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If your hands weren’t tied, you would have burned this cursed island without hesitation. However, fate had entirely different plans for you—plans that seemed to spare you the effort altogether. Life had been tough on you since your childhood. An orphan spat out by the sea onto the shore. Taken in by priests from a small village nestled deep within what seemed like an uninhabited island. The day you were found unconscious on the beach, was the same day when they clothed you, fed you, and treated you as an integral part of their community.
Until they didn’t.
One summer night, a fishing boat left the shore. Every second week of the month, the fishermen ventured into deep waters to gather enough food for their people. A brave group of men casting their nets day and night, hoping for a bountiful catch. Yet, it wasn’t that simple. Despite being human—the most fearsome of predators—they had to live in harmony with the world around them.
Years ago, the first priests arrived on the island with the intention of settling it, but nothing went as planned. For weeks, the sea storms roared, flooding the island with torrential rains, making it impossible to light a fire, let alone build a shelter. It was as if behind every wave was a clear message that they weren’t welcome here. And just as they were about to leave, defeated by their failure to colonize the island, the restless sea suddenly stilled.
Dark blue clouds hung low over the endless stretch of water. Apart from the eerie silence, nothing could have prepared them for what they were about to witness. A figure emerged from the sea. At first, it looked like an ordinary human silhouette, distant and indistinguishable, but with every passing moment, it moved closer, as if levitating above the water. The priests fell to their knees, convinced it was their savior—the very being they had so fervently preached about to their people. But this man, if one could call him that, was covered in scales that ran down the left side of his body, from his cheek, along his neck, and onto his shoulder, thinning as they reached his left arm. His broad, muscular back unsettled some of the expedition crew that stared at him in disbelief. How was this possible? For a human to stand with both feet on the water?
“So, you’re the ones who’ve been staying on this island for weeks,” the low voice declared rather than asked. The creature’s amethyst eyes scrutinized each of them. “Disgusting vermin. Why do you think everything belongs to you? Who gave you permission to be here?”
The men trembled at the words of the being, who clearly harbored no good intentions. However, one of the priests dared to speak.
“How may we address you?”
“I am the one who rules over these waters. It is by my will that fishermen have prosperous catches or perish miserably in the void. I am the king of these seas.”
“M-My Lord... We came to this island with the hope that our people might safely settle here and live off nature’s bounty,” explained the same priest, still kneeling, his head bowed in submission. “But this island clearly doesn’t want us here, Your Highness. For weeks, the storms have overwhelmed us. We are cold and sick, and we believed the island belonged to no one...”
At the priest’s words, a dissatisfied growl escaped the king’s lips, followed by a clap of thunder in the sky. The thunder’s echo struck the island within seconds.
"Silence," he commanded with a wave of his hand. Instantly, the water swelled at the feet of the figure with short, violet hair, lifting him higher to clearly demonstrate to the humans where they stood in the grand order. "I’ve been watching your pathetic attempts from the beginning. It’s quite an amusing spectacle, I must admit. But whether you settle here is up to me."
"Your Highness, our people... they have nowhere else to go. Hard times have fallen on the mainland. I beg you, have mercy on the women and children seeking shelter..."
The first drops of rain began to fall on the sandy shore as the king listened to their pleas, his expression pensive. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. Why should he trust these worms—these disgusting creatures who respected nothing and no one? And yet, he couldn't simply deny innocent beings—women and children, in particular—the chance for survival. His Lemurian kin were his soft spot; he knew all too well what it meant to care for one’s people, ensuring they lacked nothing and felt safe. Despite his deep-seated hatred for humans, he couldn't bring himself to take away such a possibility from those he deemed innocent.
Still, his amethyst eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze back to the priest and his crew.
"I could make an exception to my rule," he announced coldly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, "but it won’t come for free."
"Of course! We’re listening!"
