Her mother was dead, and Kalia screamed.

It was a certainty that defied logic. Kalia knew that Lilian was miles away, far across the maelstrom on a ship with her uncle, Grist. There was no real way for Kalia to know her mother was drowning beneath the waves. But her nightmare had been more than that. It had been real in ways that real life wasn't.

Kalia had seen the storm, the fear on her mother's face, the wave that broke the ship to kindling. Kalia could still taste salt on her lips, still feel her limbs shaking in terror, still see that last glimpse of her mother's face before it was swallowed by water.

The door to her bedroom crashed open and Karyth flew to Kalia's side. His voice was filled with concern, a soft lullaby trying to drown out her screaming sobs with pleasant noise, but she was beyond his reach. Her entire existence had shrunken down to a tiny box, trapping and compressing her until all she knew was pain and longing for her mother to come home.

And still the dream tortured her, playing over and over in her mind even as she tried to block it out with the rhythm of her father's nursery rhyme. Her mother and Grist kissing in the candlelight, a wave throwing them off the bed they shared as a storm built, the scurry for clothes as they ran to help. A bitter taste like vinegar crept into her mouth.

Lilian had always said she didn't want to leave. It was only for the money. Karyth would take care of her. She would be back before Kalia noticed. The fights had dwelt in their home for as long as Kalia could remember, pulling Lilian between her love of the ocean and her love for Kalia. But the curtain that hid her mother's lies had been ripped away in a moment, sucked beneath the waters of the Maelstrom that churned in her heart. All that was left to Kalia now was anger.

The waves of anger crashed upon her in the storm of her nightmare. Anger at Lilian's betrayal, anger at Karyth's stupidity, anger at Grist for ruining her family and stealing her mother from them.

Her emotions built higher and higher to tower over the ship, and Kalia realized with a moment of alarm that the dream had become a reality. More than the reality of her flesh and blood, she had felt a well of power rising over the ship in the form of a mighty wave. But any second thoughts came too late as the water slipped from her control to smash down on Lilian's form.

That in-between moment seemed to stretch on forever in Kalia's memory, the wave hanging motionless in the air as she tried to make it go away. A skein of silver string exploded around her. It was pure possibility, a web of potential spiraling into infinity everywhere she looked. And in that moment of rage and regret and loss Kalia ripped it to shreds. She didn't care what might have been, she only knew it was too late to fix her mistake.

So even as Karyth sought to comfort her— assure her that the bad dream was just that and nothing more— Kalia knew that her mother was dead. And Kalia knew deep in her soul that she had killed her.