"The princess is indeed brave—like her father."

The voice drifted from a man, his hands sea-weathered as he secured the ropes of his boat docked at the coast.

"I wonder what she does inside that castle," murmured his companion, narrowing his eyes toward the distant towers.

"Oh, she's a gentle flower," said a woman mending nets nearby. "A gift to this kingdom we thought the gods had forgotten."

"But cross her," muttered another, tightening sailcloth beside her husband, "and you'll feel your soul crack like driftwood in a storm."

Their uneasy laughter came.

She passed the harbour in silence. Her gloved hand clutched a tarnished locket that once hung from her mother's throat. Her presence left behind a hush.

In Elphiron, Princess Maerissea was the soft edge of a blade. Her poise commanded silence but it is her stillness which made even drunkards murmur. She was respected, even loved—but always from afar.

Some said she bore her mother's sorrow, the quiet ache left behind by King Elthrenn's disappearance on his final odyssey.

But something deeper coiled beneath her calm.

Each night, Maerissea woke up choking on air. Her skin ran cold, fingers stiff. Veins shimmered faintly beneath her wrist, like moonlight dancing on still water.

She told no one. Not the queen nor the healers.

"It's just my tiredness," she whispered to the dark, clutching her pillows like lifelines as she drew her blankets tight and tried to muffle the silence blooming in her chest.

Until a wizard came with a blinding light on her balcony. An old man with long, grey hair and beard who stilled the wind.

"Who are you?" she asked, jumping out of her bed.

"Do not be afraid. I am one of the four wizards of this world," replied the man.

"One of them? What—What are you doing here?" she asked, her ocean blue eyes wide open.

"You do not have long, Princess," he had said. "Your blood is not wholly mortal. It is unraveling. The sea reclaims what it did not mean to give."

Maerissea had gone still. "How long?"

"After the two moons align, I fear."

The queen had dismissed it as folly. But Maerissea saw the truth in her mother's trembling hands and her shoulders that grew heavier each passing season. The kingdom was faltering. Her mother was alone. Losing her father was hard for her and losing her daughter might shatter her poor weary heart.

And Maerissea would not leave her that way.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

On a cold autumn evening, she slipped into an old tavern under a false name. Cloaked, hood drawn tight, she kept to the shadows.

At a far table, a sailor hunched over his rum, the crystal light flickering across his face.

"They say the Isle of Levekhum holds a secret," he muttered. "A shrine that grants a single wish—only when the twin moons of Enchantria cross in eclipse. But it appears only to the desperate. The ones who deserve it."

Laughter erupted—thick with disbelief. Just another tale for drunken nights.

But Maerissea's breath caught. Her stare sharpened.

That night, in the still hush of her chambers, she penned a letter addressed to no one. Ink smudged where a tear had fallen. She sealed it without reading.

And before moonrise, she was gone—slipping past the halls and sleeping guards.

In two days, the eclipse would rise.

She had no choice. And no time to lose.

She hired a crew of eight—fishermen, adventurers, exiles-men who asked no questions for the right coin. She offered no name, no courtesy. When one hesitated, she gripped his wrist until it bled.

"We must find that island," she commanded. "No delays and no interruptions!"

They set sail at dawn.

Mid-voyage, the sky darkened to a bruised grey. The sea groaned beneath them.

Then the ache returned.

Her veins lit again—this time, her entire right hand shimmered with a ghostly light.

Alone in her cabin, she stared at it, breath short. "What's happening to me?" she whispered. "Is this... the end?"

"Why am I like this?!" she yelled, hoping no one heard out of the raging winds outside.

That night, the door creaked open. She woke up with a jolt.

"Who's there?" she called.

A shadow stepped into the crystal's glow—one of her crew. His eyes clouded with something darker than drink. He reached out, brushing her hand.

"Hello there, doll," said the man.

"Stay away from me!" she cried, stumbling back.

He lunged.

She turned to flee-his hand caught her hair.

Then he froze. His limbs stiffened. His breath stopped. And in a blink, he collapsed-ice-bitten and lifeless.

Maerissea stood frozen, her heartbeat hammering.

"What... what is this?" she gasped, tears brimming.

She dragged the body beneath a canvas in the hold-far from where the others might find him.

Cursed, hissed a voice in her head. Or perhaps just guilt.

But secrets rot faster at sea.

Whispers bloomed into shouts. Panic spread like fire through the deck.

Mutiny.

Blades were drawn. Fear gave way to fury.

Cornered, breath ragged, she backed against the mast-hands shaking, knowing she wouldn't survive the next strike.

"I didn't wish to die like this," she whispered to herself, voice cracking.

Then-motion.

A cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, steel flashing. He cut through the crew in swift, brutal silence, seized her wrist, and with one breathless leap-

Hurled them both into the sea.

The cold swallowed her scream.

And the dark pulled her under.

