Page 116 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

“What lovely chests… I mean wings.” Fraya snorted, reining her horse alongside Minha’s.

I knew those two would get along.

“I never thought I’d see this many people willing to stand against the Seelie queen.” Fraya’s voice dropped lower. “My father always said no one fights queens and wins.”

Her father was a coward, who beat his wife, and didn’t understand the power of unity, of people refusing to stay afraid.

“They’re ready,” Selene said, coming to stand beside Calroy.

“Stay here and out of sight,” Calroy told our friends as they dismounted, though his eyes lingered longest on the two gods. “I don’t want the queen hearing about your return before we’re ready for her to know.”

Rowhan and Palto nodded, staying on their horses.

Selene placed a hand on my shoulder. “They’ve been waiting for you too.”

“For me?”

“For both of you.” Her eyes moved between Calroy and me.

“There are more of them than I’d excepted.” Calroy scanned the mass, taking in the count.

“Word travels even in hiding.” Hellena’s wings folded tighter against her back. “When the boarox bowed to Star, people took notice. When the queen’s soldiers at the mountain didn’t return, people spread the truth.” She looked back at the gathered army. “They knew the lost gods had returned.”

Calroy helped me off the horse, then flapped his wings and lifted us both into the air, high enough for the whole assembly to see us.

His eyes moved across every face, every wing, every blade, and expression softened with gratitude. Not the god of the sky alone, cold and untouchable. Not the pirate captain hiding behind a smirk. Both, together, for the first time—a man who had been waiting a long time for this moment.

“For years you have lived in hiding.” His voice carried to the gathered. “Stripped of your wings, your homes, your families. You were told to forget who you were.” He paused, giving his words room to land. “I forgot too. I told myself I was nothing but a pirate. I let myself believe it, because the truth was too heavy to carry alone.”

A murmur rippled through the gathered army but stopped when Calroy continued.

“But I refuse to hide. Refuse to forget.” His grip on my hand tightened. “And beside me is the goddess of the sea—Yeri, returned, exactly as the old stories promised. Not a legend. Not a hope passed down by firelight.” His voice rose. “Real. Here. Ready to fight beside every one of you.”

Cheers and shouts of approval boomed. Calroy raised a hand, and the noise subsided.

“The queen took everything from all of us. The Caelum people lost their wings. The Seaborn lost their kingdom beneath the sea, their families, their freedom—hunted, sold, and silenced. She tried to erase two gods in one stroke, believing neither would ever rise to stand against her.” He paused, letting the word sink in. “She was wrong.”

The crowd held its breath.

“Today we stand together.” He lifted his fist toward the sky. “For Caelum! For every wing she clipped, every Seaborn she chained, every life she stole, and every name she tried to erase! Today we remind her what gods look like when they remember themselves and what their people look like when they fight for what is right!”

The roar that followed shook the trees.

“I knew there were Seaborn among you,” I called out.

A man stepped forward from the gathered crowd. Built like a warrior, broad through the shoulders, his eyes bright green.

“My name is Yong.” He pressed a fist to his chest and bowed. “I have rallied every Seaborn I could find who escaped the Seelie queen’s reach. It is an honor to serve you, My Lady.”

“Hoo!” The hundred behind him echoed the gesture in unison, fists striking chests, a sound like a single heartbeat rolling across the shore.

I had nothing to say that matched the weight of what he’d just given me. A hundred people who had chosen to keep fighting instead of disappearing. Who had found each other in hiding and held on, the way Jina and Minha and I had held on to each other in the cavern. The way Nam had held all of us together with nothing but stories, songs, and the stubborn refusal to let us forget who we were in her own way.

I bowed my head to him instead. Some things deserved more than words.

Then from somewhere in the gathered crowd, a voice carried a tune. Then another. Then the sound built, until it moved through the whole assembly like a tide. The song. The one Nam used to sing by the firepit. The one Minha had hummed in the dungeon. The one Hope had sung at Mount Kael with dirt on her face and fire in her eyes.

We were born of the sea and our people will rise,