Title – The Map of Serpent's Grief
Zara's skin had grown pale, her laughter now a fading memory. Tyson sat by her hospital bed every night, gripping her hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to life. The doctors had no answers. Her body was giving up. Time was slipping through his fingers.
And he loved her—more than anything.
He couldn't wait anymore.
Not when he had a chance, no matter how impossible it sounded.
That night, in the dim light of the basement, the answer found him.
The journal crackled as Tyson turned its ancient pages. Dust clung to the corners like memories refusing to die. And then, something slid out—a folded, stained parchment.
A map.
Old, hand-drawn, and marked with strange symbols. At the very edge, where the sea seemed to end, was an island scrawled in red ink.
Serpent's Grief.
Tyson's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't just a curse.
It was real.
And maybe… just maybe… there was a cure.
But he couldn't do this alone. His whole life he had walked in solitude. Now, he needed someone who understood ancient places—someone who believed in the impossible.
He thought of Aria Rayne, a junior archaeologist he had seen often in the city library. They never spoke much, but she always sat surrounded by ancient texts, tracing faded runes and forgotten histories. She had once said to him, "Legends are just truths waiting for proof."
Tyson found her again and told her everything—the curse, the map, the island.
At first, she didn't believe a word.
But when he showed her the journal of Kael Vorrick and the cursed obsidian gem sealed in wax, her disbelief cracked. She held the map in silence, eyes wide.
"I've seen these serpent symbols before. Old sea civilizations worshipped them. If this place exists… it could be the discovery of a lifetime."
Then she looked at him.
"I'm in."
---
They began planning—but their funds were gone. Zara's treatment had drained everything. Renting a proper ship was impossible.
So they went to the city's forgotten docks, where rusted boats swayed like drunk old men. That's where they met Rook.
A man with wild eyes and a sea-worn jacket, Rook claimed he'd seen the impossible—a creature in the ocean that moved like a shadow beneath the waves.
"They laughed at me," he grinned. "But I know what I saw."
Tyson didn't laugh. His grandfather had written of the same thing.
Rook had a boat. Barely holding together, but still afloat.
With him was Lyra, his girlfriend—a fearless sharpshooter and expert navigator. Short-tempered, sharp-eyed, and smart.
"If we're doing this," she said, "we do it smart. The island's real, but so are the storms and things that kill you."
And then there was one more person they needed—not just for survival, but for understanding whatever lay ahead.
That's when Aria brought in Dr. Eliah Crest—a calm, composed expedition medic who had worked with deep-sea divers and survival teams. Eliah had seen venom, wounds, diseases, and even sea creatures no books described.
"I don't believe in curses," she said when they told her. "But I believe in danger. And I believe in science."
She packed her medical gear, survival tools, and notebooks full of sea legends.
---
The team was ready:
Tyson Vorrick – descendant of the cursed bloodline
Aria Rayne – myth-hunting archaeologist
Rook – unhinged sailor with secrets
Lyra – sharpshooter and master navigator
Dr. Eliah Crest – field doctor and researcher
Zara remained in the hospital—unconscious, fading, waiting.
With the obsidian gem in his pocket, and Kael Vorrick's map in his hands, Tyson stepped onto the ship.
The waves waited. So did the curse.
So did the island.