Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 63: Liam, the Sea prince

The days that followed the terrifying storm felt like a second life on the Sea Phantom. The group, worn thin by the chaos and fear, finally got the chance to rest. Bodies and minds battered, they collapsed into long overdue sleep. Even the crew, hardened by years of sailing, walked with slower steps and duller eyes, the weight of what they’d survived still clinging to their bones like salt from the sea.

Mariel, after being wrapped in every blanket the ship could find, was carefully placed in her quarters. Sera stayed with her at first, keeping a close eye and pressing warm cloths to her forehead. By morning, her fever had broken, and by the second day, her color had returned. Restless energy filled her again like a spark catching fire.

Liam, however, was not so quick to bounce back. The exhaustion from his dive and the strange encounter in the sea had left him physically wrecked and mentally haunted. He didn’t speak much about what he saw deep in the water, and no one pressed him. Something about the way his expression would darken, his gaze drifting to places no one else could see, made them feel it was better left unspoken.

But if there was one person who refused to let him wallow in silence, it was Sophia.

For three days, Sophia doted on him like a mother hen and a worried lover all at once. She brought him hot meals, fluffed his pillows, made sure he drank water, and even combed through his damp, unruly hair when she thought he was asleep. When he tried to get up, she pushed him right back down.

"Don’t even think about it," she’d say with a soft glare, but her voice betrayed the warmth in her heart. "You’ve earned at least one week of royal treatment."

Liam would chuckle weakly, but inside, he was grateful. Her presence grounded him, especially when his thoughts threatened to drift back to that glowing figure in the depths.

On the morning of the fourth day after the storm, the sea was calm, the skies clear, and the ship sailed like a dream over blue waters. The crew moved with confidence again, the terror of the storm fading into memory. Laughter returned, and songs floated through the air. The Sea Phantom, once nearly swallowed by the ocean, now glided like a bird in flight.

It was around midday when Captain Ander himself knocked softly at the cabin door where Liam was resting.

"May I come in?" he asked in a low, humbled tone.

Liam sat up, a bit surprised. "Yeah... of course."

Ander stepped in, his usual hardened face looking softer, almost unfamiliar. He didn’t speak at first—just stood there, shifting his weight like a man unsure of himself. Then, he walked forward, took off his cap, and sat at the foot of the bed.

"I owe you everything," he said plainly. "I owe you my daughter’s life. And that’s a debt I can never repay."

Liam blinked, unsure how to respond.

"You didn’t hesitate," Ander continued, looking him in the eye. "You jumped into death’s arms for her... and for that, you will always have my respect, boy. Always."

Liam finally found his voice. "I... I just did what anyone would have done."

"No," Ander said, shaking his head. "Don’t belittle what you did. You didn’t hesitate. And that’s rare in this world."

He stood, placed a firm hand on Liam’s shoulder, and gave it a tight squeeze. "Thank you," he said again, more quietly this time, and left the room.

From that day on, Mariel was like a spark dancing across the deck of the Sea Phantom. No longer the quiet, mysterious girl sneaking on board in fear—now she was alive and everywhere. She raced around with Marcus, stealing the rag he used to wipe his sword, then darting up the stairs and making him chase her through the masts.

"Get back here, sea witch!" Marcus would yell, but his grin gave him away.

She laughed like a child, free and vibrant, and even helped the cook occasionally. In the evenings, she would walk gracefully up to Liam, balancing a small bowl of seafood on her head like a performer.

"Your hero’s meal," she’d announce, placing it before him with an exaggerated bow. "Seaweed and fish... straight from the ocean you tried to drown in."

Liam chuckled, slowly regaining his strength. Her visits were always a little chaotic, but he never minded. Her voice and her presence filled the cabin with light, and with every joke, every teasing word, it reminded him why he jumped in after her in the first place.

When Liam finally stepped out onto the deck of the Sea Phantom, the warm afternoon sun bathed his skin for the first time in days. The breeze was gentle now—not the violent screeching wind that had nearly torn the ship apart, but a calm, salt-sweet whisper across his face. The sky above was a pale blue canvas, scattered with only a few slow-moving clouds. It was as if the heavens themselves had chosen to be kind today.

He took one slow step, then another, blinking against the sunlight. His muscles ached slightly, but there was a quiet strength returning to his limbs—a sign that his body was healing. More than that, his spirit was beginning to mend. Whatever that thing in the deep was, whatever fear had gripped his chest since that moment... up here, in the open, with the sea rolling quietly beneath the ship... it seemed just a little easier to breathe.

And then, he heard it.

A soft clap.

Then another.

And then many—claps echoing off the wood, rising like a tide.

He looked up and saw them. The crew. His friends. The group. All of them were gathered—some on the stairs, some leaning against the masts, some with wide grins, others with subtle nods—but every one of them clapping for him.

Marcus was the loudest, of course, clapping with both hands over his head like a wild man. "There he is! The madman who dove headfirst into hell and came back with a girl in his arms!"

"Liam the Fish-Slayer!" Jason added, smirking.

"Liam the Sea Prince," Mariel said with a teasing smirk, standing barefoot on one of the railings, her long red scarf fluttering like a flag.

Sophia was near the center, clapping gently, her eyes bright and soft. Eleanor stood beside her, more reserved, but the small smile on her face said all it needed to.

Even Captain Ander was there, arms folded, his usual stern expression replaced with quiet pride. He gave Liam a slow, respectful nod that carried the weight of a man who did not give such things easily.

A few crewmen let out whistles. Others banged mugs against the barrels. Someone handed Liam a steaming mug of something warm and spicy—probably spiked with rum.

Sera called out from the galley hatch, "He better not be going back to sleep after this! We’re making him dinner!"

Liam’s heart swelled. He hadn’t expected this. In truth, he’d felt a bit nervous walking up again—like things might be different now. But instead, he was met with warmth. Laughter. Celebration. Like he belonged more now than ever.

He raised his mug awkwardly, caught off guard, and said with a half-smile, "Didn’t think falling off a boat would earn me applause."

Eleanor chuckled. "Falling’s easy. Coming back from the sea itself? That’s worth celebrating."

Marcus threw an arm around his shoulder. "You’re lucky I didn’t put together a statue in your honor. I was gonna make it out of fish bones and rope."

"You’re disgusting," Sophia muttered, but her eyes were still fixed on Liam.

As the clapping slowed, Liam let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The sound of waves lapping against the ship was soothing, no longer threatening. He leaned on the rail for a moment, taking it all in—the sky, the sea, the ship, and the strange, makeshift family he’d found on this impossible journey.

He didn’t know what challenges still lay ahead. But for now, on this calm day, on this calm deck, surrounded by those who trusted and believed in him—he felt alive.