"I will grant you safe passage back to the mainland. In return, your faith shall rest solely in me; from this day forth, every man, woman, and child shall honor my name with the respect it deserves. You will treat the surrounding waters and their inhabitants with reverence. You may fish only once every two weeks, thirty miles east of this island. On the last Sunday of every month, a sacrifice shall await me on the shore—a creature or a thing that has known no suffering, for I, as your king, do not tolerate the suffering of the innocent. If your people abide by these rules, we shall live in harmony. As your king, I will ensure your prosperity. But should any of these rules be broken, I will bring upon your people pain and suffering unlike anything they have ever known."
The men listened to the violet-haired being as if entranced, hanging onto his every word. One of them hastily pulled out a notebook, scribbling down the king’s demands to relay them later.
"Your Highness, your word is our command!"
The king’s lips twitched slightly, as if on the verge of a smile, but he didn’t allow it. Instead, he snapped his fingers, and the dark, low-hanging clouds began to disperse. The once-dead sea came alive with calm, drifting waves. The sky turned a brilliant blue, and the sun shone brighter than it ever had before.
Moments later, the figure returned to the sea, allowing the water to swallow him back into its depths.
But humans were humans—and as humans often do, they failed his beloved King
And that was why you sat on the beach, your hands bound behind your back and your ankles tied together. You were dressed in the most beautiful gown, your long hair dyed purple using the island's native plants - or what's left of them. Upon your head rested a crown woven from an array of exotic flowers. To complete the scene, you were laid out amidst carefully selected fruits and vegetables meant to enhance your appeal to the king.
All because the fishermen, during one of their expeditions, had hunted down a mermaid, shamelessly violated her innocence, and tossed her lifeless body overboard, thinking they were far enough from the island for anyone to find out. Oh how wrong they were for thinking that—the king himself- would not know of their sins.
The Lemurian king’s wrath was swift and unrelenting.
Your people faced famine as the island was nearly burned to the ground, leaving them homeless and without escape. The fishing boats and ships? Consumed by the flames of the enraged king. Next came the endless storms and the relentless rain they brought. Soaked and starving, your community soon realized that someone among them had committed an unforgivable crime against their savior. Any of the offerings did not satisfied him because he ensured there was nothing left to offer.
Thus, the priests gathered in the remains of one of the churches and concluded that a human sacrifice—a pure virgin, untainted and innocent, an "eye for an eye"—was the only way to atone.
And so, they chose you—a seventeen-year-old orphan no one would miss.
When all the villagers fled to the other end of the island to avoid disturbing the king as he received his offering, you finally allowed yourself to let it all out. The first tears streamed down your cheeks almost instantly, as if they had been waiting for this moment all day—you didn’t even have to blink to help them along. You had already cried on the day you were told you were the one to be sacrificed. You, who had been taken into the village years ago as nothing more than a child, now had the chance to repay the kindness of the people who had sheltered you.
You felt like laughing, but the words of those monsters played on a loop in your mind, causing the veins in your hands—slowly growing numb—to burn with anger at the mere memory. You began to regret ending up here, even if you had no control over it back then. Why couldn’t the ocean currents have carried you somewhere else? Somewhere far away from this group of fools? Your heart was broken. You thought this was your home, that these people truly cared about you. Instead, they seized you, dressed you in this gown, and did your hair. You hadn’t even had time to try and escape; it all happened so quickly.
The worst part was that the priests seemed aware of your disdain for them. That’s why they used the thickest rope they had on the island to fashion a collar, leaving a five feet length tied to a deeply buried stake. But surely… the stake couldn’t be buried that deep in the sand, could it? You asked yourself this question, and a renewed will to fight flared within you. Everyone had fled, so now was the perfect time to make one last attempt at freedom. If not now, then when?
Awkwardly, but with determination, you managed to get to your feet. With your hands tied behind your back, it was difficult to balance, but you began hopping like a rabbit toward the stake. It didn’t take long before you were exhausted, out of breath, and turning your back to the thick post. You tried to grab it with your bound hands to pull or tip it over—anything to loosen the rope enough to slip it off the top and then… escape.
