The casket drifted closer to the island, cutting silently across the starlit sea, guided not by wind or tide but by will—an ancient, sorrowful will that stirred the waters beneath.
At the far end of Sea God Island, atop the polished stone steps of the eastern sanctuary, stood a woman cloaked in blue and gold, her long robes swaying like waves in the sea breeze. Her tall frame stood with a serene dignity that concealed a soul worn thin by centuries.
Bo Saixi, once High Priestess of the Sea God—revered, untouchable, divine.
But tonight, she was none of those things.
Tonight, she was just a woman. A woman who had waited too long, and hoped too hard.
Her silver-blue hair was bound loosely, cascading down her back, and her crimson eyes—usually calm as deep still water—were raw and red-rimmed from sleepless nights. She had stood there for hours, unmoving, watching the sea like a grieving widow waiting for a lover who might never return.
And then… she saw it.
The small casket, bobbing gently toward the island, cradled by waves that should have broken it long ago.
Her breath hitched.
"He came…"
She stepped forward.
And then ran.
Her bare feet hit the sand, her robe trailing behind her, soaked at the edges by the water as she charged into the tide like a mother in panic.
Her composure shattered with every step.
She stumbled, gasping through sobs she could no longer suppress, tears cutting silent lines down her regal face.
"Please… let him be alive. Please, not again... not again…"
Her voice cracked as her fingers reached the casket.
She collapsed to her knees in the shallows, hands trembling as they hovered over the lid.
For over a century, she had stood at the peak of Sea God Island, worshipped as a divine figure—one too holy for family, too sacred for love. A woman bound in golden chains of duty and prayer. She had watched generations of spirit masters live, love, and die, while she remained unchanged—lonely, untouched, eternal.
She had buried her desires beneath layers of ritual and silence.
But in the deepest parts of her heart, one wish had never died.
To hold a child of her own.
She could bring down storms with a whisper, summon tidal waves with a prayer—but she could not create life. And she had long accepted that her womb, though strong, would remain empty forever.
Until tonight.
"Please," she whispered, pressing her forehead to the lid. "Please... I've waited so long. I don't care if he's weak, or sick, or broken. Just let him live. I will give him everything."
She pried open the lid with both hands, eyes wide with fear and hope colliding like thunder.
There he was.
Swaddled in worn cloth, soft as mist, lay a baby boy no more than a week old. His skin glowed faintly with moonlight. His lips were parted in silent calm. His tiny hands rested on his chest, and—
His eyes were open.
Azure, clear, deep as the ocean depths—and they stared straight at her, unblinking.
Bo Saixi gasped.
He did not cry.
He did not flinch.
He simply looked at her… as if he had been waiting, too.
"Oh..." she whispered, voice caught in her throat. "You knew... you knew I'd come, didn't you?"
Her hands trembled as she reached down and lifted him into her arms. He was light, warm, so small—and yet, something about him felt enormous, as though she was holding a drop of water that contained an entire sea.
"You're not afraid," she said through a sob, pressing her cheek to his soft head. "You're not like the others... you're not like them at all."
He let out a tiny sigh—not a cry, not a whimper, but a soft exhale, as if he had returned to where he belonged.
She clutched him tighter, her tears soaking into his blanket.
"I'll never leave you," she whispered. "Never. I don't care what the world says. I don't care what the Sea God commands. You're mine now. Mine."
She dropped to her knees again, cradling him as though he would vanish if she let go. Her voice cracked with every word.
"I prayed. Every night, I prayed for you. I watched the sea for years… and every time it gave me nothing. I thought it forgot me. I thought... I was being punished."
She sobbed, burying her face into his tiny shoulder.
"But it didn't forget me. It didn't forget you. It was waiting—just like me. And now you're here, and I don't care if I had to sacrifice everything for you. I would even abandoned my position for you. I just want to be your mother."
The baby stirred slightly, curling one hand into the fabric of her robe.
Bo Saixi looked down, smiling through tears.
"I am Bo Saixi," she whispered. "But to you, I'll be something else. I'll be your arms when you fall. Your light when it's dark. Your voice when the world tries to silence you."
She kissed his forehead with reverent care.
"You are Hai Shenling, my son."
As she rose from the water with the child in her arms, the sea behind her glowed with pale golden light, forming ripples that danced like halos. The waves moved around her not as their master, but as their sister.
The island wind carried her words far into the horizon:
"The sea does not abandon her own. It carries them—through storms, through loss, through fate itself. And from this day forward, I will carry you."
The waves answered her vow.
The heavens trembled.
And deep beneath the waters of Sea God Island, something ancient stirred.
Bo Saixi cradled the baby as she ascended the winding path of stone that led from the shore to the heart of the island. The night wind followed her like a silken veil, carrying the scent of salt and divine energy.
They passed towering coral trees glowing with pale blue bioluminescence, and tranquil ponds that shimmered with spirit energy. The deeper she walked into the island's heart, the quieter the world became.
At last, she reached it.
The Sea God Hall.
Her home.
Not just a sanctuary—but a place untouched by time. Marble steps curved around tidal pools that breathed like lungs. Tall spires reached toward the stars, and murals of past Sea God inheritors covered the domed ceiling. Fountains whispered prayers in forgotten languages.
It was beautiful.
And unbearably empty.
Until now.
Bo Saixi stepped into the quiet main chamber, where she had spent lifetimes alone in silence.
She looked down at the child in her arms.
He stared up at her, still quiet. Still watching.
She lowered herself to the floor, resting with him in her lap. She rocked gently, back and forth, her voice low and aching with sincerity.
"This place was built for gods... but what do gods know of loneliness?"
She traced a finger along his cheek. "I've served faithfully for more than a hundred years. I gave everything. My time. My body. My youth. I thought it was enough. But in the quiet, when no one could hear me… I would whisper for someone to fill this place with laughter. With life."
She took a deep breath, her red eyes gleaming with new purpose.
"I don't need shrines. I don't need offerings. I need you."
She stood again, with fire now burning behind her exhaustion.
"I will raise you to be strong. To be free. And when the time comes, if the Sea God himself asks me to give you up—" she paused, her expression hardening, "—then let him descend in person, and try to take you from me."
She turned to the pool at the temple's center and gently dipped the baby's feet into the sacred waters. The ripples glowed with soft gold, pulsing once, then again, in rhythm with his heartbeat.
The ocean accepted him.
The island welcomed him.
And Bo Saixi, for the first time in over a century, smiled without sorrow.