LOGINAt eight, I swallowed the Tear of the Abyss, hidden in the holy font by my grandmother. After that, my skin was like pearl. It would never age. She called it a curse. Left by the Sea God. Every year, on the Night of the Tides, someone had to prove they truly wanted me to stay—press a Golden Scale to my heart. Or the scales would tear through my skin. My legs would fuse into a tail. The tide would drag me back to the abyss before dawn—a mermaid, trapped beneath the waves forever. Before she died, Grandmother left three Golden Scales. She gave them to my fiancé Alaric, my brother Caspian, and my childhood friend, Crown Prince Lucian. Their promises were so easy. "Just a scale? We'd get you the stars if you asked." But on the Night of the Tides, I saw all three. Pinned to a brooch on Evelina, the orphan from the Sanctum. They said she'd suffered, never known love. The scales would soothe her "fragile soul." But me? A princess didn't need trinkets to know I was loved. She danced. "I'm the luckiest girl in the empire." I pushed through the crowd. I just needed one. Alaric grabbed my wrist. "Haven't I given you everything? Don't be selfish now." Caspian shot me a look. "Let the artist finish, then you can have them." I showed them my hand. Sharp scales were already breaking through the skin. Lucian touched them. Laughed. "Illusion magic? Seraphina, your pranks are getting old." They escorted her to the throne. In their eyes, my life-or-death curse was just a pathetic play for attention. The blood moon was setting. T he gills behind my ears tore through my flesh. Blinding agony. I finally understood. I was meant for the sea. The water is cold. But at least I won't have to beg to stay anymore.
View MoreSixty years passed on the land.The three powerful men were now just… old.Like insects, hiding in the dark corners of the world.The tide night was the only thing they lived for. And their greatest torment.They spent the whole year scavenging.Begging. Getting spat on, kicked.Fighting dogs for rotten fish heads.They saved every penny.They endured the scorn of black market dealers. They spent everything they had.For three perfect black pearls.They carried the pearls and crawled up the cliff.They placed them on the broken altar.This year, the tide moon was huge. Heavy.Alaric was blind now.He leaned against a mossy pillar, his gnarled fingers feeling the pearls.“So smooth,” he whispered to the empty air. A sick, fawning sound. “Like the ones she used to wear. She’ll love them.”Caspian and Lucian huddled beside him. Skin and bones.The wind cut through their rags.“Stop lying to yourself,” Caspian rasped, his cloudy eyes on the empty sea. “We don’t even have the right to give
I knew I could never walk on land again.So what?The deep is where I belong.My palace was quiet. The water gently moved through my hair.A month in the Abyss is a year on land. Time means nothing to a god.I stopped watching the mortals.Sometimes, I'd have my guard bring the scrying pool.Like watching a bad play.Snow was falling in the mirror.Evelina had been in the dungeon for three years.When the guards threw her out, she was completely mad.She still wore the rags of her white dress.She crawled through the sludge of a gutter, digging through the mud.“My scales. These are my scales,” she’d cackle, sticking a rotten fish scale in her matted hair. “I’m the luckiest girl in the empire. I am chosen.”No one listened to the madwoman.One winter night, she curled up by the city’s dry fountain.The ice took her breath.Her dead face was frozen in a look of greedy obsession.The three men didn't get off so easy.The curse worked. They lived on.And immortality was their punishment.
The wind and the sea smashed against the broken altar.Alaric’s hands gripped the stone.His fingernails bent backward, bleeding. He didn't notice.He just stared up at me, his face a bloody mask.“Seraphina, we don’t deserve to die!” he begged. He pulled a necklace from his pocket. It was crudely pieced together. “Look. Your favorite silver necklace. I fixed it. Please, just come back.”“Shut up!” Caspian roared, shoving Alaric aside.He dragged his bloody knees forward. He held up a crystal hairpin.“Seraphina, don't listen to him. This is your favorite. Come back with me. I’ll put it in your hair every day.”Lucian, lying in a puddle of filth, pulled out a soggy, stuffed rabbit.“You can’t sleep without this,” he whispered. “You have nightmares. I remember, Seraphina. I remember.”They held up their pathetic treasures. I wanted to laugh.And so I did.My laughter, cold and empty, echoed across the cliff.“My favorite?” I looked down at them. No pity in my eyes. Just ice.I pointed a
“Nine hundred and ninety-seven… nine hundred and ninety-eight…”A hoarse whisper from the mirror broke the silence of my palace.I watched the three of them. Wrecks of men.For three months, no rain had fallen on their empire. The rivers were dry.I had taken back the blessing from the golden scales.Their water magic was gone. Their lands were barren. Their empire was a wasteland.And without the water element, the magical recoil was brutal.The great knight, the duke, the prince… now powerless. Their bodies were failing.They heard a legend. An ancient sea god altar that could reach the merfolk.So they abandoned everything and came.Nine hundred and ninety-nine steps. Jagged black rock.Barefoot. Leaving bloody footprints. Crawling on their knees, tearing their flesh on the stone with every step.Alaric’s forehead was a bloody mess.Caspian’s knees were shredded raw.Every inch was agony. Every movement scraped more skin from their bones.Lucian was pale as a ghost.He coughed up bl






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