The Higher Pain Ch 32: Raging Seas!

The sun sat low in the sky, casting long golden reflections across the endless stretch of the Lorian Sea. Waves rolled gently at first, brus

The sun sat low in the sky, casting long golden reflections across the endless stretch of the Lorian Sea. Waves rolled gently at first, brushing up against the creaking hull of the Windsorrow, a sturdy fishing vessel that had braved its fair share of storms. The scent of salt clung to every rope and board.

Captain Eldran Durren stood at the helm, one hand gripping the polished wooden wheel, the other clutching a tin mug of spiced tea. His thick beard twitched with every muttered curse as he squinted at the horizon.

"Wind's holding steady," he grunted. "Reef nets down?"

"Aye, Captain," replied Orlin, a lanky man with windburnt cheeks and a missing thumb. "Should haul in enough for the week."

Eldran nodded and leaned against the rail, letting the briny wind wash over his face. These waters had fed his village for generations. With the other ships—the Maiden's Wake, Sea Antler, and Four Luckless Men—working nearby, they had a good haul to bring back.

"Sea's been kind," muttered First Mate Varrik, a broad-shouldered man with a deep scar across his left brow. "Too kind, maybe."

"Don't jinx it," Eldran replied with a sideways glance.

It wasn't long after that the waves began to turn.

At first, it was subtle. A slow, dragging swell that tugged oddly at the Windsorrow's sides. Then came the chop—waves slapping harder against the hull, rising unnaturally, out of rhythm with the wind. The sky hadn't changed. Not a storm in sight.

Varrik tightened his grip on the mast.

"Something's wrong," he muttered.

A shout from the crow's nest cut through the tension.

"CAPTAIN!"

Eldran dropped his mug. It shattered on the deck as he rushed forward, boots thudding against the boards.

"What is it?" he barked, looking up.

Jarik, their youngest crewmate, pointed toward the southern horizon, his voice caught in his throat. "Th-that!"

Eldran followed his finger. At first, he thought it was a cloud bank. But no... It moved wrong. A shape—towering, feminine, and walking—rippled through the ocean mist. Her silhouette shimmered like a mirage, but there was no mistaking the form: legs rising higher than towers, a torso that vanished into the low-hanging clouds, hair that caught the sunlight like threads of gold.

"My gods..." whispered Orlin.

She was walking. Through the ocean. Each step sent walls of water rolling in all directions. The Windsorrow bobbed violently as a rogue wave slammed against the side.

"She's not stopping!" Jarik screamed. "She's coming this way!"

Eldran's heart froze in his chest. The sky was dimming now—not from weather, but from shadow. A growing darkness spread across the sea, thick with humidity and something else... something strangely sweet, like the scent of lilies mixed with sweat.

"Drop the sails!" he shouted. "Bring her about, NOW!"

Men scrambled, ropes snapped, and canvas whipped through the air. The sea churned, boiling around them. Every instinct screamed at Eldran to run, to dive into the water and flee. But it was already too late.

A low, rumbling thud came from the heavens. No thunder... it was the sound of her breath.

She was directly above them now. Through the mist and chaos, Eldran could see it: the pale underside of a massive sole descending from the sky like a mountain. The sheer scale of it shattered the mind.

"She doesn't even see us..." Varrik whispered in awe.

"Gods on high, help us!" Eldran cried out one last time.

The last thing they saw was the infinite wall of her boot. The massive structure—leather, aged with wear, and stained with the mud of countless worlds—eclipsed the sun itself.

And then came the end.

With a sound like the cracking of the world, the boot hit the water and then the ship. A tidal wave burst outward, shredding the Windsorrow and the other nearby vessels like paper. The sea itself recoiled, lifting skyward in a massive plume of foam and vapor.

In seconds, there was nothing left but silence, rolling waves, and the distant thunder of a titan's retreating footsteps.

Kaelira never even noticed.

Miles above, her long stride continued, each step shifting the tides, shaking the crust of the planet. She didn't know that she had just stepped on a kingdom's final lifeline—didn't know there had been people below her feet. All she knew was the faint tug in her chest, pulling her toward something distant and bright.

