The Rising Tide Shaara Novels & Stories

VERITY I watched Usel fall, kicked off Baraqiels sword, as a cry ripped from my throat as her blood sprayed in the air, her limp body barreling toward the ground. Shamshiel raced towards her, a feral noise coming from him as he ran to his daughter. At the same time I heard another voice above the din of battle, Todd had fallen to his knees, his eyes trained on a Nephilim. A Nephilim who had Devon in his hand, as I watched Devon’s head caved in on itself and exploded, his blood splattering the creature in front of him in a crimson red sheen. His scream pierced my ear drums and I felt my heart twist as the Nephilim tossed his body to the ground, where it lay crumpled. Cain moved in front of m

Gale continues, “lucky in that the serum gifted him with a heightened awareness of his physical surroundings. Almost like echolocation, except instead of sound waves he could feel the vibrations in the air around him and was able to use that in place of sight to navigate his way around. I sometimes felt like he could ‘see’ better than the rest of us.” “This is very sweet and all,” I say, rolling my eyes as I wipe Jared’s gray matter off Borden and return to Jason’s side, looming over our hostage, “but I’m sure you’ve got other friends on their way so let’s stop the monologue stall tactic and get to the point. Who is running the Marching Tides now that Nick is gone?”

Its edges were curled with heat, the script shifting like molten iron beneath the surface. Maya didn’t speak. She knew what they were nearing. The Sixth Tide. And worse—the betrayal that made it real. --- The Iron Salt wasn’t an island. It was a graveyard. Hundreds of broken ships drifted in a perfect circle, chained together by coral-grown anchors. Fragments of weapons jutted from masts. Statues of half-forgotten gods stood cracked on shattered decks. Some ships were made of steel, others of bone. One, drifting slowly to starboard, appeared to be carved from teeth.

But the longer I stared, the more I felt it that quiet thrum beneath my ribs, the pull that had begun the night Clara fell. The mark above my chest tingled, a faint burn crawling up my throat. It wasn’t pain exactly more like a memory trying to surface. Mira entered quietly, clutching her cloak around her shoulders. “You’re awake,” she said, voice low. “The council is already gathering. They say the tides are rising two days early.” “Early?” I asked, though I already knew what she meant. “The ocean refuses to rest,” she whispered. “The sailors say it hums. Like a song under the waves.”

Let them all. Because Nyxara Vale was not a memory. She was a reckoning waiting to unfold, and the storm inside her was only gathering strength. She would rise, not as the pampered heiress they remembered, but as something forged from sorrow and fury—a force that would tear through every lie, every alliance, every illusion they’d built on her grave. Cassian’s arrogance, Brielle’s cruelty, the world’s indifference—none of it would shield them from what was coming. They had not destroyed her. They had unleashed her.

The Cerulean Tide surged even more violently. Andrew leaped up and climbed onto a crumbling wall. The tide flowed right beneath his feet, and wherever it passed, countless wraiths surged through like an undead army. Even someone with Andrew's nerves could not help breaking into a cold sweat. With this many spirits, even a martial god would have to retreat. This cursed graveyard was truly treacherous. The main problem was that these spirits could continuously draw energy from the tide to sustain themselves. It was like deploying an army that carried its own supply line. Wherever the tide reached, the battlefield followed, and it never worried about resources.

Older. The bond ignites. It’s not subtle. It’s a supernova behind my ribs, ripping through bone and sinew, devouring every breath. My vision floods white-gold, then black, then both at once. My body feels too small for it—this surge, this tide that roars like an ocean breaking its chains. And then I’m not standing anymore. I’m rising. Light and shadow pour from me in the same breath, coiling like twin serpents around my limbs. My hair lifts, weightless in the storm. The marble splits under my feet—not from their fight. From me.

I need to end this right now by using the contract I made with the shadow spirit. Dark shadows form around where Delmar is standing and start to take shape. Hundreds of shadow figures taking the shape of soldiers with swords and shields now surround Delmar like an impenetrable wall. "Behold the power of my contract with the Shadow Lord of the Underworld," Delmar says to the Knight. Delmar points his sword in the direction of the knight and the shadow soldiers start advancing towards him in a well-organized formation.

Their armors already covered their faces, showing that they were ready for battle. At this moment, Kalen faintly felt like he could hear boss music being played. His jaw dropped completely, as he saw the captains moving with the shoe on the water surface like master sea surfers who knew their stuff. He had heard of anti-gravity shoes, but he had never heard of this water cheat. “Try your best to escape.” The overall Spartan Captain, Captain Vladimir’s deep voice commanded the last battleship on the comm as he led his Captains to fight for their last battleship’s survival.

Riven, Kiyomi, Cassian, Shigure, Cael, and Grandmother had all been pulled into the vision. No one cast a shadow. The child with my face waited farther down the shore. She looked older now. Not by much. Her white dress trailed through the sand. I walked toward her. “What was in the pool?” She looked at the sea. “A beginning.” Behind us, Azure Tide rose on the horizon. Its towers gleamed beneath daylight. People moved through the streets. Children crossed the bridges. Tide warriors removed old armour and laid their weapons outside the palace. For one breath, the city looked peaceful.