sea, then I am its wave. You called, Father. Even if you did not know it. I felt it when the tide leaned. I felt it when Olympus stirred. Your awakening pulled me from the depths."
For the first time, Poseidon’s stern face softened—just barely.
"You bear my strength," he said. "But do you bear my will?"
---
The Test
Without warning, Poseidon raised his hand. The sea obeyed. A wall of water surged from behind Agerion, crashing forward with the force of ten storms.
Most would have been erased.
But Agerion pivoted, his trident flashing from his back. With a single sweeping arc, he split the wall. The water obeyed him—not fully, not perfectly, but enough. The wave crashed down at either side, leaving him standing firm in the hollow path he had carved.
He panted once, then steadied. His storm-lit eyes never left Poseidon’s.
"You think me unproven," Agerion said. "But I am not a boy clinging to scraps of your name. I have fought leviathans in the dark below. I have broken empires who thought the sea their slave. If you are the tide, then I am its spear. Test me as you will, Father. I will not break."
Poseidon’s lips curled into something dangerous—half approval, half hunger for more.
"Then you shall not be tested with waves."
The ocean floor shook. From the trench, something vast stirred—a creature Poseidon himself had bound ages ago. A serpent of the deeps, plated in bone-like scales, with eyes that burned blue.
The Karyth Wyrm.
Agerion’s jaw tightened. He had heard whispers of it. None who swam too close had lived to tell the tale.
Poseidon’s voice rumbled. "Kill it... or be killed by it. Then I will decide if you are truly my son."
---
The Battle
The wyrm erupted from the abyss, its length enough to coil mountains. The sea trembled under its movement, and its roar shattered coral spires. Its maw opened wide, revealing rows of teeth like jagged cliffs.
Agerion spun his trident in his grip, summoning the force of the tides into its prongs. "If you would prove me, Father—then watch."
The wyrm lunged.
Agerion met it head-on, his trident striking upward, piercing the beast’s jaw and forcing its head aside. The impact rippled through the water, sending currents whipping like blades. He darted aside, his body moving with fluid grace, striking again at its flank.
Blood like molten salt clouded the water.
But the wyrm’s tail came crashing down, slamming Agerion into the seabed. Rock shattered around him, and for a moment his vision blurred. The creature’s weight pressed in, crushing.
"Rise," Poseidon’s voice thundered through the sea, not in command but in judgment.
And Agerion rose.
With a snarl, he twisted his trident, channeling not just force—but will. The water itself bent to him, currents whipping around the wyrm’s body like chains. It thrashed, shrieking into the abyss, but Agerion drove his trident into its chest, bursting through scale and bone until the creature convulsed.
The wyrm collapsed, sinking back into the trench, its body dissolving into salt mist.
Agerion floated above, chest heaving, his trident dripping with divine ichor.
---
Father and Son
Poseidon stepped forward, the waves calming around his feet. He regarded the corpse dissolving into the dark, then his son, standing bloodied but unbroken.
"You do not wield the sea as I do," Poseidon said, voice heavy. "But you wield it enough."
Agerion wiped the blood from his cheek, raising his trident in salute. "Then I am acknowledged?"
Poseidon’s gaze narrowed. "You are my son. That much is truth. But acknowledgment..." His voice hardened, a tide crashing against cliffs. "...must be earned in more than blood."
Agerion tilted his head, defiance still in his eyes. "Then tell me. What is it you seek, Father? Why have you risen? Why drown the cities of men?"
For a moment, Poseidon’s expression shifted—something colder, deeper than rage.
"The gods sit above, feasting on order built upon our chains. They buried me, cast me into silence, and thought the sea would forget. But the sea does not forget. The world tilts toward reckoning, and I will not be bound again. If Olympus would chain me, then Olympus must drown."
The weight of those words struck even Agerion silent.
And then Poseidon added, almost softly:
"You will choose, my son. Stand with me... or stand against me. But know this—the tide is already rising."
Agerion met his father’s eyes. His pulse thundered like waves on rock. He had sought acknowledgment. Instead, he had been offered war.
And in the silent space between them, the sea itself seemed to hold its breath.