But your efforts were in vain. Your body gave out, and realizing the gravity of your situation, you collapsed to your knees with a heavy sob. It was clear now.
You would die here tonight.
The waves, as if aware of your plight, began to rise and crash more frequently. The icy water reached your knees, soaking your long gown. Soon it climbed to your thighs, and with the ebb and flow of the tide, the sea seemed to pull at you, drawing you into its endless grasp, eroding the sand beneath you. The height of the waves constantly changed, pulling at your rope, and you didn’t know whether to feel terror or gratitude that it will all end soon.
Then, the sound of the waves was interrupted… by something.
With your head hanging low, it was hard to catch what it was, so you lifted it slowly. The sight of a man standing no more than a ten feet away, undeterred by the ocean’s currents, startled you so much that a scream escaped your lips. He resembled a statue, but his glowing blue eyes and the intensity with which he seemed to pierce your very being… Could it be…?
The figure of the man drew closer until his bare feet reached the sand. With a simple motion of his right hand, almost casually, he pushed the water back from the shore, stopping it from washing over your body. This tightened the rope painfully around your neck and wrists. For a second you were unable to catch your breath properly.
The scattered offerings, washed away from a distance, caught his attention only briefly. Of all the effort the women of this island had put into the ceremony, nothing remained but you—still adorned and innocent.
“You are the one offered as a sacrifice,” he said, almost as a question.
You wanted to laugh. For a god, he seemed a bit dull.
The man crouched before you, though you only realized this when his warm fingers gently tilted your chin upward. That’s when you noticed how much you were trembling—from the cold, from fear. You were terrified.
“Look at me,” he requested, his voice void of anger or disdain.
The soothing tone of his voice disarmed you, and soon your eyes met his—colors beyond description. You had never seen eyes like that before. Violet, purple with hints of brown, completely replaced the blue that had glowed like magical beacons just moments ago. Instinctively, you tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened slightly on your chin, holding you in place. His expression seemed one of surprise, though you couldn’t be sure if you were reading the god’s emotions correctly.
“You…” he began, scanning your delicate face. “You are the one I saved years ago. Your body was drifting in the water. I thought it was lifeless, but even so, I chose to carry you to shore so the villagers could prepare a burial.”
Your heart skipped a beat. It was because of him that you had survived…
You let out a scoff, though it wasn’t out of disdain for him or his actions—though that had been your intention at first. Your voice betrayed you, trembling with the fear of what was to come. Yet your character refused to change in these final moments of your life. What did you have left to lose?
“You should have let me die. At least then I wouldn’t have to experience the betrayal of those who supposedly cared for me,” you let the bitter words spill from your lips.
Perhaps you shouldn’t have.
The man’s fingers abruptly shifted, his large hand now gripping your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes once more.
“Do not blaspheme,” he growled, his voice warning. “As your king, I do not regret sparing your soul and choosing to save you. However, I can understand your perspective. You were sacrificed. Betrayed.”
His grip softened and then disappeared entirely. His long fingers found their way into your hair, playing with the strands. A slight smile appeared on his face.
You swallowed hard. The man was… handsome. Perfect, even. Just as a king should be. His sharp jawline, flawless skin, brows, nose… You could list his features for hours. But it was his warm voice that stole your heart. You realized he must carry far more empathy than he let on. Surely no one could act this kindhearted so convincingly?
“Is that your natural color?” You couldn’t miss the faint amusement in your king’s voice, which he tried to mask with an ever-growing smile. With each passing moment, you were losing grasp of what was happening.
You shook your head, lowering your gaze.
“No, Your Majesty. It’s these...”—you cleared your throat, almost slipping up. Your mind was flooded with various ways to describe the women of this island, but the king and his royal ears didn’t need to hear them. “The women of the island said that, according to legends, the first people saw you... in person. And that your hair had a purple color.”
You lifted your gaze, feeling the heat of a blush spreading across your cheeks. Your eyes fixed on his hair instead—it was easier that way. His gaze was too intimidating.