They surfaced hours later on a barren shore, waves snarling behind them. Maerissea collapsed onto the coarse sand, choking on seawater and air.

She looked down.

Her right arm had lost all colour-bone-pale, the veins beneath pulsing with a faint, cold light that already spread up towards her chest. The stranger watched her in silence, his face shadowed beneath the dripping hood. Then, without a word, he turned and walked inland.

Maerissea tried to rise. Failed. Her muscles barely responded. She bit down a cry, forcing herself up, barefoot and bruised, stumbling after him.

Before her, nestled in the mountain's side, yawned a cave.

It opened like a wound in the world. Inside, the walls gleamed with a ceiling alive with star-like lights.

She hesitated at the threshold. But her hand pulsed again and with it came a pull.

"This must be it," she said.

Maerissea stepped forward, and the silence around her deepened.

Then, a mist stirred. It curled upward in spirals until a figure stepped through it. He wore a long cloak and a grin played on his lips.

"Took you long enough, little lotusflower," he said, tilting his head. "Thought you'd drown before making it here. That would've been a shame."

Maerissea blinked. Her vision was still hazy, but she knew that voice. "You-" she rasped. "You pulled me from the sea."

He swept into a half-bow, theatrical. "Guilty. Though I wouldn't have minded a thank you. Or applause. I am also the one who saved you from that crazy man onboard." He straightened. "But I didn't do it for praise. I did it because you were... interesting."

"Who are you?" she asked, backing a step.

"Names, names, names," he drawled, then leaned closer, his eyes gleaming. "If it helps, mortals used to call me Audressean. Dream-keeper. Story-weaver. Though lately, I've taken up babysitting dying princesses with cursed bloodlines."

She stiffened. "Cursed?"

"Your breathlessness, the tremble in your chest, the reason why you impulsively risked your life to find this place? Of course I do. Why else would I be here?" He stepped aside with a flick of his hand.

Visions swirled to life. Shapes took form in the shifting light: a woman's hand reaching toward a figure by the sea. A merman, wounded and dying. Their fingers touched-and in that single, fleeting contact, something stirred.

Life.

Maerissea stared, her breath caught. "That's... my mother."

Audressean nodded. "And that was the moment you were conceived. Not of Elthrenn's blood, Maerissea. You were born from a dying immortal and a grieving queen."

The words struck like stones. She opened her mouth, but no sound came.

"You weren't supposed to exist," he continued. "Your very birth defied the sea goddess's laws. You were made of mourning and magic and that's an imbalance she cannot ignore. If you live... she fears the immortal blood in you may twist. That one day, you'll become something beyond control. Something that threatens the mortal world."

Maerissea staggered back. "No," she whispered. "That's not true. Elthrenn is my father. My mother even said I have his eyes. Does this mean my mother doesn't love me?"

"She does," Audressean said softly. "She raised you, even knowing the truth. Your real father died but for her, you were her daughter and the king as your father."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Where is he now? Where's the king?"

Audressean looked away, jaw tight. "The sea goddess, Moolyeon, demanded balance. Elthrenn's final voyage... a lot of men were sacrificed. The sea drank their blood, and their rage birthed something dark. Something that should never have existed."

He turned back to her. "To atone, he was made guardian. The beast was woken up by that expedition's violence had to be sealed. And she used him to do it."

Maerissea's voice broke. "So he didn't abandon us."

"No." Audressean's gaze softened. "He was taken. Not as punishment, but a role meant for a man like him. He gave everything... so you and your kingdom, and even the mortal world, will stay safe."

Maerissea sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

Maerissea's breath caught. Her voice splintered. "What... beast?"

Audressean turned without answer-and the vision unraveled.

The sea boiled black.

Storms howled without wind.

From the depths rose a shape with large grey tentacles. Its teeth were jagged like the bones of wrecked ships. Eyes churned like whirlpools.

It roared-and the sky itself recoiled.

"Dreiom, Menaus, Rhetuv-the last faithful men on his crew. They held the line until the end. But even loyalty has a cost. The thing they fought-it was grief made flesh."

Maerissea wrapped her arms around herself, as though that could keep the cold from seeping deeper.

"And what about me? What am I supposed to do now? Will I become the same monster they are guarding?"

Audressean approached, gentler now.

"Only you will know."

From the cave's heart, emerged the sea goddess. Her hair was like waves in motion, skin the colour of mother-of-pearl, and eyes of the colours of the tides.

"You found this island because your heart has a pure intention," the goddess murmured. "And so you may have your wish."

Maerissea fell to her knees, struggling to rise, her breath ragged. "Please... I don't know what I am anymore."

The goddess tilted her head.

"You are a thread between the forgotten and the remembered. The question you must answer now is-what will you become?"

A soft sphere of light hovered above Maerissea's chest. Her wish is waiting.

