Chapter 183: Tidecallers
The corrupted creatures surged toward the shore.
Nathan fired [Starfall Barrage] into the horde. Silver arrows rained down, tearing through vines and scales. Mirko’s Dragon’s Fang blazed. Garrett’s Volcan erupted. The party was holding, but barely. The creatures kept coming, and the shapes in the water were getting closer.
Then the sea exploded.
Not with monsters. With boats.
They rose from the water like breaching whales—long, narrow vessels carved from living coral, their hulls glowing with pale light. Humanoid figures stood at their prows, their skin pale blue-green, their hands webbed. Their eyes were large and dark, adapted to the depths. They wore shells and woven seaweed, and they chanted in a language Nathan didn’t recognize.
The chanting rose in volume. A wall of pale light formed between the shore and the forest. The corrupted creatures slammed into it and recoiled, their bodies smoking. The shapes in the water turned and fled.
"Come with us!" one of the Tidecallers shouted. "Quickly, before the barrier falls!"
Nathan didn’t hesitate. "Everyone, on the boats!"
The party scrambled aboard. The coral vessels moved with the current, carrying them away from the shore and out into the green sea. Behind them, the barrier of light flickered and held. The forest faded into the distance.
Nathan looked back at the shore. The creatures were still there, watching. Waiting. He turned to face the Tidecallers.
"Thank you," he said. "We would have been overrun."
The Tidecaller who had shouted—a young woman with dark eyes and gill-slits on her neck—nodded. "The Deep told us you were coming. We have been watching for you."
"The Deep?"
"The voice of our god. The Leviathan." She paused. "Before the corruption took him."
---
The floating island was not what Nathan expected.
It hung in the air above the sea, a massive chunk of earth and stone that somehow defied gravity. Trees grew on its upper surface, their roots trailing down into empty air. Buildings of coral and shell dotted the landscape, connected by paths of pale stone. A dome of light covered the entire island, filtering the green-tinted sky into something softer.
The boats rose from the water on currents of light and docked at the island’s edge. Tidecallers waited on the shore, their faces curious but cautious. They had seen outsiders before. They knew what Climbers were.
Nathan and his party stepped off the boats. The dome’s light washed over them, warm and gentle. The air inside was calm. No corruption. No wild growth. Just peace.
"The sanctuary," the young Tidecaller said. "The last safe place in the Verdant Depths."
She led them through the island, past coral houses and shell gardens. The Tidecallers watched them pass. Some bowed. Some whispered. Their eyes were full of something Nathan couldn’t quite name. Hope, maybe. Or fear.
They reached the temple at the island’s center—a structure of coral and shell that rose toward the sky like a wave frozen in place. Inside, the light was dim and blue. A single figure waited at the far end.
Elder Nami was old. Her skin was pale and lined, her hair white as sea foam. Her eyes were milky white—not blind, but scarred. Nathan could see the marks around them, like old burns. She smiled as the party approached.
"Strangers from another world," she said. Her voice was soft, like water over stones. "We have been waiting for you. The Deep told us you would come."
Nathan stepped forward. "You know why we’re here?"
"You are here to heal our World." Elder Nami tilted her head. "Or to end it. The Deep was not clear on which."
The party exchanged glances. Nathan felt a chill. "The Deep. You keep mentioning it. What is it?"
Elder Nami was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "The Deep is the voice of the Leviathan. Our god. Our protector. Before the corruption, he spoke to us through the water. He guided us. He kept the balance between the land and the sea. But now his voice is faint. Drowned by... The Shepherd’s seed."
Smithy frowned. "The Shepherd’s seed?"
"The source of the corruption." Elder Nami’s scarred eyes seemed to look through them. "It was planted in the Leviathan’s heart. It has been growing for centuries, spreading through the World. The forest overgrows. The creatures mutate. The Deep Ones—his children—are driven mad by the same poison that twists their father."
Nathan remembered the creature in the sea. The mountain of flesh and coral. The hundreds of glowing eyes. "The Leviathan is the massive creature in the center of the sea."
"Yes. That is what he has become." Elder Nami’s voice carried a deep sadness. "He is not evil. He is sick. The seed has poisoned him. But he is still in there. Still fighting. The Deep is his voice, struggling to be heard through the corruption."
Elise spoke. "The Clear Condition. What do we need to do?"
Elder Nami smiled. "Our world asks you to heal what the Shepherd has broken. To remove the seed from the Leviathan’s heart. To restore the balance."
Garrett shifted. "And how exactly do we do that?"
"I do not know." Elder Nami’s smile faded. "The seed is of the Shepherd. It will not be removed by force alone. It will require something more. Perhaps you will find the answer when you face it."
---
Later, the party gathered in a small chamber the Tidecallers had provided. The walls were made of coral, and the floor was soft with woven mats. A window looked out over the green sea. The shapes of Deep Ones moved beneath the surface, but they did not approach the island.
"This place is strange," Dillon said. "It’s too peaceful. After everything we’ve seen, it doesn’t feel real."
"It’s like a sanctuary," Elise replied. "The last stable part of the World."
"Yet," Garrett repeated. "That’s the key word."
Nathan sat near the window, watching the sea. His summons were in their small forms—Mirko on his lap, Kuro in his jacket, Shiro on his shoulder. Through the link, he could feel their unease.
’The Tidecallers do not know they are part of the Tower,’ Kuro observed. ’They believe they are real. They believe their world is real.’
’To them, it is real,’ Shiro replied. ’They have lived here for generations. They have suffered. They have hoped. That is real enough.’
’But the Tower is a construct,’ Kuro said. ’The Tidecallers are... what? Echoes of a dead civilization? Pieces of a world that no longer exists?’
’They are souls,’ Mirko said quietly. Her voice was unusually subdued. ’Like us. Trapped by the Babel Towers. Forced to serve a purpose they don’t understand.’
Nathan looked at his summons. They had been the same, once. Souls trapped in a System, bound to a Summoner. They had been given a second chance. The Tidecallers had not.
"We can’t think of them as NPCs," Nathan said quietly. "Even if that’s what they are. We have to treat them as people. Because that’s what they believe they are. And because it’s the right thing to do."