The king murmured with approval in his voice, as though digesting the words that had fallen from your lips.
"They are beautiful," he admitted after a moment's pause, his fingers lazily removing the scattered flowers tucked here and there. "This crown..."
"It's a wreath," you corrected his majesty, earning a surprised lift of his brow.
"This wreath," he amended, this time not hiding his amusement, "looks natural on you. Just like... a crown."
The wave of heat was sudden. A compliment from the king himself… If you told the villagers about this, no one would believe you. Could it mean he would accept the offering and save your people from extinction?
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a rope being cut. Feeling relief on your neck and hands, you instinctively touched the irritated skin, hissing at the sting of pain. The thick rope had chafed you badly, leaving an ugly mark that would scar—a permanent reminder of your wretched fate.
"That looks awful. Let me tend to it."
Before you could respond, the man’s warm fingers gently tilted your head to expose your pale neck. You didn’t even have a chance to protest before you felt his lips on your skin. Shocked, you flinched, instinctively gripping his broad shoulders. The wet stroke of his tongue caused unbearable pain, and your fingers tightened reflexively on the being so close to you. So close… yet the gentlest soul you’d ever encountered.
He had saved you from the merciless sea, giving you a chance at life. And now, here he was, tending to your wounds—repairing the damage caused by those despicable humans. Could someone so kind and merciful ever… kill?
"All done," he murmured, pulling back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes without breaking the closeness. It was as though he didn’t want to lose your hands, still gripping his shoulders.
The moonlight revealed the shimmering scales on his neck, glinting in the pale glow. Fascinated, you traced a thumb over them delicately without much thought. A sharp hiss startled you, and you quickly pulled back your once-bold finger.
"I-I’m sorry," you stammered, genuinely regretful. "Does it hurt much?" Either you misheard, or the crouching king chuckled. "No," he continued, his laugh soft, "it wasn’t pain, little flower. You surprised me. No one has ever touched me like that before."
You dropped your gaze. It was too much for you. Your arms, suddenly feeling like dead weights, fell limply to your sides.
"May I ask something before you kill me?" you whispered. "Is it true that your people—the ones who live with you in the depths of the ocean… have tails?"
Intrigued by your question, the man nodded, his fingers brushing softly against your flushed cheek as though encouraging you to continue.
"I’ve never seen one with my own eyes. Could you… Your Majesty, may I see one?"
Understanding your request, the man moved back, taking his warmth with him. The temperature difference was drastic, and you began to shiver, goosebumps creeping over your entire body. Yet, the king didn’t seem angered by your question. Instead, he settled beside you.
"Close your eyes," he requested.
You obeyed.
The man’s hand stole your right one, guiding it somewhere unfamiliar. The odd sensation under your fingertips startled you, and you flinched in surprise. You felt strange ridges and something slick. The hand that had led yours disappeared.
"You can open your eyes now."
You did, and a gasp escaped your lips.
Fascinated like a child, you now ran both hands carefully over the massive tail shimmering in countless colors under the moonlight. Many of the hues were ones you had never seen before. Your eyes couldn’t take in enough. You realized you were in the presence of a true king—a supernatural being. Someone who could not be trifled with. No matter how merciful he seemed, it would take only one offense to remind you of his power. A pang of guilt struck your heart as you thought of the barbarity your people had inflicted on him. How could they have done something so vile, wounding such a noble being who only wanted peace and goodwill for his subjects? Disgust for the human race coursed through your veins as though on his behalf. You were ashamed to belong to the same species that had wronged your king.
"My lord… You look majestic," you whispered, sincerely in awe of his beauty.
A strange sound escaping the man’s lips interrupted your exploration and the admiration that came with it. You looked up. The king seemed… flustered? Was that a good sign?
"Rafayel," he blurted out. His breathing grew shallow, and his eyes glistened strangely. Then, those same eyes met yours, and any trace of his earlier unease was gone. "My name is Rafayel."
You were speechless.
"My king, I…" you didn't really know what to say.
