Zashan woke with a start, filled with rage; Zathor was turning Angel’s Daughter into a monster. He got out of bed and began to dress himself for the day, putting on a pair of trousers and a sailor's shirt. He was still weak, but he knew he had to get up and keep moving so these sailors would see him as a strong man, not the slave that Zathor had sold him as. Zathor—oh, how he hated that name, hated how it reminded him of his enemy. Zashan sounded so much like Zathor; every time one of the sailors called him by his name, his blood began to boil with hatred for another name—a name that he would one day kill.

  He walked out of his room and saw a raging storm in the distance. He swiftly woke the rest of the crew, and they all began to panic. Zashan grabbed one of the sailors and shouted at him, “What is it?” The sailor he grabbed had a look of absolute fear in his eyes, as if the world would come crashing down around him. “I-It’s…” Zashan shook him harder. “Spit it out!” But it was no use. The sailor’s mind had been paralyzed with fear; he could only keep mumbling, “No, no, keep it away, sail away, swim away!”

  Zashan looked around for someone who still had their wits about them. He spotted the captain, who wore a grim expression. Zashan ran up to the captain and all but shouted at him, “What is that thing?! It’s scaring all your crew—except you and me—out of their minds. What do you know that they don’t?!”

  The captain scowled at him. He looked exactly like what Zashan imagined a ship’s captain would: one eye, a peg leg, and a sword in its sheath on his hip. The captain replied, “Yer lucky that yer the only one with yer head still intact, otherwise ye’d be braving the demon storm in the rowboat.”

  Realization dawned on Zashan—this was the Demon Storm he had heard so much about. The Demon Storm was said to be filled with monsters, curses, tidal waves as tall as mountains, and a mythical demon that roamed the eye of the storm, waiting for its master to tame it with a blood sacrifice and a display of immense power. Zashan knew he had to make his move.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Captain, I have a proposal,” he said. The captain grew angry. “You dare t—” Crash! A wave smashed into the side of the ship, tearing a huge gash in the starboard side, and the vessel began to sink rapidly.

  Zashan let go of the magic he was using to heal himself and started muttering an incantation to keep the boat afloat. But as soon as he released the healing spell, pain shot through him again. The captain and the rest of the crew saw that Zashan wielded great power.

  Zashan looked at them and shouted with such ferocity that it shocked the crew into obedience—even the captain listened. “Stop lying around! Sail to the eye of the storm!” he commanded.

  Some of the sailors tried to object, “But the de—” Suddenly, a sea monster leaped out of the water, swallowed the objecting sailor whole, and disappeared beneath the waves. The objections ceased instantly, and the captain shouted, “To the eye of the storm!”

  And so they sailed on. Zashan used his magic to drive away the monsters and dispel the towering waves. Finally, they broke through the walls of the storm and reached the center—the eye of the storm—where they saw it: the mythical demon..

  Emerging from the heart of the Hundred Mile Sea’s most violent storm, the dragon-like sea demon is a legendary creature of monstrous power. Its massive, obsidian-scaled body pulses with blue light, and its head is crowned with bone-white, lightning-charged horns. Golden, predatory eyes glare from above rows of venomous fangs, and its roar shakes the sea itself. Black mist seeps from its nostrils, and overlapping armored plates protect its long neck. Crystal-tipped spines run along its back, glowing with a ghostly light, while webbed talons and a barbed, whip-like tail make it a terror in the water.

  Beneath the waves, gills flare and clouds of ink mask its movements, while glowing patterns hypnotize prey. The demon commands the storm, summoning waves and lightning, and its breath freezes and corrodes all it touches. Bound to the storm’s eye, it waits for a master powerful enough to claim it, a living nightmare at the center of the ocean’s fury.

  The demon’s voice boomed across the sea: “My master, Devil’s Son, you have finally arrived to tame me. I await your sacrifice and display of power.”