"One wish, child. Speak it. And let fate bend."

Maerissea stood trembling, her skin glazed with the glow, heart heavy with all the choices. Her lips parted-her body ached to beg for release and for a life untouched by sorrow.

But then she saw her mother's face-gaunt, waiting by the window year after year for the lost king.

And the girl she used to be, small and barefoot at the harbour, always hoping for a sail that never returned. Wanting to extend her life in order to help her mother cope with her pain and struggles for being a queen with no king.

She closed her eyes.

"I... I wanted to be safe but..." she whispered. "I wish my father and his men could be freed from their curse."

The cavern fell still. Then, the light flared.

The goddess stepped forward, kneeling so their eyes met.

"You ask not for power, nor vengeance. You asked for a great sacrifice, child."

She cupped Maerissea's face in both hands.

"But I cannot free him."

The light dimmed.

"Your father is bound. The sea claimed him and not as punishment, but as consequence. I only kept his soul from vanishing... so he could help you when the time comes," the goddess replied. "The monster was already awakened by their journey and there is no turning back from that. The thing I did was to put him in the Realm where he will be an honourable guardian of the mortal men, especially my beloved Elphiron, from that dangerous beast."

"A dangerous beast just like me," she whispered.

"I can lift my curse," said the sea goddess. "But the choice remains. Keep your immortality-and risk becoming the very monster I fear. You will watch everyone you love wither while you endure. Or... I strip away that monstrous part and grant you peace, but I cannot undo the curse of death. You will fade, like all mortals do...but perhaps quicker."

Maerissea trembled. Her breath hitched. Tears clung to her lashes.

She looked up, voice breaking. "I'd rather live a short life... than become something that destroys the ones I love."

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

She returned to Elphiron changed.

The pain still came-numb fingers, frost in her breath, the dull pulse in her veins-but the turmoil inside her had stilled.

She told no one of the cave. Or the goddess. Or the choice she had made.

Except the queen.

In the quiet of her chambers, Maerissea crumbled into her mother's arms.

"I'm not afraid anymore," she whispered, voice cracking against the queen's shoulder. "I'm... I'm more at peace now. Now that his blood is gone."

Queen Aeldeanna clutched her tighter, burying her face in her daughter's hair.

"I should have protected you," the queen wept. "I was so afraid to lose you... that I kept you in silence, even from your own truth."

Maerissea pulled back just enough to look at her.

"I do not regret being alive, Mother. Not even for a moment," she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Because I was loved. That... That was enough."

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

And then, that winter-when the first snow fell on Elphiron after long, bitter years-a ship with no sails drifted silently to shore.

The sea was still. The sky was soft with falling white.

From its deck, three figures stepped onto land.

Then, a fourth.

Elthrenn.

From the palace balcony, Maerissea and the queen watched in silence, unable to move and unable to breathe.

"It can't be," Aeldeanna whispered. "I-am I dreaming?"

Maerissea reached for her hand. "No, Mother. He's... He's really here," she beamed.

The queen didn't speak again.

She ran.

Down the steps, through the snow-laced fields, past stunned soldiers and weeping villagers. The hem of her gown caught frost and her crown tumbled from her brow-but she didn't stop.

Elthrenn met her halfway, arms outstretched, eyes shining.

She collapsed into him with a cry that broke.

"You came back," she sobbed. "You came back to me."

"I made a promise," he whispered. "Only the sea held me."

They clung to each other like those who knew time was cruel.

Around them, Elthrenn's three men embraced their families-wrinkled wives, grown children, grandchildren who had only known their names from stories.

Maerissea watched, heart thundering, breath trembling in her throat.

And then he turned.

Her father.

His eyes met hers-and softened with unshed tears.

She stepped forward slowly, voice a whisper. "Father..."

He opened his arms.

"You are my daughter," he said, voice shaking. "By fate or by miracle-I claim you as mine."

She collapsed into his arms, and the weight she had carried since childhood lifted.

"I didn't know if I'd ever meet you," she said through sobs. "Father, you came back."

"You saved me," he said, voice breaking. "You saved all of us."

"Even if I'm not really yours?"

Elthrenn pulled back just enough to meet her gaze.

"You are mine," he said. "By blood or not. You're the best thing I've ever been part of."

The queen joined them, hands shivering as she touched both of their faces.

"I should have told you both," she said. "But I was afraid the truth would shatter what little joy we had."

"No more regrets," Elthrenn said gently, pulling them into a family embrace.

Maerissea's tears fell freely. "Let's make this day count."

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

And so, every decade, when the first snow falls upon Elphiron, the people gather at the shore.

A ship with no sails appears, and from it descend heroes thought lost.

The king walks the coast once more.

Families reunite beneath falling snow.

And they remember the princess who gave up eternity-

For one day.

For love.

And for the peace of a kingdom that once thought itself forsaken.