"Wait," he muttered, squinting. "There's something on its back."
Willem appeared beside him, having reclaimed the spyglass. "What? Let me see." He raised it to his eye, then nearly dropped it. "People! There are people riding it!"
"Impossible," someone in the crowd scoffed.
"See for yourself!" Willem thrust the spyglass at the doubter.
The next few minutes passed in a blur of exclamations and disbelief as the leviathan drew steadily closer to Northhaven. The crowd continued to grow, news of the spectacle spreading through the city like wildfire. Guards appeared, attempting to maintain some semblance of order as civilians pressed forward for a better view.
Now the creature was close enough that everyone could see it clearly. Its massive head rose from the water, yellow eyes visible even at this distance. Behind it stretched a body longer than three fishing vessels, a ridge of obsidian spines running along its back.
And there, perched between those spines, were unmistakably human figures.
"I count eight... no, nine of them," a guard said, lowering his own spyglass. "Children, by the look of it."
"The students," Willem whispered, his face ashen. "It's them."
Harlin felt his heart hammering against his ribs. "And the Ghost?"
As if in answer, the leviathan surged forward with sudden speed, covering the remaining distance to the harbor in a burst of movement that sent waves crashing against the docks. People stumbled back, some crying out in alarm, others frozen in awe.
The creature slowed as it approached, its massive head turning slightly as if surveying the gathered crowd. It came to a stop just short of the harbor entrance, the water around it strangely calm despite its size.
Now they could see the riders clearly.
"That's them," Willem gasped. "That's all of them. They're alive!"
Eight students sat awkwardly along the leviathan's spine, clinging to the massive scales and each other. At the front, closest to the creature's head, sat a dark-haired boy who Harlin immediately recognized despite the dyed hair.
Adom.
The leviathan approached the main dock with surprising grace for something so enormous. Its massive form cast the entire area into shadow, making the afternoon feel suddenly like twilight.
"Stand back!" a guard shouted, though no one seemed eager to approach the giant sea creature.
The leviathan lowered its head toward the dock, allowing its passengers to clamber off. They slid down its neck one by one, looking exhausted but remarkably unharmed.
Willem burst forward the moment the last student's feet touched the dock, nearly bowling over a startled guard in his haste.
"You're alive!" he cried, tears streaming freely down his face. "Thank every god in every pantheon, you're all alive!"
He grabbed the nearest student—a confused-looking ginger boy with a small blue creature on his shoulder—and embraced him so tightly the boy wheezed.
"I thought you were dead!" Willem babbled, releasing him only to grab a slender girl with silver hair. "I thought you were all dead and they'd hang me for it!"
"Um, we're fine?" the girl said, awkwardly patting Willem's shoulder.
"We had no idea you were so worried about us," another student said, a tall boy with an elegant bearing. "That's... touching."
"I'm sorry," said the ginger, adjusting his glasses. "We shouldn't have asked you to take us there. It was reckless."
Willem sobbed harder, not bothering to correct their misunderstanding about the source of his relief.
Harlin ignored the emotional display, his attention fixed on Adom.
The boy stood apart from the others, facing the leviathan. Something in his posture suggested he was communicating with the creature, though no words were exchanged that Harlin could hear.
The leviathan's massive head hovered just above the dock, yellow eyes fixed on Adom. Around them, the crowd kept a respectful—or fearful—distance, their voices hushed as if witnessing something sacred.
After what seemed like minutes but was probably only seconds, the leviathan began to withdraw. It moved backward with the same grace, its massive body sliding beneath the waves until only its head remained visible.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
It gave one last look at Adom, then disappeared entirely, leaving only ripples on the surface to mark its passing.
Sunlight flooded the dock again, the leviathan's shadow no longer blocking the afternoon sun. The crowd erupted in excited chatter, everyone talking at once. Guards struggled to maintain order, pushing back civilians who pressed forward for a closer look at the students who had apparently tamed a leviathan.
Harlin approached Adom slowly, feeling oddly hesitant. The boy turned as he neared, and Harlin was struck by how... unchanged he seemed. Tired, yes, but not frightened or traumatized as one might expect after whatever had happened in the Highlands.
"Hey there," Adom said, as casually as if they'd run into each other at the market.
"Gave us quite a fright there, boy," Harlin managed, his voice gruffer than intended.
"Yeah." Adom glanced back at the harbor entrance, where the unnatural storm still churned on the horizon. "Didn't expect things to go quite like this."
"That storm," Harlin said, nodding toward it. "What is it?"
Adom studied it for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Magic."
They stood in silence, watching the distant tempest. It hadn't moved or dissipated, still hanging over the Giant Highlands like a threat.
"You going to tell me what happened out there?" Harlin finally asked.
Adom turned to him, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No," he said simply. "I don't think I will."
*****
"A small lightning socket," Damus clarified, his voice utterly serious while his eyes betrayed something that might have been amusement.
Mira joined them, dropping into a chair beside Hugo. "Are we talking about Adom's terrible hair?"
"We've moved past it," Adom said firmly.
"Not past enough," Serena called from across the dining hall. "It still looks like that."
Adom sighed, but there was no real frustration behind it. These moments—the casual banter, the shared meals, the quiet normalcy between public appearances—had become unexpectedly precious during their journey home.
The team had noticed, of course. It was impossible not to. The shift between Adom and Damus—from cold hostility to something approaching normal interaction—had been the subject of subtle glances and unspoken questions.
The two of them rarely spoke of anything important, but they spoke—about breakfast preferences, weather patterns, the strange customs of each city they visited.
No one mentioned it directly, as if drawing attention to the fragile truce might somehow break it.
Only Hugo, walking back to their quarters after a particularly long day in Cascadia, had said anything.
