Stavanger Bay you can call me monster

There was no question that the pallid boy would follow Skellige. The leviathan knew better than to doubt the youngest Cairn – his devotions had always been true, and had always lingered on the inky titan as opposed to their pale sister. Their family was a hydra of sorts; cut off one head and two replace it. However, there were ties between members that were stronger than others. It was evident by the look in the pale golden eyes of Szymon that he would be there to stay. In this, the great sea king could have no doubts. His eyes burned into the face of his brother as the young boy reared his head back and sang to the heavens of their intentions. It would be known by all of those around them that the bay belonged to the eldest Cairn. While his pride had caused him to falter many times in the past, it would not take advantage of him in his claiming of the throne.
 
The sea had always wanted him beside her; she had sent whispers to him in his travels and lured him to her breast. It had not been Ksenia who had been beckoned to the bay, but he – Skellige – and that was proof enough of his rightful ownership to wear the crown of Leviathan.
 
The wraith felt a rumbling in his chest, and the breeze with her brine lifted the fur along his neck and shoulders until he loomed like a shadow on the shore. Throwing his head back, the brute called to the skies and to the forceful waves. This empire will be mine. The depths will know my claim. All of his previous rage and hatred for Warsaw had become minute. Skellige was exactly where he needed to be.