ㅤㅤㅤ 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞 ༘ ⋆｡˚⚔︎ ". . . one who bleeds the tides." ─── 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐧 ♆ ㅤ

@CAMP3NIGMA @starlafiles @delsyreth @incautavidi ㅤㅤ MERRY CHRISTMAS, ENIGMA! 🌟 ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ Fierro grunted something that might have been agreement. Selene hummed. Yue nudged her ankle. Chaos would come tomorrow. They would need to run, to fight. But together, they'd be ready, like they always are. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ For a moment, she let herself believe it was enough. Then she exhaled slowly, eyes tracing the first stars. "Rest up," she murmured, half to herself, half to her quiet circle of friends. "Tomorrow's going to hit hard. Again." ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ She leaned back on her hands as the last sliver of sun slipped below the horizon, the sky fading to deep indigo. The air cooled against her salt-warmed skin. Around her, the others stretched, joked softly, traded lazy banter. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ The ocean hummed nearby, and for the first time since the quest began, the daughter of Poseidon felt a stillness that wasn't fear, urgency, or the ticking of a countdown. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ By the time they gathered outside again—hair damp, clothes clean, shoulders lighter—they looked almost human. Almost normal. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ not much, but four walls, clean water, and showers that didn't require fighting monsters first. They took turns washing off the grime and dust, swapping quick jokes through the bathroom door or threatening to break it down when someone lingered too long. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ Her suggestion was met with nods, groans, and one dramatic flop from Fierro, which sent a spray of sand into the air. Eventually, practicality won out. They found a room at the nearest resort— ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ Mirella snorted. "Here," she said, tossing Yue a tumbler of water. She sank onto the sand, letting the warm grains press into her palms. "Want to rest for a bit? Regroup? We've still got a few hours before dragging ourselves back to the airport." ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ arms no longer crossed like she was wrestling the universe. Shion and Blaire elbowed each other over something, laughing too loudly for the quiet shore. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the others watching too. Fierro's silhouette glowed red, Ariadne's curls shone amber, Yue blinked against the glare while pretending not to smile, and even Selene had relaxed, ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ and by the time they reached the shore, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky molten orange. Warm light brushed their faces, golden on sea-worn skin. Mirella paused, letting it sink in—sunsets had always reminded her of home. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ Mirella rolled her shoulders, feeling every scrape and bruise settle as the adrenaline faded. They made their way across the uneven stone toward the narrow trail that led back to the beach. The path descended into soft sand, ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ Mirella stepped back, a tired smile ghosting across her lips. "That's two down. We're halfway through," she said, her voice hoarse. "Let's hope the next one doesn't come with a built-in flock." ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ The effect was immediate. Light bled through the cracks of the carving, tracing every feather of the vulture's wings. The ground trembled as the markings on the wall came alive, filling the chamber with a low, resonant hum. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ The daughter of the seas approached slowly, the remaining aetherstone gleaming in her palm. "Here goes nothing," she murmured, pressing it into place. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ Carved into the far wall was a faded sigil: the mark of the vulture, wings outstretched, stone darkened by time. At its center, a hollow waited, empty and expectant. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ the cracked façade of the Komotini Archaeological Museum. The moment they stepped inside, the air changed—cooler, older, humming faintly with magic. ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ When she straightened, she took in the quiet around her, the others moving through the ruins, checking their weapons, murmuring soft, tired reassurances. Her eyes drifted past them, turning toward the structure looming ahead— ㅤ

ㅤ ﹙𓇼﹚. . . ࣪ ִֶָ Mirella crouched by a cracked basin where rainwater had pooled, dipping her fingers into it. The surface shimmered faintly at her touch, warmth rippling outward. ㅤ