"I'm glad you two figured things out," he'd said quietly, falling into step beside Adom as Damus walked a few paces ahead. "Whatever it was."
"We haven't, not really," Adom had replied. "But we're working on it."
Hugo had nodded, seeming to understand what Adom couldn't quite articulate. "That's enough," he'd said. "Teams don't need everyone to be best friends. They just need everyone to respect each other."
Even Coach Viriam had relaxed around them.
Where once he'd positioned himself between Adom and Damus during team meetings—an unconscious buffer against potential conflict—now he allowed them to sit together without nervous glances.
"My mother always said time heals all wounds," Viriam had told Serena, who'd looked so shocked at the positive spin that she'd actually stopped her warm-up routine. "Well, that's not entirely accurate. She actually said time reveals which wounds are worth keeping. But I prefer my version."
In Lireth, they'd been treated to a military parade—all precision and discipline, with the academy's senior cadets forming an honor guard that escorted them from the harbor to the city center.
"Seems excessive," Damus had muttered as they walked past row after row of rigidly attentive cadets.
"It's not for us," Adom had replied quietly. "It's for them. Shows they can lose with dignity."
Damus had considered this, then nodded once. "Makes sense."
In Cascadia, the reception had been more elegant—a formal dinner at Verron Institute where even the table settings probably cost more than most people's monthly wages. Adom had watched with quiet amusement as his teammates tried to figure out which fork to use for each course.
"Just work from the outside in," he'd whispered to Talef, who looked ready to stab himself with the seafood pick rather than use it incorrectly.
By the time they reached Arkhos, they had the routine down to a science. Arrive at port, accept the local dignitaries' welcome, participate in whatever ceremony had been arranged, give a few appropriate quotes to the local papers, then retreat to their accommodations for a blessed few hours of normalcy before doing it all again the next day.
Sam, Eren, and the others had taken a different ship back—partly due to limited space on the team vessel, but mostly because Sam had insisted on visiting every bookshop in Northhaven before leaving. Mia had joined them, ostensibly to supervise but really because several rare alchemical ingredients were only available in the northern markets.
"We'll meet you in Arkhos," Sam had promised, barely looking up from the dusty tome he'd been examining. "Save me a spot at the celebration."
Except Arkhos was different.
They were still half a mile from the harbor when the first explosion lit up the sky.
"What the—" Hugo started, bolting upright from where he'd been leaning against the ship's railing.
"Fireworks," Adom said, watching another burst of color bloom against the late afternoon sky. "They're welcoming us home."
Zuni, who had been napping on Adom's shoulder, lifted his head at the noise.
Good heavens, he projected into Adom's mind. Is that truly necessary?
"Apparently," Adom murmured, scratching gently between Zuni's quills.
I suppose next they'll have a parade.
"Probably," Adom agreed. "With musicians and everything."
Hmm. Well I hope there will be sugar. I miss sugar.
As they drew closer to the harbor, the full scale of Arkhos's celebration came into view. The docks were packed with people—not just students and faculty, but what looked like half the city. Banners in Xerkes hung from every available surface, and someone had erected a massive wooden platform that appeared to be a viewing stage.
"I didn't think this many people even lived in Arkhos," Serena said, coming to stand beside Adom at the railing.
"Krozball," Coach Viriam explained, sounding almost resigned. "It's not just a sport. It's practically a religion."
The coach had undergone something of a transformation during their journey. The nervous, self-doubting equipment manager was still there somewhere beneath the surface, but public adoration had forced him to develop at least a veneer of confidence. He still flinched when reporters shouted questions, but he no longer looked like he might faint at any moment.
Another firework exploded overhead, this one forming the Xerkes Academy crest before dissolving into a shower of silver sparks.
Gaudy, Zuni observed. Though I suppose the craftsmanship is adequate.
"I think it's nice," Adom said. "They're proud of us."
They're proud of you, Zuni corrected. The rest are merely along for the recognition.
"That's not fair," Adom murmured. "Everyone contributed."
If you insist, Zuni replied, his mental tone suggesting he was only agreeing to be polite.
Their ship docked amid cheers that somehow managed to be louder than thirty thousand people in an enclosed arena. The gangplank lowered, and at the bottom stood Headmaster Meris, resplendent in formal academic robes that looked like they hadn't seen daylight in decades.
"Do we have to?" Talef asked, eyeing the crowd with sudden apprehension.
"Unfortunately," Hugo replied, adjusting his uniform robes. "Just smile and wave. It'll be over soon."
"That's what you said in Cascadia," Mira grumbled. "I'm still finding glitter in my hair."
Headmaster Meris's voice boomed across the harbor, magically amplified to reach even the farthest spectators. "Ladies and gentlemen! Citizens of Arkhos! I present to you... the champions of the Inter-Academy Krozball Tournament!"
The noise that followed was beyond description—a wall of sound that seemed to physically push against them as they descended to the dock. Hugo led the way, carrying the championship cup high above his head. The rest of the team followed in loose formation, waving and smiling as instructed.
Adom found himself scanning the crowd automatically, noting the mix of enthusiasm and political opportunism. Several members of the city council had positioned themselves prominently near the viewing platform. Merchants Guild representatives stood in a neat block near the harbor master's office, their guild badges polished to a shine.
And there—near the back, trying not to be noticed but failing completely due to his height—was Mister Biggins. The old man caught Adom's eye and gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, then disappeared into the crowd.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur of speeches, congratulations, and what felt like a thousand handshakes. Hugo spoke briefly, thanking the city for its support. Coach Viriam managed to say a few words without mentioning his mother once, which was progress.
When it was finally over, when they'd been escorted back to the academy grounds and the crowds had dispersed, Adom found himself standing in the quiet courtyard, watching the last of the fireworks fade from the darkening sky.