Lukas traveled alone into the far reaches of the Seas, far beyond the bustling trade currents and guarded coasts, into waters where light faded and even the most daring of the draconic kind would never venture.

Both his mother Selene and the Lady Kaitlyn had assured him Rosalia would be safe with them while he made this journey. In fact, Rosalia's training had already begun anew but this time under Lady Kaitlyn's direct supervision. The sorceress understood the girl's power in a way Lukas could not, and with her guidance, Rosalia's potential might finally truly be realized. That certainty gave Lukas a measure of peace as he cut through the darkening waters, a measure of peace that unfortunately did not last for very long.

The deeper he went, the heavier the silence became; silence that pressed against his thoughts like the weight of the ocean itself.

Katrina Drakos had remained within Kuria Prison for all these years, bound to her duty as its Warden. The moment she had returned to Linemall, Lukas learnt that Katrina had spent the last seven years dedicating herself to the fortress that held Linemall's criminals. Lukas had always known that, sooner or later, he would have to meet her again.

Yet knowing something and wanting it were entirely different things.

Reluctance tugged at him now. Lukas still remembered how he had broken the bracelet and watched as Katrina had dissolved into water before his eyes, her expression etched with betrayal.

It was an image he could not erase from his mind now.

Lukas knew Katrina had wanted to fight by her father's side until the very end. And now, with Rodan gone, Katrina had every reason to hate him for it. Lukas did not delude himself. Katrina knew that her father was gone, just like the Lady Kaitlyn herelf had known. Whether she would forgive him for that moment years ago, Lukas did not know.

But this was not a meeting he could postpone. It was necessary, however hard it might be. Katrina would be traveling with them to the Draconic Summit and Lukas had decided he would be the one to tell her.

Finally Kuria Prison soon loomed before him, its vast stone bulk anchored deep into the seabed, lit only by the pale shimmer of bioluminescent growth clinging to its walls. It was as dark and forbidding as the day Lukas had last seen it and he could feel the disdain the Kraken had for it. The guards were assembled outside in two perfectly ordered ranks, spears leveled the moment they noticed Lukas.

Their stance shifted the instant a commanding voice rang out, sharp and certain. "Stand down!"

A dragonborn in semi-humanoid form, tall and broad-shouldered, a clipboard tucked under his arm was the one who had given them the order. His presence was steady, commanding, and strangely warm despite where they had found themselves.

It was Samuel Sterling, Jesse's father and the former Warden of Kuria Prison. The dragonborn looked healthier than Lukas remembered, his scales polished and his eyes sharp.

With a smile, Samuel bowed his head slightly. "Lukas. So, you've finally returned," he noted, his tone carrying both respect and familiarity. "It's good to see you again."

Lukas returned the smile. "Likewise, Samuel."

The older dragonborn's expression softened. "Tell me—how is my son?"

Lukas didn't hesitate. "Jesse is doing great. You would be proud of the man he's become."

Samuel's grip tightened slightly on his clipboard, his eyes bright with gratitude and something deeper—immense relief. "I owe you a great debt for taking care of him all these years."

Lukas shook his head. "You owe me nothing. It has been an honor to watch over him."

Lukas had just opened his mouth to ask Samuel why every guard was assembled outside the prison gates instead of being within it when a sudden ripple of power shuddered through the water. It began as a faint vibration then the water itself thickened, compressed and twisted into strands as solid as steel. Those strands shot upward in great sweeping arcs, weaving together in an instant to form a massive net over the open prison, sealing it beneath an unyielding dome.

Kuria, for as long as it had existed, had never been enclosed.

Now it was trapped beneath a cage of water that no one could pass through.

Lukas froze, his question forgotten.

The magic radiating from within was potent and highly familiar.

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And it was familiar because it was the Divinity of the Seas.

Samuel did not try to explain because he did not need to. Instead, he lifted his free hand and gestured toward the prison interior, the motion slow and deliberate. Lukas's gaze followed and he watched all of it unfold before his eyes.

