Lynn Abbey - Realms of the Deep

"Escape Axar you shall not. Return the claw, you must, or watch more die you will. The high priest father is-die will he unless Xynakt's Claw to Axar is returned."

As if to punctuate the threat, the morkoth cast a spell and Keros heard the sound of electrical magic arcing in the water, mixed with his father's screams of pain.

Keros no longer saw or thought or consciously swam through the dark depths. He was nothing more than a swimming rage intent on sharing his pain with the being who slew his mother and now threatened his father as well. As he flipped over amidcurrent and swam back toward the heart of the now ruined Great Vault, Keros felt only his anger-at the morkoths and at himself for not being strong enough to obey his parents' commands. He failed to notice the glow of the claw clutched in his left hand and the related glow of his own right hand within the grip of the tapal. He didn't feel anything more than the rush of water over his body, but arcane scales writhed across his skin, crawling within him as if moved by an intelligent hand. He ignored the fact that he was swimming faster than he ever had, and he no longer felt the fatigue that plagued him earlier. He was now far angrier than he'd ever been, and all that anger was focused at Arcount Axar Xyrl.

Keros swam with the sole intention of adding the Head of Axar Xyrl to the tower's collection of relics. His fury kept him from avoiding the spell attacks or even caring about their existence. Magic flared at him from all sides as the morkoths all sought to slay him, but he ignored it all. Each spell impact increased the greenish glow around Keros, which grew brighter while all the young triton felt was a growing warmth in his arms and his own rage. He wanted to use the claw's power to free his father and force the retreat of the morkoths, but part of him now thought of killing them all. Slowing his dive, Keros looked toward his father. He froze when he noticed the green glowing scales on his arms in front of him. In that instant of hesitation, Keros found himself snared by a massive spell tentacle, its arcane energies tracing back to Axar Xyrl.

"Give to Axar the claw, you must, and crush you quickly like sea slug Axar can," the bloodied arcount exclaimed, "or else make death take forever Axar can."

The silver-and-black morkoth with the silver beak descended from his higher vantage point in the chamber down to where Moras is pinned to the wall. He wrapped two of his lower tentacles into Moras's long mane to maintain his immediate threat.

"Close to death the father is, young one. To end his life Axar does not wish, but kill Axar will to gain the claw's power."

Other morkoths surrounded Keros while Xyrl spoke to him, and Xyrl manipulated the coils of his spell tentacle, allowing his minions to seize the claw. Keros struggled to hold the artifact, but with two morkoths pulling it loose and another choking him, Keros felt it tear from his grasp.

Keros felt defeated, but his rage continued to rise. He watched as the morkoths relayed the claw down to Axar Xyrl, who held a black, glowing tentacle over Moras's heart, which he moved to grasp the claw. Keros watched the arcount turn the mummified tentacle over and over, as if looking for something. He wondered why the claw no longer glowed green, as apparently did Xyrl, then he thought about the confusing green scales along his arms. Only after the morkoth screamed in frustration and gazed directly at him did Keros know the secret. The power of the Claw of Xynakt had moved into him.

His mind awhirl with the turmoil of events, Keros still meant to save his father, and he now had the means to do so. The triton summoned all his emotion and roared as he flexed his muscles, trying to slash his way out of the tentacle with the many-times-blessed tapal he still carried. The world went red in his eyes, and magic shattered in the face of his anger, the backlash separating three morkoths from their limbs and heads. Axar Xyrl shrank before this unexpected power, as Keros stepped free of his dissolving spell and advanced on the arcount. The tapal in his right hand now glistened with emerald energy, and he leveled it at the silver-beaked villain, his eyes devoid of any emotion save fury.

Visibly shaking with hostility in his defeat, Axar Xyrl said in a voice far more chilling for its calm, "Taken my prize, little triton has, or take you did it? Know the powers of the claw, Axar Xyrl does, and tell you I will not. Gains the little triton only sorrow and revenge everlasting, your victory does."

Swiftide reared up quickly behind the morkoths to attack and Keros rushed forward, but Axar completed a spell with a few quick gestures and disappeared in a swirl of water.

Keros screamed in protest, the frustration of losing his foe so easily boiling out of him with all of the fury that gripped him during the battle. His eyes tightly shut in his scream of rage, Keros didn't see the tapal glow the brightest green, but he noticed as the weight on his arm lightened. Opening his eyes, he watched as the blade shimmered and dissolved into nothingness. While shocked by that, he saw beyond himself to the wounded body of his father still pinned to the wall. Moras locked eyes with Keros, though not with the expected disapproval.

Keros swam over to his father, suddenly immensely grateful that he high priest still lived. He didn't notice that Swiftide floated apart from them. The hippocampus was silent for a moment, as if wondering who this person was who had raised him from a foal. Though his body was angry with scars and fresh wounds, Moras ignored them and looked at his son with new eyes.

"Of all the currents open for you, Keros," the priest said, "this one I never expected. I have awaited Per-sana's Blade for many tides, and I never expected it to be you, my son."

"What do you mean, Father?" Keros asked. "I did what you asked and kept the claw away from the morkoths. Now I just hope you know of some spells that can get this thing out of me and back into the ice."

Keros allowed his father to lean over his shoulders, and both men grunted as Keros pulled the trident loose from the wall. Keros carried Moras down to a level slab of rubble at the floor of the chamber, the trident still in him until they could find another healer to aid him.

"He must have passed out from the pain," Keros told himself. "That's why he isn't answering me." Settling his father as best he could, Keros looked at his face, to find him awake and looking at him with compassion.

Taking his son's right hand, Moras turned it palm up, and Keros gasped-a great green jewel now glinted at the center of his palm.

"The tapal will come to you when you need it-that it shall remain in the family's service is a good thing to know," Moras said. "The only magic that can separate it and the claw from you now, son, is that magic that awaits us all at currents' end. You carry this burden for the rest of your days, but you are strong enough to bear it. I have seen this, at least." Moras breathed in, and a hacking cough shook his body, blood clouding the water near his mouth and gill slits.

"Father!" Keros cried, his confusion turning to alarm as the older triton's wounds now seemed more serious with the rush of battle behind them. "Father…"

Moras stopped coughing and opened his eyes. "You are my son. A cold current lies before you, but do not shirk it. You know your duty to Pumanath, to Seros, to Persana. Protect and keep this power from anyone who would steal or abuse it. Do this, and know that we are proud-" Moras began to cough again, more blood flowing from his gills.

Keros was so focused on his father's last words he didn't hear the entrance of the triton military forces above him. Swiftide's sharp whinny warned him of an attack from behind and Keros brought his right arm up to block the stabbing tines of a trident, and gasped as it glanced off his arm, striking sparks where the metal trident grated on the tattooed scales. Both tritons gasped at that, but the attacker now redoubled her efforts.