"Princess," she whispered to herself, eyes locked on the shimmering pull in the horizon. "I'm coming..."

She didn't see the broken masts floating like toothpicks in her footprints, or the crater of seething seawater left in her wake.

To her, the ocean was vast and empty.

But down below, the sea remembered.

***

Kaelira stood tall—unfathomably tall—her form wrapped in clouds and golden sunlight. Her silver hair whipped gently in the breeze high above the ground, each strand larger than a castle's flag. Her face, serene and curious, peered down at the world below, where forests broke apart like frail kindling under her boots, and oceans trembled with her passing.

The wind danced around her body, but she barely noticed it. All she could focus on now was the realization slowly blooming in her mind like a cruel joke.

So... this was the lower world.

This was where the Princess—her kin, her sister in legacy—had run off to.

Kaelira's gaze lowered, and her lips pressed into a tight line. The land below was scarred and trembling. Where her feet touched, nature wept. Craters formed around her every step, entire forests had been flattened beneath the soles of her boots without her even registering them. The air shimmered with pressure, heat, and the fallout of her presence alone.

She hadn't seen the humans yet—not really. But the truth had started to make itself known. The strange rippling beneath her soles, the occasional glint of tiny specks, the distant, fleeting screams—at first, she thought they were insects, illusions of wind or echoing birds.

But now she knew better.

These "humans"... they were smaller than legends claimed. Not just small—pathetic. No taller than the ridge of her fingernail, no stronger than a breath of air through her lips. Their entire world bent under her weight, groaned beneath her idle movements. A slip of her foot, a careless sway of her hip, a simple rest of her hand—and entire miles were unmade.

Kaelira stared down at her footprint, freshly pressed into the earth. The outline stretched for nearly a league, with the crushed remains of trees and hills buried deep in its shape. Wind still swirled along the curved edges, trying to refill the air that had been snuffed out from her single, gentle step.

Her lips parted with a sigh.

"They deserve to live," she muttered softly, "Even if they are... nothing."

The words came bitterly. Not with contempt, but with regret. Because even knowing this—knowing she brought calamity with each motion—she could not stop. Not until she found her.

"The Princess..." Kaelira murmured, lifting her chin to the far horizon. She could feel her—just barely—a spark on the edge of her awareness, familiar and bright.

How had she fallen to such a place? And why?

This world was too fragile for one like her. Too brittle. It broke apart like spun glass beneath the touch of divinity. The very ground was unraveling from her mere presence. The air cracked with imbalance. Storms formed where she lingered. Whole ecosystems bent away in fear. She could see it now—birds scattering in flocks of thousands, rivers rerouting to escape her path, mountains trembling as if to lower themselves before her.

All this, from her presence alone.

"This isn't a place for us," Kaelira whispered, her voice low and pained. "You never should've come here, Princess. Why would you trade power and respect for this?"

She stepped forward again, carefully, trying to place her foot where fewer trees still stood. It didn't matter. Even with the most delicate grace she could muster, the land cracked and dipped, quaking in the distance. A forest to the west bowed and fell in cascading waves of splintered bark, flattened under the shockwave alone.

She closed her eyes and extended her hand toward the source of that warm flicker of presence. It felt distant. Muffled, almost. Like something was interfering... or hiding.

Kaelira furrowed her brow.

"Princess..." she said louder this time, her voice echoing like a thunderclap across the entire region. It swept through the mountains, across the shattered fields and battered oceans.

"Come to me."

She waited. Wind tore at her cloak. Lightning cracked from nowhere in the sky above.

No answer came. Not yet.

But she could feel it now—closer. That spark of life, stubborn and familiar. She was still alive. Still somewhere in this fractured, glass-boned world.

Kaelira took another step forward, sighing again as her boot crushed yet another patch of land beneath its broad heel. She tried not to look. She couldn't look anymore.

"I'll bring you home," she promised softly. "Even if I have to break this little world apart piece by piece."

She didn't mean it as a threat.

But for the world below, it would be.