"That is how you may address me from now on," he declared with a finality that left no room for argument.
And so, your king, from whose hands you were to die tonight, revealed his name to you. Even the fear of death could not overshadow your shock and pride that you alone would know his name.
Before you could say anything else, still staring at the king’s face, you hadn’t even noticed that his tail had vanished. It wasn’t until the man stood up from the sand that you realized his kindness had come to an end. You swallowed hard and closed your eyes. In the back of your mind, you wondered whether he would use a sword, a dagger, or perhaps, as a supernatural being, rely on his teeth or claws. If it was a matter of repaying cruelty with cruelty, did that mean you would suffer the same fate as the mermaid killed at human hands?
But nothing of the sort happened. Rafayel picked you up, and you, surprised by the warmth now closer than ever, opened your eyes. Your lips were practically at his neck. Looking up, you had a perfect view of his profile.
"I will accept the offering from your people," the Lemurian began, his gaze fixed on the still, tranquil water before him, which dared not stir, utterly loyal to its master’s power. "But I will not spill the blood of an innocent maiden. I am not a monster. I am better than you humans, consumed by vengeance, ready to kill not for survival but for mere entertainment."
As he continued, his eyes fell upon you, and a tender smile graced his lips. Your heart raced.
"I will not kill you, little flower. Your innocence, the childlike curiosity with which you observed my scales, your refusal to exploit my vulnerability when I revealed my true self to you—these things allow me to believe that not all humans are ruthless beasts.That there are those among you who deserve to live. However, my condition is this: you must come with me to Lemuria where I will make you my queen. I want you to stand by my side, and for our marriage to serve as an alliance between the Lemurians and humanity."
Shocked, you didn’t even notice that your arms had instinctively wrapped around the man’s neck, his legs standing in the water up to his ankles. It was as though, in this way, he was slowly isolating you from your previous life. Your eyes moved over the familiar trees, the sand, and the ruins of houses you had often visited—whether to shop or to learn from the priests who taught children on the island the basics. That had been your life. The same life that had been taken from you, with no regard for your feelings or your opinion. The next realization that came to you was that the people who praised their king didn’t even know his commandments. After all, he didn’t kill, and his condition was that they should not kill either, except for the hunting he allowed so they could have food. These people had no respect for their lord, and you... you didn’t want to be a part of it. Your heart was stolen by the purple of the man’s hair and the warmth of his smile, hypnotizing you with the goodness that radiated from him. You no longer felt cold. Not when Rafayel held you in his strong arms, promising you the whole world.
“Will I have my own tail?” you asked, half-joking, half-serious. Your own tail... It sounded like a dream, one that someone as powerful as Rafayel might be able to grant.
The man laughed loudly. The force of his amusement made him tilt his head back.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, smiling, moving his face closer to yours. Your lips were mere inches apart. Unaware, you parted your lips, ready to obediently surrender your virginity to him.
“Do you promise?” you whispered, gazing into the eyes of your king.
He seemed to shudder at your words. Your attention was drawn to a strange light that shouldn’t have been there. A red mark shone on his chest, one that hadn’t been there a moment ago. You were sure of it, because you had been staring at the man’s silhouette for a long time, studying every inch of his body.
“It’s a Lemurian vow." He said. ,,From now on, I am bound to fulfill your dream,” he whispered, almost in disbelief that an ordinary, though not quite ordinary, human being had so quickly wrapped him around her finger.
Your fingers curiously brushed over the glowing mark. You may have asked for a tail, but you had something else in mind. In that moment, you desperately wished for Rafayel to love you with all his heart and never leave you. Perhaps the mark knew exactly what you desired, because at the thought of your own words, it lit up, almost blinding your eyes.
"Let's go home, my little flower. I want my people to finally meet their future queen."
Without giving you time to respond, Rafayel's lips gently found yours. Only after a moment did the tip of his tongue cautiously slide over your lips, asking for entry. Without much thought, you parted them, allowing the king's tongue in, and with it, you now danced your first dance together.