Cages—hundreds of them—were opening in unison, the locks snapping free. The sound was deafening, echoing through the water like a chain breaking a hundred times over. From within emerged the most dangerous beings Linemall had ever confined. The Kraken was once the Sea's greatest threat but here stood others whose names were whispered only in warning—monsters whose raw, unrestrained power could shatter fleets or raze coastal cities. Lukas could feel their hunger for freedom, could taste the violence in the water as their eyes adjusted to the open corridors. Shackles fell away from scaled wrists and taloned hands as Lukas heard the rumble of roars and saw teeth bared in anticipation.

Yet Samuel and the guards did nothing.

They stood as they were, spears grounded, gazes steady. There was no alarm in their eyes, no rush to intervene. Not even the faintest trace of surprise.

It was in that moment Lukas realized that they had expected this to happen. His confusion deepened as the first wave of prisoners began moving toward the entrance.

If they knew this was going to happen then why were they just standing there? And then Lukas saw why.

At the far end of the main corridor, framed in the open archway like the inevitable end to every escape, stood a lone figure.

Katrina Drakos.

The Warden of Kuria Prison held in her grip a warhammer taller than herself and it seemed eager to taste battle. The moment the prisoners saw her, her aura ignited—raw magical energy erupting around her like a storm contained in human form. Many roared, charging as one, a tide of killers and warlords who had once carved their names into the history of blood and ruin. Others hung back, wary after having learnt their lessons the hard way. Instead they waited for what they thought was the right opportunity to strike.

But the guards never moved. They weren't frozen in fear, they were simply obeying orders.

The Warden had told them to stay back.

This was her fight.

Katrina was nothing like the girl that Lukas had once known. She was a warrior now—one whose strength was so undeniable that even Linemall's most violent and brutal criminals could not so much as slow her down.

The Warden of Kuria Prison wielded the Divinity of the Seas with devastating precision now, each surge of power measured, intentional, and final. Every prisoner who dared to reach for their freedom paid the ultimate price.

Her fighting style was a mix of her forefathers.

In her raw ferocity, Lukas saw the Monarch—her war hammer a merciless extension of her will, striking with such force that bone and steel alike crumpled beneath it. Her attacks were violent, gruesome, and unflinching, each blow carrying the fury of the Seas themselves. Yet, in the same breath, she moved with a precision and speed that reminded him of her grandfather Lord Jaren. That grace did not normally belong alongside the weapon she wielded, and yet she made it her own, flowing between strikes with fluidity as if the war hammer weighed no more than a dagger.

The combination of those two aspects was a lethal thing. It did not matter what spells the prisoners cast. It did not matter what magic they hurled her way. Waves of elemental magic, spears of ice, streaks of lightning—it all fell short against Katrina. Because Jesse Sterling had not been the only dragonborn of his generation to inherit one of the Three Legacies of the Lord.

Katrina Drakos now bore the Robes of the Lord, the Legacy that now turned her into a fortress of flesh and scale.

One by one, the prisoners fell and not a single one was able to get past her within that narrow corridor which lined them up nicely for a hammer to the face. With each prisoner that Katrina defeated, Samuel glanced at the clipboard in his hand and struck another name from the list; a list of all the prisoners that Kuria had kept imprisoned up till now.

Lukas realized then what this was—this was not chaos.

This was simply routine, a routine that the guards of Kuria Prison had seen enough times to stand still and watch.

It did not take long for the slaughter to end.

Katrina stood alone in the open corridor, blood filling the water all around them—some of it her own. She was marked by cuts and bruises, but there was no hesitation in her posture, no sign that she feared the risk of death. Her once-long blonde hair had been shorn short for the sake of practicality. The scars across her body spoke to years of battles fought and survived. One, long and jagged, ran from her brow across her left eye yet she did not try to hide it.

Katrina emerged from the entrance, shoulders squared and her eyes sharp. Her voice rang with unquestionable authority as she ordered the guards to return the prisoners to their cages. Even Samuel—her predecessor and senior in years—kept his head bowed as he obeyed her command.

Then she saw Lukas.

For a heartbeat, Katrina froze.

Shock flickered in her eyes, quickly buried beneath the mask of discipline.

"…Lukas. I had no idea you had returned." There was no warmth in those eyes, the familial love that his niece once bore for him was hard to find.

The space between them felt colder than the deepest currents yet Katrina maintained the proper respect that she thought Lukas deserved.

"Welcome back to the Seas of Linemall, uncle."

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