Poseidon

Poseidon's domain extended to the last salty drop, but his soul was empty until he saw it. The captain of the three-masted barque was as bright as a ray of light piercing the depths of the water, and as commanding on his vessel as a god himself in his abyss.

A storm, not his doing, lashed out with fury. Poseidon watched as the captain, having given up his chances to others, was swallowed by the abyss himself. The ruler's heart, eternally cold, sank. He rushed into the darkness and carried the lifeless body back to his coral grotto.

“You are too bright for the kingdom of the dead,” the god whispered, and his lips, breathing out storms, touched the lips of the mortal, breathing into them the life of the sea.

The captain came to, and horror froze in his eyes as he tried to breathe and inhaled water.

— What… what about me?

"Alive. Free. Mine," Poseidon's voice sounded like the roar of underground currents. He touched the man's neck, and gills appeared on the skin, and his legs merged into a powerful tail the color of a storm wave. "Triton. My companion."

In the god's outstretched palm lay a glowing shell.

• This is your helm now. I will teach you forever.

The captain looked at the tail, at the abyss around him, at the god's face, where not only power but also thirst was visible. Slowly, he accepted the gift. His gaze was no longer that of a victim. It was a challenge. Thus began their eternity—captive to the abyss, where even a god could be captive to the one he saved.